#american schools dubai

[iasdubai]

Secure A Place Or Your Child At Our American Curriculum School in Dubai

As a leading American curriculum school in Dubai, we are dedicated to nurturing students to excel academically and socially. Our curriculum is designed to prepare students for a bright future, emphasizing critical thinking, creativity, and a well-rounded education. Explore our American Curriculum to see how we equip students for success.

https://ias-dubai.ae/en/admission-overview

[nightguide]

take disability out of Hollywood and you have your rights to live, establish that out of socialism and you've taken down the neo-american aristrocracy forever, like that was jail-baiting success from average neon light fluidity of human being.

Family Guy would easily get cancelled if they put Keanu Reeves rights to lie on screen but it's your daily joke that nobody will ever get, but it's only the beginning

[dubaiias]

High-Quality American Curriculum Education with an Affordable Fees: AIS 

Join the AISD family and set your child on the path to success! Don't miss out on this opportunity to provide your child with a top-notch American curriculum education.AISD stands among the best American schools in Dubai, thanks to our dedicated educators, cutting-edge facilities, and a curriculum that fosters critical thinking, creativity, and global citizenship.

[aarizspace]

Looking for American Curriculum School in Dubai? Dubai International School Al - Quoz is an outstanding educational institution located in the vibrant city of Dubai. Established with a vision to nurture young minds and foster holistic development, the school has earned a reputation for academic excellence and comprehensive student growth.

[mr-magdy]

Teacher job in Dubai

Teacher job in Dubai

Teacher position to teach American Moral Education. Teacher job – Jobs in Dubai School of Modern Skills (SMS), is currently seeking energetic, enthusiastic, and dedicated personnel for the Middle School Moral Education Teacher position to teach American Moral Education. The successful candidate should have: Minimum two (2) years of experience as a Middle School Moral Education Teacher with…

[naischool]

Elementary Schools In Dubai Make Your Child Shine

Secondary schools are an important stepping stone in a child’s educational journey. They provide the foundation for further education and skills development and lay the groundwork for success in tertiary education and beyond. American schools in Dubai offer a high level of education that enables students to develop their intellectual and cultural potential.

[educationinuae]

Difference between the American curriculum and the British curriculum

British curriculum

The British curriculum schools in Dubai start with the Early Years Foundation Stage (EYFS) framework. EYFS gives a holistic framework of milestones and benchmarks where children learn through progressive stages. When students get into upper grades education learners take in areas they want to focus on with the General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) or International General Certificate of Secondary Education (IGCSE) if outside countries of the United Kingdom. The GCSE is the foremost school-leaving certificate in England, Wales, and Northern Ireland (Scotland has an unconventional national qualifications system). GCSEs are available in around 50 subjects and are usually preceded by full-time five-semester courses. GCSE exams are conducted in May/June when students are in Grade 11 (Year 11) and their results are issued in August. The IGCSE is an internationally accepted exam at the same level as the GCSE. It aims to acquire a broader approach to learning. Schools may offer any combination of subjects for which each student gains a separate certificate. There are over 70 subjects, including over 30 language courses, offering a diversity of options for students with a wide range of capacities, including those whose first language is not English. The A-Level diploma was initiated in Great Britain in 1951, and its objective is to educate the best candidates for leading universities. The A-Levels are chosen between the ages of 16 and 18 and are much harder than the GCSEs. They can’t be chosen without passing GCSEs in similar subjects. If you want to go to university, you have to choose both exams.

