#about child poverty and homelessness.

[match-your-steps]

why does kagamine len get chosen for the WEIRDEST songs. literally anytime I see anyone saying something like "this [vocaloid] song is incredibly weird" it's either miku (bc duh of course it is she's the most popular one) or len. like literally what the heck. butterfly on your right shoulder. chilledren. maid factor. this one where a bunch of the girl vocaloids are super horny for len I'm pretty sure it's by giga but I'm not going to look for it rn. um i think the one where he's that one song where he and rin sing about getting married but they're star-crossed or something I think idk I haven't heard that one since middle school. I can't remember any other ones rn and sometimes rin is there and sometimes not but I swear this is a phenomenon

[metamatar]

some of you are being outflanked from the left by the jacobin. lol.

For many loyal Democrats, this will not compute. The Biden economy, party-loyal pundits have said over and over again, is tremendous — low unemployment, strong GDP growth, slowing inflation, a booming stock market — and anyone unhappy about it must simply be brainwashed. Out of view in this self-congratulatory hall of mirrors were the constant statistics that said otherwise: evictions up past pre-pandemic levels, record-high homelessness, cost-burdened renters at an all-time high, median household income lower than the last pre-pandemic year, inequality returning to pre-pandemic levels, and food insecurity and poverty growing by large double digits since 2021, including a historic spike in child poverty. Here’s another thing you might not have heard. Largely due to a trick of history, including the COVID-19 pandemic and a Democratic-controlled Congress, Trump was partly responsible for the creation of what the New York Times called “something akin to a European-style welfare state” in 2020 that reduced inequality and even helped some Americans improve their finances for a short spell — and under Biden, all of it went away. Sometimes that happened due to factors outside Biden’s control and sometimes because of his own decisions, but it always took place with little fight from the president, and it contributed to the ominous rise in hardship under his tenure. That meant not only adding to people’s already onerous monthly expenses — in one case in a self-imposed October surprise that made student loan repayment much more unforgiving for tens of millions of borrowers just before voting. It also saw twenty-five million people being thrown off their public health insurance, many of them in some of the battleground states Harris lost last night. Recall that one of Biden’s attack lines against Trump four years ago was that Trump was going to strip twenty million people of their health insurance. This might have been mitigated had the president passed the flagship policies on his agenda, helping people weather the storm of rising living costs. Those that he did enact he sometimes self-sabotaged. (...)

As a result, Harris’s run was a major downgrade from the 2020 Democratic effort. Biden’s never-passed ambitions to historically expand the social safety net became firmly relegated to distant memory, never to be revived; only the child tax credit and a modest expansion of Medicare benefits survived. The campaign combined a sharp rightward lurch on foreign policy and immigration with a handful of laudable populist proposals to ban price gouging and help out first-time homebuyers (while largely avoiding the national 5 percent rent cap that Biden desperately took on before dropping out and that had earlier made its way into the Democratic platform). Beyond the Medicare proposal and vague promises to protect and strengthen Obamacare, the idea of reforming the broken US health care system — one of Americans’ biggest and most anxiety-inducing costs — was almost entirely absent from the campaign. When voters in a Univision town hall came to Harris with their bleak personal stories of suffering under the health care system and asked how she would solve them, she could give them nothing, because her only real major health care policy was for those over sixty-five and already insured under Medicare.

[sagelasters]

barbados is a mindset

“Yes. You are now in Barbados. And so… you see Barbados, and you see America from Barbados, and you can smell the tropical land of Barbados, see only the little homes of Barbados, and that’s all you do. You just simply sleep this night in Barbados.” - Abdullah tells Neville.

Before Neville Goddard knew of the law and practiced it, his country was plunged in a state of instability. Poverty runs rampant as the global stock market crashes, sparking panic and leaving many penniless. Neville explained the vivid details of homeless people scattered all over tunnels and city square, eyes void of hope for the future. He was unemployed just like millions of others, his career as a dancer wasn’t enough to support his living. Neville lived in a basement for years with little to no income until one day, he met his friend, Abdullah. 

Abdullah was well-off and is the son of the US secretary of the Treasury, who served under the 32nd president. The differences between them were large and Neville was aware of it. He confided in his friend and told him that he has this haunting desire to visit Barbados again. The only thing that was stopping Neville though, was the lack of money. In which Abdullah says, 

“You are in Barbados.”

Of course, Neville thought he was nuts but the man decided to try and assume that he was in Barbados. That night, he went to sleep thinking that he would wake up in Barbados, only to be disappointed that he woke up in the cold basement he called his home. Neville would come back and tell Abdullah that it didn’t work, only for the latter to ignore him. Despite that Neville kept persisting and on the morning of December, he got a letter from his older brother asking him to visit his family in Barbados – his brother had paid a third class ticket. Excited, Neville told Abdullah that he is going to Barbados however, his friend was unimpressed. Abdullah told Neville that he wasn’t boarding a third class ticket, he was going to go there with a first class ticket. 

And guess what? When Neville gave his ticket to the clerk by the desk as they’re checking in passengers, they told him that someone canceled their first class ticket, therefore a spot was available for him. 

Abdullah ignored Neville when he said ‘it didn’t work’ because it did work, if Neville was assuming that he was in Barbados, they wouldn’t be having this discussion about him not being there. What can you take from this story? I would say that unfortunate circumstances don't matter, especially when we see how bad and dire Neville’s financial situation was. Come on, he was in a country torn apart by war and poverty, yet he was still able to visit Barbados. Neville didn’t think of how he’d get there, he just simply assumed that he was there, and his 3D reality follows right after. 

Barbados is a mindset. If you can imagine yourself having it and then accept that it is yours, you’re at the end. Your assumption is the fetus, continue nourishing it with beliefs and affirmations – let that child grow and become. If you drop your assumption that basically means you’re neglecting the fetus, and it will eventually die from starvation. 

It doesn't matter if you have no money, it doesn't matter if you're in an abusive situation, it doesn't matter that you barely have a roof over your head. You are already in Barbados, tune into your inner man and bask in that.

EDIT: My apologies for getting the information mixed up. Abdullah is not the son of US secretary, rather he lived in a house that was rented by the latter. Sorry for the confusion!

[mr-jack-letterman]

We need more young stan content out here.

And nah I ain't talking about 12 year old Stanley or 30 year old mullet Stan, I'm talking 17 year old, slicked back hair, acne riddled Stan pines.

Yeah that one.

I am so happy mullet Stan is so popular because his fit slaps ngl and the angst is so potent I can't not respect it. But teenage Stan has so much potential it's driving me insane.

There is a line dividing the 17 years of relative happiness Stan had with Ford and the 10+ years of depression and crime he had on the streets, and teenage Stan uses that line as a goddamn jump rope.

Seriously, depending on how you look at it dude is either living his best life or is fighting for said life in the trenches of homelessness and poverty.

I see a lot of content regarding Stan on the streets but it only ever focuses on 30ish Stan in his later years of homelessness where he's already a hardened adult after years of dealing with this bullshit. But Stan didn't just drive away and then magically turn 30. There were times in those first few months after Stan got kicked out where he was in his car, trying to sleep, probably starving, while still being fundamentally a child.

Hell, compared to the 30ish age of mullet Stan and the 60+ year old con man he'd later become, teenage Stan is damn near a baby. There's a certain brightness about him, a sort of warm naive optimism that still clings to him because he's straight up just too young to know any better.

