#like ill be doing online school this year so not going back to public school but still dude i dont want to

[n0ct0urn1quet]

think i migght acactully drop out of school lmao i cannot do this shit anymore . i was fine a second ago but the thoughts got too strong and so now im Mad

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.

I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.

I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.

Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.

I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.

Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…

Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️

So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

What are these acronyms?

[theculturedmarxist]

What would the world look like if the pandemic never ended, if Covid was causing widespread, long-term illness, and if all this was being covered up by the government?

You might expect to see record levels of sickness and disability. You might expect to see hard evidence that the ‘herd immunity’ plan failed, with children continuing to die at staggering rates. You might expect record numbers of absences in schools and workplaces, tons of canceled concerts and airline flights, more sudden/unexplained deaths in all age groups, and a rise in opportunistic infections (caused by damaged immune systems), like fungal infections or strep A. There would be a coordinated effort to hide data from the public to obscure the truth of the threat. Hospitalizations, cases, and transmission numbers would all be hidden or manipulated. The government probably wouldn’t try to hide the data all at once, because it would be easier to dismantle reporting over the course of several months or years.

Eventually, updates might cease altogether (despite rising cases). The CDC would likely have to hide death data as well. Powerful people with vested interests in keeping the economy running would probably engage in astroturfing online, spreading misinformation to convince the public the threat has passed (to get people back to work and boost corporate profits). The rich and powerful would continue to take precautions, while telling you everything’s fine. This would take a lot of effort, and there would have to be a pretty carefully-coordinated campaign to confuse (and wear down) the public. They might tell you repeatedly how much you shouldn’t be panicking. Hospitals might prioritize a sense of “normalcy” over infection control, so as not to be held (legally and financially) responsible for their role in the unfolding disaster.

The ruling class (who would have access to the truth of the situation) would use their knowledge of what’s coming to invest in long-term care facilities, nursing homes, disability services, and hospices. Some people would obviously figure out what’s going on (like scientists, for example) and start shouting about it from the rooftops. So you’d probably see extreme censorship measures happening on social media sites. As conditions worsen, government officials might start preparing the public to accept mass death, reassuring us that it will only happen to the ‘vulnerable.' Life insurance companies would take note and move accordingly, denying coverage to people suffering from Long Covid. Meanwhile, the scientific evidence would keep mounting.

We are still in a pandemic.

The pandemic is not over. Basically everything you have been led to believe about the virus is a lie. Covid is more dangerous, more transmissible, and more out of control than everyone in power is telling you. We are not back to normal. We are in freefall.

We were lied to at every step of the way. First we were told not to panic and to stay six feet apart. We were told not to panic, ordered by the surgeon general not to buy up face masks, which we were assured we wouldn’t need. Then, we were told to only wear masks if sick or caring for someone with symptoms. When we were all finally told to wear masks in April 2020, we were given bad information about which masks could keep us safe. Cloth and surgical masks do not protect against aerosols (respirators do). And we were told by the people in power these flimsy masks would keep us safe. This was a lie.

The lies that killed us

Documents show that the World Health Organization knew from the start that SARS-Cov-2 was airborne.  They knew that “[a]irflow and ventilation were identified as important factors influencing efficient spread in hospitals,” but did not provide ventilation guidance to the public for years. Instead, this information was withheld from the public; they told the world that Covid spread through droplet transmission and repeatedly insisted Covid was not airborne. Because WHO withheld this crucial information, people around the world did not take necessary airborne precautions, like wearing respirators instead of baggy surgical masks.

Images from the World Health Organization’s publications acknowledging airborne transmission of SARS, juxtaposed with their guidance to the public in 2020. Compiled by Maarten De Cock (@mdc_martinus) on Twitter.

When the vaccines were first made available in late 2020, many leaders and prominent experts told people that the shots would prevent transmission entirely. This was never true; vaccines provide some protection, but don’t stop transmission (and only slightly reduce your risk of Long Covid). Americans were told by the president that they had a choice: “vaxxed or masked,” leading many vaccinated people to stop masking.

Throughout 2021, Americans were told repeatedly that Covid was only a threat to the unvaccinated. The CDC confidently asserted through December 2021 that “Cases of reinfection with COVID-19 have been reported, but remain rare.” While they were pushing this claim, the CDC was conveniently no longer reporting vaccination status alongside information on Covid deaths. (That information would remain hidden until April of 2022).

Once vaccinated people were getting sick with Covid in large numbers and the data could no longer be fully suppressed, the government told everyone that a vaccine plus a breakthrough infection would give you hybrid immunity. Experts declared that this form of ‘immunity’ would be the ticket to ending the pandemic. Then Omicron happened and cases skyrocketed.

The lies continued from there. We were told Omicron was somehow ‘milder,’ we were told that because nearly everyone got it, that we would finally reach population-level ‘immunity.’

But viruses do not automatically evolve to become milder. And Covid did not become milder; it became more insidious, more contagious, and more immune evasive. We now know it is neuroinvasive (even in cases with ‘mild’ acute symptoms), vascular, mass disabling, and far deadlier than what official totals have led us to believe. We know now that most transmission happens asymptomatically, and that reinfections are even more dangerous than initial infections. We know that at least one in ten infections leads to Long Covid, a debilitating neurological disease with no cure. We know this virus dysregulates immune systems, destroys T cells, and directly infects arteries in the heart. And as a result of all of this, we’re seeing unprecedented levels of sickness on a global scale.

We are living through an ongoing democide, being covered up in real time.

Hiding the bodies

The people in power have used every tool at their disposal to downplay, lie about, and cover up the truth of this pandemic. As the cases continued to rise (despite their assurances that things were under control), the US government took even greater steps to keep the public calm and unaware. They changed the way they calculated and shared information about community transmission, changing the scary-looking red map from a comforting green one overnight. The number of cases didn’t go down. But the green map gave people a false sense of belief that things were improving. The CDC called the new map system the Community Levels map. Most people mistakenly thought low Community Levels meant low community transmission, but this confusing system relied on hospitalizations, a lagging indicator.

After, and before. The mostly-green map on the left is dated March 10, 2022 and the map on the right is dated March 9, 2022.

In addition to changing the map, the CDC also made major changes to the ways that Covid cases, hospitalizations, and deaths were tracked. The changes always served to ensure that totals were undercounted. The CDC was manipulating the data, sweeping bodies under the rug. But these changes were made gradually and largely without the public’s awareness. In January 2022, they moved to end daily Covid death reporting by hospitals; by February, they had officially done so. By March 2022, some US states started shutting down daily Covid death reporting altogether.

What the public did eventually hear via the news was that the numbers were trending down. ‘Hospitalizations are down,’ the news told everyone—neglecting to inform all of us of the changes the CDC made to its reporting that artificially deflated these totals in multiple ways.

Hiding the data was not enough to get everyone to accept continued, repeated infections. The government wanted all of us to believe that catching Covid repeatedly was unavoidable and the acceptable cost of keeping everything running. If people were able to avoid becoming repeatedly infected, this lie wouldn’t hold. So they changed the guidance for schools, saying that there was no longer a need for masks, testing, or quarantines. They changed the isolation guidelines so that infectious people were sent back to work after just five days (down from ten)—at the request of the CEO of Delta Airlines. They ended the mask mandates in healthcare and transportation. Allowing people longer absences from work would set a precedent for workers demanding regular sick leave; it was crucial to not let ten-day absences become the norm or the expectation.

Testing moved to the private market, and fewer and fewer people retained the ability to test themselves regularly. And the people who are testing are largely relying on at-home rapid tests—whose results are not being reported anywhere.

On top of all of this, the CDC director called masks the “scarlet letter” of the pandemic. Over and over, the messaging from leadership stated that masks were a burden, masks marked you as an outsider, masks were outdated. They created immense social pressure for people to stop masking. As long as people continued to wear masks in public spaces, the threat remained visible and on others’ minds. Pushing everyone to drop their masks was big business’s way of ensuring people believed the pandemic was over so that they would resume traveling, spending money, and stimulating the economy without reservations.

In August of this year, just three months after ending the global public health emergency, the World Health Organization went as far as to stop sharing Covid-19 Epidemiological Updates. When announcing this change, they stated that “reported cases do not accurately represent infection rates due to the reduction in testing and reporting globally.”