American curriculum

American curriculum school in Dubai prepare general subjects until the end of high school, which is Grade 12, the UK equivalent of Year 13. Most children take part in preschool part-time, but state-provided education does not start until Kindergarten (Year 1 in the UK). The American curriculum is divided into three levels namely primary school (K- Grade 5), intermediate school (Grades 6-8), and high school (Grades 9-12). At the finishing of high school, students register for college education based on several elements: their grades in all four years of high school (Grade Point Average), effects from various exams, teachers’ opinions, personal achievements, and after-school activities. The SAT (Scholastic Aptitude Test) is a standardized test that is enormously used for college admissions. The motive of the SAT is to measure a high school student’s preparedness for college and provide colleges with one common data point that can be used to analyze all applicants. AP (Advanced Placement) allows high school students to take college-level courses. American colleges and universities may grant placement and course credit to students who achieve high scores on the examinations.

The British secondary curriculum mainly focuses on the GCSE subject exams and the A-Levels. But in the United States school system, the students have more freedom to choose. They pursue the SAT and ACT and the only genuine standardized tests students take at a national level.

[johnbrand]

The Stages of Arabization

With @next-pharaoh

“Jeez, it’s so bright here,” Henry oriented his phone up in front of the sun, hoping to block out a few of the direct rays.

“Well, you are closer to the equator,” his boyfriend, Alex, joked. “Dubai is a bit farther south than Boston.”

Henry rolled his eyes, “What would I do without that intelligence of yours?” 

“Too bad you don’t have your own.” They both laughed at that remark. The pair had started dating in graduate school, with Alex venturing down the path of mathematics and Henry following the racial trends of Sub-Saharan Africa. Everyone joked it should have been the other way around, given Henry’s geeky, pale exterior fit the math nerd stereotype better than Alex’s lanky, darker frame. But Henry loved his studies, so much so that he had been invited to a conference in the United Arab Emirates to talk on them.

Suddenly, Henry received an email notification from one of his sponsors. “Dang, looks like I have to get back to work. Just received an essay to review before the next presentation.”

“How long do you have?”

“Barely 30 minutes.”

“Well forward it to me,” Alex replied. “We can tag team it. I know this isn’t my strong suit but at least I can help cover more ground.”

Henry thought that was a great idea. Without a second thought, he redirected the email and wished his boyfriend goodbye. Alex would send his thoughts over text when he had finished.

“‘The Stages of Arabization’,” Henry recited aloud. He was planning to head inside to read–gingers burnt way too easily in the direct sunlight–but he noticed the writing was pretty short. Barely even a page. Henry was surprised to realize the essay was in Arabic, but he quickly utilized a translator app to resolve the issue.

Stage 1: Islamization  Islam becomes the majority religion or state religion.

Strange formatting, but Henry understood the statement as rather truthful. The historically successful Arabizations of Morocco, Algeria, and Egypt had followed a similar suit. Even some of the countries he had studied had shown signs of this progression.

Stage 2: Linguistic Arabization Islam brings fixation on Arabic language, thus the Arabic language becomes central to the society's identity. Arabic becomes the state language.

Henry found this statement agreeable as well. There was something so methodical about the Arabic language, how it melodically ebbed and flowed in such a way that it twirled through the hearing canals directly into the brain. Anyone who listened to it almost became entranced, as if captured by its beauty and awakened by its fluidity. Henry closed the translator app before continuing on. 

Stage 3: Cultural Arabization Arab cultural practices become common due to Islamization. Own cultural heritage is deemed closer to ages of ignorance and thus gradually forgotten and replaced with Islam.

Henry had followed this trend through his research. Many of the countries he had analyzed over the years had demonized their traditional practices once introduced to Islamic culture. It was like watching a child being given a new toy; the original quickly discarded for one deemed far more superior. These assimilations had even started to appear in Henry’s life. Thobes were the new fashion craze among his fellow researchers, midday prayer rooms had taken over labs, and even the cafeteria had become completely halal.

Stage 4: Ethnic Arabization Planned migration of many Arab tribes and deliberate suppression of the numbers of natives, consequently major demographic shift. Media encourages Arabs to multiply and mix.

