#we were talking about languages and she explained that she learned hebrew by going to work in a kindergarten in a jewish area
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Most of the i/p related posts ive reblogged are very much aimed at international audiences (which unfortunately means its mostly usa centered. Like half of the posts I see israel are talking about the us. For some reason) but despite being considered by some a Nich Internet Microcelebrity me just posting stuff on tumblr isnt doing much so I am starting to look into activist groups within here because after everything that have happened I can not imagine my future not at least somewhat involving taking part of activism
#After a conversation with an arab woman that works in the kindergarten I volenteered at over summer I already been messing around with the#idea of going like. working in a kindergarten in an arab area#we were talking about languages and she explained that she learned hebrew by going to work in a kindergarten in a jewish area#and Im in an arabic class in school and want to learn the language#and Ive always wanted to be involved in a humanitarian cause#so honestly. its not much of a change. its more of being more specific in what I am looking for#arabic class is kind of on a slight holt like the rest of my school because everyone from that area had to evacuate#but I might be temporerily going to school in here. where weve evacuated to#and the school were looking into is the one where my dad was in and where he learned arabic from. and he speaks very fluenetly#I really hope I get into it. Were missing so much school and the little we do over zoom is very hard for me cause I cant study over zoom#and most schools are working again so we wont be taken into acount and itll be like it was after covid lockdown. which still non of us have#properly recocered from#so I really want to be able to actually go to school. even if its with people i dont know in an enviroment im not familiar with
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My older sibling and I have grown up speaking one full language, and fragments of like. Four different languages (two because of white washing, one from fear of community anger during WWII, another because we randomly had a foreign TV channel) so we'd just use them all at once no matter the place or time.
We'd butcher the syntax and grammar to fit our agendas of slander to the point that we were tripping over English, our second language. It got to the point that when I was talking to a friend in middle school I asked, "We AM go?" which was supposed to be, "Are we going to AM?" (AM is just a study room that was an on and off thing at school).
So I guarantee you that the batkids will have the same problem. I can see them just blanking on whatever they were going to say while on a talk show. However their civilian persona doesn't know that language they know the word in. Now they have to badly explain what word they're thinking of in English. The batkids are laughing their asses off and yelling out the word in English to mock their fallen sibling.
Dick doesn't have this problem though. He's lucked out that it's public knowledge that he's a polyglot and now he can trash talk them in different languages, publicly, and they can't even react to it.
I do think though that the batfam would absolutely throw cultural heritage galas and wear their traditional garb and only speak in the language of their heritage.
Bruce teaching Hebrew to the kids who come up to him (he's genuinely smiling because he gets to share the culture that his parents taught him)
Dick is sharing the history of the Romani and explains the differences between Romanian and Romani (does anyone know which Roma branch he's in? Dick does a Flamenco dance that Jason joins in on, sharing Romani stories and phrases)
Cass makes tea and coffee for those who ask for a drink, because both are popular in Hong Kong (I'm going with Cass not knowing much about her heritage but because of her time in HK she wants to show off the island nation that wormed it's way into her heart.)
Jason embraces his Latino upbringing that he hid to pass as white and goes all out (Loudly yelling, having a blast talking to people, dancing and singing, drinking with his family, wearing the bright colors that he totally never would normally wear.)
Tim absolutely gets into the finest detail and spent multiple nights researching everything on his heritage (give my boy a concrete race please, but I like to hc as French. Tim would bring only the finest of French cuisine to force the people he hates to eat it because France is still a culture, even if it's seen as 'generic' nowadays)
Duke would try to have samples of food and facts from every tribe in Africa (he also totally has toys he made himself to give to the kids, and spent early morning hours with Alfred learning how to plate foods simply because of how many he wants to make and display)
Damian also has a tea and coffee set up, with snacks that Alfred definitely didn't have help making (he makes the public brew it themselves 'so that they may put their brains to use for once and be grateful that I taught them how to enjoy the superior tastes of my people')
If they manage to get Alfred to join them, he'd ask Jason if the boy has any ideas of which era of Britain to go with (Damian draws out a custom suit for Alfred, Dick hand embroiders him a handkerchief and neckerchief pair, Tim does quality control on the fabrics and shoes, Duke keeps Alfred off their backs, and Bruce got bullied into making the calls all of the people needed to get the fabric/sewing items/shoes/and services needed)
I love how most of the batkids are fluent in multiple languages.
Think about all the fun.
Them talking five different languages in two sentences and everybody understanding it without problem.
Calling each other insults in a language they know the other person doesn't speak.
They have a conversation in a language that has informal and formal 'you' and they are addressing each other with the formal 'you' because they know it annoys the other person
#batfam#batfamily#batkids#batsiblings#batbros#batman#batman comics#dick grayson#jason todd#stephanie brown#tim drake#damian wayne#damian al ghul#cassandra cain#duke thomas#barbara gordon#batfam shenanigans#nightwing#red hood#red robin#robin#dc spoiler#dc orphan#dc signal#dc oracle#dc#dc comics
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08/19/2021 DAB Transcript
Esther 4:1-7:10, 1 Corinthians 12:1-26, Psalm 36:1-12, Proverbs 21:21-22
Today is the 19th day of August, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I’m Brian it is wonderful, truly wonderful to be here with you today, as we come together around the Global Campfire to take the next step forward together and that next step will lead us back into the book of Esther which we began yesterday and will conclude tomorrow so it's, it's a short story but it's a powerful story with a ton of drama in it. As we saw sort of shaping up yesterday. So, we saw how Esther became Queen. We learned that her actual Hebrew name is Hadassah and she has not revealed her ethnicity that she is a Jewes and the Queen. And, we also met Hayman who intends to absolutely kill every Jew in the Persian Empire. We also learned of Esther's uncle who raised her and his name is Mordechai and he spared the king's life once, he uncovered a conspiracy against the king and he is an official but he will not bow down and pay reverence to Haman. And so, the king, under Haman's influences, has issued an edict that the Jews on a certain day will be purged and Mordecai is just finding out about this. And that's where we pick up the story. Esther chapters 4 through 7 today.
Commentary:
Okay, so obviously the drama continues in the book of Esther and so the antagonist Haman now everything's kind of come into the light and well, he's no more, and we will conclude the book of Esther tomorrow because even though Haman is…is no more the directive that was sent throughout the Empire and sealed with the royal seal well there’s still a day of doom in front of the Jewish people where they're supposed to be annihilated and that can't be undone. It was a royal edict. And so, that's gotta get sorted out and we’ll work through that in tomorrow's reading.
And then today we read from first Corinthians chapter 12, which obviously precedes 1 Corinthians chapter 13. 1 Corinthians chapter 13 is a very famous chapter in the Scriptures, known as the love chapter where Paul describes what love is and what love does and how it behaves and so we’ll get to that. But setting that up is what Paul is doing right now and he is answering some questions. So, 1 Corinthians 12 begins, “now concerning what you wrote about the gifts from the Holy Spirit.” So, that one sentence we know that they had written to the apostle Paul for instruction on how the Holy Spirit works and what the Holy Spirit does. And that's…that's still a question among a lot of people until today kind of depending on the type of congregation you worship at, a primary of prominence is given to certain aspects of the Holy Spirit, or were told to seek as many of them as we can get our hands on, I guess, as many as we can achieve or as many as we can ask for that God might use us or certain gifting's put people in front of other people and so kind of in the natural order of our culture elevates them as it may be more than we who are less than, who don't have that particular gifting that is super noticeable and so we look at the super noticeable gifts as something more important or something more desirable. Paul kinda dives into that and we just read the 12th chapter 1 Corinthians, and go back and re-read and kind of digest the essence of what Paul is saying is let's talk about the Holy Spirit. For starters, the Holy Spirit could never curse Jesus and somebody without the Spirit could never confess that Jesus is Lord. That's just like a little rule of thumb that’s like this little thing to carry around that he's giving them so that they have this initial, just observations, little tool to start with. And then he goes further by explaining there are different kinds of spiritual gifts and they all come from the same Holy Spirit. There are different ways to serve the Lord. There are different ways to serve his people. But however, his people serve the Lord, there is only one Lord to serve so, the Lord is being served. I quote Paul, “the Spirit's presence is shown in some way in each person, for the good of all.” So, in other words, there are plenty of gifts that the spirit brings to serve the Lord, to serve God's people and to facilitate the body. Some are more visible than others, but all are necessary and none are more important than any other one. And that's when Paul then starts describing what we know as the body of Christ and the reason that he's using that analogy is that there are many gifting's from the Spirit because there are many parts of the same body, and using the analogy of the body makes it really clear. Some parts are more visible than other parts. Some need modesty. And I can't say to an ear, I don't need you, a hand can't say because I'm not a foot I’m not part of the body; none of these things are true. The body is made up of all kinds of parts, all of them are needed to make all whole body and if one part is hurting every part suffers. So, as we are being led into the love chapter, we are being told nobody's more important than anybody else. We are all in this together. In fact, if we aren't all in this together, then that's a humongous problem because we are all part of one body empowered by one Spirit. This is a really, really wonderful to move through this territory and it’s stuff that we might feel as if we kind of already know, like, cause this isn't something that's obscure in the Scriptures. These concepts are, you know, fundamental Christianity. And yet, let's just take one step back and now let's take another step back and another and another, so that we can back away from this for a second and ask ourselves, just because I know this does not mean that this is how I live or am I constantly in a game of comparison with somebody else's gifting's or somebody else's part of the body and collectively are we doing this, like, are we all always dissatisfied with the part of the body that we are, so that we have to constantly look at another part and wish that that could be our story. Or, are we lucky to be here? Are we fortunate? Has God given us grace and mercy to include us in what he's doing? So much so that we are a part of his body, part of God's body upon this earth, we are the flesh and bone. We are the Jesus with skin on. We are very fortunate to be here at all. Paul's going after stuff that goes, that was going on in the church in Corinth, but it's always been going on this game of comparison. Whose more gifted than somebody else and whose more visible than somebody else and what do I got to do to have that many followers. What’s the magic? I cannot literally, cannot tell you how many times that question has been asked to me. And I, for 16 years have been scratching my head to answer that question because I don't know. I feel lucky or fortunate or blessed to be here at all. And so, every day is a day of wow, wow we get to do this together. But I cannot tell you how many times I've taken meetings from people who’ve even flown to Nashville, I’ve stopped taking these kinds of meetings long ago, but at the end of the day, it wasn't really the Daily Audio Bible stories that people wanted to know, it was “what was the secret sauce?” What was the secret, what was the magic? What was the thing? How can that be replicated? How can I get a following? How can I build a platform? And to those questions, I have to say well, I mean, there's ways to do it with…with the methods of our culture. Start building something. This is what we do, we start building platforms so that we can get higher and higher and higher above the noise. And so, we can be seen in so that we can have a platform from which to say things. And I'm not so sure that's how it works in God's kingdom. Seems like the first place to start is wow, wow I'm invited to be included in this body. Wow, what did I do? How did this happen? I get to be a part and partner with God on anything. How did that happen? I'm so fortunate. Like, that's the place to start. And Paul’s giving language, spiritual language to those concepts in the book of 1 Corinthians chapter 12 today. As we move toward the 13th chapter, tomorrow.
Prayer:
And so, Father, let's, we just want to stay in that place of wow, You even know who we are, You even know how many hairs are on our head. You actually know about us more than we know about ourselves and You have loved us despite the things that we have gotten ourselves into, and have included us. And so, often we are a part of something but we want to be a different part, we want to be, we want to be more visible or we want to be over here. We want to be that or we want to have that gifting. Father, we’re sorry, we’re sorry like, that's acting kind of like a selfish little kid and sometimes we get glimpses of this and how we behave toward You. Sometimes it comes upon us that maybe it's time to grow in this area. Maybe we should grow up and that seems to be the invitation here. We don't need to be compared and we don't need to compare ourselves because we are uniquely placed in Your body. There is no one else that can fill this space. Thank You for letting us be here at all. Help us Holy Spirit to focus on the good that is being done collectively, rather than us trying to carve out some place where we can be seen and celebrated and worshiped for doing what all of us are doing, which is simply serving and loving You and by extension, loving the world around us, so the light can shine into the darkness. Come Holy Spirit into this we pray, in the name of Jesus we ask. Amen.
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And that's it for today, I’m Brian, I love you and I will be waiting for you here tomorrow.
Prayers and Encouragements:
Good morning family this is Pathfinder and I’m calling for prayer for a family member. We call him Uncle Jean. Uncle Jean has been a deacon for 35 years and he’s certainly been in the valley a lot over the last 5 or 6. He lost his wife to ALS, he lost his son to ALS, he lost another daughter to ALS, he has a daughter who has tested positive for the ALS gene and he has two other children that are not getting tested. He, being a deacon for bode the services for his wife and his two children. Recently, he fell, he’s 88 years old, broke a hip, was in rehab. And then they found this huge tumor in his arm. Actually, they found it back when COVID started and they just didn’t do anything about it because they didn’t want him in the hospital because of his age, his frailty. But they finally did an MRI last week and they had to amputate his arm. Him and his family need your prayers. His remaining children are strong and are helping him. I’m praying but as I pray, I still got these questions in my mind as why is this happening to this poor family. And so, I figured I’d turned to the experts in prayer to help me with this. Thank you DABers, I love you all, I pray for you all the time. Thank you.
Hello everyone this is Lualan in China just calling in, outside of my comfort zone to pray for people with mental illness. There’s been a lot of requests like that recently specifically for Quiet Confidence and for LJ Lavender Dream. Lord, we come to You and we lift these people up to You. Please be with Quiet Confidence give her peace, give her assurance of her salvation. So that she can come to You. Be with Lavender Dreams son, it’s hard when you’re in a mental hospital and you don’t’ want to be there. You feel like people have betrayed you, abandoned you. Help her son to know that she isn’t doing that, she’s doing it because she loves him, to protect him. Be with her, give her strength and peace.
Hi Daily Audio Bible family. This is Renzo in Florida and I just want to pray that I heard for, I just want to pray for Jonathan in Denver. Father God, just please pray for Jonathan in the name of Jesus that Jonathan would just be healed on this pornography addiction God. And please help him to remember that there’s no competition on who’s a better believer, we’re all saved by grace. And I was addicted to pornography one time myself. But God completely healed me of that. I’ve been healed from that for two years now and I just thank God for everything. One thing I always remember is no matter your age God can heal you of anything. Don’t…don’t feel, don’t get down on yourself, don’t discourage yourself. Keep walking the word, keep engrossing yourself in Scripture. Keep, like you said, bathing in the Scripture, that’s so important. And God, just please let him to just keep having that fire for You God. Even if the progression is slow, it’s the same thing for me too, it was slow at first. But God, You healed me. And, like it says Joy will come in the morning. And God, we just thank you for everything you do. In Jesus name we pray, Amen. Have a blessed rest of your day guys, Jesus loves you.
Hey, this is Jerry calling from Duluth, Minnesota. With a heavy heart today. Last time I called, I think, called regarding our third daughter who is bipolar, drunken and suicidal in the middle of the night. Well, now she’s pregnant with an abusive alcoholic partner. Who, once he found out that she’s pregnant, he took off out of town. So, she’s alone, pregnant, broke, barefoot as they say. Alone. And hurting and has seemingly messed up her life now for the rest of her life. As a parent you don’t know what to do. She, five years ago, was doing very well. She was getting her masters degree, teaching. Then bipolar started to manifest itself. Four years ago, her husband abused their oldest daughter so she left them and started living a incredibly promiscuous lifestyle. Now, is reaping the consequences of it. Appreciate your prayers for a situation that has no easy answers. Thanks. Bye.
Happy Sunday DAB family. It’s August 15th my name is Michael and I’m a first time call in, so to speak. I want to thank you all for responding to prayer requests, it has been so uplifting these last few weeks. As the Lord has brought me back to the DAB app to have that constant word, thank you Brian. And the constant prayers and answers to prayers that are coming through with your responses. I’m asking for prayer for my family. Again, my name is Michael and my child Kirin is 17, biological male and yet struggling with gender dysphoria, depression, anxiety and recently diagnosed with autism. DAB family, I implore you to pray for my child. That he would turn back to the Lord of his upbringing. To embrace Christ as he is walking down a path that we don’t agree with and don’t understand fully. Pray for my child DAB family. Thank you.
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I have never been through an Orthodox conversion but because my Jewish heritage is patrilineal I did undergo a Conservative conversion so I can describe what that was like!
I personally have been practicing and studying Judaism on my own since I was 19. It was subpar and online based and private because I lived in an area with literally two other Jewish families and no synagogue. The people I lived with were also antisemitic Catholics, so I didn't wish to antagonize them because I would have been homeless if I did, and I was very disabled and unable to work.
So I did many many years of learning on my own, learned Hebrew, prayed three times a day, kept kosher (I said I was a vegan lol). Then I finally moved to an area where there were Jews. I emailed the rabbi of the Conservative synagogue explaining about my desire to convert and she welcomed me.
She made an appointment in her office and I prepared for questions like: why do you want to be Jewish? What do you believe? What are your religious practices like? How do you conceptualize HaShem? etc. It was a far easier conversation than that, but I am still glad that I prepared.
Then I got enrolled in the Intro to Judaism course, which was a year-long class going through the major holiday cycles, Yiddishkeit, basic Hebrew, Israel, tzedekah, High Holidays, etc. I attended shul as often as possible in the interim as well. I also volunteered in the kitchen and as a counselor to help mourners, and began a peer Hebrew study course. We also had a brief period of Hebrew language lessons that occurred in parallel.