Now, wastewater data is the only accurate data we have left. This data shows the concentration of Covid in sewage wastewater samples from across the country (the virus is shed in our poop when we get sick). And this crucial data is also under threat. Biobot Analytics, the company that provided much of the US wastewater data, lost its contract with CDC NWSS this month. The new contract went to Verily, a company owned by Alphabet (Google’s parent company). The switch is leading to data gaps, as well as changes in sample processing and analysis that will make data from some sites no longer directly comparable with the sites covered by Biobot. Others have noted that, unlike Biobot, Verily offers “little in terms of comprehensible data in regional or national terms.”

Without accurate data on current cases, transmission rates, hospitalizations, and deaths, we have no way of knowing the full scope of the current crisis. Our house is on fire; alarms removed, the public sleeps.

Government mitigations

The government knows that the pandemic is not over. The US Department of Defense is investing in state-of-the-art wearables that can predict if wearers are getting sick. The devices use biometrics and predictive algorithms (trained on hospital-acquired data) to detect infectious diseases up to 48 hours before any symptoms appear. The wearables are part of the Rapid Assessment of Threat Exposure (RATE) project, which recently got $10 million worth of additional funds.  

Everyone who meets with President Joe Biden is PCR tested beforehand.

White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre recently confirmed that strict COVID-19 testing protocols remain in place, saying, "Anybody who meets with the president does indeed get tested." White House interns still have to agree to wear masks when asked.

When Biden gave a maskless speech last year at Richard Montgomery High School during a period of high Covid transmission, gym windows were removed to rig a temporary high-end ventilation setup. Parents at the school were outraged, and teachers took to Twitter to share photos of the air handling units. NALTIC Industrials called the setup “unprecedented.” Meanwhile, the US government continued to insist on the safety of America’s schools, telling parents to send their kids maskless to poorly-ventilated classrooms.

[whywoulditho]

a bunch of haikyuu headcanons i can't stop thinking about

i can't find the time to finish the manga so it lives in my head 24/7. *sigh* bear with my silly thoughts about these gay volleyball dorks

W: brief mentions of mental illnesses and eating disorders

Atsumu is dyslexic. (Bad at academics, gets the worst score in every test. Teachers usually understand so he doesn't fail his classes but he knows that volleyball's the only thing he's actually good at. So he tries his damn best all the time -to show that he's not so useless after all, he's good at one thing, at least. And yet, his brother is better than him at that thing too. I like the angst.)

Kiyoomi has OCD. (I'm actually just projecting myself but it's not my fault it fits him perfectly.) He was diagnosed when he was very little and has been going to therapy for as long as he can remember. I've seen a couple of articles about how in some Asian countries such illnesses have to be said in CV and resumes and people can face discrimination in employment because of them. Which made me wonder, could Kiyoomi have had a hard time getting into an official volleyball team? Could his long history with this incurable mental illness have gotten in the way of his career despite his talent? I think maybe his parents wanted him to get a college degree in case his volleyball career doesn't work out just because of this. And I think he was really scared too.)

Yamaguchi had an eating disorder in middle school and recovered throughout his high school years. (Tsukki might be stupid in many things but he's careful with this one. He reads about it online and tries to help. When Yamaguchi's parents are out for the night he invites him over to dinner to make sure he eats something. Yamaguchi says it's okay, he doesn't have to worry about it so much. Tsukki says shut up, he means I like spending time with you. He's getting there.)

Atsumu and Kiyoomi were married in the 2021 Olympics. Ushijima and Kageyama didn't know for like a week. (that's when they decided Kiyoomi would change the name on his Jersey lol)

After a whole year of travelling the world by himself, Nishinoya started feeling lonely —and scared, when he realised the world was bigger than he thought. If Asahi hadn't tagged along he would have given up and gone back home. But when he did, Nishinoya started enjoying travelling again. They stuck together since then,

Asahi proposed in Paris because they're silly and sappy and in love like that.

Suna and Komori are gossip besties. They talk shit about everyone in the V. Leauge. Osamu joins sometimes. Kiyoomi sells info.

Hinata is allergic to many things.

Atsumu claims he hates his brother but he takes all his teammates to eat dinner at Onigiri Miya three times a week.

Yamaguchi brings lunch to the museum for Tsukki. All the other staff there ADORE him. They're all surprised someone so nice like Yamaguchi is friends with Tsukishima Do Not Interrupt Me While I'm Lecturing About Tyrannosauruses Kei.

Kiyoomi is terrified of insects. (Atsumu wants to make fun of him for it but he's equally scared. Meian rolls his eyes and curses all his life choices as he mumbles "ok you can get off the table now, i threw the spider out" for the fifth time that week.)

Bokuto gives the best hugs. (He spins people around too, to Akaashi's horror. —"Please stop doing that in front of my coworkers, Bokuto-san, I have a reputation.")

Kuroo always interrupts Kenma's livestreams, unintentionally. It starts with a hand that slides a plate for him every five hours. Then there's a whisper yelling of "Eat your vegetables too, I made them with love, Kyanma, have some respect and eat your vegetables." which Kenma only responds with clearing his throat. There's distant chuckles coming from the background or Kenma yelling mid-game "Kuroo get off the net my connection's lagging!" Things like that. They don't say it to public but they don't try to hide that they live together either. (Kodzuken fans started a tag #thatguykodzuliveswith on twitter and they ship the two. Kuroo thinks it's hilarious.)

(This one's a bit sad) Iwaizumi and Oikawa were dating in high school. They were disgustingly in love, too. In their senior year, Oikawa applied for a bunch of teams but got rejected. Since he never made it to Nationals, his resume seemed dull and teams didn't want a rookie setter with no visible success. Among the teams that did accept him, the best one was Club Atletico San Juan, in Argentina. But as uncharacteristically as it may seem, Oikawa was hesitating. Over thinking about what would happen to their relationship, could they really make it work? Was it worth it? Iwaizumi saw right through him, of course he did, and he didn't want to hold him back from achieving his dreams. And like the dramatic idiot he is, he broke up with Oikawa. And did his best to break his heart, too. Oikawa boarded his plane and went to the other side of the world with nothing but anger in his heart for Iwaizumi. Iwa cried a lot, but he was sure that this was the best thing he could do for Oikawa, letting him go. (The next time they saw each other was in the Olympics. After the Japan vs. Argentina match Iwaizumi found him in the locker rooms. Oikawa punched him. They got back together. Or maybe they didn't. I don't know. I like breaking their hearts I like the angst.)

Kiyoomi pretends to hate kids but he gets along with them. (as long as they don't touch him so much they're pretty cool little humans) kids like him a lot. He's surprised too. (I'm projecting—)

Miyas' grandma loves Suna better than both of the twins.

Tendou dragged Ushijima to Disneyland and forced him to do all the stupid things there was with him. (He thought he was forcing him while Ushijima was actually enjoying the trip a lot.) (Also, the moment Tendou saw Ushi with Mickey ears and face paint was the moment he knew.)

Korai and Hirugami have been dating since their last year in high school, but they haven't told their families about it. Years later in Schweiden Adlers, Hirugami's older brother Fukuro is Korai's team captain. And Korai feels so guilty for secretly dating his brother that he can't even look at Fukuro in the eye. They hesitate whether they should tell him or not, and Korai is stressed tf out™ all the time thinking that soon captain's gonna find out and they'll kick him out of the team. And then, one day in a team dinner Fukuro turns to Korai and says, "This place's fish is great, you should take Sachiro on a date here someday, he'll love it." ...He's known the whole time.

Everyone is asexual because I am and I say so.

Atsumu and Kiyoomi are dog parents.

Kenma and Kuroo are cat parents.

Yamaguchi and Tsukki are bird parents.