This too had arrived in the workplace. Rapidly, it had become obvious that the university was prioritizing hiring Arab and Arab-American employees. Political discourse on abortion had suddenly disappeared, instead dropping birth control from medical insurances and advertising “Reversion Through Fertilization”. Luckily, Hussein had not been influenced much by this change. In fact, he almost felt as if he was somehow a part of it.

Stage 5: Fully Arab State Arabs and the Arabized become elite and majority. Non-Arabized are shunned and pressured to revert until no opposition remains.

Hussein smiled with pride, closing the essay he was sure to give high remarks to. His best friend Ali had a similar response, a text from him glowing with praise about the truth in the writer’s words. The essay was eloquent, thought-provoking, and would become mandatory literature at his lab, and soon throughout the reverting world. It reflected the future, similarly to his own phone screen: masculine, virile Arab men. Hussein felt a divine sense of conformity with Islam, one all were soon destined to see.

[thatbitchery]

So yesterday I said it's not the principle of the thing that matters but how much privilege you have to balance it that does and had everyone and their mom needing me to learn feminism and equality 101, as expected. Understandable. I understand not knowing better because you haven't learned better and that is exactly why I'm here. To teach you better.

Let's start with the lie that's egalitarianism and equality. What we call the American mindset. Everyone is equal and has an opinion and should be able to do whatever they want mentality. Reason you have little boys and girls that have never walked a fashion show or even at the very least being invited to one making videos comment on couture shows and how ugly and impractical it is. Why you have little college girls and boys running every word they know past things that they have never even had access to. The I have a right to opinion and I will give it. That mindset, we call it the American mindset because it's mostly where you'd see it. See that mindset? If you want to level up, forget it. You do not have a right to your opinion the right is given to you. You do not have the right to wear what you want that right is earned. You do not have the right to go to that party even if you were invited you earn the right to be there. You don't have a seat in every table you want , it's given to you.

It's girls out there getting in trouble over this mentality. I told y'all once a story (probably deleted it haha) of how in high school the rich kids threw a party and invited the poorer kids around town just to do drugs together and 🍇 grape the girls and only the poor girls were graped 🍇 and never got justice because what judge is convicting the Prime Minister's son? And only the poor boys went to jail and took a fall for the drugs?? Whyyyy??? Because they thought people are equal and so they, middle class working in the gas station for pocket money, should just easily be invited to an elite party. No I didn't go. Why? Because the deal was too good. Why would the rich kids that barely talk to me in school suddenly want me to party with them? This isn't a table that I've earned a seat in so why would I go sit in it?? Doing crimes under peer pressure with people that have a team of lawyers is something people with that dumb everyone is equal mindset shit does. If I told those kids not to go they'd think I'm gatekeeping my useless academically dumb rich friends,no. I had a girl ask me why I'm looking down on her because I told her it makes no sense for boys with a bunch of Aston Martins and Bentleys and access to world class professional escorts and dating the children of presidents to date them . I had a girl tell me I'm not a girls girl and an anti feminist because I told her that boy is dating her for the giggles and will show her a hell she has never seen before and get away with it. Do I not think she's worth it? Lovable? People are equal!!! But they're not are they?? Boys like that don't date little girls from public school do they?? And no buying you Versace isn't special that's his pocket change. And every single Chanel bag you get you will pay for ,dearly. But people are equal mentality girlie probably needs a lifetime of therapy, for everyone's mental health and sanity just in case you slip into the misandry dark hole I won't say what happened. There were videos it's all I'll say. Of Dubai camel type stuff. If you get it you get it. If you don't may our good Lord protect your innocence for as long as He can. The world is a dark place in general but 50× darker for women, 1000× darker for women that don't fit the standards and 1000000× darker for broke girls and then there's women of✨ color ✨.

There's a social hierarchy. Know your place in it, act like it and level up in the background.

