#USC Staff

[nike2times]

+++spent sum quality time w/ my mama yesterday💛👑⛹🏾‍♀️🔥

[gatorsportsfan]

Matt Entz Leaves North Dakota State to Join Lincoln Riley’s Staff at USC

Matt Entz is leaving North Dakota State after five years as the Bison’s head coach and 10 seasons in Fargo.  Entz is joining Lincoln Riley’s staff at USC, he told ESPN’s Pete Thamel. Football Scoop’s Zach Barnett later reported that Entz will be the Trojans’ assistant head coach for defense and linebackers coach. He has never previously coached at the FBS level. During his five years leading the…

[mariacallous]

As president of the United States, Donald Trump threatened the federally issued licenses of television broadcast outlets that displeased him. In 2017, after NBC News reported a dispute between the president and his military advisors about the size of the nuclear arsenal, the president launched a series of tweets:

These 2017 tweets did not specifically suggest that he would have the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), which issues the airwave licenses, revoke them on his order. Instead, they appear to echo the 1972 tactics of Richard Nixon, who, displeased by coverage from the Washington Post, encouraged a third party to file a challenge at the FCC (which ultimately went nowhere).  

In response to the 2017 tweets, the Trump-appointed chairman of the FCC, Ajit Pai, took a firm stand. “I believe in the First Amendment,” he said. “Under the law, the FCC does not have the authority to revoke a license of a broadcast station based on a particular newscast.”   

Now, in 2024, as a presidential candidate, Donald Trump has reasserted that broadcasters who displease him should lose their federal airwave licenses. A September 2023 post on Truth Social accused NBC of “Country Threatening Treason.” He added, “Why should NBC, or any of the other corrupt & dishonest media companies, be entitled to use the very valuable Airwaves of the USA, FREE?”

The current Chair of the FCC, Jessica Rosenworcel, responded, “the First Amendment is a cornerstone of our democracy. The FCC does not and will not revoke licenses for broadcast stations simply because a political candidate disagrees with or dislikes content or coverage.”  

However, the ability of future FCCs to stand up to such instructions could be at risk. Candidate Trump has promised, “I will bring the independent regulatory agencies, such as the FCC and the FTC, back under Presidential authority, as the Constitution demands.” While the Constitution never mentions regulatory agencies, bringing the FCC under direct presidential control would surely undercut its independent decision-making.   

But a president of the United States already has powers beyond coercing the FCC. These powers could be exercised not only against broadcasters, but also against those who operate the internet. 

The “Doomsday Book” 

During his presidency, Donald Trump asserted, “When somebody’s president of the United States, the authority is total.” Whether or not presidential authority is “total,” there does already exist a compendium of presidential powers that have been enacted by Congress for use in extreme circumstances.  

Reportedly locked in a White House safe are the secret “Presidential Emergency Action Documents” (PEADs). Colloquially known as the “Doomsday Book,” they are a collection of powers authorized by Congress for the president to use in emergencies. Included in this compendium is Section 706 (codified as 47 USC 606), titled, “War Emergency – Powers of the President,” that is tucked away at the end of the Communications Act of 1934, the statute that created the FCC.  

TIME Magazine reports, “When Donald Trump was in the Oval Office, members of the national security staff actively worked to keep him from learning the full extent of these interpretations of presidential authority, concerned he would abuse them.”   

Here is what Section 706 authorizes: 

(c) Upon proclamation by the President that there exists war or a threat of war, or a state of public peril or disaster or other national emergency… the President, if he deems it necessary in the interest of national security or defense, may suspend or amend, for such time as he may see fit, the rules and regulations applicable to any or all stations or devices capable of emitting electromagnetic radiations within the jurisdiction of the United States as prescribed by the Commission, and may cause the closing of any station for radio communication…

The next subsection, using similar “national security” criteria, gives the president authority over the wired networks, such as those that carry telephone and internet service. Section 706(d), in pertinent part, authorizes the president to “suspend or amend the rules and regulations applicable to any or all facilities or stations for wire communication… cause the closing of any facility or station for wire communication… [or] authorize the use or control of any such facility or station… by any department of the Government under such regulations as he may prescribe…”  

The terms “war or a threat of war, or a state of public peril or disaster or other national emergency” are not defined by the Communications Act. Such declarations of national emergency were, however, a go-to solution when Donald Trump was in office. The effort to restrict travel from majority-Muslim countries was justified on national security grounds. Tariffs were levied on foreign steel and aluminum as a national security threat based on their impact on domestic production. When Congress would not give him the funding he wanted for the Mexican border wall, the president simply used a national emergency declaration to reallocate Defense Department funds to build the wall. Reportedly, he even considered declaring that the use of natural gas for electricity production was a national security risk because the gas pipelines could become terrorist targets. 

The power of the Chief 

Candidate Trump, in September 2023, posted that NBC and other “corrupt & dishonest media companies” are “a true threat to democracy and are, in fact, THE ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE!” He declared, “The Fake News Media should pay a big price for what they have done to our once great Country.”  

A 2021 report by the nonpartisan Congressional Research Service (CRS) concluded, “in the American governmental experience, the exercise of emergency powers has been somewhat dependent on the Chief Executive’s view of the presidential office.” When he was Chief Executive, Donald Trump explained how he viewed the office: “I have Article II [of the Constitution], where I have the right to do whatever I want as president.”  

The tools to do whatever the president wants—whether at the FCC or in the Doomsday Book—are at hand. As the CRS report concluded, such decisions are dependent “on the Chief Executive’s view of the presidential office.”  

The institution that created these broad powers, the Congress, has an important role as overseer of the authority they have delegated to the executive. Congress constantly holds oversight hearings on the agencies of the executive branch; hearings on the unilateral powers granted to the president are warranted. The threshold question for such hearings should be whether there are sufficient guardrails in place to protect against their abuse, and what such protections should look like. Regardless of who wins the election—Congress should review whether the unilateral powers granted to the president in the 20th century need updating for the 21st century. 

[light-yaers]

tangerine. | part two [carmen berzatto x reader]

Fic Masterpost | AO3

Carmen shows up at your diner after five years, and everything comes flooding back like it was only yesterday.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mature themes [discussions about drugs, workplace abuse, family problems]

Word count: 6k+

PART TWO

You lit your cigarette before the back door even fully shut. You leaned against the wall as you inhaled, and exhaled slowly when you could feel the smoke in your lungs expand. It was a nasty habit, you knew, but it was the only time where you got an ounce of peace at the diner. Two minutes to yourself, not in the cold walk-in, but outside where no one could yell for you, or grab at you, or need you. When you were out here, the chefs and staff alike knew not to bother you. It was just for you. 

Carmen knew that rule well, but that didn’t stop him from following you out the door. He burst through the back door like he was an employee under the diner roof, and found you immediately. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, not wanting anything to start today. 

You inhaled again, and let out the smoke quickly. “You know you’re not allowed back here–”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he boomed. Sydney’s words from before had completely dissipated in his mind.

You turned back to him, eyes wide, utterly gobsmacked. “With me? Are you fucking joking?”

“What, it’s been five years and not even a fucking hello or a how you doing?–”

“Oh, sorry, Carm,” you said sarcastically. You stepped towards him in anger. “I was under the impression you never wanted to fucking see me again, huh? Isn’t that what you said last time at USC, or did I just make that shit up or something?”

Carmen shut his mouth. You both breathed heavily as the silence descended over you, only broken up by him pulling a pack of cigs from his pocket and plucking a stick from the foil. He slotted the cigarette between his lips, and lit it without a word. As he inhaled, he leaned against the wall next to you. You smoked together, not making a sound, as smoke coiled around your heads and disappeared into the air without a trace. 

You flicked ash on the floor. “What are you doing here, Carm?” you asked. 

He sighed, trying to calm himself down. “Getting ideas.”

“Ideas for what?” you asked, and glanced at the side of his face for just a second. He still looked the same, just a bit older. He had more tattoos on his arms, and a stronger jaw, but he was definitely the same Carmen you’d known once. 

“A restaurant. In Chicago.” 

You finally met his eyes, awestruck. He looked down at you to his left, and all the years came flooding back. Behind your eyes, behind the pain and the shit he’d said last time, was someone who still cared about his endeavours. It was almost too much to bear. 

“You found a place?” you asked. 

Carmen nodded. “The Beef. My brother’s old place,” he said, and scratched his head almost painfully. “He, uh… died, and left it to me. We’re doing it up.”

“We?”

“Me and Syd,” he said, and pointed back at the door. Sydney was still inside, at the table alone. “And, uh, Nat and Richie.”

You exhaled a shaking breath, smoke free. Your fingers started to buzz. You were torn between wanting to congratulate him, and wanting to walk away. This was immense for him, and something you knew he’d been wanting from the very beginning. He’d done it, was doing it, but despite all the time you couldn’t help but think– 

Weren’t we supposed to do this together? 

It didn’t matter now. It had been too long and you’d missed each other, passed by, lost the opportunity. Even so, after all this time, would you even want to go back?

You swallowed away all the words that wanted to pour from your mouth. “Wow,” you said, and it sounded stale. “That’s… that’s big.”

“Yeah,” Carm said.

“When do you open?” you asked. You tried to keep things light. 

“Couple of months. We need to open fast. Faster than we wanted to, so, yeah. It’s a lot.” 

As his words fizzled away, you looked at the ground. The air between you felt thick, heavy, with all of the words that you both wanted to say to the other, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Now wasn’t the time to think about what could have been. Maybe, if what happened at USC hadn’t happened, things would have been different. You’d still be friends, have any semblance of a relationship, compared to being almost strangers. 

In fact, you’d pick being strangers with Carm over this. Inside, you still harboured the hurt from those years previous. He’d been so horrible. He’d been so cruel. You wondered if he still remembered all he’d said, or if he had no memory of the way he’d cut you to your core. 

It’d been too long. It didn’t matter. Nothing would change from this. 

“Well.” You sucked in a final pull from your cig, before you flicked it on the ground. You looked him in the eyes as you stood up straight. “Good luck with it all,” you said, before you started towards the door. 

Carm shot up from the wall. “You should come to the opening, in July.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You grabbed the door handle, and Carmen tensed immediately. 