Suga and Daichi are plant parents.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[imnotafrog]

omg i’m just realizing how crazy my childhood was

-adopted to wap (making it a transracial adoption which comes with a lot, but also don’t know how much still because like I don’t have a super strong urge to reconnect with chinese culture in the way some adoptees and not adopted people may expect but that might be a sign but I really don’t think so, I was called a banana by like the director of the orphanage I was in when I went back with my family but it seemed my dad was more upset than me, also like since I have so much going on like being queer, neurodivergent, non binary, and probs other stuff I would be more worried about the hypothetical if I wasn’t adopted)

-people thinking I didn’t have the ability to hear because I didn’t vocalize and going through hearing tests at like 18 months and doctors realizing i’m not hard of hearing at all and getting diagnosed with dyspraxia because I didn’t have repetitive movement so it wasn’t autism (lmaooo apparently this guy was a dyspraxia and asd specialist) so that meant having to go through speech therapy for 9 years and getting pulled out of class for it (I was apparently doing both public and private 💀) and that probably led to some of my internalized ableism

-diagnosed with adhd and being on stimulant for all weekdays of the school year starting at like 11 till I left for college and it made me feel physically ill and I felt no difference tbh except maybe it was easier to get stuff done but then my mom saying how my behavior was so much better and the dose just kept increasing cause I couldn’t really feel it and the slight easiness of getting stuff done would wear off quicker, my metabolism is fucked now I think cause of it

-growing up with a disabled parent who suffered traumatic brain injuries that may have changed behavior and personality a bit

-growing up not knowing I was autistic until like 2 years ago (my own fault too cause I was very uneducated on it) and that probably caused a lot of issues that now make sense in regards to conflicts with my mom and some school stuff

-my dad still saying how he doesn’t understand non binary as a concept while having non binary close acquaintances that he tries more on their pronouns vs. me who felt outed like 8 years ago

-a lot of loneliness and maybe some grooming by online ‘friends’ but also I don’t know, it was just weird and I was like 12 and they were early 20s and sharing hentai with me so what would you call that (they knew my age I never lied)

-probably more but that’s enough for now without too much detail

thanks for reading if you did lmao I just kind of broke down about this because yeah my childhood was not the norm (and I was thinking surface level too like not eating meals together, or my parents sharing separate bedrooms which was more uncommon imo when I was a kid now very relatable I think, and weird controlling behavior and punishments my mom gave and her think another controlling parent that was my friends mom was a ‘normal’ type of parenting style when me and some of my friends thought that parent was really too much) omg more venting it just came out lol

mwah :*

[arrowfrozen]

nathan. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • threads.

BASIC INFO

full name — Nathan Gray age — thirty-nine (april 22nd) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — homosexual occupation — prosecutor, district attorney deity connection — boreas  pony name — ghost weapon — longbow + studded leather armor clothing style — chic (suits), but he can go casual, though he's often found in pieces of his armor bc it's not too heavy and he might as well..

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Shawn Ashmore hair — blonde / eyes — blue height — five foot & eleven inches build — lean, he's all muscle and skin and bone scars — a long one down his left arm from the first attack on him when he was younger and one down his back - about halfway from the shoulder down. both are fading but because he's so pale.. they show quite a bit tattoos — camp jupiter brand/tattoo on his arm for 10y of service piercings — a few rings in the helix of his ears, tho he often has them covered by the hood special characteristics — very logical/analytic, observing and sometimes pessimistic, ambitious & workaholic to the point of no return sexual preference— bottom switch

PERSONALITY

alignment — lawful neutral positive traits — eloquent, affectionate, ambitious, gentle soul negative traits — pessimistic-ish, workaholic, feisty, uptight hobbies — training, giving online courses on law, taking on a few cases here and there (work is his hobby yes lmao)

MEDICAL INFO

mental — anxiety (buried) physical — struggles to put on weight, but healthy phobias — atychiphobie eyesight — 20/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — ambidextrous drug use — maybe alcohol use — yeeep diet — tends to go for calories bc he struggles to hold his weight, but he was raised not to be very picky, so he's chill

BACKGROUND

birthplace — new haven, CT parents — Liara Gray (biological mother) & David Gray (step-father) & Boreas (biological father) siblings — n/a pets — tba education — law school graduate notable skills — disciplined, ambitious, enduring. fast reader, analyzes situations quickly

BIO

The Grays have always been lawyers. Nathan’s parents met through their parents’ law firms and everybody before them did, too. His sire would always say that was their secret to success. The Grays worked only for themselves, taking up cases that were profitable for them, those who would provide the most publicity with high chances of success. Nathan grew up in his parents’ law firm, spending most of his time after daycare, after school, after highschool there - every free minute of his days were spent in an office chair, running around the lobby, annoying the receptionists until one of his parents would come and scold him, tell him to sit back down and learn, because one day he'd be sitting in one of those office chairs not to play, but to work.

Sometimes he did. But most times he decided that everything else was more fun than listening to adults ramble about laws and consequences and contracts. In highschool, they let him work for the firm - it was simple jobs like sorting files, proof-reading and the like, but every single Gray lawyer went through the same process when growing up, so Nathan would, too. While other teenagers his age were out playing football or making music, Nathan was sitting inside his father’s office - ear pods in his ears with soft music playing most of the day and doing paperwork for the firm. He realized very early on that he was different. In more ways than one. One would be his well-kept secret, the other was diagnosed when he was eight years old. ADHD. His issues - as his parents had been addressing Nathan's ticks.. finally explained, but at what cost?

It was never the same after, but his parents tried their very best to raise him like he wasn’t the black sheep in the family. In a family so so dependent on the public opinion of their business, a child - and he was the only child of Liara and David, with a mental illness, as harmless as it might seem ... was not a good thing. At least they let him keep the music going when he worked, knowing that otherwise he’d never get any work done. Despite all that, despite the difficulties he was put through - despite the disappointment he could see in his parents’ eyes whenever they looked at him, he graduated at the top of his class and went to New Haven’s University to study Law and only a year later as expected. 

Of course he did. 

Nathan knew nothing else - had been molded into a lawyer before he developed the ability to decide for himself what he wanted to do with his life and besides, he’d brought enough shame over his family, he couldn't disappoint them yet again. ADHD was punishment enough in itself - if you asked him. the constant thrum of voices whispering at him, day and night. Nobody who wasn’t affected by it would understand. But he had given up trying to explain. So he found his own system, his own way to deal with the disadvantage and make the best of it. He wouldn’t be where he was if he hadn’t been born feisty and stubborn - a trait inherited by most of the Grays.

But, during his time on Campus - his family loosened the grip they had on him, sure he’d follow suit like he had been taught to. Classes, study, sleep. Rinse and repeat. Nathan though, found himself drawn to the outside more and more, found himself exploring a world he’d never really seen before. He drank, he woke up hungover. He dated, he fell in love, he got his heart broken and regretted ever giving up the celibate life his parents wished on him. He was alive. He was not just one of the voices - he was flesh and blood.

Love hit him harder than he expected, especially because it came in the form of a very handsome fellow student who wasn’t just someone equally misplaced in their respective family, but felt the same instant draw towards him. Like a moth to light. Love at first sight. And boy, did it hit them hard. Both their families would never agree, so they kept their love a secret all the way through law school. Nathan finished a year late and yet before Patrick and managed to get into the DA's office. Officially he was going for experience, but deep down he knew he'd never work in his parents' firm - his sense of righteousness would never allow him to. He wasn't selfish, he wasn't ready to sell his soul for money and publicity. He wanted to help make the world a better place.

When Patrick finished a year later, he joined Nathan and they worked together for about a year until - at holiday festivities at work, their parents caught wind of their relationship. Co-workers had commented on how adorable they were with their matching scarves and beanies in the winter and had freely elaborated when approached for more information. When presented with options on how to proceed - from both their parents, they knew they had only one option. Flee. They packed their bags and fled to the other side of the continent. San Francisco was their target location, but two demigods traveling alone were too juicy a sight to be let go. They were attacked during their stay at some motel a few miles away, saved by a son of Mars (?) and found out about each other's abilities.

Taken back to Camp Jupiter for safety, they both decided to stay and help fight the fight. Or prepare for it anyway. Sure, they had their ups and downs, but they held their own in Camp. They talked for a long time as their ten years mark neared and decided to try for a normal life again. Back to the east coast, using the connections they still somewhat had (Nathan never quite stopped getting involved in cases.) and for about a year it all went well. But then they were attacked again. And again, in their own four walls (the office).

Maybe they shouldn't have been ignoring the call.....

During their stay at Camp Jupiter, they found out about Camp Halfblood and that theoretically that's where they were home. Properly. So, both once again packed their bags and set out for Long Island to find refuge in Camp Halfblood.

Feb 13th update.