Different people have different rules. Just because Bella Hadid can wear weird looking outfits doesn't mean you can??? Are you Bella Hadid?? First rise to Bella Hadid status then you can have Bella Hadid privileges. Society rules are not the same for everyone. Do you think anyone cares what Bill Gates daughter is wearing to the office?? Do you think that applies to you?? I almost had my Captainship almost taken from me in high school because I wore a bracelet and that wasn't appropriate while my classmates ran around with chanel pins and pearl necklaces and hairpins with bows and glitter. Why? Is my dad's name on a building?? Did my dad donate millions to the school? Am I the next CEO of a multimillion dollar enterprise?? Then why would I have the same privileges?? The rules say no accessories so no accessories. Little white girls wear 15979 kgs of make up with tattoos and piercings nd drive everywhere but if I had one, one nose ring I'll get pulled over in traffic and possibly have my visa revoked. I wore red lipstick once and my boss said I'm looking at them aggressively. This one time I let my natural hair down during church and someone's grandma in pearls just diDnT KnoW wHat WaS OfF aBouT mE tHaT dAy but anyway she loved me so much so she'd send me to her hairstylist for free because she cares about me :))) while her grandkid had braids with a purple streak 👍.Different rules for different people. Yesterday I said I have to compensate for my lack of privileges and someones very well meaning daughter with what has to be a clean heart wrote me an essay on how I don't have to change myself to fit in. Oh darling. My sweet sweet thing .

Its little girls out dressing the host in a party that was thrown for the host to show off because tHeY dOnT hAvE tO dReSs dOwN tO aCcOmodAte OtHeRs and making an enemy and never getting invited again out here. It's girls that argue with their bosses on something as stupid as social politics that will never be promoted ever and have their work picked apart like a terrorism investigation while their bubblehead yes girl counterparts are promoted left right center. It's girls arguing with their mothers knowing full well they're dependent on them because It wAs ThEiR cHoiCe TO haVe Me BLA BLA BLA bs. It's girls out there having a full on feminist debate with the pedo misogynistic CEO in the event that was created to appease said CEO like is he a feminist now?? Did you change his mind?? Is he a better man or did you just burn your network with every single person in that room? If you don't have the privilege to do it don't. Rights are backed by privileges.

Once upon a time in a far far away land I told a tumblrina she wasn't pretty enough to have the boundaries she wanted to have and that having boundaries is a privilege and she should first level up her looks then she can have that boundary and woke up to a 5996909800 word essay on how I'm an anti feminist and judgy and whatever else. Sighs .ladies won't you ever learn. Yes even boundaries require a certain privilege.

When I say it's an American mindset and my US girls feel attacked I get it because thats exactly what I'm doing, attacking you. If I tell African and Asian girls they need to appease their toxic moms they don't argue because we know. If mom says that dress makes you look like a slut I don't say mom omg that's not very girls girl of you you're being toxic I take it off and say you think so? There was something about it I didn't like haha and wear something she approves of. Why because she holds the power. As long as I live in her house I have to submit to her. It's just a dress. We placate and validate our moms and dads and elders knowing theyre toxic af simply because we know we won't win. They won't suddenly realize they were wrong they will just make our lives harder and we can't fight back we just talk crap about them in school and laugh and when we leave for uni wear whatever. Because if we fight back they'll never let us go for uni away from home and we depend on them for survival. We understand ✨ hierarchy ✨. It's Megan Markle and her American Mindset of I have rights I have opinions I should be treated well thinking she can challenge an institution that has been in power for centuries and has made a country as geographically small and pitiful as Britan a world power over larger ones, and for centuries. Princess Katherine was being torn apart by tabloids for a decade plus and held it together and is now set to be the next queen of England with her daughter being the richest kid alive. Lady Emma McQinston, a Nigerian among the British upper class- I won't even bother telling you how those ones get treated - held it for her whole life and is now the first dark skinned black African Baroness (is it baroness?? Not sure). Megan and her American values folded in what, months?? Did they tear her apart as viciously as they did Kate?? Nope. Fumbled that bag because she couldn't understand privilege, hierarchy and power.