The conversion process does cost money, because you have to provide a tangible contribution to the Jewish community as a show of your commitment. I paid $1000 over the course of the year.
Once the course was over, during which I obtained a lot of books, religious items, someone even donated a lovely kosher tallit gadol and mezuzah to me 😭 it was time to meet my Beit Din. I had to prepare an essay explaining all the stuff above about why I wanted to convert, if I planned on making aliyah, how I want to live as a Jew, how I'd teach my children, and my family history.
In my essay I talked a lot about the Shulchan Aruch "when the convert comes to convert." (If anyone wants to see the essay let me know 😎) and we went up to a local lake, where I met my Beit Din and the rabbis. I presented my essay.
They asked me additional questions, the big one was if I understood just how serious antisemitism is, and was I willing to take on that yoke. I said without hesitation, yes. I am a Jew, I don't have a choice anymore than someone born into the tribe. I will never compromise my Judaism to appease bigots, let them come. I live my life in service of love, they live in the shadows of hate and despair. Not me. Let them come.
My conversion had an additional difficult component because I worried that I belonged to a class of people known as kareth, but my rabbis didn't believe that it was true because I was a child who was forced to do those things, and I was not fully Jewish then, so they welcomed me. It was very emotional. And I got approved!
I went into the mikvah, sang out the prayer, and emerged as a Jew. 🙏🙏🙏🙏
Are there any good resources on the differences between Orthodox conversion and conservative/reform conversion? Google has unfortunately been taken over by ads and AI, so I'm hesitant to trust it.
.
#jumblr#ask jumblr#judaism#jewblr#jewish#frumblr#jewish conversion#conversion to judaism#jewish convert#ger#gerim#weemie#conservative judaism
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I had this friend I met in the Hetalia fandom in like 8th-9th grade who was like, a lot older than me (I was like 12-13 when we met and she was like 17 or so), and we were REALLY close for a really long time, we'd talk and call every day and it got to a point where she was really dependent on me in this awful way where she would like constantly threaten suicide if I didn't answer her texts fast enough and shit like that. She was really rich cuz her dad was a doctor and one time she bought me an entire fucking Xbox One (I did not ask for it like... I'd always been a PlayStation gamer LOL) because she didn't have anyone to play Halo with her. My family still has it and uses it as a DVD player/Netflix machine.
Anyway the really batshit thing about this person (BESIDES the fact that she was like, definitely a pedophile who loved shota and frequently sexted me after she'd turned 18+ and I was like 14 and she also had both a bestiality and incest fetish that she'd talk to me about constantly — I was a kid I had no moral concept of anything and just liked being edgy and feeling mature) was that she was like. A chronic liar who constantly faked identities. And for years after cutting off contact with her I would look back and realize that she had faked even more than I had noticed at the time. The thing is, I knew for sure she wasn't lying about her home life -- Her address, what she looked like, her dad's profession, her age, her house, her pets, etc, were all things I had proof of. But when I knew her she was constantly remaking her Tumblr to escape drama she'd start, and she would constantly make side blogs under pseudonyms and pretend it wasn't her (sometimes it would be random shit like aesthetic blogs under different names or ask blogs for characters or smthn, other times it was like, callout blogs for people she had gotten into drama with where she would pretend to be someone else defending her). I assumed back then that I was always going to be in on it, because she would always tell me whenever she made one of these fake accounts, and sometimes she would encourage me to make a new account too as a sort of roleplay thing where we both pretended to be people we weren't... Until I learned that she wasn't always telling me. Every so often, I would become mutuals with a new account who would start messaging me about my interests and strike a conversation with me. Then something would slip and my "new mutual" would admit that they had actually been my friend all along... Which should have made me immediately cut contact because that's weird as shit, but I was young and she was a close friend, so I would just sorta accept it.
She ended up being like, horrifically transphobic. She got run off her blog twice for being specifically transmisogynistic, first insisting that she was allowed to headcanon canon trans women as feminine men and then on her next blog insisting that lesbians couldn't be attracted to trans women. I was still young and closeted and she was one of my closest friends and was constantly messaging me that the situation was making her suicidal and she was just wording things wrong and totally supported trans people and people just weren’t giving her the benefit of the doubt and she was still learning so I tried to just stay out of it without losing her. Then... I came out as trans lol. She stopped replying to me when I first came out and then made a bunch of vents on her tumblr about how much it upset her and about how “using he/him pronouns for AFAB people is triggering” for whatever fucking reason. She told me her “best IRL friend” who she had introduced me to once on Skype but who never logged in again after and who refused to ever do a group call or anything (definitely another fake account) said that it was irrational for me to expect my friends to respect my pronouns so soon after coming out and that I shouldn’t be upset if I get misgendered. Then she apologized but told me my name and pronouns would never fit me. As you can imagine, as a little baby trans kid who was closeted from my family and terrified of even having come to terms with being trans, I didn’t really have a great defense.
Soon she started being really woke like 2014 style Tumblr SJW to save face, she came out as nonbinary and told me in private it was because she felt bad when people called her cis during discourse (she absolutely wasn't nonbinary) and she coined a "new sexuality" that was "attraction only to people you perceive as feminine, regardless of how they identify" -- what this actually meant was "attraction to cis women and not trans women." She ran an aroace help blog despite not being aroace? And made a bunch of pride flags that I still see around sometimes to this day. She would start fights a lot and try to out-woke people and got into a bunch of drama with other SJW types of the day, got into a bunch of drama with TumblrInAction and Mogai-Watch and shit like that, and she claimed for a short while that she had a headmate (FWIW I totally believe DID is a legitimate thing but like. Trust me on this one.) who was transphobic and that it made her so sad, she told me that it was actually that headmate that had been transphobic before, and every so often her headmate would front out of nowhere and misgender me and use really abusive language like calling me a cunt or a bitch or whatever. She started making these "intersex nonbinary" OCs who she would constantly make porn of under the guise that they were representation for LGBT people who were just like, extremely fetishistic cuntboys and dickgirls (they were “intersex” to explain why they could be “girls with natal penises” or “boys with natal vaginas”).
At that same time, she somehow always managed to have these random, very sporadically active trans women mutuals who were apparently amazing friends of hers, who shared some interests with her but also would defend her when people brought up her past, with these long-winded “Well, I’m a trans woman and I think what she said is perfectly justified and everyone makes mistakes and she’s always been a good ally!!” Then one day some trans woman received an ask from her account where she claimed to be a “black trans woman” (she was, of course, a white cis woman) and she freaked out and claimed she had “been hacked by TiA or 4Chan to make her look bad” — I realize now she had just been sending anon messages pretending to be things she wasn’t and forgot to hit anon LOL. Late in all of this she also got into a bunch of hot water for being really antisemitic and saying she didn’t trust Jewish people because they were just like Christians and like, 5 seconds later she came out as Jewish and wrote this whole long sad vent about how she had had internalized antisemitism and then started going by a random Hebrew name LMAO.
In the end the final breaking point was when I found her secret TERF blog, where she had been making posts for months about how trans men are just insecure women who are trying to escape misogyny by stepping on the backs of “fellow women” and using me as a fucking example, and also saying that me not coming out as a trans man had been “basically rape” since she had been SEXTING me when she was 18+ and I was 13-14+ and that it was traumatic to know someone she had trusted was secretly identifying as a man LMAO. She was also obviously saying all sorts of transmisogynistic things, but also had these really bizarre fetish posts about wanting trans women to fuck her...? I confronted her about it and she literally fucking out of nowhere told me that she was in the emergency room with a mysterious illness that might kill her and she was allowed to have her phone but due to privacy laws couldn’t send a picture as proof. While “in the hospital” she deleted the TERF blog and her personal blog. I had known her for literal YEARS at this point (we had met when I was 12-13 or so and by the time we no longer spoke I was a few months from 17), and I was completely stunned to fucking hear this person trying to pull “I’m in the hospital with a deadly disease” at being confronted for some shit like that LMAO. I made a post about it on my public and another “trans woman friend” of hers logged in to vehemently defend her by saying that there’s nothing wrong with AFAB women being untrusting of trans people because female oppression is uniquely traumatic and that there’s nothing wrong with women expressing their sexuality by sexting minors as long as the minor consents and that I was the real predator for “hiding that I was a man” (remember, I’d been a 13 year old closeted trans boy), before never logging in again... 😭 One of the last times we ever talked was when she demanded I refund her for the fucking Xbox and I refused.
Anyway, the long-term aftermath of that is that a few people online (in some random cringe areas of the internet) who archived some of her antics still think that I also wasn’t a real person, since they caught onto how much she lied about too, so they think I was also a sock puppet and I have no interest in clarifying and making myself known to those people LOL. I have no fucking idea where she is now, she deactivated everything after her being a TERF came out. There’s like, so much more to that I could say because I knew her for YEARS and, like I said, she was one of my “closest friends.” Her parents had wildly expensive pure bred designer dogs that she would make Vines of. She wrote Beatles real person fan fiction. For her birthday one year I made her a shirt on Zazzle with an inside joke about one of her OCs... does she still have that? Either way, she was easily the most batshit person I’ve ever known closely online and I will forever associate the Hetalia fandom with people like that.
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the stars always make me laugh (3/4)
Now complete! Here is chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 4, and the epilogue.
A year to the day after Ziva departs D.C. to return to Paris and reunite with her family, her newfound contentment is shaken by an unexpected loss. Tony and Tali are right where they belong—safely by her side—but she still finds herself feeling drawn to reflect on the past. She might just be able to use this new grief to bring peace to old wounds, renewing hope along the way for a future with her family... but only if she can find a way to let go of what haunts her.
Written as a combined response to two different challenge prompts; also available for reading on ff.net (chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3) and AO3 (chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3). After this, there will be one more chapter and a short epilogue.
_________________________
January 12th, 2021, shortly after Ducky's funeral
For fifteen minutes now, Ziva has been standing alone beside Ducky's coffin, staring at the glint of afternoon sunlight on the metal metal rods that suspend it above the pit it will soon rest in. The same sunlight warms her face, and there's a distant part of her that's grateful for the unseasonable warmth of the day.
The graveside portion of the funeral service ended forty-five minutes ago, and the David-DiNozzos are the only ones left; somewhere just out of sight, a cemetery caretaker waits respectfully for their departure.
Ziva knows she can't wait here forever, but for now, she feels compelled to linger.
Eight years ago, she buried her father in Israel. That had been difficult and painful, without a doubt, and this afternoon is reminiscent of that ill-fated trip… There is a significant difference, though: unlike with Eli, Ziva has never had conflicting feelings about the elderly doctor.
She hesitated at Eli's funeral, too, but this time, she's not trying to come to terms with loving a father even though he wasn't good to her. This time, just taking a few minutes to say goodbye. It's bittersweet, part sadness and part nostalgic fondness.
Some hundred yards away, Tony and Tali chase one another through the grass, and Ziva finds herself watching them as her lips move quietly; there is a comfortable familiarity to the rarely thought-about prayers that she's whispering to herself. The sight of Tali's bright smile, so vibrant and full of energy, is soothing, too. Life goes on.
Maybe Tony can feel Ziva's gaze as she watches, because after a little while, he looks up to meet her eye. He smiles at her, and she smiles back. Then he leans down and says something to Tali, too far away for Ziva to hear what it is; Tali shrugs and nods. Leaving Tali to keep playing by herself, Tony turns and jogs back to where Ziva is still standing.
"Hi," he says warmly when he reaches her.
"Hello," she answers, more subdued but no less affectionate.
"You doing alright over here?"
"Yes… thank you for distracting Tali and giving me time to myself."
Tony shrugs. "Seemed like you needed a moment. Do you still want to be alone?"
Ziva shakes her head. "No. I have done what I needed to do." Tony nods, but he doesn't press her for more information on whatever that was. Still, she feels compelled to elaborate. "I was praying," she explains softly.
Tony rests a comforting hand on her upper back and smiles again, understanding. "I'm sure Ducky would have appreciated that."
"Something tells me that he would… in fact, if he was here, he likely would have recited the words with me. I think there was nothing he did not have significant knowledge of."
They share a quiet laugh, and Ziva gravitates closer; she has found over the years that nearness to Tony is an almost-guaranteed serotonin booster.
"He did love learning," Tony agrees, automatically settling his arm around her shoulders. "That reminds me of something that has always made me laugh… not long after I started as a probie, we were investigating a robbery at the Navy Federal Credit Union. The manager who was our main witness was an immigrant from somewhere in Africa, if I remember right—Ethiopia, maybe? Anyway, as soon as Ducky walked in and saw the man, he just… lit up. He could tell where the manager was from, just by looking at him—beats me how he could figure it out—and he went right up to the guy and started talking to him. Not in English, mind—in whatever language they speak in Ethiopia."
"Amharic," Ziva supplies helpfully, amused.
Tony chuckles. "Honestly, it's no wonder you two got along so well. You were both polyglots."
"That is a nice vocabulary word, Tony," Ziva says, hiding her mirth between a slightly wry tone.
Tony laughs harder, shaking his head. "Hey, there's no need to be condescending. I may not speak as many languages as you do, but I know some things."
Ziva laughs, too. "I was only teasing," she assures him, feeling her spirits lifting further.
"I know, I know." Tony squeezes her shoulders. "Anyway, I wonder where Ducky learned conversational Amharic." The last word is said with a wink.
"During his travels, I am sure."
"Undoubtedly. He never was one to sit still."
"No… he was not." Ziva sobers again slightly, that thought sparking a memory. "Perhaps a year after I resigned from NCIS," she adds hesitantly, "he sent me an email—did I ever tell you that?"
"What? No, you didn't! What did he say?"
"He told me that he was hoping to visit Israel—he had done so before, but not for several decades. He was asking for advice on important places to visit. I got the impression, however, that it was really just an excuse to check on me."
"He's not the only one that had the urge to do that."
Ziva doesn't know how to reply without apologizing again for things they've already moved on from, so she just reaches up to rest her hand on top of Tony's where it's still settled on her shoulder.
He doesn't seem to mind.
"Did you answer him?" Tony asks curiously, realizing that Ziva isn't going to comment on what he just said.
Ziva shakes her head. "I could not see how replying would do anything other than bring up old pain for everyone. I kept the email, though. I really cannot say why I did."
Tony seems to get it, though. "Sometimes it's nice to know that someone's out there caring about you, no matter where you are. Maybe it makes the world feel a little less lonely," he adds contemplatively.
Ziva knows that he's speaking from experience, and she looks over to where Tali is running around in circles with her arms out, possibly pretending she's an airplane. "What is it that Gibbs said so long ago? 'When you have kids, you're never lonely.'"
"That might be one of the truest things he's ever said."
"I think so, too. Having Tali… well, that saved me during a very difficult time."
"She's pretty good for that. She did it for me, too."
Ziva thinks for the thousandth time about the difficulty Tony faced in the wake of her feigned death nearly five years ago. In a very short time, he found out that she was dead, found out that he had a daughter he'd never met, and resigned from the career that was not only a job to him but also where he found his family. He hadn't just lost Ziva herself; he had, in effect, lost Gibbs, McGee, Abby… everyone who made the navy yard his home-away-from-home.
Including Ducky.
"Hey, Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"We have talked a lot about my grief this week, but we have not talked much about yours. I am sorry for your loss, my love. You knew Ducky for far longer than I did, and I know he was very important to you."
Tony seems exceptionally unconcerned by this, and his arm around her shoulders rises and falls as he shrugs. "I did, and he was, but grief isn't a competition. I promise that I'm dealing with it—I'm just a little more worried about you right now. Loss is hard enough when it isn't just another thing to add to a lifetime already full of goodbyes." He drops a kiss to her forehead. "May his memory be a blessing for you, Ziva," he finishes in a murmur.
Ziva looks up at him, surprised and touched. "Thank you… I am impressed that you are familiar with that phrasing, since it is a Jewish tradition rather than a secular one. I would have expected you to say something closer to 'may he rest in peace.'"
Tony grins. "Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, sweet cheeks," he teases. Then, more serious again, he elaborates. "I learned a lot while you were gone. I figured that Tali deserved to grow up knowing about your background, not just mine, even if you weren't around to teach it to her."
"That was incredibly thoughtful of you, Tony."
"Yeah, well… I guess I should admit that I didn't learn everything just for her. I had other motives, too."
"Oh?"
He tightens his hold on her shoulders. "As soon as we knew that you were alive, I started planning for the day that we'd get to celebrate your culture with you, too."
"You are a man of many surprises," Ziva manages to say through a throat that has suddenly tightened again; she's genuinely moved by his continuous quiet dedication.
"I do my best." Tony rests his chin on top of her head. "Ha'makom yenahem etkhem betokh she'ar avelei Tziyonvi'Yerushalayim." His Hebrew is careful and he fumbles a few times, but the words are correct, surprising Ziva again.
What he said is the very traditional mourner's farewell: "May God console you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem."
Ziva is not particularly devout and never has been—in fact, she would consider herself culturally Jewish more than religiously Jewish—but something about hearing those familiar words strikes her in the same way that "At lo levad" did years ago. Maybe it's less because of the spiritual aspect of the blessing and more due to the painstaking effort her husband must have gone through to learn the words—which have no other use to him than in comforting her—but either way, it warms her more than the winter sun can.
Her reaction is abrupt, surprising and alarming Tony: she starts to cry again. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks quickly, concerned. "Did I say it wrong? If I accidentally insulted you, I'm sorry."
Ziva laughs through her tears. "No, no, it is not that, it is just—"
She's interrupted by the slightly violent arrival of Tali.