[royalramennoodlesoup]

outing some of the truly awful things my mother has said or done (because this is tumblr and she'll never see it, and even if she does, she won't believe it's about her):

1.when i was 13, she discovered a text i'd forgotten to delete before a nightly phone-check, in which i told my best friend that i had "broken up with [my boyfriend] because i realized i'm gay," which then led to a further investigation into my internet doings where she found my secret s/h account, and ultimately ended with her storming into my room at 3 a.m., breaking my phone in half in front of me, making me sleep in her bed the rest of the night, and checking me into an inpatient facility at 8 a.m.

2. she then made my 10 year old brother lie to everyone at school and say i was home sick with the flu while i was in said inpatient facility

3. when i got out and was doing my mandatory two years of outpatient therapy, she found a new therapist every time they brought her in for our family sessions and she felt like she was being blamed; when it happened with the last therapist, she even went so far as to storm out in the middle of session

4. from the night she broke the phone (i call it d-day in my head, i know that's really not classy or anything okay i started doing it when i was 13 and didn't even really know history) but anyway from d-day until my 18th birthday i was effectively grounded: no phone, restricted internet access (ill come back to that actually), and definitely no going out with friends or to sleepovers.

5. when i was about 16, we'd moved a couple of times and ended up at this huge school that tbh i hated, but anyways i met a girl that i didn't hate, and then when my mom found out she'd had enough and pulled me out of public school altogether.

6. so then for the next 9 months she thought i was homeschooling, but since i quickly learned that a) i wasn't actually attending school through an accredited online academy but rather a website set up by some christian lady who taught her own kids, and b) my mother couldn't actually be bothered to check and see if i was actually doing anything, i factory reset the "restricted" computer she gave me for school and spent my nights online talking to the aforementioned girl, and my days sleeping and ignoring my mother's email's (that's how she communicated with me since she took my phone away)

7. told me i looked like this dog-

-any time i straighted my hair

8. this one was actually one of the few awful things she's ever said to my brother: she told him he "should be ashamed of himself" when he was almost 20 and told her that his girlfriend was pregnant, even though she got pregnant with me at 18 (projecting much??)

9. soooooo many snarky comments about any thing and everything - from disapproval of the few hobbies i tried to find joy in, all the way to comments about every aspect of my appearance

10. okay last one - the one and only time i tried to get her to sit down and meet a girlfriend, yknow, to see how happy and healthy i was, she ignored my girlfriend the entire time, only talked about her job or people my girlfriend couldn't possibly know, and actually stormed out at the end of the meal when i told her she hadn't made much of an effort to talk to my girlfriend and it upset me (she paid for lunch on her way out at least)

[omi-papus]

My mom is like ALMOST a Karen. The type thats not crazy enough to be seen online and even when shes being unreasonable shes always been polite, and the only thing shell do is be like “Are you sure theres no discount? And argue when theres nothing to argue about. Like seven thousand times until somebody stops her or she gives up. (Which she CAN do oddly enough, but never when it would make sense.) Woman deadass asked if she could get a discount on a fucking covid test.

And heres the thing. I know for a fact, that where shes from, what she does can work. Small city in a much more lenient latinamerican country than the one were in right now. And you can in fact haggle a lot more over there. But I dont think I can get you guys to understand that I cant quite call her a Karen,

BECAUSE IT ALMOST ALWAYS WORKS!

My mother has bypassed federal laws by just asking for it enough. Like gotten unregistered animals through the airport in plain sight for example.

And Im reflecting on this now because I was at the embassy the other day, and its my first time going in like five years, so my first time going in as an adult. And she made this apointment without telling me, (yhea she sometimes sucks like that) and I told her damn well I wasnt going to get my ass all the way over there when I had class only a few hours later. And I can only use public transport and because of that cant make it to class because the wait for buses can be up to two hours in the worst of days. And she was like “No, Ill drive you there, I need to get my own documents sorted too.” And Im like, “Mother if you think Im going to sit there throught the wait of two apointments Im not going because I could only get to school in time if you drive me there too” and this lady. Says to me,

“No I only booked your apointment, Im going to tell them to sort out my documents as they do yours”

And like thats not how that works. Thats not how any of this works. At all. Shes crazy. A complete and utter Karen.

And the day comes. We get up extra early and go to the embassy. When were there my trun comes and and Im about to talk to the guard and tell him whats up and what I need to do. Then my mom comes up next to me and is like “Oh by the way, I would like to go in with her and get my own papers taken care of” he asks how old I am and I tell him and he tell her “Sorry, we cant let you in shes an adult and shes the one with the apointment” and she does the “are you sure” this twice and then calmly takes a step back. I go in I have my papers, my trun comes again and I go up to the desk and start doing all the stuff (I had only dealt with paperwork a few times and this is the first time I handled something with my passport” and its like

“Ok so Im here fo-“

“Shes here to get her passport, *grabs papers* she has this this and this. Anyway while Im here I would like to get this sorted”

My fucking mother, is just standing next to me taking over the apointment and I am just standing there wondering how she got inside the god damn building. Shes cut the line, and is openly saying “I dont have an apointment, but do this”.

And at the end of all of this.

THEY FUCKING DID IT FOR HER.

I didnt say a word the entire rest of the apointment save for one or two questions, she just up and held the whole conversation, while Im just standing there trying to find the gun she must holding because thats the only explanation I can think of.

And like we just left????? The guard seemed alive and fine and I have not been the same ever since. Any annoyance I had for both being made to do this and then having her take that minor autonomy from me with my own legal proceedings is compleatly overshadowed by the fact that she just broke at least ninteen diferent policies and got away with it. And shes not a good negotiator, in the slightest. She just makes unreasonable demands and people just do it??? They dont even look mad just confused?????

So I cant tell if shes just perfected karenism or shes an actual witch.

[secretly-your-history-professor]

hello students <:

i wanted to try the 30 days of autism acceptance, so ill be combining all the first four days on this post, sorry for the long one! just as a reminder, autism speaks is a hate group, light it up blue and puzzle pieces are hate symbols, there is no "cure for autism", and (well-researched) self-dx is 100% valid <:

1 April: The typical introduction question! Tell us something about yourself. If you can't think of anything, try these: What do you enjoy to do in your free time? What music or series/show do you like? Are you happy with your current living situation/the people you live with? What's one of your favourite foods?

my name is elio, and in conjunction with autism i also have adhd and dyscalculia. im a gay trans guy in a committed relationship of 4 and a half years (so far). my favorite movie is gone with the wind, and my favourite food is toasted naan bread with goat cheese, pears, almonds, and honey on top <:

2 April: When were you diagnosed and when did you know that you're autistic? If you're self-diagnosed, when did you first suspect that you're autistic and when were you sure?

i don't have a formal paper diagnosis just because it was a very expensive and arduous road for me, and i was worried about workplace and medical discrimination since my dream job is in academia and im trans. i first suspected i was autistic around 14 or 15, and after talking to several autistic people, taking a lot of online screenings, and asking my sister (who has a degree in psychology), i was certain at the age of 17ish.

3 April: How good or bad is your memory for things people say? For example verbal instructions. If you're deaf: Can you lip read? Do you think your autism influences your ability to lip read?

its honestly atrocious. i have to repeat back the instructions multiple times, if i remember them at all. i definitely prefer to write things down or read them to retain information. are there any conversations going on around hyperlexia right now?

4 April: Were/are you in special education? Regular school? Home schooled? A private school? Did it change over time? Did/do you like it?

i went to poor public schools my whole life except for preschool, which was a free private program held in a nearby church basement (welcome to the south, i suppose). i was put in a lot of advanced programs for ela, but was very nearly held back because of math. by the end of high school i had taken 6 AP classes in english and history subjects and the AP Capstone program. i didn't mind school all that much, i was always a teachers favourite student because i was quiet and friendly and generous, etc. etc., but i never had friends after 4th grade until my senior year of high school.

[cakesexuality]

What is your favorite compliment you've ever received? How about the most memorable?

I like getting compliments on my voice because I know I have a nice voice so singing is, like, the one skill I have where I always know the compliments are genuine, rather than maybe someone just saying it to be nice, and singing is also a skill that I choose to do, so it doesn't feel weird like when I'm told I'm pretty, like... thanks, I grew this face myself!