He's still fully convinced he's gonna make it rich and go back to his family in a few years. He still believes wholeheartedly that even if shit sucks right now, eventually everything is gonna be okay. It has to be. But it's not gonna be okay. It's not gonna be okay for a long time. And some parts are just never gonna be okay.

Seeing a happy and oblivious teenage Stan feels like watching a baby lamb walk into a slaughter house.

The next 10-something years are going to tear him apart limb from limb. In 40 years he's going to wake up on a boat during a bout of amnesia thinking he's in Columbian prison, or he's locked in the trunk of a car and about to drown, or his shoulder is on fire and his brother is gone, or it's the end of the world and everyone he ever dared to give a shit about is about to die in front of him and it's all his fault because he was too weak to stop it.

At some point, a young Stanley is going to get into his first true life or death fight. He doesn't even have to be involved with crime yet for it to happen. He's probably bruised and bleeding, with not nearly enough money to afford a doctor. He's sitting in the driver's seat of his El Diablo having a complete and utter break down because he almost died and suddenly everything is real.

Nothing is okay, absolutely nothing is going to be okay and whatever is left of his teenage innocence, naivety, and warmth dies in that car and it never comes back.

The next 10+ years are going to fundamentally change Stanley as a person and he's never going to be the same ever again. But teenage Stan doesn't know that, he's still a kid trying to sleep in the back of his car, ignoring hunger pangs and finding comfort in the half baked business ideas his mind cooks up because he doesn't understand how utterly done for he is.

12 year old Stanley I believe is so appealing because of his bright rambunctious spirit. He's still just a kid playing on the beach with his brother, but so was teenage Stan. I just wish the wholesomeness that comes with that and the subsequent hurt that follows as that spirit is broken over and over again by the world was explored more.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, classism, degradation, possessiveness, obsessiveness, blackmail

gn reader - feminine clothing (jewelry: earrings, necklace)

Thinking about your rich boyfriend…

Rich boyfriend – who buys you clothes and jewelry every time you have a date, even when you tell him you feel bad receiving them all – that you have nowhere to wear such nice things – that a simple date is really more than enough. 

Rich boyfriend – who ignores you with a smile and shake of his head, asking you how you expect him to stop when you’re just the absolute cutest? Looking at him with those moon-big eyes, humble crinkle between your brows, and your lip tucked nervously between your teeth to keep from gawking. 

Rich boyfriend – who orders for you at all the restaurants he takes you to because he knows you’ve never been anywhere like it. Looking so adorably lost in your seat, flushed when staring at the menu written in a language you can’t read – knowing even if you could, you still wouldn't know what any of it meant. You’re so, so, so precious – eyes peeled like you’re a pet who’s just been allowed at the table for the first time.

Rich boyfriend – who plays four instruments, speaks five languages, went to an Ivy League institution, and will inherit his entire family’s business being the spoiled only child that he is.

Rich boyfriend – who just loves the messy household you grew up in – loves how you and your siblings interact with each other, looking like a bundle of pups all crammed in the same cage at a pet store – how your childhood bedroom is the size of his closet – filled with all sorts of trinkets you’ve kept growing up – stuff that would usually wind up in the trash at his house – polaroids of you as a teenager, past boyfriends in kissing booths, prom pictures, concert tickets, and old rusty friendship lockets. 

It’s all so… He scoffs. The word for it escapes him.

Suppose he doesn’t quite recognize the pricelessness of sentimental value as opposed to something actually sellable – but he finds it cute that you do. 

Though, it bothers him to some degree as well… that you would value an old pair of earrings gifted you by your grandmother instead of the actual antique diamond pair he’d procured for you. After all, one was a real historic piece worth a fortune a Russian duchess had snuck into England during the war, and the other was old junk made by a noname jeweler.

Rich boyfriend – who chokes on his spit when you sit him down and tell him you want to break up – who thinks he’s misheard – that you’re joking, playing some uncultured game he’s never been exposed to, some ill-taste past-time only poor people do to escape their bitter reality. 

But you’re not joking… 

You’re breaking up with him…You.. You… broke trash of worker-class scum… you’re breaking up with him?

You give him back all his gifts in a cardboard box – telling him you’re grateful but that you truly don’t have any use for such things – that you think your worlds are too different to coincide. 

Of course, you refrain from telling him you think he’s a classist snob. You have a feeling it would have gone completely over his head if you’d tried anyway, so there really was no point to it.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who’s never been told no in his entire life…

Rich ex-boyfriend – who buys your street and plans on scrapping it to make brand new mansions in a project he dubs “cleaning up the slums” – evicting and putting you and your entire family out of the home you’d spent your entire life growing up in.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who thinks you’re crawling back to him when you schedule an appointment at his office – who thinks you’re going to come in with bleary wet eyes and grovel like the lowly peasant you are – let him save you from poverty and homelessness, make you his charity case – his pretty diamond in the rough who’s never quite able to wash all the coal off.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who trashes that same office when you leave after having given him the address to the pawnshop you sold the one pearl necklace you’d kept as a token of your relationship – telling him he should feel free to go down there and get it back – that you’re using the money to buy a better house and you just wanted to come and thank him for that. 

Of course, you wanted to slap him too – spit on his tie or maybe just take a piss on his desk – but you left it at that.

Rich ex-boyfriend – whose next move is to buy your family business, who hires a private eye to dig up dirt on you and all your family, burying you in fines from age-old petty crimes, gets you kicked from your scholarship.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who goes to that pawnshop and reports the pearl necklace as a stolen item and has the police arrest you. Spinning a story about how he thought you were this humble sweet thing, only for you to rob him behind his back.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who comes to visit you in the custody suite where you sit cooped up with all the other wretched mutts on the cold concrete floors – scolding you for making him come down to a dirty police precinct, for having him breathe the same air as all the lowlives held up there.

Rich ex-boyfriend – who tells you he’ll make it all go away.

He’ll drop the charges, let your family keep their house – or buy them an even better one, whichever you prefer – he’ll even promote your family business and pay for all your siblings' education – he’ll give you everything. 

Anything you want, it’s yours.

But he owns you.

BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo, Rin

HxH – Illumi

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 

That was sure to go over well.  

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough fa��ade you’d worn. 

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[p5-apotelesma]

im pretty sure some orphanages in japan will Pay for a child’s school tuition* up until highschool. and goro signed a contract with shido at 15? right when he was meant to enter highschool? (and would also likely be aged out of the foster system. yes some have done this to kids as young as 15)

the whole thing this just screams. goro about to be homeless (or is already) and having nothing but his dreams of revenge as a goal or window into a future that from his perspective he. didnt have. at all. (only justifiable through being a vessel for his mothers vengeance, mostly) he would otherwise live on the streets in poverty.

goro is not of age of majority, so shido owns his condo. shido got him his internship with the SIU. his media connections. and the financial means to continue his education. (and he can take it all away.)

okay so. you know how maruki Actualizes sumire because it was what she wanted. because she was suicidal and this was her minds first line of defense? and even though it was Wrong and Very Fucked Up she acknowledges that it Got her through it?

i see yaldy giving goro his gift. of access to the cognitive world. of his awakening. the same fucking way. as a neat little parallel. motivations aside, a case of those in positions of power experimenting on suffering children who are desperate enough to seek an end to their pain that they would throw their lives away. it was very fucked up but. it got him through it. this was the only path he could see.

of course goro would be given this power when he needed it most. during a massive and stressful change in his life. yet another major trauma in a series piled on top. (just like when ren got his.)