The six-and-a-half year old had changed directions in her running to suddenly speed toward her parents; she apparently misjudged the time it would take her to come to a stop, however, so she crashes into them, knocking them both back a step. They break out of their embrace to steady themselves.
"Oops!" Tali says, turning red and grabbing onto Tony's suit jacket to keep from falling over. "Sorry, Ima. Sorry, Daddy."
Tony snorts. "Don't worry about it, baby girl."
Tali barely hears him, though, noticing that her mother's cheeks are flushed and wet with tears. "Why are you crying, Ima?"
Ziva smiles at their slightly-too-energetic daughter. "All is well, Tali, do not worry. I am a little sad, but I am still a little happy, too."
Tali tilts her head to one side. "How are you sad and happy?"
"I am happy to have you and your Abba, but I also miss my friend Ducky. It is okay to be sad when you miss someone, yes?"
Tali nods. "Daddy has told me that a lot of times. So many times."
Ziva and Tony just chuckle at that. "Do not tell him this, ahava shelli," Ziva replies in a teasing pseudo-whisper, "because I do not want his head to grow so large that he cannot pull his shirts on anymore, but… sometimes, he says some smart things."
Tali grins, catching on. "Just not very often, right?" she says in the same low voice.
"Does anyone else hear whispering? Because I feel like I hear whispering," Tony interjects loudly, playing along.
Tali giggles. "He's funny, isn't he?" she asks Ziva conspiratorially.
"Yes… sometimes."
"Was Saba Ducky funny, too?"
"He very often was. Do you remember him?"
"A little." Tali hesitates slightly, looking from her mother to her father and back again. Then, making a decision, she reaches for Ziva's hand. When Ziva gives it to her, she tugs until Ziva gets the hint and kneels in front of her daughter.
"What is it, chamuda?"
"Do you remember when you were gone?"
"Of course I do, Tali."
"I missed you then. D'you know what Abba said, though?"
"No. Do you want to tell me?"
"Yeah. He said you were like a Gordon angel." Over Tali's head, Ziva can see Tony smiling fondly and mouthing 'she means guardian angel.' "He said you were watching over us and protecting us, even if you couldn't come home."
Ziva nods, squeezing her daughter's small hand. "Abba was right. I was."
"Well, I think maybe Saba Ducky is like a Gordon angel now, too. So don't cry, Ima. He's still watching, he just can't come home."
The simple optimistic innocence of that statement brings Ziva to gentle tears again, and Tali frowns. "I said don't cry, Ima, not start to cry!" She reaches up with clumsy fingers to wipe at Ziva's cheeks.
Ziva draws Tali into a hug, thinking that the girl might just be right. She has suffered too many losses in her life, and this first loss after reuniting with her family could have threatened to push her back into a darker place… but as much as she misses Ducky, and as much as she wishes she could have a chance to talk to him one more time, she's less alone now than she's ever been.
That's a comfort, indeed.
#ncis fanfiction#tiva#tivali#tony dinozzo#ziva david#tali david-dinozzo#ducky mallard#cynthia writes stuff too
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January 22: 2021: 3:20 am:
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From Bing internet search: “Rebecca name meaning”
Rebecca or Rebekah (Hebrew: רִבְקָה (Rivkah)) is a feminine given name originating from the Hebrew language. The name comes from the verb רבק (rbq), meaning "to tie firmly"; Jones' Dictionary of Old Testament Proper Names and the NOBS Study Bible Name List suggest the name means captivating beauty, or "to tie", "to bind".
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https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1352358086443495424
https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1352354332654657536
https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1352365808958238723
https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1352379010169368577
The numbers above refer to a two sided record album, such as the one linked below.
2 overturned = 2 sides, turn it over, play the other side = 2 overturns
58 Targeted = Is a reference to the Pope’s Flying V Guitar = “Holy Grail” in Range
144 not yet targeted = 12² = Police Down Range (based on E = MC² where the projectile is a bullet, do your own math)
These are all disturbing when combined.
What to know:
The British have a saying about new born babies.
“They all look like Winston Churchill”
as spoken by two British people talking about the babies in the hospital nursery window while passing in the hallway.
https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1352577113233223685
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESOkNEr1s_8
youtube
It’s early (really late). Have to sleep on this more.
That part about Maryland looks like it’s about money to me.
“Delmarva Peninsula”
Search this account for what I already explained about Delmarva, and why it’s important as a money stronghold, and why so many banks are located there.
Billion dollar babies, are the same as Jesus’ on a mast, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’, to nail to the mast, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’...
In search of land, riches, slaves, and power.
======================
3:47 am:
https://twitter.com/markknoller/status/1352066447888027651
https://twitter.com/i/events/1352520795633815553
The Mark Knoller Tweet is referencing the red stripe on the AF-1 that Trump is said to have suggested is a good idea, to make the airplane stand out in a cloudy day better while traveling over Canada.
The red stripe is a bad joke of course, it was done to get a reaction, and to find out who would respond, and in what way.... a COVID test or sorts.
Those troops in the underground parking are sort of like AF-1.
I don‘t know what to think about this part, because I know the national guard are all dead, but there are some national guard being shown to me on Twitter, so, I’ll just present what I know and let others have a look.
The idea I see in Knoller’s Tweet seems to be that the Red, can turn Green when you flip it like a record album.
Or,
The Green, can turn Red, when you put it underground.
I don‘t know what way is up on this one.
Green is Green Jello terror cell armed w/nitrous gas.
The Red is what happens when “You’ve been made” and they shoot you’re ass out of the sky because you put a big red stripe on your airplane while flying over Canadian airspace in “Peacetime”.
Go figure.
====================
4:13 am:
Maybe you don’t need to know what way is up on this.
Maybe the point is at the hospital nursery, where some of those young men are fathers of infant children, are targets, little Winston Churchills of the future... Billion Dollar Babies all ripe and ready to harvest for the British Still training at SDA nanny school in Arizona, “Intel” (see “Trump seven nano meter wafers” on this account to learn more about nannies, intel, and wafers.
Skip a head to 2:33 in the linked video, it’s about training of terror soldiers, made with kidnapped US Citizens babies, trained by Seventh Day Adventist nannies... unless you want to believe that mirror is a seven nano meter wafer.
I wrote more about this on the day it happened, and again later on a couple of times.
I think the military babies are being stolen by the Christian terror pirates that took over the US Government when SAG news media hijacked the White House.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdRb0wyTbU0
youtube
Dog’s & Butterfy’s:
https://twitter.com/AnnWilson/status/1352322462785155072
Truth:
It is far more likely that Ann Wilson is at the White House, or, is acting as US President from a remote Island Volcano Amp Guru location, than is Joe Biden, or was Donald Trump.
Time Warp terror can do that.
I know Ann Wilson enough personally to believe that she is there, not who we think, or who we are told in charge.
The fat lady must sing.
========================================
Giant Bird of Paradise:
These get to be about 30 feet tall on the islands. This one is just a baby:
If you happen to be someone who a terror soldier on the islands wants to talk to, they will point at those Giant Bird’s of Paradise and talk about them all day long, everywhere you go with your terrorist friend, they will be pointing at these big beautiful plants and the flower it makes. They might take you on a private tour to go hunt for as many Giant Bird’s of Paradise as can be found there, and pretty soon you will be looking at giant bamboo, I mean giant too...
... this stuff grows about eight inches taller every day.
Some things to consider, is where you are taking the tour with the terror.
Polynesia.
Polly is the name of the Pope’s bird.
The person who takes you on a hunt for giants, is the Pope’s bird, Polly, there are millions of Polly’s. They are everywhere, you cannot get away from them... so, don‘t be a giant when in Polynesia, it’s bad for you. Polly will make you kneel, to kiss the feet of the Pope’s bird.
=================================================
5:00 am:
If I were secretly running USA from a remote location at Amp Guru, it would be from here:
There, you can find the seven sacred pools of Hana, but if you call them the Seven Sacred Pools of Hana, they will kill you, so, it’s just “Hana”.
Is very beautiful there, I wish is was safe, I would like to go there once more.
I think this is the place where she at:
Mahalo.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jN7opA1Y6KQ&t=47s
youtube
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any good nonfiction book recs (that you've read or just heard of), esp historical?
oh man so many!!! here are just a few i can rummage through my books at home and name some more!!!
okay first of all go read ‘sapiens’ by yuval noah harari; he just goes through the history of humanity in a very — objective? outside view? sort of way, combining ethics and biology and evolution in a truly fascinating way: why we do this, how it makes no biological sense, and yet how it makes us human. he talks all about the myths we tell and deconstructs them — labeling religion, morality, money, all of it — without ever being nihilistic or degrading. it really made me think!
i also loved ‘the written word’ by martin puchner, which is just a history of writing and it’s effects on history — particularly interesting to me was the examination of religion and writing texts, particularly how jesus initially refused to write his teachings down in direct rebellion of the then-hebrew tradition of being extreme rules lawyers about judaism — and so his refusal to write or let his teachings be defined in the same was was a rebellion. fascinating! the last section is weak though; when the author gets to the modern era he gets kind of judgey about books these days and the concept of popular fiction.
babel/lingo by gaston dorren — just a fun pair of books examining languages of europe (lingo) and the world (babel). each language gets a couple of pages and he hones in on interesting details of each and gives a brief history — the dutch chapter was about how it’s losing its gendered system and how that leads to weirdness (de/het COUGH). quick and easy read!
germania/danubia by simon winder — sort of an intro to history books drug for me, it’s half history, half biography, and all the author just rambling on and on about german history. you can tell he adores it, it’s genuinely interesting, but it’s also written in a conversational and often hilarious tone — like the chapter where he starts complaining about how empress maria theresa’s tomb is just so adorable and charming that he can’t hate her even though he is trying to complain about the habsburgs in this chapter. (btw? he’s not wrong. that shit is cute.)
these truths by jill lapore — excellent us history book, starting from just before columbus to 2016. she admittedly skips but it’s an excellent overview and she has a very clear style and does a great job of highlighting not just the “what you learn in school” white men history, but also really hones in on black and poc history — she does an excellent job in the revolutionary war section in particular, hopping between george washington’s narratives and the narratives of his slaves. she’s also very fair when she gets to modern times, criticizing the left as well as the right... and cites both tumblr and youtube links in her references, which is incredible.
1491 by charles mann — just a careful and in-depth history of north, central, and south america pre-columbus. because it covers so much it skips in places, but it was fascinating and makes me want to learn so much more. really doesn’t focus much on what happened after colonization, and really makes a case for why the european narratives of the new world were just all wrong.
silk roads by peter frankopan — i’m about halfway through this one now. the structure is a bit odd but it’s an incredible interesting history of the world, focusing on trade and the contact between the middle east, europe, and asia. it does a great job reframing the western narratives and it makes you think!
a history of the world in 100 objects by neil mcgreggor — perfect perfect entry crack. don’t let the name make you think it’s less important; it’s 100 objects in the british museum, each one focused on and explained — why it matter, what it is, what it means. there’s a chinese bowl whose list of 20 creators written in the side demonstrates the government and systems of the time, a scroll written to educate women with footnotes added by centuries of kings, viking gold engraved with buddha imagery, just dozens and dozens of fascinating objects and stories. nor are they all objects you’d think are interesting at a glance — shards of pottery, for example — but the book has a real reverence for the items that brings them to life. the book was actually adapted from a radio series and you can still listen to the podcast version of it — each episode is maybe ten minutes long, and i listened to it and enjoyed it on its own merits as well — even without seeing the items in question, they’re described so well and lovingly that you almost don’t need to see them.
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Incoming Call, Part 2
Wavecrash learned just about all sey could possibly learn about Earth culture that day.
The two humans talking to sem and Sparkplug called themselves Red and Orion. Red was blind, and usually relied on text-to-speech to know what was going on, so this was a nice change for her. Orion wasn’t, but liked the sound of his voice - he was now on some sort of human body-altering chemical to give himself the outward appearance his inward self wanted. There was a human term for it, but frankly, the thought that one would not be able to change their outward appearance and not just go about their lives without facing severe public disapproval for it was absurd. Back on Cybertron, there were shops dedicated to those sort of bodily changes, voicebox shops and what were called ‘cute-kibble shops’.
Red and Orion seemed very interested in Cybertronian customs, and wanted to learn about some before they taught the two about Earth. Sparkplug didn’t have much to say, but Wavecrash had plenty, and told them about the various Cybertronian holidays that revolved around key events in history or simply to please the populace to give them time off.
In exchange, Red and Orion told sem and Sparkplug about birthdays (how redundant, sey thought, celebrating every year) and what they called ‘ubercheap chocolate days’, which were February 15th and December 26th. There were the religious holidays they celebrated, the names of which didn’t sound very much like Earthen Common - but Red said they weren’t. They were apparently in Hebrew, a much older Earth language.
There was a long conversation about Earth media, and Wavecrash telling them about Cybertronian media in return. At that point, Sparkplug was busy playing what Orion called “cool math games” on herself.
And then, it finally got there.
Red’s voice was confused. “So... what are you, if not human?”
Wavecrash glanced away from the tablet. “Well... we’re Cybertronians. From Cybertron.”
“Yeah, we kinda gathered that.” Orion. “But what are you?”
“We’re... mechanical. Well, not quite mechanical. But we’re made of metals.”
Orion again. “Vocaloid real.”
Wavecrash shifted in seir chair so sey were holding the tablet above seir head, looking up at it. “I still don’t know what a Vocaloid is. You just sent the video to Sparkplug, and she’s not sharing.”
Red decided to explain, “Vocaloid are AI usually created in Japan by Japanese programmers and song producers, and then they have those Vocaloids, y’know, sing things with their robot voices. Hatsune Miku is the most popular Vocaloid and people have been saying she’s the new creator of things made by shitty people, like Minecraft and Harry Potter and Amazon.”
“No idea what any of those are, and I don’t want to ask.”
“Good.” Orion sounded relieved. “Harry Potter and its real creator are a mess.”
Silence on all ends. There was no intent to go into a Harry Potter discussion.
Orion again. “Where... where is Ness, anyway? Don’t tell me you’ve kidnapped fem. I’ll kick your ass if you have one-”
“We haven’t kidnapped fem, fey’re fine! Fey’re out investigating things with... two other Cybertronians. Sparkplug’s friend, and someone who came here like a week ago and is a very widely feared assassin.”
Red, to Orion. “You are definitely not winning that fight.”
Orion’s voice sounded almost disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to win a fight against some robot aliens. “Well, there goes that. But when Ness and your friends come back, tell us? We wanna talk to them.”
Wavecrash looked over at Sparkplug, still absolutely enamored with some game called Papa’s Bakeria. “Yeah... sure. I think they’ll like hearing about Earth things.”
#rotr lore of the present#rotr lore#rotr sparkplug#rotr wavecrash#rotr red markus#rotr orion travers
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It Had To Be You
Ch.26: I Am Who I Am // Story Masterlist
Fandom: The Flash
Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC
Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.
~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~
Chapter Summary: Barry comes face to face with Eobard Thawne, the man behind his family's destruction. Belén is on the opposite side as she's down one more Palayta.
{Previous chapters}
"After an epic street battle with the Reverse-Flash, our city's very own Scarlet Speedster disappeared in an explosion of light…" Caitlin stopped reading from the futuristic article to look over at Barry, the man still in shock. "The date is from the future," she said, although she didn't know if this was a good or bad thing honestly. Everything was so confusing. "April 25th, 2024."
Barry looked for the sentence that Caitlin had read, forcibly tearing his eyes from the article's authors underneath. "When I fought the Reverse-Flash at Christmas, he said that we'd be fighting for centuries."
"But if that's true then it would implicate that Dr. Wells, or whoever he is, is also...from the future," Caitlin blinked, quickly looking back to the article.
Cisco spoke up finally, but not about the current problem. "I have to say, I'm really digging the brighter red suit. And the white on the symbol? That's dope." But then his initial happiness faded. "Wait a second. Suppose we now change the color on your suit. Will it be because we got the idea from this picture? That would mean we're living in a causal nexus. This... wow. This is so trippy. Like, Marty and the Polaroid trippy. Not as trippy as the name on the byline though." And then he smirked. "Annah-Belén Allen?"
There was an indescribable expression on Barry's face. Once again his eyes were drawn to that name. It gave him a little...ping? No, no, a definite wham in his heart. That was his Bells, his Bells with his name. At some point, despite everything bad, they'd gotten married. She was his wife.
Oh boy, that made his mind spiral with different thoughts all at once, some of them leaving him a bit red.
"Mazel tov? Cisco slowly went, both he and Caitlin assuming Barry was still in the middle of processing the news.
But suddenly, an entirely different voice responded. "Hebrew. Ancient language of the Jewish people."
"Uh-uh. What the hell was that?" Cisco quickly scanned the room.
Barry snapped out of his stupor momentarily to face the problem. "Is someone here? Hello?"
A blueish holographic head appeared just in front of the three, giving them a fright. "Good evening, Barry Allen."
"Uh... H-hi…" Barry and the others took a large step backwards. "You know who I am?"
"Of course. Barry Allen, director of Central City Police, CSI Division."
"Director?" Caitlin repeated. "I guess you get a promotion."
Gideon continued, "Also known as The Flash. Founding member of…"
But Barry didn't care to listen that ending. "What are you?"
"I am Gideon, an interactive artificial consciousness."
"AI. Sick," Cisco said, clearly impressed.
"You know Dr. Wells?" Barry asked.
'Yes."
"Do you know who he really is?" further asked Caitlin.
"I don't understand the question," Gideon responded.