Don't be a Megan. Don't. Get with the program. To get the power, you must first understand the power.

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[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Part of the Team

Plot: On her first day working for KJPR, Y/n tours AFC Richmond’s facility and meets some of the staff.

Warnings: language, use of f!reader, (16+)

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, first off, thank you for the lovely response! I certainly didn’t endeavor to write anything for Ted Lasso (I was actually going to take a writing break) but this idea seemed good enough to indulge.

This has been added to the taglist in my bio, so don’t be afraid to click it and add yourself. It will be kept 16+ just for language and the show’s subject matter so I won’t be adding anyone unless your age/range is specified in your bio.

All that being said, I hope this nurses a little bit of your finale hangover. No Greyhounds to be found in this chapter, but a wild Ted does appear. Writing for him is going to be a hilarious exercise for me lol. Enjoy!!

—————————

Wanting to be prepared, Y/n had started doing research on AFC Richmond the morning after accepting Keeley’s job offer.

The slight buzz she’d managed at the bar had blocked from her memory that she knew more about Rebecca Welton than she thought. Years before, she’d seen her face splashed across all the tabloids at news stands and markets talking about her divorce from…for the life of her, Y/n couldn’t remember the man’s name. All she remembered is there’d been perfect pictures of him and his various models of the months, while the cameras always managed to catch Rebecca with a sour look on her face. Y/n remembered feeling like she could read the whole situation without without ever perusing a filthy word.

As she studied, Y/n put together that Richmond consisted of three coaches. The manager, Ted Lasso, was a name the whole country knew, regardless of whether you watched football or not. It wasn’t Y/n’s place to judge, but she assumed if he was still around, there was a reason. He’d brought along an assistant coach from the states with him, along with Roy Kent joining their staff the previous season. Another name she didn’t need to bother to learn as it was already burned in every Brit’s brain. There also seemed to be a scandal with a previous coach, Nathan Shelley, having abandoned Richmond for West Ham United as Richmond reentered the Premier League.

Having gone to school in London and staying after, Y/n had gone to plenty of football matches with friends. Much like American sports, she’d never been as interested as those surrounding her, but she enjoyed the atmosphere. However, she pulled up highlights of old Richmond matches on Youtube and studied them to try and get a feel for the players. Two in particular stood out to her.

Sam Obisanya caught her attention for his raw talent, the graceful way he managed to move in such a brutal sport. She’d also seen the way he handled himself in press conferences, always soft and well spoken. He’d been fearless in his defense of Nigeria, his home country, and against Dubai Air and Cerithium Oil. She had mad respect for him and his bravery.

Then there was Jamie Tartt. Going through videos of his stints at Richmond left Y/n puzzled. He seemed to have started out the cocky striker, too busy kissing his own foot to realize there were twenty more on the pitch waiting to shine. He never passed. He never assisted. It was all him. But then, after his swift departure and return to the team, his playing style shifted. Suddenly, he did pass. He did assist. A few months difference and it was practically night and day.

Y/n sighed as she shut her laptop, having just finished the video of him letting Dani Rojas take the penalty goal that secured Richmond’s return to the Premier League. She hoped Jamie Tartt, and all other Greyhounds, wouldn’t be a PR headache.

The night before she officially started at KJPR, Y/n found herself nervous. It seemed like too ideal of a situation to meet someone at a bar and be offered a job right after losing yours. She felt hesitant to trust that when she walked into Keeley’s office, she wouldn’t find a complete nightmare. She went to sleep with a clenched jaw and stiff shoulders, praying that this wouldn’t be another loss to face.

—————————

Y/n pulled up to the KJPR office building at 8:55. She adjusted her carefully ironed pants, smoothed down her blouse and blazer and took a deep breath. Her capabilities were the one place her insecurities had no place living. She was good at what she did, she just needed a place to do it.