[frogaroundandfindout]

I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"

I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT

jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god

When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.

But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.

If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.

But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.

But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Harris ultimately chose not to campaign on a social welfare agenda that could’ve delivered another historic reduction in poverty and improvement in overall material well-being. Her economic platform was far less robust. While it did include a few policies enacted under the 2021 American Rescue Plan like the expanded child tax credit, it failed to meet the moment. It was not a credible response to record homelessness, record household food costs, a record increase in child poverty, and so on. To make matters worse, the Harris campaign’s closing argument revolved around platitudes about democracy and Trump’s threat to it, rather than tangible policy solutions to people’s most urgent problems. Instead of following the successful, policy-focused playbook of Biden’s 2020 campaign, Harris mirrored the failed, largely substance-free approach of Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign.

Stephen Semler, How the most unpopular US president got reelected

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[lefarte]

I wanna know how funger boys will be like as a father :3 (if they are even there and not for the milk)

This is a long one but a good one

(I did not do the funger 1 cast because we basically already know what they’d be like as fathers but I can do that in a seperate one)

Daan

I think he would cry when the child is born.

He would drop smoking for the baby, you wouldn’t even notice until suddenly all the cigarettes in the house are gone. He doesn’t want his kid to grow up seeing him smoke, nor drink for that matter.

I think he’d worry a lot about being like his parents, so he’d overcompensate by hovering around the baby 24/7. You’d hardly get any chances to change the baby yourself because the moment he hears a cry he literally jumps out of his seat and goes RUNNING.

For the first few years he’d be very overprotective of both you and the baby. Especially the first few weeks, where he would not even leave the house. The only way to convince him to go outside would be together, while taking the baby in a stroller. And he wouldn’t want to walk far… what if the baby gets tired…

Money is no issue. He’s been living off the Eihner’s inheritance for quite a while. While he’d still have to go back to work eventually (he wants to save most of that money for the kids) I believe he would be a full time dad for at least 4 years.

He sometimes lets his baby wear his eyepatch.

Levi

Well, he doesn’t exactly have great sex ed, and times were different back then, so…. Becoming a teen father is entirely in the picture here.

He’d be terrified. He’s an addict, he has no job, he’s homeless, there’s not a penny to his name. He can’t support a family. But it’s not like he can just drop the kid at an orphanage, especially knowing everything that happens there.

I think the first thing he would do is try to find work. Sell everything that he has, sell his army uniform, sell his gun, hell he’ll even steal if he needs to. It’s one thing if he lives in poverty, but he can’t let his kid go hungry.

He’d have to work long hours suffering from withdrawal. But at least you can rest easy knowing that he’ll never go back to drugs. He doesn’t want his baby to even know that he used to be a soldier or anything that happened in his past.

He’s really fond of the baby. He has a quiet way of showing it, but he speaks to the child very softly, holds their little hand and watches over them when they sleep.

A nice thing about Levi as a dad is that he sleeps and moves so lightly that if the baby ever cries at night he can get out of bed to check on them without you ever waking up from your sleep.

“It’s so nice that our baby always sleeps through the night!” “Yeah…. 😐”

He would struggle as a father, he would not be the perfect dad, but he would try his hardest and would definitely not leave.

O’saa

He is so proud of the baby all the time even when they’re doing absolutely nothing. Like, bragging to everyone about how he has the smartest baby of all time when they’re just sitting there chilling and playing with toys.

After the birth he would want to host a celebration, to let the baby meet their family back from Abyssonia and your family as well. (Maybe a week or so after the birth as to not overwhelm you.)

His parents would spoil the baby (and you!) rotten with gifts. You’d have to beg them not to spend their whole salary on toys for them. I think Osaa would be a little embarassed as well.

One thing about Osaa as a dad is that he doesn’t do ‘baby talk’. He talks to the baby straight out of the womb as if it’s a fully grown human being, having full conversations with them.

“Gagaga….” “I see 🤔” “bababa ga ba” “and then what 🤨?”

So when the baby learns to speak they talk JUST like him. They don’t babble they go “Hello. May I have the juice.”

If the kid has long hair he’d braid it in very intricate styles, with beads of their favorite colors and everything. And he’d dress them up in unreasonably expensive clothes for a toddler. Like, why does the 3 year old need 200$ shoes…..

Overall, he’d be a little strict as a father, but a good father nonetheless.

Tanaka

When the baby is born, he sees how tiny they are and tears up on the spot. He makes a sacred vow there at the hospital to dedicate his whole life to making his baby smile.

He wants to spoil his kid and give them everything his father never gave him growing up. So that means he’s a complete sucker. Every toy the baby wants, they get. They want ice cream? They’re getting ice cream. They want to play at the park? Well, now you have to put your shoes on, because you’re going to the park.

He doesn’t let the baby meet their grandparents on his side.

He would only have about a month and a half of parental leave. On the first day he has to go back to work he hugs the baby goodbye and sends the baby into a crying fit, only for him to come back in like 4 hours because he took the absolute smallest amount of work he could take.

He spends at least an hour every day teaching the baby Japanese, so now you have a baby that speaks a language that you (probably) don’t understand. Now the kid is saying stuff like “キャンディーが欲しい” and every single time you have to explain that you don’t understand that before they start crying.

Group hugs every time he gets home from work!

Marcoh

The baby’s whole hand could barely fit around his pinky finger…

He’s always afraid that the baby will be scared of him so he speaks so quietly and gently around them. So as a result the baby has a soft voice when they talk. I think they’re also a naturally quiet baby just like he was as a kid, they don’t throw tantrums or scream.

You have to convince him, no, the baby’s not scared of you, it’s literally YOUR kid.

He tells the baby stories of his home in Vatican City and the memories he and his sister shared together. He gets a little quiet when the kid asks if they can visit someday.

It’s been nearly 20 years since his parents died. He doesn’t grieve them anymore, but sometimes he prays and wishes they could give him advice on how to be as good of parents as they were. He wishes the baby could meet them, but he can’t even visit their graves.

Also, his sister is going to hang around. Your kid and her kid are going to be raised close to each other. Keeping his family close is important to Marcoh so you’re going to have to deal with Christmas celebrations, thanksgiving, etcetera.

When the kid gets old enough to go to kindergarten Marcoh will want to teach them a bit of self-defense, just to be safe. It’s a good way for them to bond, and it’s funny seeing the tiny kid beating on a huge punching bag.

Henryk

Sobs when the baby is born, he can’t even pretend he’s not. He never wants to let go once he holds them.

The baby lives a good, cozy life in a small house in the countryside of Rondon. They’re not gonna be rich, but they’re gonna be comfortable all their life and have a happy family.

He doesn’t like his kid to sleep alone, he’s putting the crib as close to the bed as possible so he can keep an eye out while he sleeps.

The baby’s grandma is going to be very active in their lives. It’s good for you two, it puts a lot of pressure off for if you ever need someone to babysit, and the baby loves her too.

Yes, of course, the baby will learn how to cook. It’s only natural that they’ll see him working in the kitchen and want to ‘help’. Of course he keeps them away from hot stoves and knives, usually he just holds them up on his chest and allows them to stir a pot or something while he supervises.

I can imagine him trying to encourage them to play outside by playing tag or some kind of ball game and totally getting his ass kicked. Like not even “I let them win because they’re a kid”, totally destroyed. Embarassingly so. Next time they’re doing something indoors like coloring books.