"I... I mean, what is he doing here?" Barry explained better. "W-why did he come here?"
"To kill you," the bluntness in Gideon's response made everyone freeze.
Cisco's phone vibrated and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket. "Wells is in the building."
Caitlin snapped her head his way. "What? How do you know that?"
"I put a tracker on his wheelchair," Cisco explained and immediately Caitlin shifted disapprovingly. "Which, if we're wrong about him and he is paralyzed, I'm going to hell for that one. He's in the Cortex. Ask questions fast."
Barry had many questions to ask but there was one he needed answered. "Why did he kill Nora Allen?"
"Because he was angry."
"About what?"
"That you escaped."
Barry felt dumbfounded, honestly, to learn that his mother died because��he hadn't.
Cisco, who remained on his phone tracking Wells, spoke up. "He's on B level. He's coming this way."
"What does he want from me?" demanded Barry.
"For you to be The Flash."
"Maybe that's why Wells let the particle accelerator explode, so that you could become The Flash," Cisco remarked from behind.
"Why?" frowned Barry, who took a moment to think. "I mean, for what reason?"
"Guys, we got to go. He's almost here," Cisco said, tapping Barry on the arm. "Hurry!"
But they had only made it halfway when Cisco stopped them. "Wait a second. Wait. What if HAL over there tells Wells that we were in here?" he pointed to Gideon whose holographic head remained in place.
"That would be bad," Caitlin blinked.
"If I can get into its operating system, maybe I can disable its memory core…" Cisco theorized, and prompted Barry to ask Gideon for her operating system. After taking a look at such system, Cisco scoffed. "Yeah. Nope. That's not gonna happen." He quickly checked his phone again and panicked. "Guys, he's in the corridor."
Feeling desperate, Barry resorted to just simply asking, "Gideon, could you just, like, not tell him that we were here?"
Gideon surprised them all by responding, "Of course. I will accept any command given to me by you."
"Barry. Come on," Cisco motioned them to get going again. "We got to get out of here."
Barry shook his head and remained right where he was. "Wait, wait, wait. Why would you accept my commands?" he asked Gideon.
"Because you created me."
That answer left Barry even more stupefied. He let the others drag him out of the room.
~ 0 ~
"Hey," Iris tapped Belén's desk and laughed when Belén's eyes snapped up at her in shock. "Snap you out of some good fantasies?"
"What - no!" Belén shook her head, lowering her pen she'd been chewing on while thinking.
Iris put down a freshly printed out paper on the desk and tilted her head. "Then why did you look so spaced out?"
"I just...I'm worried over Maritza. She's been gone for a week and I still don't know where she is nor why she left," Belén leaned back against her chair, almost biting blood off her lower lip from the force.
"And she hasn't even tried to call Axel yet?" Iris asked.
Belén shook her head again. "No, and that's what gets me. She just got up and left us."
Well, that wasn't entirely true, Belén thought. Maritza left a short, cryptic letter for them explaining she was leaving. Of course, it didn't really explain anything.
Belén, I'm sorry. I am so sorry but I can't do this anymore. I've been drifting for months now and my actions have finally caught up with me. I'm not brave enough to do it, to face you all, so the only thing left for me to do is go. I love my family, and I love my son but now Axel is better off without me. I'm not the mother he deserves. Please look after him, you're his favorite aunt and I know you love him almost as much as I do.
I'm sorry.
- Maritza.
"It has been a week since she left...why not go to the cops?" Iris was cautious in how she said that. She didn't want to make Belén think about the fact something bad could've happened to Maritza.
"Yeah... I've been putting it off hoping that Maritza would come back, but...maybe it is a matter for the police," Belén figured she would talk to Barry about it and then decide if STAR Labs could handle the job right now - what with investigating Wells being an almost full time job - or if she should really leave it to the police. After all, she did have ties to the police both in Central City and in Starling.
"You want me to come with you during lunch?" Iris was up and ready to help if Belén needed her, but Belén shook her head.
"No, thanks. I just have to do some thinking first."
"Okay," Iris didn't even want to know what it would be like being in Belén's place at the moment, but she would be there if Belén needed her. "Do you want to talk about some new topics for this week's paper?"
"Yes please," Belén admitted it was nice getting to some normal issues of life, even if it was just for a bit. Iris was really good at reminding her that she did have a normal life despite everything.
Iris beamed and slid her paper over to Belén. "Okay, so check this out. I've been trying to figure out more about that blue guy that showed up at the Mayor's auction bit - remember him?"
"How could I forget?" Belén mumbled as she began skimming the single paper.
"Well, I thought he reminded me of someone and then I realized that it was the same man who once broke into this place, with that Plasticine woman and Pixel, right before you were kidnapped," Iris said, beginning to speak a little more fast the more she got excited over it.
"Also remember that," Belén made a face.
"But all of a sudden he's just disappeared. And do you know the crazy part? That other woman, Plasticine, she's sort of gone too…"
"So you want to write about them now?" Belén wasn't sure if this was the best idea, writing about her brother's comrades. It could provoke them into coming back and worse.
"Yeah, I mean, I think no one's realized that we got a got like a little band of evil metahumans in the city," Iris smirked. "I thought we could be the first. And...you know…" she leaned forwards on the desk to speak in a hushed tone, "...maybe you could ask the Flash to give you some info about them?"
"Iris," Belén sighed, although mildly amused.
"Oh c'mon, he has a crush on you so you know he'd do it," Iris playfully jabbed Belén on the arm. "Pleeeeeeeeease?"
"I can't believe we're still on that topic," Belén rolled her eyes and handed Iris her paper back.
"Be grateful I haven't told Barry about that," Iris said, playfully pointing at Belén. "He'd go ballistically jealous. Who wouldn't be if he was the competition?"
"Iris," Belén rubbed her forehead.
"N-n-n-no, don't worry, I won't tell anything about it," Iris promised seriously. "But could you please just ask about the metahumans? Please?"
"Okay, fine," Belén said, just to get Iris to leave it alone. "I will see what I can do…"
Iris beamed and promised her she would earn a nice Jitters if it all went well.
~0~
Barry could not find himself focusing on anything right now that didn't get him a step closer to taking Wells - or the Reverse Flash - down. It was all so confusing not to mention horrifying. It was no wonder Singh called him out on his lack of productivity at work. But then, it only lasted a minute or so until Singh too was distracted with something else of his life - marriage. That only sent Barry into a further state of overwhelm. That theme wouldn't stop, and it appeared it wouldn't stop with Eddie either.
"Oh my God!" he nearly fell backwards when Eddie showed him the engagement ring meant for Iris, tucked inside a small turquoise box.
Unfortunately, Barry was not the only one to see.
Belén could barely contain her squeals as she crossed the lobby to reach the two men. "I saw a turquoise box! Where's the turquoise box!? Show me the turquoise box!" She wiggled her fingers excitedly. Eddie was half amused and did as told lest she hit him. Belén gaped at the beautiful ring inside. "Oh my God," she smiled and looked up at Eddie.
"You can't tell her!" were his first words, making her chuckle.
"Secret for a secret," she raised a hand in solemn swear. "So have you thought of how how you're going to do it?"
"Well-" Eddie was going to explain his dilemma but Belén, just too excited, cut him off as she began to ramble on much she typically would.
"Oh! Are you going to do like the traditional, but cliche, hide-the-ring-in-a-piece-of-cake thing? No wait-" she looked to the side, quickly thinking of something else, "- it was a breadstick. I can't remember what movie that was. Or are you going to have like an airplane fly in the sky writing the words 'Iris, will you marry me?'" she made a gesture of each word with her hand. She stopped smiling a little when she saw both men staring at her. "What?"
"You thought about all this?" Barry was the one to speak up, though after clearing his throat.
"Well, what kind of girl hasn't thought about her wedding?" she countered, crossing her arms. "Haven't you thought about it?"
And just thinking about the future article again made Barry quickly shake his head. "No! I have never thought about us getting married, nope…"
Belén, more amused than annoyed, pointed out, "I never said about us. I just asked in general." Barry stiffened, his face quick to give up a flush. "But it's nice to see you're already nervous about it." She laughed and turned to Eddie. "So, what's the plan?"
It was then that Eddie could tell them his problem. "I was gonna propose tonight. All right. But I went to Joe to ask for his blessing. He said no."
"He did?" Barry repeated, confused.
"Repeatedly. I need you to talk to him, find out why…"
Barry made an apologetic face, "Uh, Eddie…"
"Look, I know me asking you like this, it's a little awkward," Eddie amended, "But you know how heartbroken Iris is gonna be if she finds out that Joe's not on board."
"He will most definitely do it, Eddie," Belén assured the man, then placed a hand on his arm, beginning to giddy up again, "And then we can plan the perfect proposal! Eek!"
"Oh, thanks. I appreciate it so much," Eddie said to both of them, and couldn't help get excited when he added, "And so will the future Mrs. Thawne. Iris Thawne..." he tested the name, chuckling, "Sounds pretty good, huh?"
"I think she's going to wanna hyphenate," Belén teased when Eddie left, chuckling to herself as she looked back at Barry and added, "That's what I wanna do."
"I have a feeling you wouldn't," Barry mumbled to himself but the moment she turned her head in his direction he jumped to change the topic. "What can I do for you, Bells?"
Belén got serious pretty fast, and judging by her face Barry knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. It was the topic he'd been desperately trying to get brave enough to be honest about.
"I'm really worried about Maritza," Belén felt like a broken record the way she talked so much about her sister's disappearance. "It's been a week and she hasn't called, texted, or returned from wherever she left to. I've tried looking for her myself in her old neighborhood but she's just not there. I'm thinking about finally going to the cops. I mean, for all I know, that letter could've been forced or forged. Do you think STAR Labs has time to look for Maritza or should I just go directly to the cops?"
In all the time Belén had been talking, Barry had tried to get some courage to speak up. He was trying - really trying - to tell her the truth about Maritza. He honestly never thought Marirza would choose the coward's way out and abandon her son and sister, leaving him to tell Belén the truth. Over the past week, he'd been working hard to convince himself that it wasn't his fault Maritza left. After all, he offered her the chance to come clean to Belén - he offered her the opportunity to mend her mistakes. It wasn't his fault Maritza chose wrong.
That was a difficult thing to accept when he kept seeing Belén so concerned and even scared over what happened to her sister.
"Barry?" Belén's voice brought him back to the present.
His eyes snapped back to her and realized he'd been silent for over a minute. To her it must have appeared like he hadn't heard a word of what she said. Fortunately, Belén was much smarter.
"What's going on with you? You've been so...distant with me. And whenever you do that, it's because you're not telling me something," she crossed her arms and looked him over, up and down.
"I-I just have a lot on my mind," Barry rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn't a lie, but the way he said it made Belén even more suspicious.
She looked at him in her special way - a look all too difficult to look away from - and frowned. "So get one thing off your mind right now. I'm all ears."
Stop being a coward, Barry berated himself. Belén deserved the truth and he really wanted to say it but...he couldn't imagine her reaction. Already she was having trouble dealing with her brother's reality and now he was going to add a second villainous sibling? But how could he word it to avoid a bad reaction?
"Barry," Belén said with annoyance lacing her tone. Perhaps it was because of everything on her plate that she got so irritated with him so quickly. She turned away and started heading for the elevator.
"Belén, c'mon," Barry sighed and went after her.
"Barry, I have enough problems and the last thing I want is an argument. So-" she pressed the elevator button, "-I'll just go and cool off. Maybe it'll give you time to speak up about whatever it is you're keeping from me."
"You're mad at me..." Barry threw his head back, scrunching his face for a moment.
Belén stepped into the elevator and turned to him with a flat face. "No, I'm irritated. And tired. And confused. But I've told you all about it. So sad you can't do the same."
Barry felt the sting of her words and even more so when the elevator doors slid shut. Thanks a lot, Maritza, he felt actual anger towards that woman.
~ 0 ~
"She's mad," Barry crossed Joe's living room, retelling the argument he had with Belén with Cisco and Caitlin. They were waiting on Eddie and Joe to come back from work so that they could talk about their findings in STAR Labs.
"Well, here's an idea - and it might be a good one," Cisco sarcastically turned his palm up beside him, "Why don't you just go ahead and tell her that Maritza is Plasticine."
Caitlin, who sat next to Cisco on the couch, was shooting Cisco a glare. "Because obviously that's not an easy thing to say." Barry made a gesture at Caitlin, thanking her for being much more understanding.
Cisco shrugged his shoulders. "Better Belén be angry at Maritza than Barry, right?"
"Dude, that's not it," Barry brought his hands to the back of his head. "I am trying to tell Belén it's just..." he once again gestured to Caitlin, "It's not an easy thing to say. I mean, how am I supposed to explain to Belén that, apart from her brother, her sister is also an evil meta who has killed and robbed and basically made our lives miserable for almost a year now?"
"Yeah, okay, I see your point but Maritza ran and if you don't say anything it'll just get worse."
"Cisco's right," Caitlin said after a minute. "You decided to give Maritza a chance and - I'm sorry if it sounds mean - but you basically gambled and lost."
Barry loved his friends but right now, he was irritated that they were right. Thankfully, Joe and Eddie arrived so Barry jumped at the opportunity to change topics. Once Joe learned what Belén had, he couldn't help become the father figure who scolded the children after they did something bad.
"Really? For three very smart people, that was really stupid. What if Wells had caught you in that…"
"Time vault," Cisco thought to help.
"Okay," Eddie shook his head, looking confused, "I know we've seen a lot this past year, but time travel?"
"I did it," Barry blurted and quickly received looks from the others. "Or I will do it, I mean…"
Eddie looked flatout done. "Excuse me?"
"One of the two speedsters in Barry's house the night his mother died was Barry. I mean, The Flash," Cisco began to explain. "He was there. Which means that one day in the future, Barry will travel back in time to that night."
"Okay. Actually, I wasn't talking about that. I kind of already time traveled," Barry said, thinking it was best to just tell them the truth now. "By accident."
"You did what?" Eddie asked.
"I was running to try and stop a tsunami from hitting the city…"
"And when was that?"
"A few weeks ago," Barry replied then looked at Cisco, "Right before you started getting those dreams."
"Oh, you mean the ones where Wells uses his super-speeding hand to shred apart my heart?" Cisco sarcastically said. "Those?"
"Yes, right. So, what if they're not dreams?"
Now it was Caitlin giving him a look. "What else could they be?"
"Memories. What if, that day, Cisco found out that Wells is the Reverse-Flash, and then Wells killed him? But when I ran back a day, I changed the timeline so that event never happened."
"If it never happened, how can Cisco remember it?" Joe asked thoughtfully.
"Because I'm clearly special enough to remember my apparent death," Cisco had answered pretty glumly.
"Maybe we should try to expand on those memories then," Eddie hummed. Cisco's eyes snapped to him, appalled at the idea. "I'm just saying maybe there's something else in those memories that could help us figure out this mess."
"He's right," Barry finally spoke up, the thoughts of the alternate word consuming him for a moment. "We have to access Cisco's memories somehow. Somewhere in his subconscious is the key."
"The key to what now?" Cisco frowned, seeing the others begin to go with the idea.
"Getting my dad out of prison."
"And how are we going to do that?" Eddie inquired next.
"We're gonna get Wells to confess to killing my mom."
And the idea was born.
~0~
"Auntie Belén, what are we going to have for dinner?" Axel asked for the third time as he and Belén walked down the street. Well, Belén was carrying him on her hip and doing her best to not drop her bag with her laptop inside. She'd already taken an early day off work and had to pick up Axel from a babysitter Maritza used to have, since Mrs. Andrews wasn't going to be home today. That babysitter had been pretty upset Belén was late to pick up Axel.
"Um, I don't know yet," Belén felt awful keeping Axel like this but she was doing her best to pay all the bills now while maintaining a solid babysitter for Axel and doing her full hours at work.
Axel was interested in her hair, never noticing how quickly his aunt was going down the block. "I'm hungry."
"I know, sweetheart, I know," Belén shifted him a bit and nearly dropped her bag had it not been for a sudden gust of wind catching it.
"Barry!" Axel grinned at the meta who'd appeared in front of them. "Hi!"
Barry offered the boy a light smile before looking at Belén, who wasn't smiling back. She reached for her bag, which almost caused her to drop Axel.
"Let me help you," Barry said after helping her straighten up.
"I'm good, thanks," Belén said curtly and held her hand for the bag he still held onto.
"Bells, don't do that," Barry quietly spoke so that Axel wouldn't catch on they were having a rough moment. "Let me help you into the house."
"I don't need your help," Belén thought that was the biggest lie she ever said. She always needed his help.
"Auntie Belén, I'm hungry," Axel let his head rest against her shoulder. "When can we eat?"
A sigh slipped through Belén's lips. She met Barry's look and felt guilty for letting her nephew starve just for her problems with her boyfriend. She didn't have to say anything for Barry to know, so she moved around him and continued towards her house.
"Can we have macaroni and cheese?" Axel asked her but Belén honestly couldn't see herself cooking at the moment.
"How's about some pizza instead, hmm?" Belén walked down the front yard and up the steps to her door.
"With pepperoni and sausage!?" Axel's head popped up from her shoulder.
"Of course," Belén put him down to search for her keys. She patted her pockets for a minute but stopped when Barry leaned beside her and stuck her key into the door. She dropped her hands to her side and kept quiet as Barry opened the door for them.
Axel ran right in. "Can I call the pizza? I want to order it all by myself!"