When the elevator doors opened, she was surprised to find a small office with multiple occupied desks set up. Keeley had made it sound much smaller than it actually was.

“Y/n!”

A familiar voice exclaimed and Y/n peered across the room to see Keeley rushing out from behind her desk and bursting out her office door.

“I’m so glad you showed,” she grinned as she scurried to Y/n and took hold of her hands.

“You offered me a job and you thought I wasn’t going to show up?” Y/n asked with a confused chuckle.

“I mean, to be fair, I offered it to you in a restaurant after, like, a glass and a half of wine,” Keeley replied, “I’m not sure I’d have believed me either.”

Y/n laughed a little, very aware that all her fellow employees were not only watching the unprofessional display, but hearing the story of her even more unprofessional hiring.

“Should we…” Y/n gestured towards Keeley’s office.

“Oh, right,” Keeley practically shouted, leading Y/n back and through the door.

True to the little Y/n knew about the woman, Keeley’s office was head to toe…Keeley. Pink everything, floral patterns, a ceramic jungle cat in the corner…it was, most definitely, the most unique of any boss’s office Y/n had ever entered.

“Right,” Keeley said as she took a seat on the couch in the corner, leaving a spot for Y/n, “Let’s get to it.”

Y/n settled onto the couch, leaving a fair amount of space that Keeley immediately cut in half.

“So I know you said that you’ve been more of a manager lately, but that you’re good with PR,” Keeley recounted, “What did you do for you last companies?”

“Oh, I floated around a lot,” Y/n began to mentally run through her old positions, “I managed small teams under a much larger umbrella of board members. Minor stuff. But in the public relations department, I’ve been in charge of social media campaigns, run a few accounts, and handled plenty of press conferences, interviews, that sort of thing.”

Keeley’s smile grew with each task that Y/n listed off. “I think you might be the most perfect fucking fit!”

Language, another unprofessionalism Y/n felt she was going to have to get used to.

“Before all of this happened,” Keeley gestured to the frilly space around them, “I did full time PR for AFC Richmond and did all that kind of stuff. That’s actually where I wanted to potentially start you off.”

Y/n shrugged, silently grateful she’d gone the extra mile with her research, “I’ll go anywhere you need me.”

“Perfect,” Keeley grinned, already getting off the couch, “I was actually heading over there for a meeting with Rebecca. It’d be a great opportunity to show you around and introduce you to some of the staff.”

“Uh, sure,” Y/n quickly picked her purse back off the floor.

“I really think you’re gonna love it there,” Keeley continued, collecting her bag and a pink binder, “I feel bad I’m not there full-time anymore. It really is one of the best places to work.”

As Keeley spoke, Y/n followed her out of the office. She struggled to keep up with how fast Keeley managed to move in her high heels. As they waited for the elevator to arrive, a brunette woman passed them by.

“Oh, Barbara,” Keeley called out, “I want you to meet the newest member of KJPR. This is Y/n.”

Barbara looked Y/n over from top to bottom as if inspecting the latest crop. Y/n’s confidence in her extended hand began to drop under the pair of judging eyes.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n,” Barbara seemed to shake her hand with caution before turning to Keeley, “You didn’t mention anything about bringing on a new hire, Miss Jones.”

Keeley visibly shrank at Barbara’s words, “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

“Ah,” Barbara replied, turning back to Y/n, “May I ask what, if any, experience you have?”

Looking between Barbara and Keeley, Y/n listed off the positions she’d previously held and the companies names. With each title, Barbara’s frown turned into…something between a smile and a frown.

“Ah, well,” Barbara took a breath, “Lovely. Welcome to KJPR.”

With one more firm shake of her hand, Barbara departed, off to whatever task needed her attention. Keeley and Y/n were left in an awkward silence not of their creation.

“We’re still getting to know one another,” Keeley explained with a nervous smile.

“I got that,” Y/n nodded.