“We’re looking for a front of house manager,” he blurted out. You froze. All the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you clamped your eyes shut. “I don’t know– if you wanted a change, or something new.”

Your fingers hurt from how hard you held onto the door handle. Your knuckles had turned white. Quickly, you inhaled a sharp breath, turning back to him. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Carm realised his mistake as soon as you spoke. “Fuck– I just–”

“No, Carm. Think about it. You think that you can come back here after five fucking years, and offer me this like it’s nothing?” You were seething, you were upset. It only cemented that he didn’t realise how bad he’d hurt you, and if he did, then that was even worse. 

He looked around the back of the building, anywhere but at you, trying to find the right words. “I was shitty, I get that.”

“Do you?” You stepped forward once. “Tell me how shitty you were, Carmen.”

“I was– fuck– I shouldn’t have–” he stumbled over his words. 

“You shouldn’t have treated someone– who only fucking cared about you– like that, is that what you were gonna say?” you said over him, and the look on his face told you everything. You knew Carmen well, and you thought that was why he struggled. You could see right through him, especially back then. “You have a habit of pushing away people that give a shit about you.”

He frowned at you in understanding. “Yeah,” he whispered. 

“I hope you grow out of it one day, and realise your worth,” you said, and felt the familiar sting of tears welling in your eyes. 

“That’s what I’m trying to fucking do,” he said, finding his voice. He took a strong step forward, taking you by surprise. “Come and work at the restaurant. You need to give yourself a fucking chance too, not just other people.”

You scoffed at his change of character. “You’re really flipping it this way?”

“Yeah, I am,” he said plainly. “You’ve been here, what, seven years? You know you’re qualified to work in places ten times the level of the diner–”

“God– fuck you!” you burst, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed and your chest stuttered. “You can’t just come back here after all this time and tell me that you give a shit, that you’re living your dream and you finally want me to be a fucking part of it–”

Carmen cut over you. “So only you’re allowed to say I need to know my fucking worth, huh? I can’t say it back to you?”

“I know my worth!” you exclaimed. Carmen sucked in a breath and shut his mouth after, holding his breath. “I’ve known my worth all along, and sure, maybe I’m too good for this fucking place, but it’s my home.” Carmen’s face softened as the words tipped from your mouth. “What worth would I have if I went back to someone who treated me like shit?”

Carmen placed his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. His shoulders were tense as he hung his head in subtle shame. You knew Carmen. You knew he wasn’t like this, not always, which is what made it even harder to say no. 

“This was our dream,” he said gently. 

“It was your dream, Carm,” you said. He caught your eye strongly.

“You were always part of it.” The breath hitched in your throat. “It was always gonna be you and me–”

“Until it wasn’t,” you said over him. There was a finality to your words that Carmen understood wholeheartedly. He’d been too late, left it too long, for you to drop everything and come back now. 

He inhaled deeply, and let his breath out slowly, surely. “I’m sorry,” he said, hitting your eye. “For all of it. The way I acted. Cutting you all out of my life. I’m trying… not to do that anymore.”

You nodded gently, softening your expression. “I’m happy for you,” you said, and you meant it. “I just can’t do it.”

“Okay,” Carmen said. “Okay,” he repeated, trying to get it all to stick.  

You placed your hand on the door handle, and tugged it open. “It was good to see you,” you said. Maybe it was a lie, or maybe it had been nice to see his face after all these years. You just didn’t know yet. 

Carmen nodded. “You too,” he said. You shut the door behind you as you went inside, leaving him out the back with his half smoked cigarette. 

Sydney was amongst the last customers in the restaurant after lunch, and you sighed as you saw her alone. You strolled towards her table, and started picking up empty plates when you approached. “Nice meal?” you asked. 

“Amazing,” Sydney perked up awkwardly. “You were right. Those tangerines are good.”

You smiled. “They’re my favourite, too,” you revealed. 

Sydney rang her hands on the table. “Um, where’s Carmen?”

You kept your face flat, not wanting to show just how erratically your heart was beating after the entire ordeal. “Having a smoke, out the back. You can head out that way, I’ll clear this all up,” you suggested. 

Sydney got up and nodded. “Thank you. It was really nice to meet you,” she said. When you looked at her face, you could tell she was being genuine. “Carmen knows a lot of people in this industry, and most of the places and people aren’t like this, or, uh– like you. It’s a refreshing change.” She smiled. 

You felt bashful at her words, but ignored the warmth that spread to your cheeks. In that moment, you knew that Carmen had found himself a great partner. You just hoped he wouldn’t fuck it all up for her sake. 

Sydney quickly shuffled in her bag, and brought out her wallet. “How much do we owe you?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, before you shook your head. “On the house. How do they say it? No checks.” 

“Oh, no, I insist–”

“So do I. Didn’t you hear Paulie?” you said, stacking a final plate on your arm, as you balanced the rest with ease. “I’m the big boss around here.” 

Sydney smiled marvellously. Her eyes shone when she did. “Okay, okay,” she said, backing off. “Whatever the big boss says, goes, right?”

“Too right,” you said, as you stood up straight and looked at her face-on. “I… I hope everything with the restaurant goes great.”

Sydney nodded, understanding that Carmen must have told you about it outside. “Yeah, me too. You should come by.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her no, so you simply nodded. You stepped back and headed towards the kitchen, but stopped halfway there. “Good luck, Sydney. You’re gonna need it with him,” you said, gesturing towards the back door. Carmen. 

Sydney scoffed, amused. The way her face dropped softly, and her eyes widened gently, made you feel properly seen. Like you were sharing words through looks alone, and absolutely knew what position the other was in, or had been in. “Uh, if you’re ever in Chicago– don’t be a stranger,” she added awkwardly, but you found it incredibly endearing.

You smiled, before you continued to the kitchen. As you did, you hoped it wouldn’t be like what happened to you, for her. 

It was always like this with Carmen. He somehow always found himself next to people like you and Sydney, strong-willed, capable, caring, but almost always fucked it up in some capacity. He’d done it before with you, and others, and neither you–nor Sydney– wanted it to happen again. Not when their restaurant would be on the line.

You dropped off the plates at the sink, and found yourself looking around the empty kitchen. The chefs were out the back, taking their after-lunch break. Sydney had already left through the door at the back of the restaurant, so they’d no doubt all bump into each other before Carmen fully left. 

Gently, you opened the walk-in and pulled the door closed behind you. You ducked down to the lower shelves, at the back, until you found what you were looking for– tangerines. There was a crate of them, some of them fresher than others, but you liked the ones that were almost over-ripe. You grabbed a couple and held them in your hands, before you headed back to the kitchen. 

Grabbing Paulie’s knife, you sliced them into quarters. The insides were the most neon of oranges. Unlike the peels on big oranges, tangerine peels were thinner. You liked it when the colour of the juice was so vibrant that it got stuck behind your eyelids for a moment. You liked it when you picked up a quarter and it almost fell apart. 

You were reminded of a memory then, of the last time you’d seen Carmen before today. Five years ago, when your reservation at Union Square Cafe had finally arrived, Carmen was in the kitchen just like you’d known he would be. 

You arrived on time, dressed in something fancy and upper-class, just to fit in. It’d been ten months since you’d seen him, since he’d left Lucky Strike Diner, and he’d been far too busy to come by. You didn’t blame him. He was finally doing what he’d meant to, and, just as before, you’d been absolutely right– within five months at USC, Carmen Berzatto won the James Beard award. 

You weren’t at the restaurant to tell him I told you so, but you couldn’t deny that you felt powerful about it. You knew Carmen better than he knew himself. But maybe that was more of a curse, than a blessing. 

The hostess sat you down at your table for one, as the restaurant emitted a gentle lull of mutters and chatter. You’d booked a later reservation, nearer to the end of dinner service, and everything was serene as you perused the menu and chose a wine. A few moments later, a waitress brought over your glass, and you sipped at it gently.

This was nice. You could get used to this. Fine dining, putting on a show of excellence. This was so far removed from the world of the diner that you almost felt like a different person. Someone elegant, someone important. Not that you didn’t feel loved or supported at Lucky Strike, but you knew that standards in a place like Union Square Cafe were above and beyond. That’s how they got their stars, and kept them. 

In the kitchen, Carmen worked on an order. He positioned micro basil and other delicate ingredients on the plates, working with immense precision alongside the rest of the kitchen. When he was done, he let out a strong “Hands!” and within moments all the plates had been picked up and whisked from the kitchen. 

He made his way to the expo, banked a few more tickets, before his eye caught something. He stopped– froze, almost– as his gaze fell over your name on the reservations list. 

“Chef,” he said, turning to his front of house manager, who was responsible for calling out orders, and ensuring everything ran smoothly. “This booking, table thirty two– has she ordered yet?” 

“No, Chef. She was still looking the last time a server went to her table.”

Carmen had a thought, and he was going to put it into motion. “Take her menu away. I’ll be cooking for her tonight. Chef’s pick.”

“Yes, Chef,” the manager said, before she quickly fled the kitchen. 

Carmen took in a breath. “I need two veal, four salmon and one beef!”

“Yes, Chef!” the crew boomed in unison. 

You thought you’d decided. The salmon looked appealing, and as soon as you’d picked it was as if a server came over from being summoned. You turned to her, and smiled. “I’m ready to order,” you said. 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” she said softly, as she gently plucked the menu from your hands. “Chef Berzatto is taking care of it for you.”

Chef Berzatto. 

Hearing Carmy’s name in such a way had you downright giddy. You wondered how he’d known, or if he’d been told, or whatever. You knew that top restaurants had a habit of being attentive to the max, so maybe they’d background checked you. Either way, you were excited. 

“Looking forward to it,” you said, accepting the fate of your meal as being in Carmen’s hands. You simply sat back, swilled your wine, and felt at peace. 

As you waited, you peered around the restaurant. Everything was laid out perfectly, had a system that worked, and every couple and group and business party looked catered for. It was an utterly different vibe than the diner. This was a place for another species, not like the locals you knew by name. You’d always assumed that intense and fanciful restaurants like this lacked character, in a way. They chose excellence over warmth, or stars over honest food, but you’d been wrong. 

Already, despite being on your own, you felt like you belonged. Carmen knew you were here, his servers knew you were here, and you knew why you were here. For him. 