Your house is gonna be right next to his restaraunt, so when he goes back to work, your kid is gonna be that kid doing math homework on one of the restaraunt tables.

Pav

I’m going to be honest with yall. Pre-Kaiser injury, he’s leaving for milk and not coming back.

He does not want the kid to grow up with a father like him, who’s a Bremen soldier, a drunkard, a smoker and a womanizer. He has shit to do, he could die literally at any time, and he’d be a horrible father. They’ll be happier without him. So he’ll leave you with some money for the trouble and walk out.

Post Kaiser injury, he’s more… somber. He can’t remember having ever held a baby. Having his own feels strange. The kid will grow up to resent him when they learn his past, and that’s hard to bear.

He will just ask you directly, “Do you really want me to raise this kid?” And if you say yes he’ll stay. You did save him after all. He could at least do one decent thing for your sake.

Money will be an issue. After he was mortally wounded, holding a steady job will be difficult. And it’s not like he has any family to support him. For a few months until he recovers you’d probably be living off what he made as a lieutant plus him doing some odd jobs, which is not exactly great, but keeps you afloat.

As inexperienced as he is, he’s pretty overprotective, especially during the younger years. He’s constantly holding the baby like someone is going to take them from him. The only other person who’s allowed to hold the baby is you and whoever you hand them to. And when you hand them to somebody, he stands upright with his hands behind his back like he’s on guard duty. (He gets embarassed if you mention it.)

Like even if some poor old woman tries to pinch the babies cheek at the supermarket he straight up growls, you have to make him stop.

He’s physically affectionate, he likes to play fight with the kid (he lets them win to make them feel stronger), poke them and ruffle their hair. He also likes the whole family to sleep in one bed to preserve warmth, that’s how he was raised.

Bonus, the kid knows how to say “fuck” and “shit” by 2 years old.

August

August is already a father, and he’s a little old to be getting you pregnant. So, yeah.

Caligura

He leaves you. And not only does he leave you no child support, he STEALS your money. Negative child support.

[mikakuna]

dc scoring in the 80s by creating a robin with a poverty-stricken home life, addict stepmom, complicated father, followed up by said mom's death and father's jailing causing the kid to be homeless, and overall making a robin who was very relatable to lower class dc fans, simultaneously upgrading their diverse character rep game.... just to turn around and kill off said robin and make the next two robins back to being rich as fuck and having those robins talk the most shit about a dead child who came from the worst streets in gotham.... is just soooo.....

[jedimaesteryoda]

Where I live three schools attempted to pass measures requiring the teachers to notify the parents if their kids are trans, or basically forcibly outing transgender kids to their parents. Thankfully, there are a large number of people coming out opposing this measure, but unfortunately, the "parents rights" crowd is also coming out in support.

I've argued with people on social media supporting the policy saying the parents should be obligated to be notified if their kids are trans, it is their right. The subject of "parent rights" is actually historically familiar.

Hegel, himself a school principal, was a proponent of universal public education, explicitly saying "The State has the absolute duty to make sure that children receive an education." He noted its value towards society allowing poor families to "rise above their condition" and have the children "develop talents" that would otherwise be stifled by poverty. While his position is pretty much modern, he had his opponents who stated it violated "rights of individuals" specifically "those of fathers over their children."

Hegel criticized such arguments, saying it took from the ancient tradition of Rome that reduced children to "things" and saw the child as the property of their parents when "he must be a member of civil society, has rights and claims within it, just like those he had within the family" and "children have the rights to be educated to live in civil society, and if parents neglect this right, civil society must intervene." In other words, he saw "parents' rights" as reducing children to property with no rights rather than people deserving of their own rights, especially the right to an education.

Let's say CPS comes over and takes kids from a horribly abusive household, would that action be considered bad for violating the rights of the parents to their kids? No, because to do so would come at the cost of the kids' rights to a safe and healthy environment.

Which brings us to the present topic of outing trans kids. The proponents are saying it is the "right" of the parents to be told if their kids are trans regardless of their child's consent. They don't mention the child's right to consent, nor do they care, since it is not about the best interests of the child but the parents' control over their children. If a child has not disclosed their identity to their parents, then it is not unlikely that there is a good reason for it. Their parents may be transphobes, and such parents may respond to the knowledge of their child being trans with abuse, by trying to "fix" them, force them to be cis, up to and including conversion therapy, and in a number of cases kick them out, or the teen runs away with LGBT teens making up around 40% of homeless youth. Both actions can increase the child's chances of suicide with ~30% of trans teen girls admitting to having attempted suicide. In the worst cases, there are parents who kill their trans kids.

A parent is supposed to provide for their child in material terms with food, clothes and housing as well as emotional support, but a parent should not say "I feed and house them, so I have a right to . . ." as parenting is not a contract given kids did not choose to be born. "Parents rights" is BS as parenting is not a right but a privilege. The child is the one with a right to a safe, comfortable environment, and so long as the parent provides them that, their privilege of being a parent is respected.

Children are people. Trans people are people. They are members of civil society, and have a right to consent and safety. Don't support outing trans kids to their parents. Period.

[aalghul]

Not to jump back on the bullying Tim bandwagon but there’s this trope of characters treating Tim’s backstory like it’s more tragic that any of the others and it’s literally driving me nuts.

Characters will go on this long tangent about how much Tim’s neglect messed him up and how angry it makes them and then they’ll just brush over literally everyone else like their childhoods were all just fine. Jason will go on this whole monologue about how appalling it was that Tim was left to fend for himself how amazing he must be to survive that and I’m always like huh do you have amnesia bud because that’s legit your childhood too + looking after your sick mum + extreme poverty + domestic abuse. Its like they’re only just discovering the concept of child abuse through Tim which even ignoring their backstories doesn’t make any sense since they’re all vigilantes.

no this is such a common phenomenon in fics I don't get it. using any of the main bats to make tim specifically look like he's suffered something unimaginable to them feels like a joke. tim missed his mom. jason lost both his parents to a system designed to doom them and was homeless for months. steph's dad was an abusive villain. cass' dad raised her like a weapon. what are we doing right now.

[little-riddles]

pretty boy | c.s

pairing: coriolanus snow x oc!plinth word count: 6.2k warnings: mentions of war, mentions of poverty

aurelia would never admit she was anything but capitol, she refused to acknowledge her past home and only her future. unlike her brother, she didn't sympathise with the friends she'd left in two. instead, she was grateful for the opportunity they had living in the capitol, being at the top of society and comfortably lapping in the luxuries.

her mother would often say she was her least troublesome child, something the girl would gloat about whenever her brother was around. she never complained about the life they were privileged enough to be living, always going with their parents to every gala or event with a polished smile on her face. aurelia never complained when their parents would insist she be chauffeured around the city even to the convenience store round the corner from their house.

sejanus sometimes resented his entire family for their ignorance, their lack of accountability for what they left behind in two. the wealth they had gained from betraying their district felt like dirty money to the boy, tainted with the blood of the rebels who died at the hands of his father's weaponry.

he could barely recognise the girl he once called his sister, the girl who would go with him every weekend to hand out pastries to the homeless that she'd made the night before. the girl who would try to look after and adopt every stray animal she spotted on their way home from school. she'd been tainted by the luxuries of the capitol and their mindset. no longer would she be his best friend and confidant in all of his deepest thoughts.

even just looking at the girl as she sat opposite him that morning for breakfast, the boy could hardly recognise her. her once matching dark curly locks were long gone, replaced by a golden blonde colour that made her tanned skin look paler than usual. her curls were brushed out to be looser than they usually were, her baby hairs pinned back to reveal the new piercings along both of her ears.