I don't publicly sing much, just because I didn't put a ton of focus into arts in high school (rather, I was focused on topics like nutrition or abnormal psychology or childhood development) so I only took vocals once and didn't do extra-curricular music, and nowadays I don't have an outlet to sing in public so I mostly just sing at home or in the car. However, the times where I have sung at school, posted a recording online, etc. the feedback was really good! The only critiques I got here or there were small things like "You sound sticky, like a smoker" (my lung disease was flared that day so YEAH of course I sounded sticky)

The most memorable compliment I've gotten on my voice is one time on Twitch, there was a guy in my chat who had been there many times before and he's always really friendly and kind. I can specifically remember that I was playing Uncharted 4, in a flashback scene where a young Nate sneaks out of the orphanage to hang out with Sam. My viewer said that the guitar he ordered finally came in and he asked if I played any instruments, so I said I've learned a bit of piano, guitar, and ukulele here and there, but I'm really just a singer. His response was "I'm not surprised that you're a singer, you have a really nice voice :)" and I'm STILL all 💗💕💖 about it because I already loved getting compliments about my voice, but I'd never realised that I sound really good just talking without even trying to sound nice!

Now that the guy pointed it out, I do like hearing myself talk, as much as it makes me sound conceited lol. The other day, I was chatting with my friend while we helped each other trim some wigs, so being focused on brushing and snipping and making sure everything was even made my voice go soft and gentle, and hearing it echo back to me in the bathroom was *chef's kiss*

And I mean, it's probably also meaningful to me (deep somewhere inside my brain that doesn't really register on the surface) to get compliments on my voice since singing is kind of an important part of my journey with my illnesses, between it being something my body can do well without being appearance-based with my eating disorder, it being something I can do without my hands or limbs or even without sitting up so therefore my joint pain can't take it away from me, and it being a way to outlet the sadness and anger I might feel as a result of my health (see also: me laying on my apartment floor when EDS first started kicking my ass at 19 years old, singing along as Lazy Bones by Green Day played on repeat)... like, yeah, it BETTER sound nice! It's the thing that got me through some tough times! It helped me start the path to body neutrality! I've spent a lot of time on it while stuck at home for 4 years! THANK YOU!!

But yeah circling back to the point of this... I love being told that I sound good because I know the person truly means it when they say that

[saltysodacracker]

1:11am January 2nd, 2024

3 month sober reflections:

Wow has time moved so substantially fast for me. Although now I feel like a brand new person with completely new morals, goals, and achievable ideas.

Simply put I will stop at nothing this year to kick absolute ass with nothing holding me back. This is truly my year and I owe it to myself for growth. I am giving myself an opportunity to live mentally free of addiction, pain, mental illness, all the things that burden and chain my soul. Including people, places and ways of thinking. I am adopting a new character and sense of well-being.

This year I have real goals and ambition to be the best version of myself. I am extremely excited for this new journey that I am on. I can barely sleep that is how much enthusiasm and life I have within me. Oh to be young and as free as a bird.

I want to spend less of my time on toxic platforms with no purpose other than to waste my time scrolling for hours. I want to manage every single moment. Let myself be extremely present in my reality. I want to be grounded in my goals, reality, energy, and purpose.

I want to document my journey on here as a sort of public online journal or diary where I can watch myself grow and tach myself how to live the admirable life I desire. I want to be recognized in this lifetime for the beautiful things I create, the character I have, and the legacy that I build. I want to be a person of interest for the way I dress, talk, and act. Simply put I want to be unforgettable. I know that as an individual my life is unique and I have things I need to learn and accomplish in this lifetime.

The first step I want to achieve is the art of the hermit. This. Year I am going to be alone a fair bit. I want to really get to know myself and challenge myself to grow alone and see how much I can accomplish on my own. Instead of going out to that social event or texting that random person back. I want to start to get to know the real colours of myself and then see that in other people. I want to train myself as one would a pet. To act a certain way, see certain details that nobody or very few would catch. Though this time may get a bit boring, I feel that I will start seeing the world in a new landscape. I feel as though people will become more interesting to me in a way noticing how they talk, act, and dress. I really want to evaluate as a detective would have the people in my life to understand if they are suitable people to be watching and engaging with me. This is more of a social experiment if anything.

On top of this I think I may write a short story or a novel this year. I have heard from a variety of people that they love my stories and find them and my life in general very interesting and worth hearing about. So perhaps publicly I will share something here or there.

I really want to advance my skills in art this year and grow on my aesthetic. I have a lot of practise to do. Must do something everyday to be a master of a craft. I need to continue to research the deeper meanings of being an artist. I am solemnly starting to see what that is for me black and white, however I still am not quite there yet. Here is a sneak peak of what I have learned so far. You can’t be an artist if you are a nepo baby. You are an artist if you are self-made. The difference is a nepo baby was born into the opportunity where a self-made artist had to create the opportunity. Self made examples include Van Gogh. He was completely self made down right to his skills as an artist. He taught himself everything he knew. Nepo artists can be good sure in skill because their parents could afford to send them to the most expensive art schools and support them financially. Not me tho. I am 100% self-made. I had to work for every single penny I have. Not complaining though it has really given the skills, tools, ability to teach myself things at a younger age than most and at the same time have all my shit under control. This has made me hyper independent to which I know I am going to go extremely far in this life. As a person who is self made I can say I can appreciate a nepo baby, but at the same time I think about all the sweat, tears, late nights, headaches, depression, institutionalizations, that the self made people had to undergo to get to where they are. I think that is what makes them more dangerous is they don’t care what it takes to get to the top, but that is the addenda to get to the top and still work as hard as we did when we were at the bottom. Nepo babies stared at the top, but now they are faced with a new challenge to be individualized from the other people at the top and really have to work hard to show off what is unique and different about them. Once they find their niche they are done. They kick back relax and don’t dare to lift a finger or work harder. They did their part and that is what satisfies them.

These are some reflections, thoughts, ideas, moving forward into 2024,

Salty

[blue-eyed-bloodstains]

01. where would you love to go to college? what kind of college is it? I’ve ultimately wanted to go to Full Sail University since my senior year (2010) and I even did the research and had a rep from there who came to NJ to present at our high school about it come to my house for an interview about it...even had roommates set up, a scholarship of $20k, the works. but it all fell apart and I couldn’t go, both by not having the means at the time due to moving around from family drama and there was no way to get there or afford to live off campus since they didn’t have dorms on campus. it’s a media school in the top 5 in the US and I wanted to pursue being a music producer if I went...

I also before that guy came senior year, always wanted to go to NYU for journalism/songwriting. I went to my local community college for Journalism and Public Speaking In Media for a bachelors, using my scholarship but I only completed one semester and had to move...so I never completed college and I lost the majority of that scholarship cause it expired...big regrets, I’d give anything to get a degree preferably online... 02. is there anywhere you’d love to go, but you wouldn’t go due to things there (people, natural disasters, etc.)? isn’t that basically the entire fuckin world at this point..? anywhere you go, there’s shit going down so it would be scary to go to any of the places I’ve always wanted to travel to and experience 03. do you know anyone who has/had swine? who? ...okay, meaning like owned pigs or had the swine flu? lol no not personally but there’s a lot of farmland here with many different animals so I’m sure someone has a bunch of hogs and piggies fenced in :P 04. do you like polaroid photography? yeah, would love to learn how to take amazing photos like that

05. did you ever watch that old nick show, ginger? As Told By Ginger! hell yeah, loved it! 06. is there a friend of yours who curses nonstop? who would that be? pssh myself more than anyone, literally barely can make a simple sentence about the most random small talk without cursing to some degree XD 07. don’t you hate when you put lyrics as a status and everyone comments it asking what it means / why it’s your status? I hate that they can’t relate to them or understand that it’s me crying out pretty much...I post lyrics or sayings/phrases all the time relating to my mental illnesses, emotions, physical illnesses...and I’m still alone with it all. 08. what internet browser do you use? Chrome or Firefox 09. what do you usually do to let your feelings out? listen to music, cry, DRINK TILL I BLACK OUT AND AM NUMB...