“Right,” Keeley shifted gears and gestured towards the elevator, “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

—————————

Richmond wasn’t far from the heart of London, where Y/n had spent most of her time. Functioning nearly exclusively within the corporate world had kept her within a bubble that rarely gave her opportunities to venture outside its walls.

As Keeley drove them through Richmond, making pleasant small talk, Y/n’s eyes were transfixed on the sights. Nothing was particularly extraordinary looking, but compared to the grays and blacks of London office buildings, the place was like a daydream someone like her might create during their 9-5.

“Do you live near here?”

“Hmm?” Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, “Oh, I’m about 30 minutes away. But I’ve never really spent any time here.”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Keeley replied, turning them down another road, “You should take some time this weekend to roam around.”

Y/n filed the idea away, first she needed to confirm that AFC Richmond was the right fit.

Soon enough, Keeley pulled them into the parking lot of Nelson Road Stadium. Y/n recalled that she’d been there once to see a match with friends in college, but that had been on the spectator side. Parking mere feet away from the pitch felt surreal, even for a non-football fan.

“I’m gonna take you up to Rebecca first,” Keeley said as she shut her car door, “None of the players or coaches’ll be here since they’re still on break.”

Y/n followed alongside her, entering the stadium through the side doors. The inside of the building was painted in team colors of blue and red. Along the walls, there were trophies and framed pictures showcasing the Greyhound’s accomplishments over the decades. The history of the club was something Y/n had yet to do research on, but even ten minutes spent in the halls would tell her more than Wikipedia probably could.

Keeley led them up two flights of stairs till the colors of the walls changed to neutrals. The door at the top of the steps hung open, but Keeley still gave a courteous knock.

Rebecca looked up from her desk, smiling when she recognized the two guests. “Good morning,” she said, cheerily.

“Hi, babe,” Keeley smiled, “I brought Y/n with today. Thought it might be good for her to tour the place.”

“Of course,” Rebecca rose from her chair and met Keeley and Y/n in the middle of the room. She brought Y/n in for a half hug, half handshake, “I’m absolutely thrilled you’re here.”

“Oh,” Y/n smiled, awkwardly accepting the greeting, “I’m…pleased to be here.”

“Right,” Rebecca released her and gestured for the women towards the couch, “I’m not sure what Keeley has planned for you, but we’re never without work here.”

Before Y/n could voice her neutrality, Keeley spoke up.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she began, “I’d really like to have another pair of hands on the club, just in case there’s anything I might miss,” Keeley turned to Y/n, “I’d love to put you exclusively on Richmond duty.”

“Like I said, I’ll go where I’m needed,” Y/n raised both her hands in surrender to their plans.

Rebecca exhaled and grinned, “Perfect. Like I said, there’s never a shortage of work. With this being our first season back in the Premier League, there’s plenty of press to be handled.”

“I’m happy to go wherever I’m needed,” Y/n restated, deciding it was best to just go with the flow of things.

A knock at the door turned their attention.

“Good morning, ladies,” a shorter man sporting a suit and glasses entered the room.

“Higgins,” Keeley greeted.

“Good morning, Leslie,” Rebecca smiled, “I’d like you to meet KJPR, and Richmond’s, newest addition, Ms. Y/n Y/l/n. Leslie is our director of football operations.”

“Ah,” Higgins nodded, coming to the couch to extend his hand, “Welcome to the team, Ms. Y/l/n.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Y/n said politely, shaking his hand before sitting back down.

“Y/n will be helping Keeley handle the PR department,” Rebecca further explained, before her train of thought visibly halted, “Hang on…” she looked to Keeley, “Your old office is still vacant.”

Keeley gasped, “It is.”

Y/n’s eyes bounced back and forth between the woman.

“If Keeley can spare your presence at the KJPR office,” Rebecca placed a hand on her best friend’s arm, “How would you feel about working here?”