"caius is not feeling well this morning and won't be driving you. so you're going to be walking. you'll have to get going soon, kids." strabo read his newspaper as he said the words that made his daughter stop mid chew.

"but i still need to get changed." aurelia stared wide-eyed at her father, motioning to her silk pyjamas. "i thought we had another driver in case of emergencies."

"syrus has been called away to drive the cranes this morning, i'm sorry, sweetheart." strabo sighed at the sad look in his daughter's eyes, knowing she prided herself on her looks at the academy.

"i can get mrs vardi to steam your uniform quickly before you have to go in, sweetheart." mrs plinth smiled at the blonde, nodding her head at the maid who was already rushing upstairs to get the girl's uniform sorted before she made it into her room.

aurelia only sighed, scraping her chair against the floor as she left her breakfast half finished. she excused herself to her room, rushing around to find the specific rings and earrings she had wanted to wear that day. the academy was strict on the uniforms of the students, only allowing approved jewellery and hairstyles by the dean himself. after many complaints from teachers of the plinth girl's disregard of the rule, her father had agreed to donate money to the academy if all of the teachers would look the other way. anything for his favourite child, sejanus had grumbled as he remembered how much money his father had had to bribe the dean with in order for him to let it slide.

the girl had always been both parents' openly favourite child since she was born, both having wanted a girl since they found out they were having another child. the day she was born was the day that sejanus felt he was sidelined in his parents' eyes. now, never would he say he was unloved by his parents; his ma always ensured the boy had everything he could ever want and their father would go out of his way to try and take interest in sejanus' hobbies. but he was never aurelia. he was never their perfect capitol-loving daughter who was friends with the children of the highest elites in society.

aurelia smiled as she stared in the mirror, finally ready and with a few minutes to spare for her to fuss over her ginger cat, leo, who was stretching himself across the white sheets of her bed. the cat had been brought with them from two, the only part of her past life that aurelia refused to part with. she'd found the kitten malnourished and on death's door during a particularly cold winter's evening when she was fetching some bread and pastries from the bakery for her ma. she'd sacrificed the loaf of bread to the poor creature and carried him back home inside her fleeced jacket. ever since then the cat had become a staple of her life, never really being officially adopted by the family until they moved to the capitol and had to declare him as theirs to pass through the border.

"aurelia! you're brother’s waiting for you by the door. are you ready?" she flinched as her mother shouted up the stairs, something she rarely did unless it was too early in the morning for her to have the effort to climb the stairs.

"yes, ma! i'm just coming!" aurelia gave leo one final scratch behind his ear before rushing down the marble stairs.

"please make sure your sister doesn't wander off again." strabo called to his son as he watched him collect his things by the door.

"that was one time, pa." aurelia pouted, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck.

"one time too many." strabo rolled his eyes at his daughter.

aurelia merely pouted, slinging her workbook bag over her shoulder and stuffing her feet into her new boots. sejanus didn't know why she'd even bought them, knowing full well that her old pair were in perfectly good condition and looked almost identical to the ones on her feet now.

"we'll see you for dinner, ma." sejanus waved goodbye to his parents, opening the door and letting the cold air hit him straight

"are you sure you can't just drive us, pa?" aurelia shivered, still not used to the colder winters in the capitol after nearly ten years of living there.

"sorry, kiddo. I've got a meeting in an hour that i can't miss." strabo gave the girl a kiss on the head, jokingly shoving her into her brother's back and slamming the door in her face as she turned with a shocked expression.

"I can't believe he just did that." aurelia pouted to her brother, an expression the boy was already getting tired of seeing that early in the morning. "it's way too cold to be walking, why can't pa just let us drive ourselves. we're old enough now, aren't we?"

"oh, quit complaining, lia. don't you remember having to walk everywhere back in two?" sejanus rolled his eyes, holding the girl's arm as they descended the steps of their front door.

"yeah, but it was never this cold back then. plus, we were kids, we'd just race each other to wherever we'd be going." she grinned to herself, remembering giggling as she chased her brother towards the town square each morning.

"yeah, and i'd always win cause you'd give up before we got there and then complain to ma that i cheated." sejanus chuckled, remembering the identical pout to what graced her face now whenever she'd tattle to their parents.

"cause you did!" aurelia rolled her eyes at her brother, quickening her pace as the cold was starting to get through her skirt and trousers.

"oh, please lia. being taller isn't cheating. i've just got the better genes." sejanus grinned smugly, catching his sister as she slipped on a bit of ice on the pavement. "see, i would've seen that ice coming."

"oh really?" aurelia raised her eyebrow teasing, pushing the boy into a pile of snow. "did you see that coming?"

"aurelia!" sejanus had a shocked expression on his face, scrambling to his feet and chasing the girl as she sped off down the road. "that's cheating!"

the pair felt like they were back in two as they chased one another down the street, pushing each other back and forth and sejanus pulling the smaller girl into a headlock.

"sej! sej, stop! my hair!" she whined, feeling the boy ruffling the hairs she'd purposefully pushed back. "i spent an hour pinning this all back this morning."

"oh quit whining, you'll live." sejanus rolled his eyes, letting the girl go nonetheless.

aurelia quickly smoothed down her hair, praying that the roughness of her brother's hands hadn't completely destroyed the girls she'd smoothed down that morning. she huffed another sighed as she spotted the mud stains that were splattered across the very front of her new boots.

"now i remember why i started getting the car in the mornings." aurelia grumbled, following her brother's actions in walking towards the main road that lead to the academy.

"why? too scared you'd lose every morning?" sejanus grinned down at her, enjoying being able to joke around with her for the first time in while.

"terrified you'd make me look district again with your wrestling every morning." aurelia huffed, smoothing out her jacket as they approached the main entrance of the academy.

"hey! don't you dare forget where we come from, aurelia plinth." sejanus roughly pulled the girl back by her arm, his eyes softening as he realised his actions. "you can't erase our past, lia."

"i might not be able to yet, but i can sure try." aurelia yanked her arm out of his grasp, climbing the final steps by herself.

aurelia plastered her most polite capitol smile onto her face as she entered through the doors, waving to anyone who would acknowledge her presence. she made sure to greet her fellow classmates that she passed, rushing up to grab the arm of her best friend as she spotted her about to enter their classroom.

"good morning, clemmie!" aurelia grinned at the girl, her first real smile since she'd entered the building.

"lia. surprised you weren't here already like you usually are." clemensia raised her eyebrow at the girl, her eyes flicking down to the mud that was slowly drying on her shoes. "did you walk here? daddy lose his money or something, can't afford a driver anymore."

"oh, hush." aurelia rolled her eyes, knowing the girl long enough to hear the joking behind her words. "our driver was sick this morning and arachne's family had already claimed our back up driver."

"oh, you poor thing. having to walk in the cold all by yourself." clemensia laughed as she saw the girl's eye roll once again.

"like you haven't had to walk to school once or twice in all your life." aurelia stopped at they reached her seat.

"hmmm. no, i can't think of any time i have." clemensia winked at the girl, waving goodbye as walked further down to her seat near the front.

having only just been passing the class last year, aurelia refused to sit anywhere but at the very back of the classroom. history had never been her best subject even back in two, having a hard time remembering dates of events of the names of all the generals and rebel leaders in the war. she didn't understand why she'd ever need to know the name of who lead the first raid of the capitol. he was dead now, as were all of the district sympathisers who'd betrayed their nation during the war.

she watched closely as her brother entered the room a few moments later, a familiar blonde walking stoically by his side. sejanus was talking animatedly at the boy who didn't seem to be reacting to a word he was saying. aurelia chuckled as her brother finally seemed to give up on the conversation and leave to his seat in front of her.