A few parties finished up as you waited for your meal. All the while, you were generously topped up on wine from the servers, and positioned right by the kitchen. You could hear the methodical way they spoke to each other, sometimes, and the whoosh of the door every time someone stepped from within back into the restaurant, and vice versa. 

In the kitchen, Carmen finished up preparing your dish. He’d been transported away as he worked, reminded of you with every garnish that he placed and ru that he drizzled. Whenever he saw the colour orange, he thought of you. It was impossible not to, when he’d cut up an uncountable number of tangerines for you during his time at the diner. As he placed the final piece of your dish, he readied himself to yell for hands, but stopped himself.

Instead, he grabbed your plate and approached his front of house manager. “How are we for time?”

“Fine, Chef. We’re in the after dinner lull, only desserts are left. Table thirty-two is the final main of the evening.”

Carmen nodded. “Right.”

“Do you want to take it to her?” she asked knowingly, and Carmen swallowed. “You know her, don’t you? An old friend?”

“Something like that,” he said, not knowing how to even begin to explain you. An ex-work colleague just sounded wrong, but an old friend sounded wrong, too. You’d been so much more than either of those, and still were. You supported his endeavours, and cared beyond belief. 

The kitchen at USC was vastly different from the atmosphere at Lucky Strike. It was robotic, and static, and everyone had their purpose and place. Carmen’s purpose was that of importance, being chef de cuisine, but his superior– the head chef– was not like Paulie used to be. 

Not in the slightest. 

“I’ll take it,” Carmen finally replied. He placed your plate down and straightened out his chef whites. “How do I look?” he asked her. 

She smiled. “Smart,” she said. That was enough. 

As you sipped the last of your glass of red, you tensed when the door to the kitchen burst open. You turned your gaze towards it, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Walking towards you with the speed of a freight train, chef whites donned and clean, hair slicked back, was Carmy. He powered through the restaurant and gained glances of respect from other guests, triggering a small hubbub of chatter from other tables. 

You relaxed even further into your chair, knowing that you didn’t need to perform. You didn’t need to sit up straight, or lean in, or do anything other than smile at him with as much warmth as you could possibly muster. He’d made it, and this was exactly what you’d wanted to witness– you just hadn’t expected him to leave the seclusion of the kitchen just for you. 

Carmen reached your table, and set down your surprise meal. He gently drifted the plate towards you, and leaned down intimately. 

“Your meal this evening is our classic fillet of salmon, with a twist,” he said. You had to stop yourself from laughing. You felt overwhelmed in the best way. 

“A twist, Chef?” you asked. 

“I took the liberty of adding fresh tangerine juice to the jus.” 

Your eyes sparkled as he revealed all. It was very easy to feel special when you were alone with Carm at the diner before, to understand the gravity of his actions when he got past his shyness and opened up more, but this hit it out of the park. Your chest compressed as your heart lurched. Your lungs spluttered as you sucked in a shaking breath. 

The sides of Carmen’s mouth curled almost imperceptibly, but you knew that look from a mile away. That small smile, that warmth, that affection, that he reserved solely for those people that he knew deserved it. That fact you were here, and everything else from before, was reason enough for you to deserve it. Innately, he felt good when he looked at you this way. It made everything clear, wiped the slate clean, made his crumbling chest settle just that tiny bit more. 

Carmen stood up straight, hands behind his back. “I wanted to mention that there’ll be no checks tonight.”

You finally sat up straight, and immediately went to protest. “I–”

“We insist. I insist,” Carm cut you off softly. 

You looked at the perfectly cooked salmon on the table, the bright orange jus, the drops of red wine on the sides of your glass. “Okay,” you said, peering back up at him. 

“Okay,” he repeated, and his smile grew. 

The cogs whirred in his brain, as he became hyper-aware of the other guests around him. He still had dessert orders to fill, and an entire kitchen to break down and clean. As much as he wanted to stay, to sit opposite you, to throw a kitchen towel at your face when you looked at him so deeply and warmly and lovingly, he simply couldn’t. 

He leaned in once more, so much that your hairs stood on edge as he whispered. “I finish just before midnight,” he whispered gently, before pulling away. “Stay.” He swallowed. “Please.” 

“Okay,” you whispered.

You stayed until the restaurant was empty. The hostess at the front folded napkins in the dim light of the deserted bar, but stopped ever so often to fill up your wine glass. She smiled at you every time she did. 

It was a comfortable silence in the empty restaurant, a silence that you knew very well from being at the diner after hours. Inside the kitchen, you knew Carm would be breaking down after service. Cleaning every single surface in sight, scrubbing the floors until they shined, labelling produce with tape that was cut; not ripped. 

Close to midnight, the kitchen door slammed open once more. Carm had stripped off his chef whites, opting for jeans and an old tee. He spotted you from across the restaurant and smiled smally. “Wanna see?” he asked. 

He held the door open for you as you stepped into the kitchen. The sleekness of it all practically took your breath away. Every surface shone, every plate and bowl and mug glimmered. This was such a step up from the diner, one that you’d been expecting, but seeing it in person was far more incredible.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered under your breath. 

Carmen huffed in amusement. “I know.”

“This is… this is insane.” 

He nodded slowly, coming up to stand beside you as the door swayed on its hinges, before settling shut. “It feels like a dream, somedays,” he said, admiring the workspace with you. “And some days, it doesn’t.” 

“I’m so proud of you, Carm.” You smiled. He smiled back, and for just a moment it was as if no time had passed. It was like you were back in the diner, talking about your dreams together. A place to call your own, and all that jazz. Perhaps, those dreams were still there somewhere.

“I’m not sure I deserve that,” he replied, but not quite jokingly enough for your liking.

You sent him a side-eyed stare and caught the look on his face– fear, or perhaps, damage. When he hit your eyes a second later, that look melted away. All you saw then was warmth. Carmen didn’t often show much on his face, but you could see it all. The years you’d spent alongside him had taught you more than how to run a restaurant; you were one of a handful of people that could seamlessly read Carmen like a book. 

That’s why your gut coiled innately. That look wasn’t one that you’d take lightly. 

“How’s it all going?” you asked. 

He let out another huff and shrugged his shoulders, before opting to move away and roam the clean kitchen. “I can’t complain.” He swiped his hand across the stainless steel workbench. 

“And that chef, David or whatever his name is, how is he?”

Carmen froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your hairs stand on end. His arms tensed, until you saw the strength within his veins rise to the surface. He looked up at you sternly, clenching his jaw. “He’s an excellent chef.” 

“Okay,” you said. “That’s great. What about how he manages this place, manages you?”

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” Carmen let out defensively.

It only cemented that you knew something was wrong. 

“Okay– I’ll pretend you didn’t just snap at me for being interested,” you let out belligerently. “What the hell is it, Carm?”

“Drop it,” he said sternly, moving away from you and over to the enormous shelves of shimmering white plates. “I got a James Beard award, didn’t I? I got everything I fucking wanted here, so just drop it.”

“Listen,” you started, fast walking your way around the central island and closer to him. “I get it, I’m not part of this world– your world– anymore. But I still know a thing or two about chefs and their giant fucking egos. What’s going on?”

Carmen closed his eyes and let out a subtly shaking breath. You were taken aback by this whole conversation, the drastic shift in his mood as soon you’d started asking questions. 

“Carm,” you said softly, dialling things down a little. “Just look at me for a second.” 

His shoulders relaxed, dipping into more of a tired hunch than his previous disposition of a deer in headlights. When his eyes hit yours, your heart lurched in your chest. Those eyes, god– the blue was etched in the corners of your brain. Like a clear sky in summer, or a glittering pool, or a calm ocean. Carmen was many things, but clear, glittering and calm were not traits that most people would pin onto him. 

Not you, though. This was the Carm that dreamt with you. This was the Carm that cut up tangerines into quarters for you whenever you asked, or even when you didn’t. Blue and orange, swirling together like the patterns on peppermint hard-candy or gingham squares on the Lucky Strike tablecloths. Ingrained. Permanent. 

“He’s taught me a lot,” Carmen whispered. 

You knew it wasn’t your place, but red flags popped up in your mind and billowed in the breeze immediately. He looked stripped back, a shell of himself, just for those fleeting seconds, and you fucking hated it. 

“You’ve been here for almost a year,” you said, swallowing away the butterflies that had started crawling up your throat. “Maybe now is a good shot to find something else.” 

Carm’s eyes widened brightly, and you saw all his plans from before; his restaurant, his staff, his food and the like. And then, as if a gust of wind uprooted the largest tree within his mind, that was gone. Replaced by something seething, something angry and not at all kind, Carmen rose. 

“You’re telling me to quit?” 

You took a small step back. “Of course, I’m not–”

“No, no, you fucking are.” He bit down on his tongue, you heard it. “You think being here for a few hours and one meal is enough for you to tell me what the fuck to do?”

“Carmen, what are you talking ab–”

“Fuck!” His shoulders squared off, and suddenly he was a corrugated iron board before you. Immovable, stuck in place. “You came here to tell me I’m strong enough, right? What, you want me to go back to the diner with Paulie and everyone else who’s never had a real fucking goal in their lives?”

“Wow,” you breathed out, laughing a little as a lack of what else to respond. 

You stood your ground, as much as you wanted to scream and yell like a petulant child. The look on his face, the brick wall he’d built so high around himself, was something you’d seen before– self-sabotage, tugging away from everything and everyone that was there to help. A level of acceptance and denial alike was testament alongside situations such as this; abusive situations. 

This Chef David was abusing the shit out of him. And Carmen was deep, way down to the core of it, just trying to get through his days, shift by shift, in any way possible. Even if that meant cutting off those dreams, cutting off people from his past– you. 

“You really think I’d do that?” you said bluntly. “You really think I booked this solo reservation a fucking year ago because I wanted to come and drag you back to the diner?”

Carm’s eyes brightened momentarily. “A year ago?”

You took another step back, careful not to immediately fall into him from the childish bewilderment on his face. It was like he’d never had someone care, but you knew that wasn’t true. He just didn’t know how to spot when someone did, misconstrued it as someone trying to harm him, hurt him, ruin him. 

“I booked to come here a year ago, Carmen,” you started. “I fucking knew you’d make it here. I knew that when I came today, you’d be the one cooking my damn meal. I was fucking right.”

