fakevixxthings:

vixx as things my friends have said

hakyeon: look, i don’t care if it’s only by a month, i’m older than you so respect me, child

taekwoon: have you ever thought about if your bed suddenly turned into food?

jaehwan: look, that’s so cute. like me

wonshik: i’d still beat your ass in a fight even if i look like a chopstick

hongbin: i know i’m good looking, but you can stop staring now

hyuk: i’m your friend so it’s my job to make your life suck

iamfitzwilliamdarcy:

i made a comment about wirt’s reaction to beatrice’s betrayal last year but i never got around to actually posting about it, so here are (finally) some thoughts:

@allieinarden has a great post considering Wirt’s dad and his own insecurities that have led us all, instinctively, to conclude he’s been left (rather than his dad has died), and i’m just gonna quote a small part of it here rather than paraphrase bc she’s Too Smart to not read:

It fascinates me that with all the guesses I’ve run across, even in a series fraught with specters of all shapes, I’ve never seen anyone speculate that Wirt’s father might be dead. There’s nothing to contradict it–we only have mention of a remarriage, not of a separation–and Wirt’s attitude toward his mother’s new husband could just as easily be explained by a stubborn, Hamletesque devotion to his father’s memory. But no one’s gone there, because we instinctively feel that Wirt was not merely bereaved but abandoned. His particular line of insecurity–namely, an almost total lack of trust in his fellow human beings–is very telling, as is his refusal to make a stir in the world. That children of divorce commonly blame themselves and their own actions for the separation is proverbial to the point of cliché. Wirt has survived the years since his father’s departure by keeping his head down, beset by the fear that if he does anything noticeable–confess to his crush, play the clarinet in public–something bad will happen.

Going off that, Wirt doesn’t really seem to have friends. He keeps people at a distance, and it’s more than just being nervous to talk to his crush. He watches the football game (or, well, mostly Sarah) from the other side of the fence before Greg steals his tape and forces his hand to talk to the other girls; he won’t go into the party because he wasn’t invited even though everyone seems super cool about him being there and they all say hi to him. He won’t go to the graveyard bc Jason Funderburker will be accompanying Sarah. 

As Allie points out his particular brand of insecurities, too–he’s constantly explaining why he does the things he does, like he’s trying to justify it. He’s proud of his costume until someone asks him what he’s supposed to be and he just stammers out some “I just thought”s and never even gives an actual answer. He’s terrified of being Known, of, as Allie says, even being Noticed. 

But Wirt opens up to Beatrice. He tells her his Secrets that are Too Secret (and she validates them! He’s normal, not Too Weird for her!). He talks about things he knows–housing styles, clarinet. He even sings and dances around her when they’re on the Frog Ferry, happy enough about almost being home that he doesn’t seem to remember to be insecure–even better! She encourages him to play the Basoon after he protests he’ll be bad at it and “nobody wants to hear that” (albeit bc she thinks it WILL be bad and she’s trying to get them kicked off the ferry but he doesn’t know that)…and…he does!! he plays the basoon in front of someone! 

Her betrayal, I think, is the start of his despair. It’s funny because he’s definitely mad at her, but what he says is “I thought we were friends” and then, later, “I shouldn’t have trusted anyone.” It’s self-recrimination–he’s mad because he knew, he knew, not to trust anyone, he knew (if anyone knew him) he’d be abandoned again. As Allie reminds us: His particular line of insecurity–namely, an almost total lack of trust in his fellow human beings–is very telling

The one time he does trust someone, she betrays him. He’s angry enough to leave, but he thinks she’s left them first. He doesn’t need her, he tells Greg. He tells Greg he, Greg, can do whatever he wants. It’s an implicit he doesn’t need Greg either. Wirt doesn’t need anyone (but, lol, if that were true he would’ve been lost to the Unknown a long time ago). 

(The immediate next episode, he finds Lorna and as soon as he starts kinda liking her, she tries to eat him. He manages to save Lorna, which you’d think would be a positive! But it’s not his to stay with her, or Lorna’s to leave Auntie Whipsers, and so she never really Knows him. I’m inclined to think he wouldn’t let her even if they had more time together.)

And that’s when he starts despairing–he’s been betrayed by Beatrice, who he never should have trusted or let Know him in the first place. Beatrice was also their Only ticket home–she’d promised Adelaide would help them. Their other option was to follow the Woodsman, and Wirt thinks he’s the Beast. Without Beatrice, Wirt has no plan–he can’t trust anyone to get them out of the Unknown, but as much as he says he doesn’t need anyone, he can’t get them out himself either. What else is there to do but lay down and submit to fate?

But Beatrice comes back. Greg being taken is already a wake up call for Wirt, and he’s terrified and recognizes how much he’s failed his brother, but he also has to be rescued by Beatrice and she’s the one who helps him find Greg again. 

Intent

jumpingjacktrash:

amysubmits:

cynicaldom:

When communicating to someone about a sensitive topic, I’ve found it’s helpful to explain why you want to talk about it. If you say you’re worried, or hurt, or just needed to get it off your chest, it can help the other person not get defensive and then more completely process what you’re saying. 

Many relationships die by a thousand little cuts. Little problems that on their surface are penny-ante. But the real offense, the hurt, is unresolved. And the little hurts pile up and the resentment builds until things fall apart.

It’s very easy for people to read a bad intent when you’re communicating a problem. Sometimes it’s a natural defense mechanism, if you think someone is just being shitty then you don’t have to really hear them. But it can just as often simply be an incorrect assumption. Communicating your intent can stop that from happening and help the conversation come to a more fruitful resolution.

But if you break it down, your intent is not just a lubricant to keep the conversation productive. Your intent is the point of the conversation. More often than not the problems we have with each other are not the real issue, it’s how those problems make us feel. When you communicate your intent, you’re fully explaining the issue that needs to be resolved.

“I’ve been missing you, could you skip your TV show tonight so we can play a video game together?” works better than “You don’t give me enough attention.” or “you watch too much TV.”

Or “I suspect it’s just my anxiety, but I’m worried that you’re angry with me because you’ve been kind of quiet.” is better than just “Why are you so distant?”

For years I worried that we couldn’t discuss problems because it would cause a fight. That was how the world I lived in as a kid worked. Having a partner who is open to hearing you is huge, but choice of wording helps even when you have a partner who wants to hear you. 

very good advice. it really helps when you give the other person something actionable. a request, a suggestion, an offer to brainstorm. don’t complain; troubleshoot.

you don’t have to be emotionless or conciliatory. it’s ok to express anger. just be mature about it, and respect the other person. don’t go on a power trip, don’t leverage your legitimate gripes to make them grovel. keep your eyes on the prize. if you don’t know what the prize is, the next step is to tell them so and invite them to help you figure it out, not to moan until they miraculously do the right thing at random. even when you’re super upset you can still apply these skills.

wrong: “this place is a damn landfill because nobody but me does any housework!”

right: “there is some serious housekeeping fail going on around here. it’s kinda driving me bugfuck. i want to sit down and take a look at how we do the housework, because how we’re doing it right now sucks.”

see how the second one doesn’t blame? blame’s not important. responsibility is important, but that has to be worked out calmly or it’s not going to be functional. the first person is picking a fight; the second person is trying to solve a problem. you’ll notice they’re not smoothing ruffled feathers or acting apologetic, they’re clearly quite annoyed. but they’re aiming their anger at the situation, not the person.

even if they are angry with their housemate, working those feelings out is beyond the scope of the conversation. trying to combine venting with chore planning is, imo, the number one cause of screaming kitchen fights on planet earth.