"done harassing coriolanus for the morning?" aurelia raised her eyebrow, fiddling with the pen in her hands.

"done annoying clemensia for the morning?" sejanus teased back at her, knowing the girl would've immediately flocked to her closest friend in the class once she'd entered the room.

"at least she's not my only friend."aurelia huffed, regretting her words as she watched her brother's face fall.

"whatever, lia." sejanus mumbled, turning back to the front of the room.

she felt terrible as she watched his shoulders slump forward, hoping no one had heard the siblings' conversation. the pair were still ostracized by most of their classmates since they'd moved from two, aurelia having lost most of her connections to the district that were obvious to them but still reminded of her roots daily by arachne and festus' teasing. the duo had made it their life's goal to ensure the girl never forgot that she was really capitol, that she was lower than them in all ranks of life. they reminded her daily that her family was only allowed to stay because they were liked for the heaps of money they threw into the capitol society.

the class passed slowly for the girl, her head feeling like it was going to explode as professor demigloss seemed to be reading through the final chapter of their workbook at light speed. she couldn't remember a single date or name he'd mentioned in the last fifteen minutes as she struggled to write down everything he was erasing from the blackboard. she knew she'd have to ask clemensia to see her notes before the end of the day so she could try and remember them before their end of term exams in a few weeks.

the class started packing up quickly as the bell rang signalling lunch, each ignoring demigloss' final words as he tried to remind everyone of the essay that was due at the end of the week. only one student seemed to be listening, as he hurriedly scribbled down everything the professor was saying as he too packed up his things to leave for lunch.

"miss plinth, a word please?" he called the blonde forward, drawing everyone left in the room's attention to the girl who had failed to escape the room quick enough.

"yes, professor?" aurelia looked around nervously, hoping no one would hear their conversation.

"i have your last exam's results here." demigloss picked up the stack of papers from the drawer in his desk. "and i have to say, i'm impressed. i didn't know anyone could get so much so wrong."

aurelia blushed in embarrassment, looking round the room and catching the sorry eyes of her brother at the door. she didn't know why the teacher was calling her out so harshly in front of the rest of the class, never having had trouble with the man before. she questioned whether it was due to her being originally from two, or the fact that she had been allowed to skip a whole year of the academy during her first semester.

"i think it would be best if you have a tutor leading up to your exams. i know you have high grades in the rest of your classes and i don't wish for this to lower your overall result." he nodded his head to someone behind the girl. "i've asked mr snow if he could tutor you after class to help get your grade up before the end of term."

"y-yes, professor. thank you. i'll try my hardest to get my grades up."aurelia looked down to the floor, not even looking the snow boy in the eye as she rushed to leave the classroom before anymore could be said to her.

she rushed down the corridor towards the canteen, hoping she'd make it before all of the food she'd eat were gone. she could feel her cheeks still burning read as she turned the corner, embarrassed beyond belief at being called out on her awful grade in front of nearly the entire class.

"plinth!" coriolanus huffed as he chased down the girl, annoyed that she'd left him alone with the professor he could barley stand. "slow down!"

aurelia ignored the boy, quickening her pace more as she finally reached the canteen and joined the back of the queue. there was a long line of students waiting to grab their own tray of food, each eagerly watching as more and more food seemed to be brought out for them to grab. this was one of the only parts of the capitol lifestyle that aurelia didn't agree with; their surplus of waste. she knew that by the end of the day, all of the leftover food would be thrown away and sent to the incinerators. the amount of food that she saw at the end of the lunch break be taken back into the kitchens could feed a family back in two for a month or more.

"you and your brother are the most frustrating people i've ever met." snow snapped as he caught up with the girl, dragging her out of line and towards a table where her brother was sat.

"hey! i was just about to get to the front." aurelia yanked her arm out of his grasp, pouting as she spotted the queue grow longer than when she'd first joined it.

"i don't care. i'm not the one failing and needing a tutor." coriolanus rolled his eyes, reaching into his bag and pulling out his history workbook. "i want these back by the end of the day."

"what?" aurelia raised her eyebrow at the boy, not taking the outstretched book from his hand.

"copy my notes and then give the book back to me." snow rolled his eyes.

"how is this tutoring me? i thought you were going to help me not just make me copy your work." aurelia rolled her eyes back at him, crossing her arms in a protest.

"fine, take it or don't. i don't care." coriolanus rolled his eyes, dropping the book onto the table and joining the back of the queue.

"what's his problem?" aurelia turned back to her brother, who had been watching the conversation the whole time.

"he's just being coriolanus." sejanus rolled his eyes, shoveling more food into his mouth.

aurelia pouted once again, not enjoying her brother not taking her side in the conflict. she turned back to the queue that had grown even longer, sighing as she knew there was no way she'd have enough time to wait in line and eat everything without making herself sick.

"you can have my fruit and salad." sejanus was already pushing the bowls towards his sister, knowing she was debating skipping lunch all together.

"sej, you need to eat something healthy as well." aurelia rolled her eyes, sitting down opposite him in front of the bowls anyways.

sejanus just shrugged his shoulders, "i'll just ask ma to make me a smoothie when we get home."

aurelia couldn't argue with the compromise, tucking in to her small portion of food. the duo sat mostly in silence as they at either food, only talking every so often about the homework for their following class. their silence was interrupted as coriolanus ungracefully sat down beside the girl and immediately began ripping into the small roll on his tray.

aurelia watched the blonde out of the corner of her eye as he ripped the bread into small pieces then shoved multiple into his mouth at once, barely chewing before swallowing his food and moving onto the next bit of food. she didn't know why the boy was acting so animalistically with his food, only ever having seen someone eat that way back during the dark days in two.

"i'm done eating if either of you want the rest of my fruit." aurelia pushed the half eaten bowl towards the center of the table.

"you sure, lia? you've barely eaten anything." sejanus looked concerned as the girl reached for the untouched workbook still on the table.

she only nodded her head, hoping that her brother wouldn't ask anymore questions. she watched as a hand slowly inched its way towards the bowl, silently dragging it back towards themselves. coriolanus felt ashamed as the girl's eyes locked on him in his attempt at sneakily taking the food. he knew she'd make a comment, question why the supposedly rich boy was going for other's seconds. but the girl did no such thing, she simply smiled at him and turned her head back towards the open workbook.

aurelia didn't speak a word to the boys for the rest of the lunch break, quietly copying down coriolanus' notes into her own workbook. his handwriting was some of the neatest she'd ever seen, rivaling even that of her ma who'd boasted about being one of the few in her hometown growing up who was able to read and write in cursive. the boys were conversing above the girl, completely ignoring her presence as though she wasn't there. she didn't catch a word of what they were talking about until she reached the last page of coriolanus' notes.

"if i hear one more person offer me money or anything else to get in favour with my father for that prize i'm going to lose my shit." sejanus huffed, slamming his fork down on his tray.

"sej!" aurelia gasped, not used to her brother using such barbaric language.

"i'm sorry, lia but i'm just sick of it." he rolled his eyes, standing to clear away his tray.

aurelia followed him with her eyes, worried about what sorts of illicit things he'd been offered in exchange for putting a good word in with their father.