It was his turn to take a step back now, just a little. Perhaps he was overwhelmed because he wasn’t expecting this. Wasn’t expecting you to still stay supporting him after he left, or didn’t even want to think about what the guys at the diner might be saying about him after he’d gone. Little did he know, everyone still talked about him with smiles and bright eyes. 

Carmen Berzatto was the only motherfucker out there that didn’t know people supported him wholeheartedly. 

“I’m not telling you to leave, or quit, or whatever else you fucking think I was about to say,” you began again. Carm swallowed nervously. “You can think what the hell you want to think about us at Lucky Strike, but we’re still the same people we’ve always been. I guess that can’t be said about you now, huh?”

Carmen’s anxiety turned to anger in a heartbeat. “What, ‘cause I actually made a name for myself instead of you all staying in the fucking box you planted yourselves in years ago? If that’s why I’ve changed, then I’m fucking glad about it.”

“Fuck– there you go again!” you exclaimed. “You’re talking down to us like we’re pieces of fucking shit on your brand-spanking new shoes!” 

“And you’re looking at me with those fucking baby-eyes like I’m gonna crumble any fucking second!” Carmen screamed. “I can’t fucking stand it.”

You placed your hands on your hips and held your ground again. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” 

Carmen saw red immediately. “If you bring up Chef David one more fucking time, then I’m done.”

“You’re done? Huh, what the hell does that mean?”

“Done with you.” 

Your eyes widened. Bile started to crawl up your oesophagus. In that moment, you’d never felt more like your mother. You knew if you were to talk, you’d adopt her stern accent instantly. You popped your hip out and bent your knee, tired of fucking standing. 

“So, you made it to the big leagues, and now you’re throwing out all your trash. Is that what it is, huh?” You stepped forward once. Carmen stayed where he was. “Look at me right here, Carm.” You pointed to your eyes, not wavering once. “Look at me right here and tell me that you hate me. Do it right now. If you do it right now then I’ll know you fucking mean it. If you do it right now then me, and Paulie, and everyone from the fucking diner will call it quits with you like that.” You snapped your fingers on that. It cemented that you meant it. 

Carmen raised his chin, so close that your noses almost touched. In any other circumstance, maybe you’d have kissed him by now. Maybe you’d have realised that you both liked each other as more, loved each other once, still fucking did. 

But, that wasn’t this reality. 

When he didn’t say anything, you knew you’d won. He stayed as still as he could as adrenaline rushed through his blood. His fingers shook at the end of his arms. His chest thumped incessantly as oxygen tried to tear through his lungs. 

“No?” you asked, almost as a final warning. 

Carm breathed in. “I hate what you represent.”

“And what exactly is it that I represent?” you whispered. 

Suddenly, Carmen dropped his forehead on yours. His hands deposited themselves on either side of your neck warmly, gently. His fingertips set your skin alight. “The one thing I can never fucking have.” 

As much as you wanted tell him to get the fuck off, to stop touching you, your heart melted as soon as your skin felt his. You clamped your eyes shut, leaning into him. Carm let out a pent up breath. His breath was warm as it skimmed your skin. 

“Carmen.” You swallowed. “Please.” You paused. “I– love you,” you stuttered. 

“I know,” he replied. “I know you do.” 

For just a second, you thought he was going to kiss you. It’d be easy to drop his lips onto yours, you were right in front of him. Heads touching, breath mingling, sharing each other’s air like it was the most normal fucking thing to do. 

You wanted him back, it was true. But not like this. Not broken, or bruised, or damaged beyond repair. It wasn’t his fault, you knew that. He’d been moulded this way. But, it was his responsibility to do good for himself. One deep dive into this entire conversation and you knew that it was impossible for him to do that, at least right now. Carmen Berzatto was stuck, and you didn’t want to get yourself stuck in the process of trying to free him. 

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Leave,” was all he said. 

You shook your head slowly, tears welling behind your eyes. “Don’t push me away.”

“Leave,” he repeated, as his hands dropped from your neck to your shoulders. Gently, he started physically pushing you off him. 

“Carmen,” you spluttered. Your eyes opened to see him in pain. God, you fucking hated it. “I won’t come back if you do this. I really fucking won’t.”

He stepped back once, twice, three times. Eyes glued on yours, blue and glassy like a glacier, his heart as cold as one, too. “Good,” he said softly, headed for the door to the kitchen.

“You don’t mean that.” You urged him to stay. 

He only nodded. “I never want to fucking see you again.” 

Carmen left unceremoniously, without another word or glance or care. The kitchen door swung shut, bobbing on its hinges. The only sound you could hear was the buzzing of the refrigerators, and the breaking of your heart strings. 

PART THREE

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi....how are you? You haven't said anything about the game. I think UConn fans on every app were rightfully crashing out. Would love to hear your thoughts when you feel up to it.

Hi lovie, I'm good just busy as per usual but I actually have not been crashing out as much as everyone else. Was it hard to watch? Yes but did I, despite all my cautious optimism, still sort of expect it? Also yes. Here are my thoughts:

Every single thing that we've seen this team do wrong, they did last night. How many times have we been harping on about our lack of 3-pt-defense? How many times have we called out the overhelping? How many times have we complained about a stagnant offense? Literally, all of that happened last night and honestly? I think they needed this loss. So far the team and coaching staff have been able to get away with this without any improvement because we've been winning in spite of this issues and they got complacent. Now they know for sure that they cannot win big games with these flaws, I expect to see this change in our next games.

I'm not sure why there's so much chatter about Paige when she wasn't the problem last night. By all means, she had a good game. The main issue I had with her was her lack of assists but that was team-wide problem because as I pointed out before: stagnant offense. She also did a really good job defensively with Sonia. Could she have played a better game? Statistically maybe not (well I guess she could have scored 40) but what I think Paige lacked, and the team in general lacked, was a spark of some sorts? I am not a proponent of she should force shots (and she took a fair amount of shots imo) but there was flare missing from this team last night and I was waiting for the leader of this team to inject something into them. And it never came and of course that's not all on her, but yeah that's the one thing she could have done better and there's no way to really explain how, just that I know she's done it before.

Actually before I got onto other plays let me talk about that a little bit more because everything else aside, WHERE WAS THE ENERGY? These people went into your house, on your alumni night and EMBARASSED the living fuck out of you on your court. You should be lived, you should wanna do the exact same thing to them and yet, it still seemed like ND wanted it more. And I think of everything I saw last night, that's what annoyed me the most. There was a certain laziness at some point, a lack of fire from everyone (that really showed up in rebounding) and it was in stark contrast to ND who just in simple terms, played like they wanted to win.

I would really love to congratulate KK and KC on what were solid offensive performances. However, it doesn't matter that they combined for 21 points, because I have since realized that they gave up 27 points, and that's only based on how many 3s they gave up so it very well could be more. Egregious work from two guards who are supposed to be our best defensive players.

Sarah looked a little bit like a freshman again but I will say, the couple of "energy" runs that we did have? Those were absolutely spearheaded by her but she just doesn't have the experience yet, where she can start them and then continue them. But it's games like this that will start to get here there and I'm excited to see her against ISU and USC.

Jana had the highest +/- on the team in the sense that she was +5 and she was a huge part of the run that lead us to cutting the lead to one so of course, OF COURSE, grandpa had to go ahead and bench. WHY WAS SHE ON THE BENCH FOR MOST OF THE FIRST HALF?? What was the gameplan? What was the reason? All of it pisses me off so much because why would you not play your tallest player when we were shit on rebounds????

Ice girl, I haven spent the last couple of week saying girlie was starting to look soid and first big game, she goes ahead and makes a liar of me because she was terrible last night. Why she was on the floor instead of Jana, I will never understand.

I have about as many good things to say about Ash as she had points last night. ZERO??? SERIOUSLY? For all KC and KK gave up on defense, at least there was something on offense but Ash gave us nothing. A complete non-factor if not a complete liability. The only right decision Geno made last night might have been benching her in the 4th. But I will say, some players, especially shooters, you needa run a play or two, to get them going. Just one play for her and on the off chance she hits it, you never what that could have done for her confidence and our chances.

Morgan deserved more minutes last night. Girl played nie minutes less and only had one less rebound than Ice. She had hustle and we needed hustle so bad but of course, of course grandpa would bench her.

If y'all haven't realized yet, my main gripe with last night is directed at Geno because I think he made every wrong decision her possibly could and quite frankly got outcoached like nobody's business by Niele Ivey.

Despite all of this, once again, I'll reinstate that I am not crashing out. Everything that went wrong is fixable and I do believe that this team can fix them. Especially because 2 of the biggest things that fucked us over will start to get fixed by two of our players coming back. Azzi will help with 3 pointers and Aubrey will help with defending them. Overall, this was a respectful loss to a good team in December. Championships are won in March. You lose and you learn and you keep on living.

[sliceofdyke]

(4/17/24) asna tabassum, a muslim student in her fourth year of college at the university of southern california, was announced as the '24 valedictorian on april 6th of this year. a vocal advocate for palestine on social media, asna was subsequently harassed online by pro-israel groups including the organization "we are tov" and USC's "trojans for israel" club. on april 15th, USC's provost released a statement declaring that asna would no longer be delivering a speech at graduation on may 10th in the interest of "campus security and safety".

please take a quick minute or two and click this link (bit.ly/reinstate-asna) to send an email to USC staff demanding them to reinstate asna's speech. if able, please also spread the message by reblogging this post and/or sharing this instagram post on your story by the council on american-islamic relations, the organization that created the petition.

[codename-adler]

[Day 01]

@allforthegamebingo ; Angst Edition

slipping on ice - breaking bones - unable to move || “you should have never come here.”

Jean x Aaron // T

———

“You should have never come here.”

“Then you shouldn’t have let Jeremy call me.”

Aaron knew this one decision would be met with fight after fight from everyone involved, and not. First Andrew, because of course. And Aaron wasn’t even asking for the Maserati, Matt’s truck would be just fine. Matt didn’t need to know the distance he’d make with it, at least not yet. It’s not as if he was driving all the way to California. He would never do that. Of course not. Nobody’s worth that much gas…

Luckily the Trojans were playing their eponymous rivals, USC Columbia, where Aaron and Andrew would probably have gone to were it not for Exy and Coach Wymack. Aaron personally disliked thinking about it. This other version of him wandering around, who was probably free of murder and all the other dogshit that went down in just the one year.