10. what was the last thing you uploaded / plugged into the computer? oh god no idea, I fucked up my small USB flash drive so it can’t recognize it when I plug it in...and my cd tray, the cover where you press the button to have it pop out snapped off so now I don’t know how to get it to pop out so I can play movies..and yes, both were from me black out drunk and the laptop sliding off me to the floor. 11. what is your last class of the day? I’m not in school 12. who do you think has your back more: your girl friends or your guy friends? guy friends for sure, I’ve always tended to be closer with guys than girls. being a hardcore tomboy all my life helps lol 13. do you think boys notice things more than girls? or vice versa? it’s hard to say cause everyone’s different, so I hate putting them into a statistic or stereotype. I’d say it’s pretty even for both 14. are you participating in project 365 (you take a picture of you/something everyday of the year and post it)? I’d love to try but not enough things I can post...I’m constantly home with nowhere to go and it’s very hard to be out and about for more than a short time given physical illness weakening me for years so no 15. do you have a flickr? if so, post the link. oh DEAR FUCKING GOD I completely forgot about Flickr! lol no I don’t and never did 16. am i the only one who would go to the ends of the earth to see their favorite band perform? I don’t know you so I mean, I can’t say for sure..but I’ve got several bands and comedians in mind that I would personally 17. do you think it’s dumb when a band smashes their instruments, or do you find it totally radical? meh I don’t really care

18. have you ever made a gif? if not, do you think it’d be interesting to make one? yeah I’ve always been interested in how to do it and I’d go insane making so many once I knew how to lol 19. are you excited for the beginning of american idol? no I haven’t watched for years..last one I saw win was around Jordin Sparks/Adam Lambert/David Cook seasons...I love watching the terrible auditions on youtube though lol 20. do you feel like you need some inspiration, or are you totally inspired right now? I definitely need inspiration... 21. when you feel uninspired, do you feel like you need to go somewhere to become inspired? definitely but rarely get the chance to 22. do you like driving games, or not so much? yeah 23. do you have trouble coming up with good surveys questions? I’ve never made em, I love taking good ones I find

[puttingherinhistory]

“Covid has unleashed the most severe setback to women’s liberation in my lifetime. While watching this happen, I have started to think we are witnessing an outbreak of disaster patriarchy.

Naomi Klein was the first to identify “disaster capitalism”, when capitalists use a disaster to impose measures they couldn’t possibly get away with in normal times, generating more profit for themselves. Disaster patriarchy is a parallel and complementary process, where men exploit a crisis to reassert control and dominance, and rapidly erase hard-earned women’s rights. (The term “racialized disaster patriarchy” was used by Rachel E Luft in writing about an intersectional model for understanding disaster 10 years after Hurricane Katrina.) All over the world, patriarchy has taken full advantage of the virus to reclaim power – on the one hand, escalating the danger and violence to women, and on the other, stepping in as their supposed controller and protector.

I have spent months interviewing activists and grassroots leaders around the world, from Kenya to France to India, to find out how this process is affecting them, and how they are fighting back. In very different contexts, five key factors come up again and again. In disaster patriarchy, women lose their safety, their economic power, their autonomy, their education, and they are pushed on to the frontlines, unprotected, to be sacrificed. 

Part of me hesitates to use the word “patriarchy”, because some people feel confused by it, and others feel it’s archaic. I have tried to imagine a newer, more contemporary phrase for it, but I have watched how we keep changing language, updating and modernising our descriptions in an attempt to meet the horror of the moment. I think, for example, of all the names we have given to the act of women being beaten by their partner. First, it was battery, then domestic violence, then intimate partner violence, and most recently intimate terrorism. We are forever doing the painstaking work of refining and illuminating, rather than insisting the patriarchs work harder to deepen their understanding of a system that is eviscerating the planet. So, I’m sticking with the word. 

In this devastating time of Covid we have seen an explosion of violence towards women, whether they are cisgender or gender-diverse. Intimate terrorism in lockdown has turned the home into a kind of torture chamber for millions of women. We have seen the spread of revenge porn as lockdown has pushed the world online; such digital sexual abuse is now central to domestic violence as intimate partners threaten to share sexually explicit images without victims’ consent. 

The conditions of lockdown – confinement, economic insecurity, fear of illness, excess of alcohol – were a perfect storm for abuse. It is hard to determine what is more disturbing: the fact that in 2021 thousands of men still feel willing and entitled to control, torture and beat their wives, girlfriends and children, or that no government appears to have thought about this in their planning for lockdown. 

In Peru, hundreds of women and girls have gone missing since lockdown was imposed, and are feared dead. According to official figures reported by Al Jazeera, 606 girls and 309 women went missing between 16 March and 30 June last year. Worldwide, the closure of schools has increased the likelihood of various forms of violence. The US Rape Abuse and Incest National Network says its helpline for survivors of sexual assault has never been in such demand in its 26-year history, as children are locked in with abusers with no ability to alert their teachers or friends. In Italy, calls to the national anti-violence toll-free number increased by 73% between 1 March and 16 April 2020, according to the activist Luisa Rizzitelli. In Mexico, emergency call handlers received the highest number of calls in the country’s history, and the number of women who sought domestic violence shelters quadrupled. 

To add outrage to outrage, many governments reduced funding for these shelters at the exact moment they were most needed. This seems to be true throughout Europe. In the UK, providers told Human Rights Watch that the Covid-19 crisis has exacerbated a lack of access to services for migrant and Black, Asian and minority ethnic women. The organisations working with these communities say that persistent inequality leads to additional difficulties in accessing services such as education, healthcare and disaster relief remotely. 

In the US, more than 5 million women’s jobs were lost between the start of the pandemic and November 2020. Because much of women’s work requires physical contact with the public – restaurants, stores, childcare, healthcare settings – theirs were some of the first to go. Those who were able to keep their jobs were often frontline workers whose positions have put them in great danger; some 77% of hospital workers and 74% percent of school staff are women. Even then, the lack of childcare options left many women unable to return to their jobs. Having children does not have this effect for men. The rate of unemployment for Black and Latina women was higher before the virus, and now it is even worse. 

The situation is more severe for women in other parts of the world. Shabnam Hashmi, a leading women’s activist from India, tells me that by April 2020 a staggering 39.5% of women there had lost their jobs. “Work from home is very taxing on women as their personal space has disappeared, and workload increased threefold,” Hashmi says. In Italy, existing inequalities have been amplified by the health emergency. Rizzitelli points out that women already face lower employment, poorer salaries and more precarious contracts, and are rarely employed in “safe” corporate roles; they have been the first to suffer the effects of the crisis. “Pre-existing economic, social, racial and gender inequalities have been accentuated, and all of this risks having longer-term consequences than the virus itself,” Rizzitelli says. 

When women are put under greater financial pressure, their rights rapidly erode. With the economic crisis created by Covid, sex- and labour-trafficking are again on the rise. Young women who struggle to pay their rent are being preyed on by landlords, in a process known as “sextortion”. 

I don’t think we can overstate the level of exhaustion, anxiety and fear that women are suffering from taking care of families, with no break or time for themselves. It’s a subtle form of madness. As women take care of the sick, the needy and the dying, who takes care of them? Colani Hlatjwako, an activist leader from the Kingdom of Eswatini, sums it up: “Social norms that put a heavy caregiving burden on women and girls remain likely to make their physical and mental health suffer.” These structures also impede access to education, damage livelihoods, and strip away sources of support.

Unesco estimates that upward of 11 million girls may not return to school once the Covid pandemic subsides. The Malala Fund estimates an even bigger number: 20 million. Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka, from UN Women, says her organisation has been fighting for girls’ education since the Beijing UN women’s summit in 1995. “Girls make up the majority of the schoolchildren who are not going back,” she says. “We had been making progress – not perfect, but we were keeping them at school for longer. And now, to have these girls just dropping out in one year, is quite devastating.” 

Of all these setbacks, this will be the most significant. When girls are educated, they know their rights, and what to demand. They have the possibility of getting jobs and taking care of their families. When they can’t access education, they become a financial strain to their families and are often forced into early marriages. 

This has particular implications for female genital mutilation (FGM). Often, fathers will accept not subjecting their daughters to this process because their daughters can become breadwinners through being educated. If there is no education, then the traditional practices resume, so that daughters can be sold for dowries. As Agnes Pareyio, chairwoman of the Kenyan Anti-Female Genital Mutilation Board, tells me: “Covid closed our schools and brought our girls back home. No one knew what was going on in the houses. We know that if you educate a girl, FGM will not happen. And now, sadly the reverse is true.” 