Belén walked in after and searched for phone. Once again, Barry stepped in with her phone and bag. She couldn't help glower as she snatched both items. "Thank you," she said politely. "You can go."
"Bells, c'mon," Barry reached for her arm but she stepped away.
"As you can see, I don't have time to argue again," she spoke quietly while her eyes watched Axel go for his toys left on the couch. "As of late, I don't have a lot of time in general."
"Then let me help you," Barry motioned to himself. He vanished and reappeared in all of ten seconds holding two boxes of pizza in his hands.
"Aww, Barry, I wanted to order all by myself," Axel playfully stomped his feet towards the dining table.
"Sorry, Axel," Barry smiled at the boy then looked at Belén, gesturing to the pizza boxes in his hands. Belén crossed her arms and stepped aside so that he could leave the boxes on the table.
Barry put down the boxes of pizza on the table and gave Axel a plate. Axel eagerly opened up the top pizza box and crinkled his now. "Ew, why is there chicken on this pizza?"
"Because that's your auntie's favorite kind of pizza," Barry glanced at Belén, the woman shifting on her feet. "Pepperoni, chicken and ham."
"Eww," Axel promptly pushed the box away and reached for the second box.
"Bells?" Barry called the woman over but she refused to move from her spot.
"Can I get my juice?" Axel turned back on his chair to see Belén. He put his hands together and pouted. "I promise I won't spill."
Belén hated having both of their eyes burning on her so she sighed and let Axel go on. "Only one juice pouch."
"I only have one left," Axel's reminder that she hadn't even gone grocery shopping made her slap her hands over her face with a groan. She wasn't getting this at all.
"I'll go buy some soon, I promise," she dropped her hands and saw Barry coming up to her. "Look, thank you for the pizza, I'll pay you back-"
"-now you're just offending me," Barry said with a flat face. Belén rolled her eyes and shifted on her feet. "Belén, there are so many things going on right now that the last thing I want is to argue with the person I care about most. Really, I just want to hold you tight."
Belén looked up at him, and without saying it out loud, Barry knew she felt the same. "I'm so tired," she closed her eyes and slumped her shoulders.
"I know," Barry moved around her so that he could hold her from behind.
"Mrs. Andrews couldn't babysit today so I had to practically beg Maritza's last babysitter to watch him for today and she screamed at me because I was late picking him up," Belén started rambling and of course Barry let her go on until she'd need to breath. "And then I had to leave early from work so that I could pick him up so that was a fun conversation with our editor. On top of that Iris is asking me to ask the Flash about some information on my brother, Pixel, Plasticine and Azul-"
"Auntie Belén!" Axel came running out of the kitchen waving his juice pouch above his head. "I need more juice!"
Belén shut her eyes and let her head hang. "And I have to go grocery shopping because I'm starving my nephew."
Barry only slightly smiled behind her. He knew she was under excess stress and it killed him that he held the biggest stress bomb she'd hear. He tightened his grip around Belén and planted a kiss on her head. "You're doing the best you can and look, Axel's doing just fine."
Belén raised her head to see Axel wiggling his bottom on his chair. He took a big bite of his pizza and hummed despite having a good chunk of food in his mouth. He looked like any ordinary four year old having dinner.
"I can't do this forever," Belén admitted quietly. "I'm his aunt, I'm not...I'm not a mom. I don't know what to do when he cries at night. I definitely don't know what to do for dinner every night for a four year old. Me? I can make frozen food and I'm good to go but he...he's four. He needs nutrients and vitamins that I have never looked at." She paused to take in a deep breath and exhale. "I gotta find Maritza."
Barry closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to speak up. "Bells..." his arms let her go, allowing her to turn around. "Maritza..."
Belén watched him struggle with his words that didn't even spell a coherent sentence. It concerned her, honestly, when she saw how much conflict she saw on his face. "Barry," she put a hand on his arm, essentially stopping him in the middle of a stutter. "This thing that...you can't get off your mind, is it about me?"
Barry pursed his lips together and gave a small nod. "Yeah..."
"It's not good, is it?"
"No...it's not."
"I don't like being kept in the dark of things, you know that, but if you're having that much trouble telling me...it has to be something really serious," Belén crossed her arms and did her best to not be so impulsive to get the information out of Barry. "I don't know what it is, but I really hope to know sometime this week."
That was fair, perhaps more fair than Barry deserved. He didn't know how, but he would tell her the truth by the end of the week. He had to. "I promise you I will."
Belén took that deal with a nod of her head. She turned back to Axel and saw he was covered in pizza sauce already. "I also discovered that I am not good at getting four year olds to take baths."
Barry laughed behind her. "That's every four year old, Bells."
Belén groaned. The more she thought about things, the worse she felt. Knowing this, Barry endeavored to distract her.
"Make a list of what you need for groceries," he left her and came back with a pen and notepad.
"Right, cos I'll forget," Belén figured and took the pen and notepad from him. She jotted down the things she remembered straight off the bat and when she kept pausing every so often, Barry started speeding through their kitchen.
Axel laughed from his seat. "Auntie Belén, what is Barry doing? Is he being silly?"
Before Belén could answer, she felt the pen and notepad disappear between her fingers. Barry came to a stop in front of her. "Uh, so you also needed Cinnamon Toast Crunch, definitely more apples, some bananas, a couple more pasta boxes - you guys eat a lot of pasta!" He threw her a look.
"We're Italian," Belén reminded him.
"Right."
"And spaghetti! I want spaghetti tomorrow!" Axel exclaimed.
"Gonna need more spaghetti," Barry said, pointing at Axel before jotting it down too. "Does that sound like it's everything?"
Belén nodded her head. "Yup. I guess I'll get up earlier tomorrow before work and-" But she stopped after being slapped in the face by Barry's trail of wind.
Barry returned a minute later with grocery bags but of course he put those away where he thought they belonged, since he never really went through their kitchen before. "Done!"
Belén raised her eyebrow at him, momentarily surprised but soon she started to smile. "Thank you," she walked up to him and hugged him tight.
Barry gave her a light sway and kissed her head. "Would you like to have some dinner?"
"Please," she chuckled.
~ 0 ~
The following night everyone save Eddie and Iris gathered in Barry's lab to conduct the memory goggle experiment. Caitlin had set up the controlling computer for the project while Cisco made himself comfortable on a small bed brought in for the occasion. It would, supposedly, allow Cisco to delve into the other world where his 'memories' were originating from.
"So, just for the people that don't speak geek-" Belén gestured between herself and Joe smiling innocently while the three scientists with them have her looks, "-how is this going to work exactly?"
"Yeah, Cisco is going to put the glasses on, fall asleep, and start dreaming," Caitlin simplified. "It's not that hard, actually."
Cisco scoffed as he took the goggles from her. "Yeah, except I'm pretty sure I die in this dream. If I go back into it, am I gonna die in real life? I mean, what are we talking about here? Is this Inception or Dreamscape?"
Joe held out a glass of milk for him. "Here. Drink this."
Cisco eyes said glass looking mildly offended. "What, am I five?"
"Just drink it."
Cisco sighed, figured why the hell not, and took the glass. "Okay, I'll drink it."
"You're gonna be fine, Cisco," Barry said as he took the now empty glass from him.
Cisco took I'm a deep breath as he placed the goggles on and laid down. Caitlin began to monitor. "Okay, the glasses are emitting a low-level delta wave which should help you fall asleep."
Cisco nodded. "Okay. I gotta warn you, though, usually it takes me a long time." But his slurred words betrayed him. "I mean... I'm not saying I'm, like... an insomniac or any…" he fell asleep mid sentence .
"Ah, so that's how you get him to shut up," Joe remarked, causing Belén to snicker.
"Now we know for when others start to ramble on and on," Barry ended up saying, and looked right at the ombre-blonde.
She gasped. "You'd do that to me?"
"If you keep insulting me," he shrugged.
"I'm so sorry," she said and kissed his cheek. "Better?" Barry nodded silently, although his smirk said it all.
"He's entering REM. It's working," Caitlin announced, sounding surprised her idea had worked.
Barry moved closer to speak with Cisco. "Cisco. Can you hear me? You're dreaming, bud."
Cisco suddenly spoke back, but his words were slow and dream-like. "Whoa. Guys, this is mad freaky."
"Okay, um, where are you?"
"Um, in the Cortex. I mean, I know I'm just dreaming that I'm in the Cortex, but it feels so real."
"Cisco, focus please," Belén said. "What exactly are you dreaming about?"
"Caitlin just left. I asked her to take Wells to Jitters."
Caitlin looked at the others in confusion. She had no recollection of such event.
"Why... why do you want Wells out of the lab?" Barry asked him.
"I think he might have tampered with my work. I need to check. Okay. Okay, I'm walking to the bunker." There was a moment of silence before Cisco sudddnly said, "Oh, man, I love this shirt. I thought the dryer ate it."
Joe had to laugh - the kid got distracted so easily!"
Belén, downing her own laugh, once again made sure Cisco focused.
"Okay, okay. All right. Now I'm running tests on the containment system. This data... It doesn't make any sense. All the supercapacitors... They were all still fully charged. There's absolutely no reason that the Man in Yellow should have escaped. Oh, my God. It was just a hologram. He tricked us."
Everyone now looked at each other stunned.
"Oh, God, Wells is here!"
"Cisco, it's just a dream. He can't hurt you," Caitlin reminded him.
"You better be right about that!"
"Eobard Thawne…" Cisco said, but it didn't sound like he was talking with them at the moment.
"Thawne? Like Eddie Thawne?" Joe asked, making the others think of the connection.
"You killed Nora Allen," Cisco continued.
"Nora? What about my mom?" Barry quickly asked.
"He's confessing," Cisco answered.
"Cisco?"
"He... he didn't want to kill her. It was you, Barry. He was trying to kill you."
Caitlin had gone back on the computer to read Cisco's vitals. "His blood pressure's 200 and his heart rate is 147. Guys, he's losing higher brain function. Cisco, you're gonna be okay. It's just a dream. You're gonna be okay."
But Cisco continued to grow in panic. "His hand... It's vibrating. He's gonna kill me! Oh, God!"
Caitlin went mad going between Cisco and the monitoring computer. "He's gonna have a stroke."
"Get him out of there!" Belén shouted frantically.
"Help me, please!" Cisco pleaded, still in his dream. Caitlin remained on the computer trying to get wake him up, eventually jolting him with a bit of a spark. "Aah!"
Caitlin gave him a sideways hug. "You're okay. It was just a dream. You're okay."
Cisco panted as he slowly came back to the real world. "Oh, God. It felt so real."
Barry felt his phone vibrate and picking it up he was greeted with Wells demanding where he was. Nervous, he couldn't come up with a right answer.
"A fire. A huge fire just erupted," Wells finally explained.
"A fire? Where?" Barry turned to the others, putting him on speaker so everyone else would hear.
"New Brighton. Bradford Tower High-Rise.c
Joe blinked. "I know that building. That's where Captain Singh's fiance works."
"On my way," Barry said, hanging up and speeding off
~ 0 ~
As it turned out, Wells was very good at keeping his charade of a kind man only wanting to help. He had helped Barry discover a new ability that enabled the metahuman to suck up all the fire in the site and save everyone. Things like this made Barry even more confused on Wells' intentions. Who goes through so much trouble to help the enemy just so that in the end he can kill the enemy?
Eobard Thawne, apparently - whoever that was.
That's exactly what Barry told Joe later that night when they returned home. If he didn't tell someone Barry was sure he'd go crazy. "We have to get him," he insisted, "I don't know how but we have to get him to confess." But then, another "bad idea" popped in his head. "He thinks of Cisco as a son, maybe.. maybe if we set everything up right, he'll genuinely let his guard down with."
Joe was on board with the idea, thinking for the moment it was the only one that would work. "Well, then we need to do a better job protecting him than I did protecting you."
Barry gave a tilt of his head, puzzled. "I'm not sure what that means."
"Barry, this is all because of me," Joe began, "I never should've let Wells take you from that hospital. None of this would've ever happened."
"If you hadn't let him take me, I would be dead, for sure," Barry argued back.
"But even then, I knew something wasn't right. Everything in my gut was telling me not to trust him, but I did, because I was so desperate to see you okay."
"Joe, this isn't your fault," Barry affirmed. "It's not your fault. Look, every bad thing that has happened to us - to all of us - is because of him. And now he's gonna pay for it."
At that moment, the front door opened and Iris walked in, hearing the last of the words. "Who's gonna pay?" she asked distractedly while closing the door behind her.
Quickly glancing at each other, the two men devised a simple, yet plausible, excuse.
"Just a new criminal we're trying to catch," Barry said.
"Oh, hope you do then," Iris said, heading for the staircase.
"What are you doing here anyways?" Barry asked her, catching Joe giving him the warning to keep everything quiet. He headed out himself afterwards.
"Oh, I was going to stay over at Belén's tonight but I realized I forgot some of the things we use over here."
"Like what?"
"Girl stuff," Iris laughed. "Not sure you're actually interested in that, are you?"
"You caught me," Barry mocked defeat and began making his way to the staircase himself when Iris stopped him.
"You are a very bad boyfriend, though," she pointed at him, her accusation filled with purposeful exaggeration but still managing to get Barry worried.
"Why?" He frowned. Although then he started making up a list that could give more than sufficient reasons to back up Iris' statement.
But of course, Iris knew none of those and came out with something different. "You are supposed to be over there, not me!" She playfully hit him on the arm. "What kind of boyfriend doesn't stay with his girlfriend who recently started living all alone?"
"The...kind that hasn't been invited yet?" was Barry's answer, and he thought it was a good one.
Iris rolled her eyes at him. "You are so new at this."
"Walk me through it oh great one," Barry sarcastically waited for her.
Iris tried her best not to smack him for that and just continued to explain. "It's a big house and she's lonely there. I'm not saying stay every night but a couple times just to show her she isn't alone would suffice."
"That...makes some sense…" Barry said after thinking on it. "But, I mean, we haven't been dating for so long. Wouldn't it be kinda weird?"
"Only if you make it weird," Iris answered in a tone that implied it should be obvious. "This is your problem: you overthink everything. This isn't science. You don't have to stay in her room on her bed, hell you don't even need to spend the night there, just...wait till she falls asleep, wait until she's at peace and can sleep for the night."
"Yeah, I can do that," Barry nodded, moving to leave again when Iris stopped him.
"But for tonight, she's mine," she smiled cheekily and finally started up the stairs.
"What - hey!" Barry called after her.
"You snooze you lose! It's my night!"
"Unbelievable," Barry was left to mumble downstairs, resigning to a night without his Bells.
~0~
The next day, everyone was set in the bunker room where the old trap for the Reverse Flash was meant to be caught. Caitlin and Belén were the last to walk in, and the latter carried a red folder with a rather serious face.
"We just talked to Dr. Wells. He's attending a lecture downtown, won't be back until 5:00," Caitlin informed them.
"All right, Cisco, you know when he gets here you need to be working on the trap so he sees you set off the hologram," Barry said.
"Hold on, isn't that, in your dream, when everything went all…"
Cisco cut Joe off by making a rather shaking gesture with his hand, meant to hold something. "Kali Maaa Temple of Doom. Yeah, that definitely happened."
"Please tell me your super intelligence figured out a way around it?" Belén gave him a weary face.
Cisco smirked and nodded. "I'm ready for him." He turned and made it into the trap. "I originally designed the force field to keep a speedster from getting out. But I've reversed it. Now it won't let one in." Holding a small remote-like device, he pressed a button and made a reddish forcefield build around the trap then becoming invisible. He gestured Barry with an index finger to try it out.
Barry cringed internally as he prepared to take a whack from the barrier. "Back up," he warned the others as he got into position. Taking a deep breath, he ran straight for the trap...and was repelled strongly. He crashed into a metal, wheeling, table and landed on his side over the ground.
Belén rushed over to him. "Barry, are you okay?"
The metahuman turned on his back, eyes wide and blinking fast as he came back to normal. "Ah. It works…"
"Does it make me a bad girlfriend if I wanna laugh?" asked the struggling woman as she helped him sit upright.
"Absolutely," Barry sent her a face.
"Good thing I don't wanna then…" Belén looked away holding back the biggest laugh possible.
"Okay, as long as I'm inside, Wells won't be able to get near me," Cisco said as he stepped out of the trap.
"And Bells and I will be in the Cortex watching and recording everything that happens," Caitlin glanced at the woman to see if she was still coming with her.
"Yes," Belén turned around, setting lose part of her smile.
"And as soon as we get the confession we need to free my dad, I'm moving in," Barry said afterwards.
"So what do I do?" Eddie asked, looking at him for further instructions.
"Wells also threatened Iris, so if something goes wrong here, we need you to keep an eye on her until Wells is neutralized," it was Joe who had answered, and despite their problems Eddie took it seriously.
"I'll always keep Iris safe, Joe," he said in a low mutter and walked out of the room.
Confused, Joe looked at the others and was met with a sharp look from Barry. "What?"
"Come here," Barry nodded for Joe to follow. The two made it into the corridor where they could talk freely. "So, um, Eddie told me what happened, that you kiboshed his proposal."
Joe sighed. "That was supposed to be between him and me."
"I so agree with that. But I'm also curious," Barry admitted. "Eddie is a great guy and we both know he really cares for Iris-"
"I know that," Joe cut him off to agree, but it only confused Barry even more.
"Then why did you tell him no?"
"Because right now is just not the moment," Joe said as if it should have been obvious. "Wells is out there, looking for advantages, and if he knows about this...what do you think he's going to use against Eddie? Against us all?"