And it looked like this season was about to be eventful as well, to say the least. Though nothing could rival the clearly toxic hatred between the two South Carolina teams, and though the Foxes had had nothing to show for a while before thoroughly humiliating the USC Gamecocks (which, why), Jean Moreau’s transfer seemed to have heightened the hate-stakes for everyone. The face-off had been brutal, and dirty. Not many players would be on Saint Nicholas’s Nice List this holiday season.

Especially not the guy who broke three of Jean’s fingers.

There was no way his move had been anything other than intentional. You don’t move your racquet backwards like that once the ball has left your opponent’s net. Yet that #26, Valdekis, has snapped the end of his stick in a wide arch behind his back, while he’d already shoved Jean against the plexiglass. His larger, heavier stick caught Jean’s fingers against the wall, continuing its arch unbothered while the fingers bent backwards far past what the human body allowed. Pop, they went.

Aaron had watched the slow-motion recap one time too many. Trying to convince the med student part of himself, as well as the backliner part, that the fingers could be fine, surely. He wasn’t even close to being convinced when Jeremy called. That’s when he knew it was no longer a matter of if, but how bad?

“He won’t let any of the nurses approach him,” Jeremy had shakily uttered through the phone instead of his usual cheery greeting.

“Not even Davis?” Aaron had responded immediately, taking it in stride. He mentally pushed away the thought of how incriminating it was that he knew the Trojans’ staff by heart, as well as how Jean felt about them, and they about him. He needed that space to go into panic over the fact that this injury was apparently not like the others Jean had suffered since his transfer.

“No one,” Jeremy repeated. His voice was so much quieter than normal. It deafened Aaron like a drum beat on his very heart nonetheless.

“You want me to come?” Aaron asked, because he would, he was already moving, he needed Jeremy to call him stupid and tell him to sit his ass down.

“Yes please,” Jeremy replied, breath shuttering, delivering Aaron’s fast pass to GO! Collect 200$!

And so Andrew fought him without a word, then Neil because, Neil, then Kevin, and the USC Columbia staff, and the Trojans’ staff, and finally Jeremy took over for him. The captain let him in the locker room, which was empty except for a giant backliner trying to make himself infinitely small. Jeremy nodded at Aaron as Dermott and Alvarez waited for him in the doorway, arms open and ready to catch the shaken striker.

Aaron approached the corner of the room, tightening his grip on the “first aid” duffel he’d put together before he left Fox Tower. His steps echoed and Jean felt them.

“I told everyone, and I’m saying it again: my hand is fine, it’s nothing, I can still play. I don’t need anything. I don’t need anything,” Jean bit out without turning around.

“If your hand’s fine after that foul play then I’m shitting rainbows right now,” Aaron spoke.

Jean whirled around, his face contorted in picture perfect affront.

“How the fuck are you here,” Jean said with venom.

“Drove here,” Aaron answered blandly, taking none of the crap Jean was trying to scare him away with.

“You are not needed here. You are not wanted. Turn back around and go away,” Jean weakly barked.

“If you’ll let Davis do his job, sure.”

Aaron thought Jean’s cold front was thing of the past between them, but apparently he could still bite at him, and it could still hurt. Aaron tried not to let it sting.

Jean remained silent. The impasse was foiled with the hum of the harsh neon lights and the pulsating pain shooting up his fingers. He could hear Aaron’s breaths too, calm but a little shallow. All of this was bad. Very bad. Aaron being here reflected how ill-adjusted Jean really was, and that would not do, not for the Trojans, not for the press, and certainly not for Lord Moriyama.

“You should never have come here,” Jean bit out.

“Then you shouldn’t have let Jeremy call me,” Aaron talked back.

Jean lifted his head at that.

“Yeah, Jean. You’re scaring the crap out of him. It’s bad. I know it’s bad. But you and I both know you’ve been worse when you landed in Palmetto. And you and I both know I’ve seen the worst when I had to take over from Abby during the nights. So why don’t you let me look at your hand, see how ‘fine’ it is, and I can help you fix it and put you back on the track. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”

Jean looked at him for a long time. Aaron stood still, letting him search for what he was looking for, hoping he’d find it. No matter the world outside, Jeremy and the Trojans, the Foxes, the fans, the press, Ichirou… Time felt frozen here. The urgency had passed and gone away. He was with Jean, now. He got to him in time. He was here, now, ready to fix him, and nothing else mattered. Aaron could wait. It was Jean’s call, now.

When Jean’s stormy eyes settled back into Aaron’s ember ones, he nodded. “Okay. You can look.”

Aaron put down his duffel on the bench.

“Can I let your team know that we’re gonna start treatment? I don’t want them busting in thinking we killed each other because it’s taking us some time,” Aaron asked Jean.

Jean nodded again, something strange in his gaze.

Aaron moved quickly to the door and slipped outside. The whole team turned to face him in sync, eyes wide and expectant. Aaron was too impressed to address this nervous crowd, so he turned to Jeremy and spoke to him only. “Jean agreed to let me treat him. It might take a while. Do whatever you have to do to be ready to leave as soon as he’s patched up, and to minimize rumours. Don’t- Don’t come in. He’ll meet you when we’re done. Jeremy? He’ll be okay, alright? I’ll do my best. But he’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

Aaron saw Jeremy’s shoulders lose some of the enormous stress weighing down on them. That was enough. He didn’t wait for an answer and moved back inside. He was met with Jean’s eyes immediately. He’d been waiting anxiously, but patiently.

He moved swiftly, taking out all the stuff he brought from home and displaying them methodically on the bench beside Jean’s. He then straddled that bench and sat down facing Jean. He extended his own hand, open to the sky. Then he waited.

Jean slowly revealed his left hand, bringing it towards Aaron from where he’d cradled it against his side. His glove had already been removed. Aaron saw all of the damage in an instant.

It was bad. But it was okay.

Before taking Jean’s hand, Aaron spoke. Speaking was the easy part here. “You know what’s what already, this is only for me, so you can tune me out,” Aaron explained quietly. “Alright. It’s a beautiful night to save some bones. Skin’s not broken, that’s good. Members are heavily bruised and swollen, but no blood or loss of circulation. Phalanges of three middle fingers are bent out of shape, but remain connected to the palm. Also good. No need to pop ‘em back in place. A simple three-finger brace should be good to avoid further damage until proper scans in Cali.”

Jean listened. He remembered how it had been in that dark little room in Palmetto. In the beginning. He remembered how Abby trained Aaron, made him say everything he was doing and why, so she could be sure he was doing the right thing. Even when Abby stopped showing up and let Aaron do the night rounds, he would still voice what he was seeing and doing, step by step. It was those whispers that saved Jean. At first they might have been a distraction, something to focus on instead of the pain and the anxiety and the devil voice in his head, but the more he actively listened, the more Jean understood the words. He was never left in the dark about what Aaron was doing to him. Everything was always as he said, nothing more, nothing less. Every shot, pill, liquid, cream, they all came with Aaron’s quiet voice explaining the what and when and how, and why. For the first time in his life, Jean was in full possession of his medical history, minute by minute.

Aaron didn’t have a local anesthetic, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t the pain that scared Jean. When his fingers snapped on the court, the sudden explosion of pain had been terrifying, yes, but it was the few seconds after, when he’d blacked out, that did him in. Because, for a moment, he was back under there, in the Nest. When Grayson broke his fingers. When Riko broke them too. When he was forced to break them himself.

Smalls would set them straight quickly, quietly, exasperatedly, every time, and tape the fingers together, until next time.

Davis was okay. He warned Jean every time something uncomfortable had to be done, apologizing once, then urging Jean to take care. It was unfair of Jean to compare him to either Smalls or Aaron. But he couldn’t help it. Sometimes he wished Aaron had never happened. He set the bar too high.

Often, Jean would message Aaron about one thing or another that he felt was wrong, but loathed going to the Trojans Med Center to ask for help. Aaron always answered. Unless it was something unusually serious, Aaron always placed the solution in Jean’s hands.

Go to the pharmacy and look for Claritin in the flu section, box is blue with clouds on it. Look for the non drowsy one. Take one pill every 24h. Unfortunately Cali is the kingdom of year-round allergies. Don’t worry.

Take a bowl large enough for both your feet and fill it with ice cold water. After 15 minutes of soaking, your blood should have stopped flowing to your head only and travelled back down. If that doesn’t stop the migraine, try caffeine supplements. If that doesn’t work either, you should ask Davis for a prescription. Migraines are no joke, Jean.

No, you won’t die if you accidentally took your antidepressant twice today. Just let someone else know, Davis or Jeremy or Cat, so they can be there if you start feeling unusual, but I doubt it. Just don’t take your dose tomorrow and drink a lot of water, be sure to properly feed yourself. Happens a lot, it’ll be okay.

And here he was, in the flesh. His flowing words like a lullaby for Jean.

“We’re gonna have to put that brace on, now. Do you have anything to hold for your other hand? It’s gonna feel like a bitch,” Aaron finally said to Jean.

Jean looked around, briefly held up his jersey, then shook his head. Aaron took it in stride and searched around in his duffel. He pulled out a small orange thing and placed it in Jean’s right hand. Jean looked down at it and pressed lightly with his fingers. He looked back up at Aaron, unimpressed.

“Fox stress ball,” Aaron winked at him, knowing Jean was hating it.

Then the hard part started. The taping was painful, but Jean handled it, knowing what was coming would be infinitely worse. Aaron’s calloused hands were ever so careful. When Jean focused on them, he could almost forget the ugly one they were treating.

When Aaron started to put the metal bands in place, Jean wished he’d kept his mouth guard. He feared his jaw would shatter, yet he couldn’t stop biting down. It hurt. He didn’t want to close his eyes, scared to wind up back in the past, but he didn’t want the tears to escape either. He started trembling.

“I know, I’m sorry. I know, I know,” Aaron whispered, trying to work faster.

Jean had no strength left. The stress ball was shit, and he wanted to let go, and he wanted to cry, and he wanted comfort, damn it.

All at once Jean’s control snapped. He slumped down and bit his lips. His bowed head landed on Aaron’s shoulder.