"you shouldn't worry too much about him. no one here would ever actually do anything to him like that." coriolanus spoke up from beside the girl, his tray completely empty of any traces of food. "they all know what your daddy could do if they tried anything."

"leave my father out of this." aurelia snapped, quick to defend the man she looked up to.

"just stating the truth." he mumbled, stopping from teasing the girl any further as sejanus returned to the table.

"i'm sorry, lia. i didn't mean to snap at you." sejanus sighed, giving his sister his signature puppy dog eyes and sorry smile he'd use on their ma to get out of trouble.

"whatever." aurelia rolled her eyes, picking up her workbook and passing coriolanus' back to him. "thanks for the tutoring session, was so helpful."

coriolanus caught the sarcasm behind her words, smirking as he watched her huff to herself and pack up her bag. the bell rung faster than he'd expected, the trio packed their bags up and moved towards the door to the canteen. aurelia walked faster ahead of the boys, hoping to make it to their next lesson before her favourite spot in the classroom was taken once again by arachne.

"you can come round tonight and actually tutor her. she's too proud to actually ask for anymore help." sejanus didn't turn his head as he spoke, continuing to watch as his sister got further and further away.

"i don't want to intrude on her plans." coriolanus too watched the girl, intrigued by her haste in leaving the duo.

"it's a thursday, she usually spends this evening studying anyways." sejanus shrugged, hoping the boy would hear the silent plead in his voice.

"i'll ask aurelia what she thinks after class." coriolanus sped off before sejanus could argue any further, almost catching up to the plinth girl before she entered the classroom.

he was intrigued in the girl in a way he never had been before, having only really interacted with her in relation to her brother. their conversations had been limited to the occasional small talk at gala events for the academy or whenever her brother had left them alone.

aurelia could feel's eyes in the back of her head watching her, knowing full well that her brother was still trying to apologise for his words from before. she didn't turn back towards the boy, giving him the cold shoulder and sitting herself down in her seat at the back of the classroom that had, thankfully, not been taken by arachne yet.

the class seemed to drag for the plinth girl, her mind completely throwing out all of the information that professor click was throwing at her. the end of the day couldn't come soon enough, her body aching to fall straight into the comfort of her bed. she looked forward to the warmth that their chef's cooking would bring her and the relief a nice relaxing bath would give her.

"lia, let's go. the car is waiting for us." sejanus stood in front of her desk, his bag over his shoulder and her own held in his hand.

"let me just speak with clemmie quickly." aurelia smiled at her brother, grabbing her bag off of him and flagging down her friend.

"aurelia, how can i help you?" clemensia smiled at the girl, looping their arms together.

"do you wanna come round tonight and study? i'm thinking we could help each other with that essay for demigloss." aurelia smiled hopefully at the girl.

"i can't tonight. mother is making me restart my etiquette classes before the term ends." clemensia rolled her eyes. "apparently young ladies shouldn't slouch and it's a travesty to her that i slouch when i'm tired."

"god, i'm glad i don't have your mother. she'd kill me if she saw my posture at the dinner table." aurelia laughed with the girl, remembering being scolded by mrs dovecote once for laughing too loudly at a gala.

"aurelia!" a voice cut of the girls' laughter, alerting the pair to the approaching duo.

"what do you want, coriolanus? here to steal my best friend?" clemensia rolled her eyes, pulling the girl closer to her side.

"sejanus said you were studying tonight, i can come by and help tutor you?" coriolanus ignored the teasing of the dovecote girl, his eyes not moving from aurelia's.

"i'll be okay. i got your notes from class earlier, i should be fine to study with those." aurelia's confidence dimmed slightly as she spoke of her struggles with the class.

"lia, just let him help. stop being stubborn." sejanus tried to convince his sister, knowing only he could sway her opinion on anything.

"fine, whatever." she rolled her eyes, turning her back to the boys and leading clemensia out of the building.

"so, study date with snow." clemensia gave the girl a knowing smirk.

"first it is not a date, and second, take that stupid grin off of your face." aurelia pushed her friend away, crossing her arms as she continued to tease her.

"lia, you know what his reputation is. what are the chances little miss perfect plinth isn't so perfect after tonight." clemensia grinned at the blush already crossing her friend’s face.

"clemensia! you can't say things like that!" aurelia gasped, hoping no one had heard the girl's crass words.

"it's not like i'm lying. you've heard the stories of him and that girl behind the train station." clemensia watched as the plinth girl's cheeks grew redder by the second. "jesus, lia. if i didn't know any better i'd think you were the one i was talking about."

aurelia simply rolled her eyes, spotting the family car parked in front of the main gates of the academy. she waved at syrus who was sat in the front seat, their father obviously having fought hard for the driver to take the two plinths home. clemensia gave her a light hug and waved her off as she walked towards her own car.

"oi! hurry up before i make you two walk!" aurelia called out to the boys, slamming the door shut and laughing as she watched the pair speed up almost into a run towards the car.

the pair scrambled for the door, coriolanus being bold and taking the seat beside aurelia and leaving sejanus to sit opposite the pair. the blonde girl sat stiffly beside him, not daring to move in case she accidentally brushed him with her body, clemensia's words of his reputation still floating in her mind. she remained still for the remainder of the journey, her eyes watching the barren trees pass by quickly.

to say the car ride was the most awkward situation that aurelia could remember would be a lie, as the second the pair were left alone in the family's living room, she could feel herself wanting to make any excuse possible to leave. coriolanus seemed to be feeling the same way as he sat completely still on the pristine sofa, not daring to move in fear of ruining the placement of the cushions that their maids had organised whilst the family were gone.

"i-i'm going to see if my ma needs any help in the kitchen." aurelia stood quickly, rushing to reach the safety of the kitchen.

"aurelia, dear. you didn't mention you were having a friend over." mrs plinth smiled knowingly at her daughter, struggling to reach something on the top shelf.

"ma, it's not like that. coriolanus is just helping me study for our exams." aurelia rolled her eyes, grabbing the cookie jar for her and setting it on the side.

"i remember your father and i having many study dates before we began dating." she grinned as her daughter's face grew red.

"he's just helping me study, ma. it's not a date." aurelia whispered, not wanting the snow boy to hear them from the living room.

"whatever you say, sweetheart." she patted her daughter on the cheek, passing by her with the tray of food and drinks she'd prepared when she saw aurelia was having someone over. "i hope you're not too hungry, coriolanus. our cook won't be back for about an hour so this is all i have to offer."

"no worries, mrs plinth. i'm sure my cook will have something ready for when i return home." coriolanus smiled at the older lady, turning back to his open workbook with a hope that she'd leave the pair alone.

"of course, i'll leave you two to it then." she sent her daughter a wink as she exited the room, closing the door almost fully.

aurelia rolled her eyes at her ma's antics, knowing she was obsessed with trying to set her daughter up with as many of the 'eligible young men' as she called them in high society as possible. she couldn't remember how many blind dates she'd been set up on in the last year since she'd turned sixteen, her parents finally agreeing that it was time for the girl to start looking for a husband. why this courtesy didn't extend to sejanus as well, the girl could not say.

"so, do you want to start on post war history or the formation of panem?" coriolanus turned to the girl, pausing as he saw the blush covering her face. "everything okay,aurelia?"