"Stopping them from getting married won't keep Iris anymore safe or put her in anymore danger," Barry clarified. "In fact, if anything, it'll just hurt Iris more to know if you don't agree to this."
Out of everything, Joe knew Barry was right.
~ 0 ~
"Everything's set," Caitlin announced after turning one of the computers off for when Dr. Wells returned.
"Positions, everyone," Cisco took in a shaky breath as he started leaving the cortex.
"Uh, Barry, wait," Belén grabbed the red folder she had originally brought with her and caught up with said metahuman just outside the cortex.
"Bells, we gotta-"
"Just one moment, please, it's important," she promised, gesturing to the folder. "It's about Iris."
"Wh-what's wrong with her?" Barry dreaded. For someone who didn't know anything about metahumans Iris seemed to get into trouble most!
"Last night she slept over at my place-"
"I know," Barry said, still disappointed Iris had beat him to it.
"She tricked me, Barry, she tricked me into getting information on metahumans to create this," Belén handed him the red folder for him to get a look himself. "She's created this entire profile - a good case - about a conspiracy of the Particle Accelerator and STAR Labs."
As Barry began going through Iris' work he began to see the numerous cases of metahumans that had attacked the city throughout the year.
"She's connected dots. She knows that whatever was released into the atmosphere the night of the Accelerator was the night everything strange started. She knows how metahumans got their powers."
"U-uh…" truly Barry could not come up with any coherent words at the moment.
"She thinks STAR Labs knows about this," Belén finished with a sigh. "And she's pretty convinced this is how the Flash and the Azalea got their powers. Worst part is : she wants to publish it."
And that's when Barry realized the problem. With eyes wide, he looked up to her concerned face. "We can't let her do that…"
"I know but it's a bit difficult shooting it down without making myself look suspicious," Belén pointed out. "She says this is what happened to my brother too. I only managed to get her to let me see all this but she's going to show you next - she's looking for the scientific perspective."
"Oh great, so now I have to shoot her down," mumbled Barry.
"Not shoot down but...maybe tell her it's all wrong?"
"I mean...I guess I could come up with some sort of story…" Barry sighed and closed the folder, already beginning to come up with bits of a good excuse.
"Oh thank you," Belén took back the folder, promising to keep it safe. "Knew you'd come up with something."
"I'll look into that tonight, promise," Barry assured. "Now I really gotta go," he planted a kiss on her head and rushed to get into position.
Belén turned to do the same in the cortex room.
~ 0 ~
Just as planned, Dr. Wells had returned about an hour after five and had gone first into the cortex room where Caitlin and Belén were - discussing Belén's current article. Upon asking for Cisco, he was directed for the Bunker room on account of Cisco 'finally figuring out what went wrong with their trap for the Reverse Trap'. Wells was out of there within the next minute.
When Cisco met with Wells, he no longer donned his glasses nor wheelchair.
"You're him," Cisco began the play, "The Reverse-Flash. Joe was right this whole time, wasn't he?"
Wells condescendingly laughed. "Good ol' Joe. Joe West had his doubts all along. Even from that first night in the hospital, Joe knew something wasn't right. Cops... as inconvenient now as they will be in a hundred years."
"You killed Barry's mother. I want to know why," Cisco demanded, knowing that was what Barry was waiting for - the confession that would set his father free.
Wells moved towards the man, cleverly explaining, "It was never my intention to kill Nora. But from my perspective, she was already dead. It just happened sooner than it was supposed to."
Barry looked at Joe helplessly after that 'confession' but Joe shook his head, whispering. "No. That's not an admission."
"You're not gonna get away with this," Cisco warned Wells, but it didn't look like his words affected Wells in anyway.
"I'm not gonna get away with it?" he instead walked for Cisco but as soon as he was an inch from the trap Cisco activated the force-field. "Oh, you're smart. You're smart, Cisco. But you're not that smart."
Cisco's smug face faded the moment Wells took step into the trap.
Wells raised a hand meant to strike Cisco the same way that he had killed Cisco in the alternative timeline. Cisco stumbled back but the man was nearing him. Joe rose from his hiding spot with Barry, quickly shooting Wells with three bullets.
"No!" Barry panicked and sped to catch the bullets, but was only able to catch two of the three. The last one struck Wells right on the chest. "He didn't confess," Barry ran a hand through his hair as they stared down at Wells on the floor.
"Cisco!" they heard Caitlin and Belén running into the room. The two made their way towards the trap.
"Are you okay?" Caitlin asked their affected friend.
Cisco couldn't stop staring at the now-dead Wells. "Yeah. I'm never ever gonna sleep ever again, but, yeah, I'm okay."
"Tylenol works," Belén distractedly said, the corpse of the man who killed her father taking it all away.
"He's dead. He didn't confess. Joe, this was it," Barry felt an overwhelming helplessness fill him up. "My dad's gonna be in prison forever."
"Barry, I'm sorry," Joe profoundly apologized to him.
But then Belén yelped. "Oh my god - what is that?"
They all stared as 'Wells' corpse reverted back to that of the metahuman Hannibal Bates, without a face.
"I told you this before-" the real Wells spoke over the speakerphones of the room, "-I am always one step ahead...Flash. Allow me to reintroduce to you Mr. Hannibal Bates and his incredible ability to transform into any person he touches. I knew that ability would come in handy. I did not expect it to come in handy this soon."
"You used him! Like you used all of us!" Barry shouted angrily, wishing the man would be there facing him.
"Well, he served a purpose. Didn't take much convincing. Just the simple promise of his freedom."
"You ruined my life! All our lives!"
"We stood by you after everything that happened," added Caitlin, pretty much matching everyone else's anger.
"I can see how this must be difficult for you to understand, but trust me, your lives now are so much better because of what I have done for you," Wells had the audacity to tell the group.
There, Belén had to speak up, full of anger herself. "You're saying that my life got better because you murdered my dad?"
"That was another accident," Wells revealed, fueling her up even more. "But what's one more alteration to the timeline?"
Belén raised a hand to her mouth, it was something else to hear that her father had - originally - supposed to live longer. She'd been robbed - her father been robbed of his life because someone greedy had an "accident".
"Though I have to say I was never anticipating to create an evil version of Plasticine," Wells' words caught everyone's attention. "I guess I interfered too much with Maritza's timeline as well."
"What?" Belén immediately looked to the others to see their reactions. Seeing that no one, not even Barry, wanted to look her in the eye pretty much summed up that she was the only one out of the loop - well, her, Joe and Eddie.
"You want to kill me, go ahead. I'm not gonna fight you," Barry's words made Belén snap back to the present. "But just tell the police what you did. Get my dad out of prison!"
"I don't want to kill you, Barry. I need you," Wells corrected. "And…I also did not anticipate, as difficult as the past 15 years have been for me, how much I would come to love working with you. With all of you. And yet, that does not change what needs to happen."
"Then face me now!" Barry ordered in a loud shout.
"Oh, we will face each other again. I promise you. Soon. Very, very soon."
Cisco's phone vibrated with a new alert. "He's in the time vault!"
Barry wasted no time and sped out of the room, ignoring his friends' calls for him. He came into the time vault but only saw the empty costume display and Wells' wheelchair. What he did come across, however, was a wide panorama of various hidden cameras set all over his friends' environments. There was one of his lab at work, many in STAR Labs, some at Joe's, some even at Belén's home and work. But the one that stood out was that of Eddie's place.
"Oh my God, Iris," he soon realized she was the only one left out of the loop and thus the easiest to get to. Wells hurt everyone and Iris was the last one to deeply affect.
Everyone had relocated to the cortex when Barry returned.
"We have to find Iris," he told them.
"Why?" Joe asked, already alarmed.
"Wells. He's been watching all of us. He has surveillance footage set up everywhere. Our homes, my lab at the police station, Central City Picture News."
"Barry," Belén was scowling at him, of course furious with him and everyone else. "We're gonna need-"
"I'm sorry, I tried," Barry said before disappearing with a call to Cisco to get him the location of Iris and Eddie.
~ 0 ~
Just as Barry had feared, Wells had indeed gone after the out-of-the-loop person of the group. Eddie of course couldn't help with just one gun and was easily thrown to the side of the bridge they stood over.
Iris recognized perfectly the man in yellow but was frozen to her spot. "I know who you are. You killed Barry's mom. But you don't have to hurt anyone else."
But without saying a word, Wells raised a vibrating hand as he neared her. Iris' had never felt her heart beat so fast. Thankfully, Wells realized in time someone was coming and so left the place, but not without taking Eddie.
"Eddie!" Iris fell forwards in her shout but was kept sustained as Barry arrived.
"Hey, Iris. It's okay. It's me," Barry spoke through a modulated voice and with a blurred face.
"He took him. The Man in Yellow, he took Eddie-" Iris frantically tried explaining to him, thinking maybe he could catch up and find Eddie.
"I promise I will find him, okay?"
In tears, Iris stopped moving and looked at him. "What is happening?"
"Don't say anything to anyone. I swear to you, I will bring him back, all right?"
Iris saw that as he was going to leave her and reached for his hand, only to feel a struck of small electricity between her fingers and his when he sped off. And she remembered one person who had given off the same feeling long ago. But that had to be impossible, because...because, well...he would...he would have told her…
"Barry?" she was left to wonder on the bridge.
~ 0 ~
The night was of a full defeat in all aspects. To learn that for a year you had been played was something indescribable. But now to know that not only had her twin brother gone dark, but her older sister too.
Betrayal came nowhere close to describing what Belén felt.
She sat on the couch holding one of her favorite photographs of her family and just...released her feelings. Axel had been put to sleep upstairs so she was free to cry as she pleased. She wondered where her body could produce so much water honestly, but it wouldn't stop. She looked at her family, her brother who had meant to be with her still. Her brother who wasn't supposed to get powers; her sister who wasn't meant to lose her husband. They were supposed to be there at home with her.
But Eobard had ruined that.
Maritza had meant to be living with her husband, Christopher, with Axel. Hell, maybe she would have even had their second child by now. She knew Maritza always wanted two kids, Chris had wanted the same.
But Eobard had ruined that.
And then her father. Her father, the true accident, had meant to grown older. He was supposed to be working at his beloved job. He was meant to be there for her, for greatest milestones. Now there wasn't even anyone to walk her down an aisle in years to come. She knew that was one of his desires. He had done it for Maritza and always talked about the day his littlest girl would one day marry and move out
Eobard ruined that as well.
And then there was her. She was never meant to have all these losses. She wasn't meant to be living alone with her nephew, wondering where the hell her sister was. She was meant to be a journalist who danced on the side. She was meant to be normal. But now there she was, crying her grief in a silent, lonely home.
Thanks to Eobard.
The faint knock on her door brought her no surprise. She got up, leaving the family portrait on the couch as she walked up to the door. She reached to open it, knowing exactly who was on the other side, but was reluctant.
"Bells, please open up," Barry quietly called from the other side. "We have to talk."
"Now?" she couldn't help the sourness in her voice. "Now you want to talk?"
There was a brief silence but Barry willed himself to talk. She deserved far more than what he gave her. "I tried to tell you, but...but I couldn't find the right way."
Belén leaned against the door, closing her eyes as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She had thought about it, honestly, about the way Barry had been acting as of late. It made sense knowing what he knew about Maritza.
"It's my fault everyone's suffering. This Thawne man came after me and he ended up screwing up so many lives to get what he wanted from me. Look what he did to Caitlin and Ronnie? To the real Harrison Wells? And look at what he did to you. He hurt you and then he made me hurt you. Maybe it would've been better if Iris never introduced us, that way you wouldn't be here now."
Belén leaned away from the door and turned around to open it. She met Barry's overwhelmingly guilt-riddened face. "I would never regret meeting you," she said quietly.
"I ruined your family like he ruined mine. And you deserve better," Barry felt like that was the plain truth and it broke his heart.
"Thawne ruined our lives, Barry, not you," Belén cleared from tears from her face. "You should have told me about Maritza the moment you learned about it."
"I know-"
"-but I can understand it was a difficult thing to do," Belén said, honestly meaning it. If roles were reversed, she would have debated and kept quiet too. "But you-" she reached for both his hands and pulled him inside the house, "-are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and if it weren't for you, I would have cracked ages ago. You are the reason I stand here today, the reason I wanna help people. Because of you, I am who I am. We are not going to let Thawne get away with everything that he took away from us. We deserve better, and we're going to make sure we get what we deserve."
Barry nodded and pulled her into a much needed, tight hug.
#arrowverseocs#ocappreciation#barry allen#the flash#barry allen fics#the flash fics#barry allen imagines#the flash imagines#arrowverse fics#oc: Belén Palayta#oc: Belen Palayta#fic: it had to be you
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Im Kino
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I go to Holocaust movies alone.
Mostly I tell people that I don’t watch Holocaust movies, that I don’t go to Holocaust exhibits, because I am not the target market. I don’t need to be reminded that the Holocaust happened, I don’t need to remember that human beings were murdered because they had the misfortune of being born the scapegoat, masterminding the world from their tailors’ benches and lawyers’ offices, as if we found the cunning to run the world but had not yet figured out to convince people we were human.
But I do go, sometimes. And I go alone.
It isn’t even a matter of not wanting to go with goyim--it’s true that I don’t watch Jewish movies with them, that I never trust them to understand and I am unwilling to be their Virgil in the Inferno that is the layers of Jewish thought and ethics and culture, some circles so intangible to me that I am not certain I have the words to explain what they misunderstand. It’s true that I hate they way they look over at me every five minutes as if to gauge my reaction, as if to see if they are experiencing it enough. It’s true that I won’t let them mine my pain for their clarity, and It’s true that I get tired of how lapsed Christians never really lapse in their hearts, the same as a Jew can only wish to stop being one. We are always a part of the things that built us, even if we hate them.
Maybe this is why Jews are comfortable hating God as they walk into temple.
Bold of him to assume it’s even about him.
But no, I don’t watch Holocaust movies with other Jews either. In this, I am as solitary as an oyster, to steal the wisdom of Charles Dickens, and that feels right. I have long taken my pain and my irritation and tried to turn it into something beautiful, even as I tell myself it’s alright to let it sit. Its alright to let sand be sand.
But here I am again, writing about why I don’t let anyone come with me, thinking I can make it poetic. Sometimes hermit crabs make their shells from trash, you know. They’re adaptable.
The movie was about Jews who hid in Berlin, after it was declared free of Jews. People who hid who they were and who passed through the streets brushing shoulders with goyim who maybe didn’t want them to die but maybe didn’t care if they lived.
My throat caught three times. I am a Montanan as much as I am a Jew, and so I choked it back, and I looked away from the screen, and I ate the genocide of a family I should have known but that the Germans shot into a ditch, and that salt tore into my throat.
I just took a drink.
I was the only Jew in the room, and I know this because there are only fifty or sixty of us in the city, and there were maybe forty people in the theater, and the quick math I did in my head made me silently thankful that I wouldn’t have to deal with the spectre of talking to someone about my feelings. Out of our fifty or sixty, only fifteen or less of us are Fievel goes West Jews. Only fifteen of us know to pray in Hebrew and shut up in English, and have no trouble with these two truths.
I’ve known the guy who sells tickets behind the counter since I was twelve years old. He looks at me with a sense of pity and tells me he hears this movie is wonderful, and I hate him instantly. I don’t watch Jewish movies with goyim. Except when I’m outnumbered in a tiny one room art theater where the tickets and the popcorn and the screen are all run by the same guy, who knows I’m a Jew and for one miserable second I think he’s going to ask me to say something. He gets a line forming. I’m lucky.
What should I say? What could i say that would not be laying out the loss of fifty percent of the Jewish population like a goddamn breakfast buffet, so people can take what they want and feel satisfied, so they can leave the rest and never think about it?
Judaism teaches us that anger is useless and worse, that you must turn it into love and into action. That you should learn that so well that you should have to feign anger when someone trespasses. Y’Israel doesn’t mean “struggles with God’ for nothing. I’ve never gotten there. All I do is burn with a white-hot heat as the woman on screen dyes her hair blonde. All I do, as Cioma fakes a passport, is look around at the goyim in the crowd, and wonder how many of them would turn me in for a free year of Amazon Prime. The stakes in my head become losing their jobs, and I wonder instead how many wouldn’t.
I hate them all. But I say nothing, because anger is useless, and because you pray in hebrew but shut up in English, and because I couldn’t even answer the cries of whoever it was that was machine gunned into the dirt, a language I don’t speak and world I don’t know, but one that grabs at my ankles, like a hound from hell, since I was six years old.
The men are outside, smoking, after Berlin falls. A Russian soldier comes to shoot them, and they yell, over and over, that they aren’t Germans, they’re Jews, that Germany would never let them be both and so they are Jews.
The soldier doesn’t believe them. Hitler killed all the Jews, he says, his gun cocked and pointed and full of fury. But he has a moment. Where God pins him and he believes.
“Say the Shema.” He says.
The movie explains it for the forty nine other people in the room, but I know instantly, it wouldn't matter if they had never set foot in temple since their bris, they would know the shema, our prayer, our central call and the thing that should be on your lips as you die, and they do. They recite it beautifully and perfectly.
The Russian soldier nearly sobs. I bite my tongue and take a drink.
He was a Jew, too, serving in the Russian Army. He believed Hitler had done it, killed every German Jew, but here were two men reciting the Shema and living. Two Jews, if nothing else, had fought through all the years of war to live, and so we were not done yet.
They cast him well. His blue eyes are like mine, and I recognize the rage in them as he pointed his gun.
I go to Holocaust movies alone, because you never point a gun at anything you don’t want to kill.