“Jean? Jean, talk to me. Jean?” Aaron said, starting to panic.

Jean only burrowed his head deeper into Aaron’s shoulder. He tried to breathe in, but a sob escaped his throat and made him choke on it as it echoed into the empty locker room.

Aaron freed one of his occupied hands to cradle Jean’s head against him. Jean’s hair was still wet from the grueling match and the following hardships. Aaron turned his face so he could talk into Jean’s ear. “I’m sorry. We’re almost done. Stay there, okay? Bite down on my shirt, you’re gonna break your teeth like that. Okay, Jean? Okay?”

Jean barely nodded against Aaron’s neck. He mouthed at Aaron’s sweater until he had enough cloth to bite down on. His nose brushed along the skin under there and suddenly Jean could smell an entire new world. He took a deep breath, filling his throat with it.

Aaron’s sweatshirt was getting wetter and wetter, and his neck felt humid too, and he could also feel Jean’s mouth, but he pushed on, working to get Jean out of this mess as soon as possible. He was sure none of his clinicals would ever be this hard.

And suddenly it was over. The brace was in place.

Aaron released the breath he was holding, his shoulders slumping, Jean’s head going down with them. He carefully held Jean’s injured hand in one of his own, freeing his other to return to Jean’s hair.

“Hey, we’re done. Hard part’s over. You made it. You’re good, Jean,” Aaron whispered into his ear, emotional somehow.

Jean released Aaron’s shirt from his mouth, but didn’t move otherwise. Aaron carded his fingers through the dark curls, letting Jean have his moment, and indulging a bit, too.

When Jean finally lifted his head away from Aaron, his eyes were dark. Aaron tried to remove his hand, but couldn’t quite manage to let go. His finger rested on the side of Jean’s face, rubbing small circles into his skin and scalp. Any minute, now, he would let go. Any minute.

Aaron squeezed one last time, preparing to untangle his hand. But before he could, Jean took a hold of his chin. His fingers, though unharmed, trembled. Jean leaned down. And down, and down, until his lips landed home, right on Aaron’s.

Aaron tightened his hold.

So did Jean.

No balm had ever soothed either of them this good. There was no medicine like this kiss.

They were tired, hungry, scared. Their lips on one another fixed all of that.

Jean sighed into the kiss, and it almost brought Aaron to tears. He couldn’t get enough. There was a hint of blood on his tongue, from Jean’s mouth, and he savoured it like it was the last drop of water on earth. Jean pushed into Aaron, wanting more, wanting it all. They separated for a second, inhaling each other, before Jean dived back in deeper. He no longer felt his broken hand. He only tasted Aaron, felt him, smelled him, consumed him.

Aaron would have let him swallow him whole. When they finally had to stop, lest they passed out, they stayed in orbit of each other, so close another collision was inevitably imminent. Jean’s thumb traced Aaron’s mouth, their foreheads resting against one another. Aaron mouthed at Jean’s finger with butterfly kisses and small flicks of his tongue. Within their bubble, Aaron quietly spoke.

“Should I go tell the good news to your team?”

Jean looked down at his bandaged hand, then up at Aaron’s lips. “Which one?” he replied, eyes glimmering.

Aaron kissed him again, unable to stop himself. He pulled away with a trembling smile.

“Any one. Any one you want.”

[aftgficrec]

ack finally caught you guys open <333 thanks for all your work! I was wondering if you have any newer longer fics with realistic characterisation and writing (similar to profenity’s works maybe?) and also any non-fox Neil/andrew fics? Thank you!And sorry for the tall order;;🙏

You’ll find an abundance of non-fox andreil in our recent Staff Recs: Writers post. On our tags page under AUs, explore the shops and jobs sections or other themes from fantasy to band aus.

Fandom writer profenity is known for long, meaty explorations of canon characters and themes. Their ongoing WIP ‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ has more than 380k words and 12k+ kudos! Find it in this Raven!Neil to Fox ask under former writing name crazy_like_a. The author interacts with fans on tumblr @hopingforcoordinates. 

We’ve featured or referred to profenity’s ‘Lessons in Cartography’ and sequel ‘The Cartographer and the World’ in many asks. I’m listing some as a doorway to similar works. For something newer, try the Kevin-centric ‘A Falling Star’ series, featured here. If this answer seems cobbled together — it is. This is my subjective, limited attempt at catching lightning in a bottle. -A

check out other works in these asks that feature profenity’s ‘Lessons’ series:

must read fandom classics here

post canon continuation of The King’s Men here

Neil fights with Jack here

andreil exploring feelings, intimacy and sexuality here

in character andreil smut here

small selection of ‘not new’ recs:

‘Hold me close, in fact bury me’ and ‘Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms)’ here

‘Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner’ here

‘progress comes in small steps’ series here

‘Inked Truths’ series here

‘Baltimore Blues’ here

long recs for a return to fandom here

A Falling Star series by NikNak22 [Rated M/E, 245011 words, 3 complete works, Updated Nov 2023]

NB: the author credits inspiration to ‘To Be Certain We'll Be Tall Again’ by fullyvisible, featured here, now complete.

Part 1: Dead of Night (E, 101589 words) It’s Kevin’s senior year at PSU, and things are…okay. But that changes when a single question from a nosy reporter sends his life spiraling. The descent is slow and maddening – memories and trauma from his past weave together to form the image of the man that stands there today. As Kevin begins to look around him with a new and critical eye, though, he’s no longer sure that man is who he wants to be. So the question is - when faced with the truth, is it a case of Kevin finally getting what he deserves? Or is it about time to prove a lot of people (including himself) wrong? Aka the fic that’s all about Kevin Day.

tw: torture, tw: abuse, tw: child abuse, tw: rape/noncon, tw: alcohol abuse, tw: psychological abuse, tw: depression, tw: self esteem issues, tw: body dysmorphia, tw: body shaming, tw: bullying, tw: assault, tw: homophobia, tw: racism,  tw: self harm

Part 2: Darkest Before Dawn (M, 52365) “This is finally it, isn’t it?” Jeremy whispers. “Oui,” Jean says softly on Kevin’s other side. “I believe it is.” And for a moment, they look so lost. Just two little boys about to go out and face the big, wide world. So Kevin searches until both of his hands find one of theirs. He doesn’t look at them, though he feels their gazes on him. He just breathes deeply and closes his eyes. Then he squeezes their hands as he tells them, “I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next.” AKA the highs and lows of Kevin’s life after graduation and into the Pros.

tw: self esteem issues, tw: panic attacks, tw: minor character death, tw: implied/referenced assault, tw: implied/referenced eating disorders

Part 3: In the Light of Day (E, 91057) It’s been almost five years since Kevin graduated from PSU. Five years that he's played Exy professionally. Five years since he’s learned to live on his own. Five years after discovering he’s in love with his best friends, former USC Trojans Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau. Five years since he’s figured out, they will never love him back. So, when Jeremy and Jean invite him to their house for Christmas this year, he knows this is it. It’s the finale. The last hurrah. The swan song. The final act. It’s time he lets them go, lets this foolish, one-sided love go, once and for all. But he might find this is harder than he ever expected.

tw: depression, tw: bullying, tw: self esteem issues, tw: body dysmorphia, tw: imposter syndrome, tw: implied/referenced eating disorders, tw: gaslighting, tw: ptsd, tw: dissociation, tw: implied/referenced abuse

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Rowaida Abdelaziz at HuffPost:

Earlier this month, the University of Southern California announced that Asna Tabassum would be the Class of 2024′s valedictorian, with a 3.98 GPA and in recognition of her community service and leadership skills. She is graduating with a major in biomedical engineering and a minor in resistance to genocide.

But on Monday, USC canceled the speech. In an announcement dated Monday, Provost Andrew Guzman said the “intensity of feelings, fueled by both social media and the ongoing conflict in the Middle East” has “created substantial risks relating to security and disruption at commencement.” “After careful consideration, we have decided that our student valedictorian will not deliver a speech at commencement. While this is disappointing, tradition must give way to safety,” he wrote. “This decision has nothing to do with freedom of speech. There is no free-speech entitlement to speak at a commencement. The issue here is how best to maintain campus security and safety, period.” The school did not elaborate further. Reached for comment, the provost’s office directed HuffPost to Guzman’s statement.

Tabassum, in an interview with HuffPost, questioned the university’s reasoning and told HuffPost she felt disappointed and let down by USC. “I am surprised that my own university – my home for four years – has abandoned me,” she said. In a statement published on Monday, Tabassum said that she was not aware of any specific threats against her or the university, and that during a meeting last Sunday, administrators told her that “the University had the resources to take appropriate safety measures for my valedictory speech, but that they would not be doing so since increased security protections is not what the University wants to ’present as an image.’” “Security and safety is also my concern. That’s consistent with my commitment to human equality and human rights. I don’t think that they’re mutually exclusive at all,” Tabassum told HuffPost. She noted that notable figures including former President Barack Obama, rap star Travis Scott and right-wing speaker Milo Yiannopoulos have all been able to visit campus grounds. [...]

A slew of universities have struggled to address students’ protests of the bombing campaign by Israeli forces in Gaza that has killed more than 33,000. In the last few months, schools have dealt with rising cases of antisemitism and Islamophobia, the deactivation of student-activist groups, suspension of staff, cases of doxxing and harassment and even reports of physical violence. This week, Columbia University’s president is set to testify at a congressional hearing about campus safety, four months after a similar hearing resulted in the resignation of two Ivy League presidents. And the Department of Education launched a series of investigations last November into several universities where students have reported antisemitic or Islamophobic incidents. Tabassum said she was denied a chance to let others see someone like her give a high-profile speech ― a South Asian hijab-wearing Muslim, someone “representative of communities and of the masses of people who never saw the institution made for them,” she told HuffPost. “I wanted to offer the hope that ... we can succeed [at] institutions like USC.”

[...] According to USC’s Annenberg Media, some students and alumni said Tabassum’s social media activity ― which includes a link to a pro-Palestinian page ― was antisemitic. Guzman, however, wrote that this decision was made “based on various criteria ― which did not include social media presence.” Since the university’s decision, Tabassum said she’s been overwhelmed by messages of both support and hate. People from her elementary school who she hasn’t spoken to in a decade reached out. Others have taken to Instagram to speculate about her ethnic background and her political views, and to applauded the university’s decision to revoke her invitation.