"yes, just a little warm is all."aurelia smiled nervously, taking a sip of the cold lemonade her mother had brought out for the pair. "let's start with the formation for now then work our way through the war."

coriolanus nodded suspiciously, staring at the snow that was beginning to settle out the window and the plinth's lack of a fireplace running. the girl was obviously lying, he just couldn't figure out why. the pair worked quickly through the notes that he had taken during class, quizzing the girl every so often to test her memory. as they got closer to the end of coriolanus' notes, the boy realised she wasn't struggling as much as he assumed she would've been had she really needed tutoring.

"i don't know why demigloss made me tutor you. you're fine." coriolanus shrugged, taking the last cookie from the plate.

"i just can never seem to remember the dates of things. facts or detailed descriptions of what happened during the war or why the war even began i can do. but i just can't name anyone who was there or when it happened." aurelia pouted, deepening it when she realised all of the cookies were gone.

"we'll figure something out next time to get you to remember them." coriolanus huffed, pulling his bag closer to him so that he could start packing away his things.

"next time?" aurelia raised her eyebrows. "wasn't this just a one time thing? to help me with the topics i struggled with in the last essay."

"demigloss made it very clear that this wasn't the only topic you were struggling with. he said you couldn't even remember the date the original americas were founded." coriolanus smirked at the girl, having clearly caught her off guard with his knowledge of her grades.

"he shouldn't be sharing such personal details with other students." she pouted, sulking back into the once neat cushions.

coriolanus scoffed at her disregard for the tidiness and organisation that had been put into the room, knowing the family's maids would be in once they left the room to puff them back up to the original shape. he felt the feeling of resentment growing in his stomach as his eyes roam the room, spotting the vast amount of expensive looking trinkets littering almost every surface of the room. they were flaunting their undeserved wealth for him, showing what he could've had, what he should have.

"ma said dinner will be ready in ten if you want to stay, coriolanus?" sejanus entered the room, disrupting the snow's spiral of hate.

"i should be okay, don't want to leave tigris worrying of where i am." coriolanus smiled nervously, hoping to any gods there were that the boy would be his usual amount of stubborn and make him stay.

"if you insist." sejanus shrugged, walking back out of the room.

coriolanus cursed the boy for actually having a back bone for once and not begging the boy to stay over. his hope turned to the boy's sister, praying she would offer him to stay over as a thanks for his tutoring.

"ma will probably want a hand laying the table. will you be okay seeing yourself out?" aurelia turned to the boy, seeing the sad look in his eyes disappear as he felt her eyes on him.

"yes. i should be going. don't want to leave my grandma'am waiting." coriolanus smiled stiffly, standing slowly from the sofa.

"grandma'am?" aurelia chuckled, finding the nickname he used for his grandmother cute.

"y-yes." coriolanus felt his cheeks blushing. "tigris couldn't quite say grandma as a toddler and it just stuck."

"it's cute. makes me question those rumours about you." aurelia winked, standing to leave the room.

"what rumours?" coriolanus' small smile dropped, following the girl as she walked towards where her mother was helping cook dinner.

"oh, nothing. just some things i've heard here and there." aurelia shrugged, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen. "i'll see you tomorrow. thanks again for the tutoring session."

"you're welcome, aurelia." coriolanus smiled, the rehearsed smile he used for public appearances.

"oh, coriolanus. i'm glad I caught you before you left. cook made a few too many portions and i knew you weren't staying for dinner, so." mrs plinth rushed from the kitchen, a basket full of food in her arms. "i wrapped up some food for you to take back to tigris and your grandmother. i can't thank you enough for helping out our dear aurelia."

"ma." aurelia groaned, leaning into the wall out of embarrassment.

"oh, mrs plinth you didn't have to do that." coriolanus grabbed the basket nonetheless, his eyes betraying the nonchalance he was trying to give off.

"oh, it's nothing, dear." she waved the boy, bustling back into the kitchen to grab the silverware.

"i'll walk you to the door." aurelia smiled at the boy, holding the basket for him as he slipped on his shoes and academy jacket. "thanks again for tutoring me, really."

"no problem, goldie." he smiled, taking the basket back without thinking of the nickname he'd given her.

"goldie?" she raised her eyebrow at the new nickname.

"w-well, i've heard clemensia and sejanus call you lia, so i just thought it'd be nice to have something different." coriolanus shrugged, looking down bashful. "i-i'm sorry. i should've asked before just deciding that was your nickname."

"n-no, it's okay. i like it." aurelia looked down, a matching blush colouring her cheeks.

"i'll see you tomorrow then, goldie." coriolanus' smile grew cheekier as he spotted the rouge on her cheeks, waving as he stepped out the front door.

"see you tomorrow, coriolanus." aurelia waved back, closing the door once she saw he'd made it safely down their icy steps.

"he seems nice." ma made her jump as she snuck up behind her. "should i start chaperoning your 'study sessions' from now on?"

"ma! i told you it's not like that." aurelia crossed her arms across her chest embarrassed, grabbing the silverware from her ma's grasp.

"mmhmm. i told your grandmother the exact same thing and look where i am now. i can just see it now, coriolanus and aurelia snow." she sighed dramatically, only half joking to tease her daughter.

"ma!" aurelia blushed a colour her mother didn't even know a person could go, laughing as she watched her storm into the dining room to set the table.

[she-is-ovarit]

I am on government insurance (Medicaid). Out of pocket, my psychologist's rate is $225 an hour. He went through a decade or more of school, obtained a PhD, and graduated with student loan debt. He didn't state how much, but I can imagine it's likely in the hundreds of thousands considering he still has this debt and graduated with his PhD in the early 2000s.

He shared with me that out of that $225 rate, he obtains about $25 from one Medicaid client's insurance company. The insurance company pockets the rest. My friend, another therapist, has a similar story. She makes $75 off of Medicaid clients usually when her rate out of pocket is $200.

Most therapists, psychologists, and psychiatrists are no longer accepting Medicaid/Medicare insurances because of this reason, which people who are poor are on. Over half of mental health professionals are no longer accepting insurance, period. I think we all understand that low-income people and low-income communities struggle the most with mental health issues, and if you are a person of color in the US you are more likely to be low-income. If you are a domestic violence survivor turned homeless because you left your significant other, you are also more likely to be on Medicaid. If you are a first generation student, you are most likely on Medicaid. If you are formerly incarcerated, you are most likely on Medicaid. And so on.

Additionally, if you are a human being of the female sex, you are far more likely to seek out therapy than someone of the male sex. Overwhelmingly men don't seek out therapy unless their female significant partner pleads with them, pressures them, or gives them an ultimatum which influences them to make an appointment. What does this mean when the vast majority of mass shooters, rapists, pedophiles, and domestic violence abusers are male?

Figure 2. Percentage of adults aged 18 and over who had received any mental health treatment, taken medication for their mental health, or received counseling or therapy from a mental health professional in the past 12 months, by sex: United States, 2019

Pair all of these details with the fact that mental health professionals are in such high demand right now, that even with private insurance the wait list is anywhere from three to six months out. Insurance agencies are business, and the corruption inherent. Many focus on prioritizing coverage for acute crisis rather than treating long term underlying conditions (which in turn prevents acute crises), don't provide coverage for co-occurring conditions, are advertising that more providers are accepting their insurance than there actually are, and are solely driven by financial interest.

I wonder how much domestic violence, sexual violence, child abuse, poverty, hate crimes, generational trauma, and overall suffering within individuals and in their societies can be reduced by valuing mental health and holding insurance companies accountable for their financial exploitation.

We talk about the US healthcare crisis without talking about the US mental health crisis.