I slip out as soon as the movie ends, when the lights are barely up. There’s a voice echoing in my head, one that says I have a responsibility to everyone who didn’t make it. I’ve never hidden. Maybe that’s the benefit of living in a place with almost no Jews. I fought for every point of that star my entire life, and I refuse to give an inch.
There’s a Nazi resurgence in the west. From Portland to Pierre, there’s flyers and threats and decisions to be made. My great grandmother said that if you are where people want to kill you, don’t be there. But she wasn’t a Montanan. She moved here from the present day Ukraine, and she was that until the day she died, whatever else she tried to be. We are always a part of the things that built us, however much we hate them.
I press against the door, and go out into the street and the grey and the coming night, the thoughts of a family with no papers and no chance to run on my mind.
The cold wind hits me in a staccato beat the way I imagine the bullets hit their bodies. But I’m a Montanan as much as I’m a Jew. I’m a grizzly bear with a tallit draped across my shoulders. I feel the bullets.
All it does is piss me off
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“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)
Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:
Had an unbelievably shitty day today.
I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.
Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.
And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”
“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.
If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.
The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.
Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?
And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.
But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.
My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.
#jewish#class#school#study abroad#russian#russian jewish#queer#trans#russian jew#jew#adhd#autism#diaspora tag
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#BehindTheTruth #WorkingWithGov.
Part 3:
{The following morning, I got dressed and had some breakfast. I was looking over the papers I had. Something caught my eyes, it was the letter I had gotten from my mother. It was the one that detailed my father's death and how she was hidden when it had happened. It has been three years now that he was killed but I had not known who had done it. I had thought it was a gang never in a million years. I read the letter twice but the part of who really did it I read that part at least three or four times now. I couldn’t believe what I had read, I picked up the phone to call my mother to hear it from her but she didn't answer when I called.
My mother finally answers the phone and tells me she is outside of my door. I open the door and my mom Helena walks in. We sat and talked for hours about the letter I had and learned how my father was really killed. I couldn't believe that he was killed by a group of lesser whatever that is.
Later on that day I went to the Caldwell police station to file a report of the killing. Some of the police officers look at me as if I was crazy. I end up walking away from them till a man stops me to speak to me about what I was really doing to talk to these people. I learned his name is Mharcus and he will help me with my report. We left the station and headed to his place to talk, once we arrived we sat in his living room to talk.
I spent hours explaining to Mhacurs about what I knew about my father killing. Mhacrus looked at me as he was going to do something but stop. Mhacrus ends up offering me a job when I tell him all about the history stuff I know. I agree to his offer and work for him, it seemed like the best bet to work with him to get these people killed for what they did to my family.
After leaving Mhacrus place, the more likely one of his drivers took me home. My mother was still here when I told her about the job from this government agent. She was happy that I found someone to help her look into this. My mother and I spent hours on the information I had on vampires and what one of my colleagues had on them as well.
I had shown my mother the ancient symbol for the vampires, the Egyptian ankh. The look that my mother had told me something but I knew to not ask her till she was ready to tell me whatever it was on her own time. I knew that my mom knew what the symbol meant and I knew not to push her to tell me things. My mother was a symbology expert just as me and sometimes we work together. If this ankh was what my mother reminded me it could be, I still couldn't place this thing to them.
I wasn’t sure if this ankh was connected somehow to vampires. There had to be another way to prove this and I didn’t know how not yet anyway. The more I look at this ankh the more it looks like it was true. I went to my library to look for some books that I had gotten from my travels but these few books I had were written in some weird language which I still have not been able to figure out. I had even talked to my mother about them and she couldn't figure them out. I was thinking of either making a few copies and have one of my colleagues look them over to see if they knew of the language or not. I could tell it was old but whoever wrote it could use some kind of different way of writing.
I went over to my desk to see if I could remember where I had found these books. I was searching my papers when one of the papers caught my eye of ancient Babylonia that talked about one of its first demons that became a vampire. There was a legend of Lilith/Lilitu (and a type of spirit of the same name) originally arose from Sumer, where she was described as an infertile "beautiful maiden" and was believed to be a harlot and vampire who, after having chosen a lover, would never let him go. Lilitu (or the Lilitu spirits) was considered to be an anthropomorphic bird-footed, wind or night demon and was often described as a sexual predator who subsisted on the blood of babies and their mothers. Other Mesopotamian demons such as the Babylonian goddess Lamashtu, (Sumer's Dimme) and Gallu of the Uttuke group are mentioned as having vampiric natures.
Lamashtu is a historically older image that left a mark on the figure of Lilith. Many incantations invoke her as a malicious "Daughter of Heaven" or of Anu, and she is often depicted as a terrifying blood-sucking creature with a lion's head and the body of a donkey. Akin to Lilitu, Lamashtu primarily preyed on newborns and their mothers. She was said to watch pregnant women vigilantly, particularly when they went into labor.
Then there was more information in Ancient Greek mythology containing several precursors to modern vampires, though none were considered undead; these included the Empusa, Lamia, and striges (the strix of Ancient Roman mythology). Over time the first two terms became general words to describe witches and demons respectively. Empusa was the daughter of the goddess Hecate and was described as a demonic, bronze-footed creature. She feasted on blood by transforming into a young woman and seduced men as they slept before drinking their blood. Lamia was the daughter of King Belus and a secret lover of Zeus. However Zeus' wife Hera discovered this infidelity and killed all Lamia's offspring; Lamia swore vengeance and preyed on young children in their beds at night, sucking their blood.
Like Lamia, the striges feasted on children, but also preyed on adults. They were described as having the bodies of crows or birds in general, and were later incorporated into Roman mythology as strix, a kind of nocturnal bird that fed on human flesh and blood. The Romanian vampire breed named Strigoï has no direct relation to the Greek striges, but was derived from the Roman term strix, as is the name of the Albanian Shtriga and the Slavic Strzyga, though myths about these creatures are more similar to their Slavic equivalents. Greek vampiric entities are seen once again in Homer's epic Odyssey. In Homer's tale, the undead are too insubstantial to be heard by the living and cannot communicate with them without drinking blood first. In the epic, when Odysseus journeyed into Hades, he was made to sacrifice a black ram and a black ewe so that the shades there could drink its blood and communicate.
Then there was more in India, tales of vetalas, ghoul-like beings that inhabit corpses, are found in old Sanskrit folklore.The vetala is described as an undead creature who, like the bat associated with modern-day vampirism, hangs upside down on trees found on cremation grounds and cemeteries. Pishacha, the returned spirits of evil-doers or those who died insane, also bear vampiric attributes.
The Hebrew word "Alukah" (literal translation is "leech") is synonymous with vampirism or vampires, as is "Motetz Dam" (literally, "blood sucker").
Later vampire traditions appear among diaspora Jews in Central Europe, in particular the medieval interpretation of Lilith. In common with vampires, this version of Lilith was held to be able to transform herself into an animal, usually a cat, and charm her victims into believing that she is benevolent or irresistible.However, she and her daughters usually strangle rather than drain victims, and in the Kabbalah, she retains many attributes found in vampires. A late 17th- or early 18th-century Kabbalah document was found in one of the Ritman library's copies of Jean de Pauly's translation of the Zohar. The text contains two amulets, one for male (lazakhar), the other for female (lanekevah). The invocations on the amulets mention Adam, Eve, and Lilith, Chavah Rishonah and the angels—Sanoy, Sansinoy, Smangeluf, Shmari'el, and Hasdi'el. A few lines in Yiddish are shown as dialog between the prophet Elijah and Lilith, in which she has come with a host of demons to kill the mother, take her newborn and "to drink her blood, suck her bones and eat her flesh". She informs Elijah that she will lose power if someone uses her secret names, which she reveals at the end.
There was so many in Various regions of Africa have folkloric tales of beings with vampiric abilities: in West Africa the Ashanti people tell of the iron-toothed and tree-dwelling asanbosam, and the Ewe people of the adze, which can take the form of a firefly and hunts children. The Eastern Cape region of South Africa has the impundulu, which can take the form of a large taloned bird and can summon thunder and lightning, and the Betsileo people of Madagascar tell of the ramanga, an outlaw or living vampire who drinks the blood and eats the nail clippings of nobles.
The Loogaroo is an example of how a vampire belief can result from a combination of beliefs, a mixture of French and African Vodu or voodoo. The term Loogaroo possibly comes from the French loup-garou (meaning 'werewolf') and is common in the culture of Mauritius. However, the stories of the Loogaroo are widespread through the Caribbean Islands and Louisiana in the United States.[80] During the late 18th and 19th centuries, there was a widespread belief in vampires in parts of New England, particularly in Rhode Island and Eastern Connecticut. There are many documented cases of families disinterring loved ones and removing their hearts in the belief that the deceased was a vampire who was responsible for sickness and death in the family, although the term "vampire" was never actually used to describe the deceased.
The deadly disease tuberculosis, or "consumption" as it was known at the time, was believed to be caused by nightly visitations on the part of a dead family member who had died of consumption themselves. The most famous, and most recently recorded, case of suspected vampirism is that of nineteen-year-old Mercy Brown, who died in Exeter, Rhode Island in 1892. Her father, assisted by the family physician, removed her from her tomb two months after her death and her heart was cut out and burnt to ashes.
Legends of female vampire-like beings who can detach parts of their upper body occur in the Philippines, Malaysia, Cambodia and Indonesia. There are two main vampire-like creatures in the Philippines: the Tagalog Mandurugo ("blood-sucker") and the Visayan manananggal ("self-segmenter"). The mandurugo is a variety of the aswang that takes the form of an attractive girl by day, and develops wings and a long, hollow, thread-like tongue by night. They use an elongated proboscis-like tongue to suck fetuses off pregnant women. They also prefer to eat entrails (specifically the heart and the liver) and the phlegm of sick people. The manananggal is described as being an older, beautiful woman capable of severing its upper torso in order to fly into the night with huge bat-like wings and prey on unsuspecting, sleeping pregnant women in their homes. The tongue is used to suck up blood from a sleeping victim.
I had so many books on vampires that I picked up on my travels around the world, on my last trip I was in Alexandria, Egypt. I went to the great library of Alexandria well now it is called the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, which functions as a modern library and cultural center, commemorating the original Library of Alexandrina. When I was there that was where I found a lot of the books that I was able to bring home with me just as long as I would send them back home. That was till I had a talk to the president of Egypt about my research I was doing on the books and that I would be using some of the books in my classroom. I would also teach a class of ancient Egyptian mythology to any of the students from Egypt. That is how I have these books, well some of them. The mysterious books that I did find were not in Egypt's great library but in two libraries one in London and one in Italy. The more I learned of this town, I learned that it had a mix of many cultures, from other countries.
I came out of my thoughts when my phone ping with a text message, it was from Mhacrus that he was asking me to come to the police station. I texted him back asking him what it was really about? I waited for his response, which was that there was some strange symbol that he wanted me to help explain what it is and what it means. I told him that I was coming in to see it and see if I can help him.
#WorkingWithGov
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Hi! So I saw your response on ask jumblr saying you were agnostic and everything and I found them super super interesting and was wondering if you could explain a bit more of how it’s been for you in a Jewish setting? Thank you 🌸💗🌸
Hi! So, for context, framework on what exactly I do believe (and what I don’t), because by some definitions, I’m an atheist, by others, I’m theistic, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m agnostic. I believe that there are rules and patterns inherent to reality; that there is order even within chaos; that human ignorance of those rules and patterns does not change their existence. I believe that to attempt to discern these patterns is, for lack of a better word, holy, that learning more about what the universe is and has and does and what we can make it do is inherently an approach to the divine. I believe that there is beauty in the world and that that beauty is subjective. When I say the blessings for a rainbow or a thunderstorm or for seeing the ocean, I say them in awe of what an amazing world we live in; our world is such a vast and strange and unfathomable place and it is only a tiny speck of nothing in the infinity of the universe and that I am so lucky to live in a time where people are beginning to head towards taking a leap to the next speck of dust. I believe that precision of mathematical patterns is beautiful, even when I don’t know the math causing the pattern. I believe that the chaos where there is an apparent lack of a pattern is beautiful because it reminds us of how much we’ve learned and how there is infinitely more still to learn. I believe that there are universal -or near-universal truths -but I also believe that those truths are more along the lines of “2+2=4″ than “God, created, in the beginning...” I do not believe in a personified creator who caused all of that. I do not believe in the Torah as divinely written or as a literal verbatim truth. I don’t know if I believe the Torah was divinely inspired or not or even what such inspiration -or an absence of it- would necessarily entail. I don’t believe there is a one true way. I don’t believe that justice or goodness or fairness are concepts that exist outside of the minds capable of conceptualizing them, but I do believe that they are important concepts -as is the variation people will necessarily have when trying to articulate exactly what those concepts are to them. I don’t believe in any form of afterlife. I also don’t disbelieve in any form of afterlife. I have one finite existence in which to live; I will focus whatever time I have on the practical effects I can have on the world around me and infinity, be it reward or punishment or neutrality or nothing at all, can take care of itself; I’ll have infinity to be concerned -or not -with that. In my experience, this isn’t particularly unusual in Jewish spaces. It does help that I have no issues addressing a communal conceptualization of what an infinite creator might entail, although admittedly, when praying communally, my approach tends to be either a focus on feeling what it is to be welcome and feel at home among people that has fuck-all to do with God in any way or along the lines of “start explaining unfairness and broken promises now”. As for practice... my mother grew up on the liberal end of the Orthodox movement and I grew up on the conservative end of the Conservative movement. Dad grew up on the liberal end of the Conservative side, but that was a fairly recent shift in his family; his parents grew up in traditional homes and have a frame of reference for it. And when it comes to practice, I tend to feel most comfortable in something relatively familiar, although I tend to go for more traditional practice as an individual and more liberal practice in a community. I like studying Talmud and the Tosafot. There is something incredibly comforting about seeing a verse and saying “hey, what the fuck is up with that” and then seeing that my people -my family -have been arguing that exact same question for thousands of years. I like keeping kosher. I’ve got OCD, and it serves as a wonderful externalization of the kind of rules I otherwise make for myself -except these rules come with built-in endpoints so I can’t get stuck in painful loops and there are people outside my brain who understand them. I’m not shomer shabbat at this point in my life for a number of reasons mostly outside my control, but I would like to go back to having a day dedicated to rest and mindfulness and not laboring, although my ideal level of shabbat observance is decidedly not “officially shomer”. I like looking at my parents’ ketubah -at the contract they signed before witnesses of the obligations to one another that they were choosing to take on and the consequences if they didn’t -and dreaming about someday having my own; about someday loving someone enough and having someone who loves me enough to say “yes, these are our oaths”. I like that I can walk into any synagogue anywhere in the world and have family and community and a frame of reference for what’s going on. I like that I was raised in between communities in such a way that I know the rules and how to pick up on them for communities I don’t know. I like singing together with people and that sense of the past and present connecting when the words are ancient and the tune is not. I love learning to leyn and comparative linguistics and looking at the words. I love working with kids and being able to say “this is your heritage, these words belong to you, but it’s your choice what you do with them, my job is just to make sure you know what the words mean.” I love (pre-pandemic, of course) the way my parents’ synagogue does a communal meal every week at the close of Shabbat -and then does a communal Talmud study and commentary -and I love being encouraged to raise my voice and ask questions and make comments and offer ideas. I love Havadalah and Kabbalat Shabbat and how we mark holidays and transitions in fire and how we use fire and stone to memorialize our dead. I love being able to say “here is my tradition, can you show me yours” to friends who aren’t Jewish and sharing food and songs and opening our homes to one another And there’s stuff I don’t like. I don’t like the way liberal communities tend to treat traditional practice as the exclusive provenance of Orthodoxy. I don’t like when I’m not counted in a minyan. I don’t like being seated across a mechitzah. I don’t like the way that, for all our communities are family, there’s often an element of hostility towards the other denominations. I’m not a fan of taharat mishpacha in its entirety -or tzniut, for that matter. I don’t like Ashkenormativity and the way we’re mostly letting what’s left of our older community languages die in favor of Hebrew. I don’t like when people insist that Halacha is inherently divine -and I don’t like when people insist that it should all be discarded. But all of that, all those things I dislike? None of those -or at least, none of the parts I specifically dislike about them -are, by my understanding, inherent to Judaism. Those are things inherent to people -and to communities. People like the dichotomy of “anyone more [thing] than me is a fanatic and anyone less [thing] than me doesn’t actually care about it”. Whenever there’s a community and an opportunity for some people to use it to reinforce a social dynamic that they see as favoring them, there will always be people who do so. There will always be people disagreeing on what they find empowering vs oppressive. There will always be a struggle between tradition for tradition’s sake and progress for progress’s sake. I have clarified that I’m agnostic to my parents. Dad’s response was “yeah, I guess a lot of people in your generation don’t really need God, do you...” (tone was sincere and contemplative; he’s genuinely interested in the millennial zeitgeist, and it’s led to multiple conversations about generational theology). Mom’s response was “🤷♀️ That’s between you and God, now did you want a roast for shabbos or not because I need to take it out to defrost” (she is not particularly interested in discussions of theology or philosophy with me, but we do talk about practice a lot).