The USC's asinine decision rescinding Valedictorian Asna Tabassum's chance to make a speech is craven cowardice to Islamophobia and Israel Apartheid apologia all because of her support for Palestine.

See Also:

The Guardian: Backlash as USC cancels valedictorian’s speech over support for Palestine

[otdiaftg]

One of USC's staff stops by not much later to give them a rundown on the night's outlook. The game is completely sold out, there are six news stations in attendance, and twelve recruiters from summer major leagues and pros will be watching. She had to know none of those representatives will be looking at the Foxes but she lists their cities and teams anyway. "We don't have USC's line-up," Wymack says. "Any idea when we'll get that?" "I'll see if I can get a copy," she promises. "Do you need anything else?" "That's about it," Wymack says, so she leaves. As soon as the door closes behind her Wymack looks to Dan. "You and Kevin start thinking about what you're going to say in pre-game." Dan rubs hard at her arms, struggling to hold herself together and gives her team a captain's unwavering confidence. "Does 'We're excited to be here' and 'We're going to do our best' cover pretty much everything?" "How about 'We're gonna own these losers'?" Nicky suggests. "And that's why you're not allowed to talk to the press," Matt says dryly.

Day: Friday, April 5th / 6th* Time: 6:50 PM PST

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[magz]

Palestine summary for April 24 to April 26, 2024 from LetsTalkPalestine.

[Lets Talk Palestin Link Tree, with ways to help and sources.]

April 24, 2024.

Day 201:

• 79 Palestinians killed, 86 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours

• IOF bombed home in Gaza City, killing a mother & her child and injured 6

🇪🇬 Egypt detained 10+ women, among them lawyers, journalists & civil society leaders, protesting in solidarity w/ Gaza & Sudan

• Beit Lahia, Beit Hanoon & Jabalia in north Gaza under continuous Israeli strikes since ordering evacuation in Beit Lahia, giving them minutes to flee

🇯🇲🇧🇧 Jamaica & Barbados officially recognize a Palestinian State

• Israel built 6 new military outposts since Jan, totaling 9 outposts each within 3 miles of Gaza + plan to transfer 2 combat brigades (4-10 thousand soldiers) from Lebanon’s border down to Gaza — fueling fears of a looming Rafah invasion

🇩🇪 Germany to soon resume coordination w/ UNWRA after Israel failed to provide evidence on its allegations against the agency’s employees

🇺🇸 Biden signed to law aid bill giving $26bn to Israel

• IOF abducts 15 Palestinians including former detainees overnight in West Bank

April 25, 2024.

Day 202:

• 43 Palestinians killed, 64 injured in the last 24 hours

🇺🇳 UN to investigate Nasser Hospital mass graves as Israel denies reports of 392 bodies showing severe signs of torture and mutilation

• Hundreds of Israeli settlers storm Al-Aqsa Compound under IOF protection as raids across West Bank cities intensify

🇧🇪 Belgian aid worker & his 7-year-old son killed among 7 others in targeted bombings on Rafah despite disclosing his location to Israeli forces; 6 aid groups affected by recent attacks

🚢 Freedom Flotilla Coalition delays from departing Turkey due to Israeli pressure on Guinea Bissau in an effort to prevent aid delivery to Gaza

• Israeli forces abduct three 13-year-olds from Ramallah, West Bank as 200 children remain captives in Israeli jails

🇫🇷 France to expand sanctions on Israeli settlers involved in violence against Palestinians, with recent EU sanctions imposed on settlers and organisations for similar reasons

April 26, 2024.

University encampments going global 🌍🔥

🎓 Encampments for Palestine which started in US universities have now spread to France, Australia, and the UK, advocating for divestment from companies & arms manufacturers complicit in the Israeli occupation.

The 42 encampments are mostly in the US, but include 2 in Australia, 1 in France, and 1 in the UK, with more expected.

��� Arrests at Columbia (100+), Yale (50), Emerson (100+), NYU (dozens), USC (93), Uni of Texas in Austin (55) & more as US political & corporate elites fear the surging power & popularity of the Palestine solidarity movement.

Columbia canceled in-person classes, NYU built a wall around the encampment.

👩‍🏫 Many faculty have joined in protest of their administrations’ Zionist stances.

Biden admin. & Netanyahu, a foreign leader, released statements condemning the students.

🔥 In 1985, students forced University of California to divest $3.1bn from South African apartheid

Inspired? @ pal_actionus posts advice on starting one 🫡

Day 203:

•⁠ 51 Palestinians killed, 75 injured in the last 24 hours

•⁠ ⁠Rising temperatures in Gaza worsens condition of displaced Palestinians in tents, UNRWA added 2 kids so far killed by the heat

•⁠ Former head of HRW accuses Israel of obstructing investigation into Nasser Hospital mass graves

🇳🇱 Netherlands to consider resuming UNWRA funding after Israel failed to provide evidence on its allegations against the agency’s staff’s complicity in Oct 7

•⁠ Eastern Rafah under continuous Israeli shelling, targeting homes, injuring at least 2 Palestinians

🇺🇸 US puts halt on potential sanctions against 1 Israeli military unit, despite allegations since before Oct 7 of severe human rights abuses in West Bank

🇱🇧 2 killed in Israeli strike on a car in south Lebanon

🇪🇺 EU announces $73m in essential aid to Gaza despite refusing to sanction Israel

⚖️ ICJ to soon announce ruling on Nicaragua’s case against Germany, seeking emergency measures to halt German military assistance to Israel

[ninyard]

another part of the usc-losing-to-the-foxes to me is that usually after a playoff loss the higher management of the team comes in and tries to triage what went wrong and sometimes fires/hires new coaching staff in an attempt to change strategy for the next year. obviously none of the trojan coaches were fired, so I’m like- what were those conversations with the higher athletic management like?? did they just say “jeremy knox had this crazy idea”? did they bring jeremy in to charm everyone?

YEAH this is such a good point and also how long had the conversation about the lineup been happening? Like how many matches in did they come up with the idea?

And USC being such a big school and so high ranking I imagine they have crazy sponsors and stuff so imagine the higher ups having to be like “yeah look this fourth year rich kid had this idea and like it’s kind of silly because only 9 of the players actually get to experience playing a full game whereas the others just have to like… imagine it? but we support him so we ARE going to lose sorry <3” and their sponsors being like ?? You’re CHOOSING to lose?????

[killed-by-choice]

Cassandra Kay Bleavins, 20 (USA 1971)

In 1971, abortion was legal in California. 20-year-old Cassandra Kay Bleavins and her unborn child were two of the many killed by legalized abortion in California.

Cassandra had an abortion on September 2, 1971 and bled heavily. A doctor tied off a portion of her cervix to try to control the bleeding and then sent her home.

But on September 15, Cassandra returned to the hospital where she had the abortion because she was still heavily bleeding. She was given a follow-up D&C and again sent home. She returned again on September 17, still bleeding heavily, and went into convulsions during treatment. Cassandra slipped into a coma, so the staff transferred her to LA County/USC Medical Center on September 18. She died just after midnight on September 19.

During Cassandra’s autopsy, the coroner discovered a 1.25 inch sutured laceration in Cassandra’s uterus, additional sutures to her uterine artery and uterine hemorrhaging. The medical examiner concluded that Cassandra had bled to death due to the lacerations.

The fact that the still-bleeding lacerations were sutured shows that the abortionist knew that they ripped one of Cassandra’s internal organs and sent her home anyway. Without this horrific act by the abortionist, Cassandra could still be alive.

LA County Coroner Case No. 71-10001

[lboogie1906]

Lieutenant General Stayce D. Harris (August 19, 1959) is the first African American woman to hold a three-star General rank, the first Air Force Reservist to be promoted to the three-star rank other than the chief of the Air Force Reserve Command, and the first African American woman to serve as Inspector General of the Air Force, Office of the Secretary of the Air Force.

She was born in Los Angeles to Clyde Bruce Harris, a career airman in the Air Force, and Alice Mae Tabourn Harris, a banker. She graduated from the 71st High School in Fayetteville, North Carolina, and received her commission in the Air Force via the USC Air Force ROTC program, where she received her BS in Industrial and Systems Engineering.

She received her MS in Aviation Management from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and completed Squadron Officer School at Maxwell Air Force Base. She served in active duty until 1990 when she began working for United Airlines as a commercial pilot.

She made history by becoming the first African American woman to command an Air Refueling Wing. She served as the Assistant Vice Chief of Staff and Director, Air Staff at the Headquarters.

She was promoted to Brigadier General, Major General, and Lieutenant General. She was appointed Inspector General of the Air Force. She was responsible for two field operating agencies: the Air Force Office of Special Investigations and the Air Force Inspection Agency.

Her recognitions include the Distinguished Service Medal with oak leaf cluster, Defense Superior Service Medal, Legion of Merit, Meritorious Service Medal with three oak leaf clusters, Aerial Achievement Medal, Joint Meritorious Unit Award, Air Force Outstanding Unit Award, Meritorious Unit Award, Air Force Outstanding Unit Award with three oak leaf clusters, Combat Readiness Medal with bronze star, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, and Armed Forces Reserve Medal with bronze hourglass.

She retired from the Air Force Reserves in 2019. Her portrait hangs in the Pentagon. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[scooby1723]

Rewatched the game. Someone needs to talk to Geno. His inability to adjust mid game and go with momentum is a killer. Jana only playing 6 mins is crazy. His decision to take KK out the game and put in Chen in the 4th, prob cost the team the game. They had all the momentum, KK changed that game in the second half, it was clear to everyone there at the game but Geno. Morgan was great and deserved all those minutes. Ash was good defensively, need more consistent scoring from her as the SG. There needs to be more presence in the paint, other than Sarah. Our post players having a combined 5 rebs is not going to cut it. He needs to let go of the Ice experiment and dedicate time to Jana. Ice is just not giving anything, Jana played less mins and did better than Ice. People are going to talk about the players and what they should have done, but this was all on the coach. Not to take anything from USC, cause they played a good game, but this was a winnable game, Geno cost the team this game. Coaching staff needs to seriously take a look at these lineups and adjust. Paige, Sarah, KK, Ash & Morgan, Thank you for your efforts, didnt go unnoticed.