In the early months of the pandemic, I had a front-row seat to the situation of nurses in the US, most of whom are women. I worked with National Nurses United, the biggest and most radical nurses’ union, and interviewed many nurses working on the frontline. I watched as for months they worked gruelling 12-hour shifts filled with agonising choices and trauma, acting as midwives to death. On their short lunch breaks, they had to protest over their own lack of personal protective equipment, which put them in even greater danger. In the same way that no one thought what it would mean to lock women and children in houses with abusers, no one thought what it would be like to send nurses into an extremely contagious pandemic without proper PPE. In some US hospitals, nurses were wearing garbage bags instead of gowns, and reusing single-use masks many times. They were being forced to stay on the job even if they had fevers.

The treatment of nurses who were risking their lives to save ours was a shocking kind of violence and disrespect. But there are many other areas of work where women have been left unprotected, from the warehouse workers who are packing and shipping our goods, to women who work in poultry and meat plants who are crammed together in dangerous proximity and forced to stay on the job even when they are sick. One of the more stunning developments has been with “tipped” restaurant workers in the US, already allowed to be paid the shockingly low wage of $2.13 (£1.50) an hour, which has remained the same for the past 22 years. Not only has work declined, tips have also declined greatly for those women, and now a new degradation called “maskular harassment” has emerged, where male customers insist waitresses take off their masks so they can determine if and how much to tip them based on their looks. 

Women farm workers in the US have seen their protections diminished while no one was looking. Mily Treviño-Sauceda, executive director of Alianza Nacional de Campesinas, tells me how pressures have increased on campesinas, or female farm workers: “There have been more incidents of pesticides poisonings, sexual abuse and heat stress issues, and there is less monitoring from governmental agencies or law enforcement due to Covid-19.” 

Covid has revealed the fact that we live with two incompatible ideas when it comes to women. The first is that women are essential to every aspect of life and our survival as a species. The second is that women can easily be violated, sacrificed and erased. This is the duality that patriarchy has slashed into the fabric of existence, and that Covid has laid bare. If we are to continue as a species, this contradiction needs to be healed and made whole. 

To be clear, the problem is not the lockdowns, but what the lockdowns, and the pandemic that required them, have made clear. Covid has revealed that patriarchy is alive and well; that it will reassert itself in times of crisis because it has never been truly deconstructed, and like an untreated virus it will return with a vengeance when the conditions are ripe. 

The truth is that unless the culture changes, unless patriarchy is dismantled, we will forever be spinning our wheels. Coming out of Covid, we need to be bold, daring, outrageous and to imagine a more radical way of existing on the Earth. We need to continue to build and spread activist movements. We need progressive grassroots women and women of colour in positions of power. We need a global initiative on the scale of a Marshall Plan or larger, to deconstruct and exorcise patriarchy – which is the root of so many other forms of oppression, from imperialism to racism, from transphobia to the denigration of the Earth. 

There would first be a public acknowledgment, and education, about the nature of patriarchy and an understanding that it is driving us to our end. There would be ongoing education, public forums and processes studying how patriarchy leads to various forms of oppression. Art would help expunge trauma, grief, aggression, sorrow and anger in the culture and help heal and make people whole. We would understand that a culture that has diabolical amnesia and refuses to address its past can only repeat its misfortunes and abuses. Community and religious centres would help members deal with trauma. We would study the high arts of listening and empathy. Reparations and apologies would be done in public forums and in private meetings. Learning the art of apology would be as important as prayer.

The feminist author Gerda Lerner wrote in 1986: “The system of patriarchy in a historic construct has a beginning and it will have an end. Its time seems to have nearly run its course. It no longer serves the needs of men and women, and its intractable linkage to militarism, hierarchy and racism has threatened the very existence of life on Earth.”

As powerful as patriarchy is, it’s just a story. As the post-pandemic era unfolds, can we imagine another system, one that is not based on hierarchy, violence, domination, colonialisation and occupation? Do we see the connection between the devaluing, harming and oppression of all women and the destruction of the Earth itself? What if we lived as if we were kin? What if we treated each person as sacred and essential to the unfolding story of humanity? 

What if rather than exploiting, dominating and hurting women and girls during a crisis, we designed a world that valued them, educated them, paid them, listened to them, cared for them and centred them?“

[trixree]

I don't often post any of my personal writing here, but I feel compelled to share this tonight.

“Weird coincidence but I’m 90% sure we went to preschool together.”

I got this private Zoom message from a girl in one of my classes today. After establishing that yes, we did in fact go to preschool together, I said how crazy it was that she remembered me.

I wrote back, “My early life is entirely a mystery to me. I forgot all of it except for what glue tastes like.”

She wrote, “For some reason, I remember you being sick a lot. So in the first class when you said you were chronically ill… I was like… wait…”

My heart sank. It’s lovely to be remembered—it’s such a unique wonder to be recognized. Usually, I’m recognized for being particularly talkative in a freshman-year seminar class or for having brightly colored hair. I like those moments, even when they are a bit embarrassing. But this moment was different.

I explained what I meant when I said I was chronically ill, that first class period. I didn’t get my primary diagnosis until I was fifteen years old and this meant that I spent a lot of my early childhood very sick.

She replied, “That makes sense… I remember you were gone a lot, but baby-me thought you just went on vacations. My young brain didn’t put together that sickness equals no school.”

I wasn’t remembered for who I was but what I was: sick.

I am in front of my laptop for nearly eight-hours a day everyday. I have been for the past three years because I can’t attend classes in person due to COVID. This distance in and of itself is impossibly isolating and is made even more cruel because it is my only option—if I value my safety, that is. (Unfortunately for me, I do.) I didn’t think that the distance between me and my peers could get wider than that.

I wonder if I am ever going to stop being defined by my disability. I miss being able to wear the facade of “normal.” I miss going out to restaurants to eat, I miss seeing my friends in person, I miss studying in a Starbucks, or simply wandering around a store because I can. I miss all these things like a limb and I fear, so keenly that it paralyzes me, that I will never get them back.

I don’t want to be remembered as the empty seat in the classroom.

I know that it is not my responsibility to change the world—I know that I can only change the minds that I can. But whether it is my responsibility or not, I have always needed to change the world just to be a part of it. That preschool that we both attended, this girl and I? My mom fought so hard for my simple right to be there at all, to participate in public education. I still remember—will always remember—being told by the principal that if I’m “really that sick, I should live in a bubble.”

The simple fact of the matter is that my very existence is a battle. I will always have to fight if I want a seat at the table. And it will still be a seat defined by my disability.

A friend of mine overheard a student on campus say that he had COVID but continued going to classes as normal and didn’t tell anyone because he feared that school would close. Online, a student at my university wrote of COVID accommodations, “We have gone far beyond what is reasonable and now it’s on the vulnerable to take some self responsibility and take care of themselves and stop expecting society to meet their needs.” They continued, “That is what makes you a selfish and self-centered person [...] completely cold and callus towards the suffering of others.”

I want to know what it is to walk through their world. I want to know so badly. I want to experience their normal. My partner told me as I sobbed today that the things I've experienced are terrible, but they made me who I am. "You’re kind and you advocate for others. You care about other people, about helping them.” It’s a small reassurance amidst a sea of suffering that I cannot hope to articulate: at least I am kind.

I will continue to fight, tooth and nail, for my right to take up space. I will fight because I must. But truthfully, I am so very tired of fighting. I want to stop dreaming of a world where I’m remembered beyond my disability; I want to live in that world.

[poptod]

Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

+

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,” he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

[kaorusakurayashikiswife]

new beginnings

pairing: Kaoru Sakurayashiki x f!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: angst (not really idk); fluff; exes to lovers; not proofread

notes: first post!! I saw that there weren’t really a lot of writings for Kaoru and decided to take it upon myself to write some!! I hope you enjoy, and please do tell me if there’s a mistake anywhere or if I there’s a warning I should add

“Are you ever going to skate again?”

Kojiro grins at you, handing you your food. You were on your break from work and decided to visit your old friend from high school.

“Kojiro you know why I can’t”

“It’s been a year I’m sure everyone wants to see you skating again!” You can’t blame him for his enthusiasm, it had almost been a year after you decided to quit skating due to breaking up with Kaoru. Before you quit you were known in ‘S’ as one of the top contenders, good enough to go against Adam, you had never gone on a beef against him since you had no interest to compete against someone like him.