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01/03/2021 DAB Transcript
Genesis 5:1-7:24, Matthew 3:7-4:11, Psalms 3:1-8, Proverbs 1:10-19
Today is January 3rd welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is a joy and an honor to be here with you as we greet a brand-new week and step into it together. This will…well…this is the beginning of the first full week of this brand-new year that we are in. So, we’re kinda…other than New Year's Day we’re kinda crossing into a new threshold. And it's interesting, day by day step-by-step as we move through the Bible and this becomes the rhythm of our lives we look for these marks in time. We begin to realize that there's a rhythm to the year, a rhythm to our lives, a rhythm to the seasons and we are constantly reminded that we can start over. So, here we are beginning our first full week of the Bible, which means we will…we’ll read from a new translation. This week we’ll read from the Christian Standard Bible. I should probably explain that. We change translations each beginning of each new week as we move through the Scriptures. And, you know, if you’ve been around the Bible you might have a favorite translation or you may like an older translation or there may be a favorite one because you believe it's more accurate. But here’s the thing. The Bible was written in Hebrew, it was written in Greek, and some…some parts of it were written in Aramaic. So, those would be the native tongues, the native languages that these texts originally found themselves in in their originals. But if you speak more than one language, you know, like how you would communicate something in one language may not be how you would communicate it in another. And you may have one word and one language that has a smaller vocabulary that could have many different kinds of corollaries in a language that it's being interpreted into or brought into. Therefore, any Bible that we read in English is therefore an interpretation on the original language. And Bible scholars and linguists and historians, like entire teams of people over thousands of years, for that matter, have done this work, teams of people trying to get it exactly right, which brings up all kinds of different interpretation, problems. Like maybe something is said in one language and if you interpret that as closely as possible, word for word you could read it and it wouldn't make sense, or it…the…the language is incorrect. It doesn't read in the new language the way that it does in the old language. So, then you have to rearrange the words so that it reads with like appropriate English. Or sometimes there’s a concept and that concept doesn't really work in the new language of the culture and the language doesn't really have room or doesn't make any sense. So, then you have to wrestle through, like this is the concept…like this is what's being communicated, but what is the best way to say that accurately in this new language, like English for example. And, so, some translation teams are trying to word for word very very meticulously try to get this right. Other teams would look at…at the overarching themes - like what is being said here, how do you say that in English? So, rather than us just going, “well, this is where we’re going to plant our flag, the English has the most translations of any other language available, the most scholarship, the most teams that have worked over decades and centuries. Why not take advantage of all of it and bring the most comprehensive context that we can to our journey? And, so, that's why we do what we do in rotating each week and just picking up where we left off. It’s not like we’re reading one book from this translation and this book from the next. It's…it’s just part of the flow each week. We pick up right where we left off. We already know the story that we’re in and we just pick it up in another translation. And, so, this week will read from the Christian Standard Bible and pick up where we left off yesterday. Genesis chapters 5, 6, and 7.
Introduction to the book of Psalms:
Okay. So, we’re at our Psalms portion of our reading today. And this is all part of this kind of moving in, moving into this year, finding our rhythm, unpacking our stuff, getting settled. And since we began January 1st with four new books, rather than making that superlong when there's so much other ground to cover we’re just kinda taking the first four days to move into the books that we are reading. So, January 1st we talked about Genesis yesterday we talked about Matthew. So, let's talk about, Psalms. Psalms or the Hebrew word Tehillim means praises. And what we find in the Psalms is a collection of 150 songs and hymns and congregational singing's and individual poems of worship and call and response liturgical worship. It's…it’s basically five books in one. And we know this because like when we come to the different sections of Psalms it tells us, this is book 1, this is book 2. And they…they're basically classified by who wrote them or they’re classified by theme or their purpose, their use. And some of them praise God and speak words of praise, others speak about God, His character or His might or His actions. Some of these psalms are very sad, like really really bring out, give language to lament, regret, repentance, and there are others that are songs of thanksgiving. So, these…this collection of beautiful poetry and songs and worship are definitely meant…meant to lead people in the worship of God but in all different aspects - praise, giving glory, adoration, reverence, honor, any circumstance of life - because that's what we'll see kind of being baked into this ancient culture that will form right before our eyes in the Old Testament, that everything, everything they do, everything they say, every motivation of their heart is to turn them back to God reminding them of who they are and who God is and where they're going. And, so, Psalms is this beautiful book containing some of the most beautiful literature ever written in humanity. And a primary composer of many of the Psalms is an ancient king of Israel. His name is David. And we have certainly not gotten to know David and it will be a little while before we are introduced to David, but once we get there, we will get to know David well. There's just a lot of material in the Bible about David's life. And we learn an awful lot about ourselves in David's life, but we haven't met him yet. And we do meet him in the Scriptures we’ll be, you know, we’ll be being told the story of his life. But in the Psalms, we really get to know the heart of this king, this musician that loved to communicate through music and poetry. And then other writers of the Psalms would be David's son Solomon who we’ll also get to know in detail. Then there are the sons of Korah and there is a man named Asaph and Ethan and then there are several of the Psalms that…they’re anonymous, the…the author is unknown. But the purpose of the Psalms is to bring the people together, bring them together in worship to the God of Israel, to their God as they came together formally and congregationally but also as they would go home and sing these songs as it would be a part of their daily life. And that's still a tradition until this very day. And, so, today, Psalms 3.
Prayer:
Father we thank You for Your word and we thank You for bringing us into this brand-new week. Right here at the beginning of this brand-new year all things are new, and all things are waiting for us to live into them. And we acknowledge here as we will so many times when we mark time, it's all in front of us. It has not yet happened. How we choose the choices that we make are going to write the story of our future. And we get to choose. And we are grateful for Your word to inform our choices and challenge our motivations before they turn into destructive actions. So, here we are beginning of a new week. We humble ourselves before You and ask, Holy Spirit come, lead us into all truth we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.
Announcements:
dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it is the website, and it’s where you find what's going on around here. So, yeah…I mean…I say this most every day, but it is where you find out what’s going on around here. It’s how you stay connected. Reminding you of the other programs - Daily Audio Bible Kids. I talked about that yesterday. We launched that with Ezekiel on the 1st. So, if you have kids this is a great resource for going through the New Testament together with your children. There’s Daily Audio Bible chronological, which my wife leads that team, leads that effort going through the Bible chronologically. And she…she took over from our daughter China who is taking this year to become a mother and prepare for that. So, Jill is in the driver's seat in the Chronological community. And it is in good hands with her. So, check that out. Check out the Daily Audio Bible Proverb. That moves us through the Proverbs, the entire book of Proverbs in a month. Takes about five minutes a day. And you can also check out the Daily Audio Bible Psalm which is about two minutes a day. And that just kind of keeps us rooted. It’s like we have the Daily Audio Bible, and then we have these little vitamins along the way, we can…little resources that we can tune into just pour the Scriptures and wisdom into our lives. So, check that out.
If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage. I thank you profoundly and humbly for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.
And if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, it's the little red button up at the top that looks like a hotline button. So, just you can’t miss that. And just press that and share from wherever you are in the world, or you can dial 877-942-4253.
And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.
Community Prayer and Praise:
This is Candace from Oregon please pray along with me. Lord thank you for this place where we can gather together in prayer. There are heroes among us, the nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, physical therapists across the nation and the world who are dealing with heavy heavy pressures and many deaths to Covid. We pray Lord that you will protect and guard them, strengthen them, strengthen them emotionally, give them extra, extra help with their families, with their…with their…all of their other concerns as well. Surround them Lord, renew them, protect them from trauma themselves. Protect them especially of course from the Covid virus. Lord, I pray that this virus will back off very, very soon and that the vaccine efforts will go exceedingly well. Thank you, Lord for everything that you’re doing. In Jesus’ name we pray.
Hello, I’m calling from Arizona and I’m a long-time listener but this is my first time ever calling in and today I just feel very compelled, very overwhelmed. Like I know that I am just having a bad day doesn’t mean that I’m having a bad life. I just feel like I never ask for help and am always trying to keep it together, but I can’t always be strong. And sometimes I just feel like I just need somebody to just lift me up. And, so, that’s why I’m here to ask for prayer is. Please just lift me up and help me to keep walking. I just feel scared and overwhelmed and I’m just tired. I can’t always be strong. Thank you in advance for your prayers in Jesus’ name. Amen.
Happy New Year’s Eve family it’s Carla Jean from Nevada. I don’t know about the rest of you but when Brian says “this concludes the Bible for this year”. I cry every single year. I don’t know why. I just think it’s…I don’t know…I’m just so thankful for all of you. You are such a blessing. And Brian when you say that blessing over each of us on New Year’s Eve, I receive it. I receive it for myself and I receive it for all my brothers and sisters here. Thank you for being such a great pastor to us and shepherding us well. I think of the Daily Audio Bible as manna. It’s…every day it feeds me and I’m just so thankful for this family. Add welcome to the family, all of our new brothers and sisters that are joining us for 2021. You will not be disappointed. Please join us on social media, on the Facebook group so that we can get to know you better. My goal for this year is to call in and pray for you more. You guys know the year I’ve had, and you have lifted me in prayer and I…I pray back for all of you but I want you to know that I am praying. So, I’m gonna call in more and pray more. I love you all. I encourage everybody to donate to the Daily Audio Bible because we are being fed and this ministry must continue forever. I love you all and Happy New Year.
Hello DABs, hi Brian, my name is Karen Bentley-Green and I’m in New York. So, I started listening to DAB back in January of this year and O my gosh it has been such a wonderful experience. It has been such a journey. Thank you for inviting me to your campsite. It has been such an awesome experience just being able to go through the Bible with you. You have such inspiration. You have such wisdom, and you are not afraid to impart it. And for that my friend I say thank you. And for that my friend I say God bless you. My prayer is that God will continue to bestow wisdom upon you, to continue to pour fresh anointing, pour fresh oil upon you because this assignment, it’s…I know it’s not easy because I started, and I fell away many a times while I was doing this with you. So, I know it cannot be easy. But your tenacity and your faithfulness O my God…I so…I am so honored to be a part of this. I bless God for you and I thank God for you and I pray that He will bless you, bless your ministry, bless your family and everything that you put your hands to. I am so happy to have completed the Bible with you. Thank you so much. And for those who have fallen by the wayside. Hey, pick it up back again to just continue because at the end of the day you will finish, right? And finish strong to. So, everyone a happy new year a prosperous new year. God bless everyone and I’m looking forward to DAB next year. Thank you, Brian. God bless.
Happy new year DABbers and Brian along with your family. This is the Cross Carrier from the Bay Area. I’m a first-time caller but a long time listener. Has to have been over a decade since I’ve been listening to the DAB. Yeah, I might not call but I do give those silent prayers to everyone…for everyone that call in. I hear your word and am praying for you. Right now, I’m praying that you pray for me. This is my resolution, to call in because things aren’t working the right way. You know, I need help for my brothers and sisters through Christ to pray for me to get through alcoholism, cigarette smoking, pornography, you name it. I just want to get on a narrow path and do things right the way that God wants me to do. I…you know I tried everything else and it’s not working. And you know I can’t just continue this way trying to insert the Lord and to things like that afterwards. It just don’t mix. 2021 it got to be a change. Covid 19 has to go away and all of these things that I do has to go away as well. God bless you all. Happy new year. And I will be calling a lot more now.
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A few tips for a tutor (or a student)
Now, I’m a tutor. I never studied it, I’m a high school graduate who was looking to earn some money to pay for driving lessons so their parents wouldn’t have to. But somehow I apparently got better results than any adult that taught those kids before. So here’s what I learned.
People know the things that make them comfortable in learning. They know them better than me. On my first lesson with any student, I make it very clear that this is not school, and if there’s anything that makes them feel more focused, be it music, or playing with their pencils, or drumming on the table or anything at all, they can do it. So one of my students always fidgets with her pencil. Another student I had would mix cards. One had the tv on as background noise.
Learn different ways to do the same thing. Not every method of teaching works for every student, and sometimes I had to go through five different ways of explaining the same assignment before my student got the idea. That’s okay and natural. Everyone’s brains work differently.
Learn not just how to do something, but why. Especially important if you teach maths. Teachers don’t actually teach what Pi means until high school, and sometimes not even then, when you use Pi since 6th grade. For most of my students, learning what Pi actually meant made it a lot easier to study circles and learn the formulas related to them. So many other formulas too. When you teach your students the “Why”, it can help them make sense out of the “How”. It doesn’t always work, but in many cases it does so it’s worth it.
If there’s a difficulty somewhere, try playing with outside factors. The problem might be somewhere different than you think. In the year I’ve been doing this, I met kids that told me “I hate reading, I can’t do it” (I teach most of my students English as a second language, so it’s usually English where I encounter it, but I got it in Hebrew too). But the simple act of moving the text to Word, dividing it to smaller paragraphs and changing the font to something more comfortable to read (you’d be surprised how nice Comic Sans can be to read), made a huge difference. She’s thriving. No, it didn’t solve all the problems. She still has a very small vocabulary, but all of a sudden she can read. She doesn’t mix the letters as much as she did. She doesn’t skip lines or struggle with words she knows as much as she used to.
Divide the studying time. I work on full hour basis, and some of my students take an hour and a half, or two hours. Divide studying times.If you have multiple subjects, divide your lesson into different parts. If you have only one subject, allow short breaks. I let my students complain about their school experience. I share some of mine with them. I let them tell me about their day or week while we’re working, or when we take a break. Maybe this works just because I’m closer to their age, but I seriously doubt that, because I used to do the same with my seventy years old piano teacher.
Shorten the studying time if you need. Leave something in the end that your student actually likes as a reward. Like, we studied boring maths for a whole hour? Let’s finish with thirty minutes of talking about black holes, cause holy shit they’re cool. The subjects are endless. In those end segments, I already discussed god and biblical stories, Greek myths, black holes, hemophilia and how Queen Victoria almost killed all of Europe’s monarchies, axolotls, water bears, and platypuses (she didn’t know they were a real thing. She thought they’re something Phineas and Ferb invented). This Sunday I’m planning a short lesson about the immune system and vaccines (we didn’t get to do them in a while because of tests).
Music is the best way to learn a language. When I teach 6th graders English, I let them analyse Beatles songs. That way they enjoy music while also learning vocabulary and grammar. Disclaimer on this one: Queen songs are NOT good for this. They’re for older students to learn English. Not for 6th graders.
Can’t believe I have to say that, but don’t talk over your students. Be on their level. Kids learn a lot better when you are their equal instead of an authority figure. Humanise yourself. Tell them about a failure you had in the subject you’re studying, cause they’re most likely failing the subject now and are terrified that you’ll judge them.
While we’re at it, establish that you’re never going to judge them for failing, not understanding or asking questions. You’ll need to remind them every lesson that if there’s anything they don’t understand they need to stop you and ask, and you’ll never judge them. No matter how stupid they think their question is, no matter how many times they asked it, it’s okay and you’ll be happy to explain it again.
Don’t let your students say “I can’t do it”. A kid that says “I can’t do it”, or “I’m just not good at it”, is a student who is giving up. Change that way of thinking. Turn “I’m not good at it” into “we didn’t find the right way to do it yet”. When they say “I can’t do it”, point at a similar assignment that they already completed, and say “I don’t know about you, but this makes me think you can definitely do it”. Let them know you believe in their abilities. Challenge them to think that they can do it.
While answering an assignment, ask the student to tell you everything that comes to their mind. No matter how stupid they think it is, ask them to tell you their first thought. I learned that often those first thoughts, and the entire thought process, are really close to what needs to be done. They just need to look at it differently.
Sometimes, you won’t be able to teach. Accept that. In some lessons, your student will be unfocused, or bothered by something else, or distressed after something happened in their life. Maybe they had a fight with their siblings, maybe they have a relative who isn’t doing so well, maybe they had drama in their friend group. It happens. It’s out of your control. Try your best to help them focus, but accept that maybe you won’t succeed. Accept that maybe they’ll need to just vent it all, or they won’t be cooperative, or they’ll take their anger and frustration out on you (especially relevant in younger students). It happens. Don’t let them take their anger out on you, but don’t get angry back. Be kind and patient. Even if you didn’t manage to teach anything that lesson, you might be able to help a little, and that matters just as much if not more.
For the love of everything that is good, back your student up in front of their parents! If the parent belittle’s the child’s achievements while the three of you are together, tell them that you think they’re making a great effort and improving very well. If it was a hard lesson, and you didn’t manage to learn a lot, say you decided to give them a break in studying in order to learn to understand them better, so the next lessons would be more beneficial to all of you. Don’t get me wrong, if the kid doesn’t make an effort it’s a whole other story, and you should make the parents aware that there is a problem (still, without pointing fingers and shaming your student, and with as much subtlety and gentleness possible). But back your student up in front of their parents. Let them feel that if their parents are pressuring them too much, they have some form of authority that says “yes, things aren’t as good as we���d like them to be, but your efforts and improvements are recognised and appreciated”. If possible, help the parent acknowledge and recognise the improvement and effort.
Dont assume that your student is neurotypical!!! Please, don’t assume that your student is neurotypical, because if you do, you won’t be able to recognise the signs that they might not be. And if you don’t recognise the signs, you won’t know to help them. Many kids who need tutoring are ND. I suspect the majority of my students are ND. If I didn’t look for the signs I know (being ND myself and learning in a class full of other ND people), I wouldn’t have been able to help them study the way I did. According to their parents, I managed to help them in a way no other tutor ever did. One of my students’ grades in English jumped from 60 to 100 after two lessons, just two, because I knew how to approach the problems differently, in a way that would help and make sense for her.
All these advice are phrased as advice to a tutor teaching other students, but honestly? These would’ve probably helped me as a student as well. Treat yourself the way you would treat a student you are teaching. Learn what works for you. Listen to yourself. Be kind to yourself. I know studying is hard, and school can be hell sometimes, but you can get through.
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