[upismediacenter]

OPINION: DiliMall: Not a Mall for All

Photo credit: Lauren Nina Andres

For decades, the UP Shopping Center (SC) was a staple for the UP community. Filled with various stores from computer shops, school supplies stores, photocopying and bookbinding services, to food stalls, and beauty parlors, among others, the SC catered well to the needs of students, faculty, staff, and even residents of the campus. However, in 2018, the well-loved SC burned down, causing vendors to be displaced and its once affordable items and reliable services to no longer be easily accessible.

After the fire, the tenants experienced difficulties with relocating and rebuilding their establishments. According to an article by ABS-CBN, the University’s Business Concession Office drew lots for the affected business owners. Those that were picked were allowed to reopen in other locations on campus, such as Vinzon’s Hall, the Food Hub next to the Fine Arts Building, the Centennial Building, and the Acacia Building, among others. Some tenants were able to rebuild at the old tennis court nearby, provided by the administration as a temporary space, and others opted to reopen in Area 2. A month later, during the 1334th Board of Regents meeting held in April 2018, former UP President Danilo Concepcion announced plans for the rehabilitation of the SC into a more modern structure. And thus, “DiliMall” was born.

The move to rebuild and rebrand the SC as DiliMall was criticized by community stakeholders because the administration’s priorities seem to be misplaced as revealed in the proposed floor plan of the structure posted by the UP Diliman University Student Council (USC) last November 24, 2023. Robinsons Easymart and other known restaurants such as Mary Grace, Pancake House, and Army Navy take up the first floor, while the space given to UP vendors is found on the third floor. Not to mention, the vendors in the tennis court are at risk of being displaced once again since the space will be converted into a parking lot.

This begs the question of whether these “development plans” are truly for the benefit of the community or are merely ways for developers and businesses to capitalize on the university.

In light of this, last March 12, the “UP Not For Sale Network” was launched, consisting of various organizations namely, the USC, Shopping Center Association, UP Academic Workers Union, UP Workers Alliance, Movement for Democratic Governance, and Local College Councils. The network calls against the commercialization of DiliMall and pushes for the prioritizing of the UP Community.

DiliMall is not just the issue

DiliMall is not the first time the UP community has faced commercialization on campus. In an article by the Philippine Collegian, USC Councilor and Community Rights and Welfare Head Kristian Mendoza claimed that DiliMall is part of the implementation of the UP Master Development Plan (MDP), a land use policy approved by the Board of Regents in 2014 aiming to “proactively and systematically” develop UP’s land assets.

Before this, the UP Administration had already begun developing idle lands of the university, approving Ayala Land’s bid to convert 37.5 hectares of land into an information and technology hub in 2006—the UP Ayala Technohub.

The UP Integrated School (UPIS) community is familiar with this issue, as the old Grades 7-10 Building was replaced with the UP Town Center in 2013 by the same developer. From our 8-hectare land along Katipunan Avenue, we were moved to a building built and donated by the Ayala Corporation, a 5-structure facility with a main 4-story building, where the Narra Residence Hall once stood. The new 7-10 Building was budgeted at P180-million, from which P40-million was allotted for upgrades to the Grades 3-6 Building.

Only 10 years later, the Grades 7-12 Building is in a state of downfall, proving to be a great inconvenience and safety hazard to the UPIS community. During the Academic Year (A.Y.) 2022-2023, grades 3-12 students had to share the 3-6 Building since the structural integrity of the 7-12 Building was still being assessed. In A.Y. 2023-2024, although the 7-12 Building was cleared for use, parts of the building have been barricaded due to the degraded structure resulting in longer detours when moving from classroom to classroom and restricted movement among students, teachers, and staff.

The new Gyud Food Hub, which opened in December 2022, posed similar concerns as the development of DiliMall with failing to prioritize UP vendors that have long served the community. In this case, vendors displaced from the Main Library received a handwritten note from President Concepcion assuring them slots in the new facility. However, contrary to the administration’s promise, these vendors were not granted a space in the hub.

Moreover, the implementation of these establishments serves to exacerbate class disparity in the university by focusing on businesses catering to higher-income consumers that exclude students and lower-income community members. Again, the firms affected by the 2018 fire incident in the Shopping Center are still grappling with getting proper spaces allocated among them where established businesses have taken precedence over them.

Additionally, vendors and business owners are not the only ones being displaced by UP’s development plans, but as well as its residents. Homes and residences were demolished and claimed in accordance with the UP MDP. Some of the affected communities were Pook Village C, residents located at the UP Arboretum in 2020, and farmers from Pook Aguinaldo in 2021. These communities and families have been residing in the said areas for decades without any issues, only for them to be evicted from their homes; their livelihoods taken away to give space for “sustainable” infrastructure projects, without proper plans for relocation.

This further demonstrates how commercialization discriminates against marginalized individuals within the UP Community and society.

Additionally, the commercialization in UP Diliman may lead to the phase-out of small local businesses and vendors that have long been an integral part of the community. This greatly affects not only their livelihood but also the culture and diversity of the university’s environment.

Concerns and detractors from the UP community continue to rise towards this issue as stakeholders of the community are negatively affected and neglected by the university. Examples of affected sectors are dormitories, classrooms, and faculty buildings, all of which are experiencing problems with their space, functionality, and facilities.

It is important to maintain and improve the academic environments of UP as this will keep the university’s name, provide equal learning opportunities, liaise with the communities, and secure student wellbeing. These areas are fundamental in the institution for they facilitate learning and contribute towards its success as a top-ranked higher learning institution. To uphold the eminence that characterizes UP, we need to give priority to the conservation and upgrading of academic spaces.

Commercialization for who?

The university insists that converging with the private sector is beneficial as income generated from these rented spaces can be directed to academic and community needs. However, based on the 2016 audit report by the Commission of Audit, it is revealed that Ayala Land Inc. has 209.2-million pesos worth of unpaid obligations to UP. The amount comprises underpayments in rent income and late interest payments for the spaces at UP Technohub and UP Town Center. This raises the question as to why the university continues to commercialize its land when the previous corporation failed to keep up with its lease agreements.

Nevertheless, the university is still in dire need of other means of income. Government funding shortages can be pointed as to why the university insists on commercializing its land assets. Despite the fact that UP’s 2024 budget increased by P508-million, amounting to P24.771-billion this year, 80% of the funds were allocated for the university’s infrastructure projects. Sectors such as utility and maintenance incurred a P1.3-billion cut, and the budget for university operations was reduced for the new budgetary focus. According to an article by the Philippine Collegian, even if the funds for infrastructure were excluded, UP still suffered a P873-million cut. Additionally, P943-million will be cut for the provision of higher education services—which may result in fewer resources allocated to quality education for students. Taking all of this into account, it can be understood why commercialization may appeal to UP—as the university is getting increasingly pressured by almost all sides of its community to take action for its funding shortfalls.

Even so, our integrity as a public education and service institution must come first. It must be emphasized that UP serves as the nation’s model for quality education, and when we allow commercialization and privatization to be fostered within our institution, it may invite other educational institutions in the country to also be dependent on for-profit provisions. Reinforcing this notion, the presence of privatized businesses as stakeholders in the university may greatly influence university decisions, academic programs, and student policies.

In the end, UP must decide between prioritizing the community's interests or pursuing commercialization at the expense of its constituents. However, we’ve experienced the effects of this firsthand: the building we’ve sacrificed for profit forced us to settle for our current building–one that is deteriorating, crumbling piece by piece. We must ask ourselves: are we going to let this happen again? If the university chooses to commercialize its spaces for funding, attention, and care for its students and community must still be sustained.

Therefore, we need to oppose the commercialization of spaces and services in our university, assert our right to quality basic academic spaces and student facilities, stand with the vendors, employees, and families affected, and call on the administration to negotiate better terms with business partners—terms that put the benefit and interest of the UP community first. Furthermore, it is important to stress the need for more funding from the government to be able to run UP’s essential activities and programs successfully. We should come together to protect the good name of our institution and meet its responsibility to the UP community and the Filipino people.

// by Kela Alcantara, Grace Gaerlan, Xia Mentes

Sources:

Abello, L. T. (2024, February 6). UP students protest increasing commercialization of campus spaces. Philstar.com. https://www.philstar.com/headlines/2024/02/07/2331536/students-protest-increasing-commercialization-campus-spaces

Abello, L. T. (2024, March 12). UP community on ‘DiliMall’ opening: ‘Do not commercialize the services to the people’. Manila Bulletin. https://mb.com.ph/2024/3/12/up-community-on-dili-mall-opening-do-not-commercialize-the-services-to-the-people-1

Chua, C. (2022, July 6). UP’s Proposed 2023 Budget Set to Fund DaniCon’s Infra Splurge in His Last Year in Office. Philippine Collegian. https://phkule.org/article/586/ups-proposed-2023-budget-set-to-fund-danicons-infra-splurge-in-his-last-year-in-office

Daduya, J. (2023, January 28). “Nabudol kami!”: UP’s small-time vendors cry foul over Danicon’s unfulfilled promises.https://csspsinag.wordpress.com/2023/01/28/nabudol-kami-ups- small-time-vendors-cry-foul-over-danicons-unfulfilled-promises/

Gavilan, J. (2018, March 8). From photocopying services to Rodic’s: What’s inside UP Shopping Center. Rappler. https://www.rappler.com/newsbreak/iq/197714-things-to-know-up-diliman-shopping-center/

Gonzales, I. (2016, February 25). Ali reviews COA findings on unpaid obligations to UP. Philstar.com. https://www.philstar.com/business/2016/02/02/1549017/ali-reviews-coa-findings-unpaid-obligations-up?fbclid=IwAR2xWm74RVI8zYPn3EHJ9eUw0jaLyj3TMVziHv6i9RFSKZuwoHnDfz-zZsU

Lara, R. (2018). Decisions of the Board of Regents 1334th Meeting, 6 April 2018. The University of the Philippines Gazette, 49(3), 23-24. https://osu.up.edu.ph/2018/04/1334/

Lirio, A. (2023, December 24). An increase with setbacks: A look into the UP System’s 2024 budget. Tinig ng Plaridel.