“C’mon (Y/N)! You know everyone wants to see the infamous RIN again! After your sudden disappearance last year your fans have been missing you, there's even a new guy you can compete against!” You leaned in to cover his mouth, you didn’t want anyone knowing the name you were under while skating in S.

“Fine! I’ll visit but I’m not competing, I just want to see the poor soul that caught Adam’s eye.”

Kojiro smiled, knowing you, you’d probably compete either way, he knew that you’d been missing skating in S after he found you practicing. Your break up with Kaoru had changed their dynamic as you wanted nothing to do with him while he regretted letting you go.

The break up was because Kaoru kept insisting to go against Adam, you knew it was a bad idea, you had tried convincing him many times that the Adam he once knew was gone. Kaoru didn't like it as Adam was very dear to him, he had snapped at you and told you that you didn’t know him and that he’d rather break up with you than listening to your nonsense. You pitied the man, you’d heard what Adam had done to him a few days prior and wanted nothing more than to slap the man for hurting Kaoru.

“You won’t regret it! I’ll see you then RIN”

You hit him again, wanting to keep your professional life and personal life separate, “Say that name again out loud and I’m not going”.

Kojiro watched as you left the restaurant, sakura keychain still in dangling out of your bag like it had been so many years ago.

“You guys really are similar in that aspect”

Once you get home you sigh, your job has been taking a toll on you and you really needed a break. You look into your closet and see your skateboard, the only reason why you quit skating is because it reminded you of him, he was the one to teach you how to skate after all. The same man who decided to leave you to chase after the memory of the friend he once knew.

Making up your mind you change into your outfit and head down the same familiar path leading to the mine.

“Yo (Y/N)! Long time no see”

“You asshole! you call me by my name here and call me by my S name in public! Do you have a death wish?” You get closer to Kojiro to give him a piece of your mind, until you see four guys next to him: two boys who look like they’re in high school, an intimidating guy with clown-looking make-up, and a little boy who you think you’ve seen on TV.

“IS THAT RIN?!?” the redhead boy yelled, it caused everyone to turn to you, you were now the center of attention, mutters about the sudden appearance of one of the most known skaters in S.

“Who’s she?”

Compared to the redhead, the blue haired guy seemed like he was new, you assumed he was the rookie that Kojiro had mentioned earlier in the day.

“She’s a really well-known skater in S! she’s beaten a lot of people here, it’s said that she’s on par with Adam, but they’ve never gone against each other!”

“damn right and never will, I like not having broken bones thank you” you muttered, as everyone calmed down, they introduced themselves and seemed intrigued to see an old face.

“I came to see the new rookie everyone’s been talking about, I’m only here to watch though” everyone’s faces dropped, they seemed disappointed to not be able to see you skate.

“Then why’d you bring your skateboard hm?” Kojiro smirks at you, knowing that you’d come here to skate a little, even if it was just for fun.

“Fine, how about this? SNOW” you pointed at Langa and motioned him to follow you, “you’re coming with me, I wanna see why everyone is talking about you” you take Langa along and decide to skate against him in the course.

“Sorry I’m late, I forgot to charge Carla earlier today so she finished charging a little later than usual” Kaoru stood next to Kojiro to see why everyone seemed more excited. “Right on time Cherry! Look who’s skating today”.

Kaoru looked at the screen, it was you, he hadn’t seen you in a year and you never bothered to answer the messages he had sent you, not that he blamed you for that. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more, the way your hair flowed freely made you look ethereal, and your face seemed to glow while you were skating, an expression he had missed seeing from you.

He wanted to apologize, after the incident with Adam that landed him in the hospital he realized that his friend was gone, no semblance of him left. While in his hospital bed he remembered the words you had told him before he broke up with you. He knew he had no right to apologize now, but seeing you at S made him realize he missed you and wanted you back, if you’d have him of course.

Langa was surprised, your style of skating was different from anything he’d seen before, it looked complicated but you didn’t seem to be struggling at all. Due to him being distracted he hadn’t realized that you’d already crossed the finish line before him.

“That was good! You knew how to snowboard before learning how to skate right?” You asked excitedly, it had been a while since you’ve had this much freedom while skating. “Yes, how’d you know?”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to snowboard! Your stance seemed similar to those in videos I’ve seen online!”

As you walk back to the rest of the group you see him. Kaoru’s hair got a bit longer but apart from that nothing seemed too different, he still had that unapproachable aura around him. He seemed to be staring at you but you refused to look at him in the eye, you still missed him after all.

“Long time no see (Y/N)” He tried reaching out to you but you didn’t move at all, “Don’t call me that here.”

“Right, sorry Rin”

It seemed that everyone around you was aware of the tense atmosphere, although nobody really knew of what relationship you and Cherry held.

As everyone headed home, you decided to stay back and skate a little, you didn’t know when the next time you were going to be able to skate again after all. That’s when you notice it, just a little behind you were Joe and Cherry trying to catch up to you. “Rin! I thought you weren’t skating anymore?” You didn’t need to turn to see that there was a smile on his face.

“Don’t you have any fangirls to be with?” You retort, speeding a bit to gain distance from them.

“They all went home, why? You jealous?”

“As if.”

“Cherry over here wants to talk to you.”

In all honesty, you’d forgot he was even there at all, if it weren’t for Carla telling him the angles once in a while, you wouldn’t even have noticed him. You were pondering whether you should listen to what he had to say, “He’s been all gloomy ever since he saw you”. You heard someone fall, assuming it was Kojiro you kept going, he deserved it anyway.

You and Kaoru skated in silence for a bit, the only sounds heard were the wheels of both of your skateboards. As you were the first to pass the finish line you stop, getting off of your skateboard and getting ready to go back home.

“So what’d you want to talk about?”

Kojiro looks surprised, he thought you hadn’t noticed him staring at you. Frankly, he wanted to apologize and ask for a second chance, he knew he was undeserving of it though, you only wanted the best for him, but he pushed you away.

“I wanted to apologize for before, I know you meant well, but I only pushed you away when you tried helping me. I should’ve listened to what you said.”

Although it was a bit short and awkward, you knew he meant it. To be honest, you don’t blame him, he only wanted to know what had happened to his friend after he disappeared and came back with a whole different personality. You would’ve done the same if a friend whom you considered family did the same. You knew that even though he had finally come to terms with the fact that the Adam he knew in high school was gone, he was still hurting. You understood all of this, yet it was still hard to forget how angry he’d gotten at you, how he went on and on about how you didn’t know Adam at all (even though you’d been there when all four of you skated together in high school), and how he couldn’t be with someone who talked ill about his best friend. You remember how he broke up with you through a phone call after being late for a date, how you had to show up in your friend’s front door with all of your stuff, in fear of going to Kojiro’s restaurant because he was probably there.

“You didn’t need to wait a year to apologize to me” He flinched, knowing full-well what you were speaking of. He knew he had messed up the moment he ended the call, but his pride didn’t let him go back to your shared apartment to apologize to you, and he assumed that you were probably packing your bags as he headed to Kojiro’s place to drink.

“I didn’t know what to do after I went back to the apartment with your stuff gone”

“Well, I can’t just stay in my ex-boyfriend’s apartment after he just broke up with me can I?”

There was a silent pause, you were basically ready to head back home, but decided to wait to see if he had more to say. “Alright, if you’re done I’ll be heading home now.”

He quickly grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving, “it’s late, let me take you home”.

You declined, Kojiro had already promised you to take you back home. At the mention of his name he looked confused.

“Kojiro left a long time ago though?”

You were surprised, looking around for the tall muscle-headed idiot, but Kaoru was right, he left you behind. You were really going to kill him this time, it was probably part of his plan so you could talk things out with Kaoru.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d be grateful if you did then” you offered him a small smile, you had to be nice to the person driving you back to your apartment.

The ride home was silent, all he could hear were Carla’s directions to your apartment. As you got home and thanked him for the ride he stopped you again.

“Can I have another chance?” You stayed silent, he took your silence as a rejection and started his engine to leave, but this time, you were the one to stop him.

“You still owe me a meal at Kojiro’s” He blinked, confused as to what you were saying. Then he remembered, he had made you a promise that every time you beat him in S he’d buy you your favorite dish at Kojiro’s restaurant.

He smiled, frown no longer on his face after the promise of a new beginning, “Of course, tell me when you’re free to get it”.