Searching for her words as quick as she could, Y/n shrugged one shoulder. “I’m completely fine with that,” she looked to her boss, “If Keeley’s alright with it.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Keeley smiled, “I’d actually love it if we had feet on the ground here.”

Y/n blinked. Just like that, everything was settled.

“Excellent,” Rebecca clapped her hands together once, “Shall we go for a tour?”

“Ah, that was going to be my suggestion,” Higgins spoke back up.

Never before had Y/n been swept up so quickly in a job. Nothing moved that fast in the corporate world.

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins led her back down to the main floor of the facility. Higgins and Rebecca spouted off a few historical facts about Richmond that Y/n logged away. Rebecca reiterated Keeley’s earlier statement that since they were still on break, Y/n wouldn’t be meeting the players and the coaching staff until training began the following week. Nonetheless, Y/n felt like she was somehow encroaching on the Greyhound’s territory as the tour led to the locker room.

“This will be the only time you enter and the smell is pleasant,” Rebecca quipped.

Y/n chuckled, her heels clicking against the floor as she scanned the numbers above each locker.

“Any favorites amongst our Greyhounds?” Higgins asked playfully.

“Oh, no,” Y/n paused to answer, just below Jamie Tartt’s ‘9.’

“Y/n has openly admitted to not having partaken in much of the sport,” Rebecca added.

“But I’m very excited to make Richmond my club,” Y/n was quick to do damage control over what her tipsier self had admitted, “I think what you all have accomplished here is brilliant.”

The sound of a door opening on the other side of the locker room turned their heads. A man jogged into the coach’s office, bending over one of the desks in search of something.

“That’s odd,” Rebecca muttered, stepping forward and opening up the connecting door, “Ted, what are you doing here?”

Y/n followed Keeley and Higgins’ lead and entered the room. She could finally get a clear view at the man who was, indeed, Ted Lasso.

“Oh, last time he was visiting, Henry left somethin’ in my desk and we needed to come grab it,” Ted answered, searching through one of his drawers until he retrieved whatever he was seeking.

“Ah, well, lovely timing,” Rebecca gestured for Y/n to come forward, “You can meet the newest addition to AFC Richmond. This is Ms. Y/n Y/l/n. She’ll be helping Keeley head up the PR department.”

Ted gave a friendly smile and stuck out his hand, “Well, how ‘bout that? Welcome to the family! I’m Ted.”

Y/n gave a firm handshake and returned the smile, “Y/n.”

The simple utterence of her name caught Ted’s ear. “Hang on now,” he stopped and held up both his hands, “Am I dreamin’ or do I actually hear a lack of accent?”

The five of them laughed to varying degrees. “It’s nice to hear a little bit of home for me as well,” Y/n said warmly. It had been at least four months since she’d met someone who hailed from the states that wasn’t a tourist.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Ted continued, still shaking Y/n’s hand, “It’s gonna be real nice to have someone around here who’ll understand what I’m sayin’. Like if I text the word ‘color,’ nobody’s gonna tell me it ain’t the right spelling. Or if I mention Chick-Fil-A, they won’t think I’m just shortenin’ the name of a delicious entree. Matter a fact,” Ted came up for a lightning quick breath, “Where we at with that? Is it still okay to eat there? Waters were a little murky ‘round the time I left.

Y/n was trying to process the speed in which the man spoke. “Uh, I don’t know,” she answered politely, “I haven’t been home in a while.”

Ted hummed in reply and moved on, “Well, we’re real happy that you’re here. Hey, you need anything, don’t be afraid to gimme a holler.”

“That’s very kind,” Y/n nodded as Ted finally released her hand, “Thank you.”

“Well, I gotta run,” Ted announced to his co-workers, “I got Liam out there watchin’ Henry. See y’all next week!”

With a chorus of farewells following him, Ted Lasso walked back out the way he’d come.

“Well,” Y/n began, trying to sum up her first impression as tidily as she could, “That was-“

“I felt the same way at first,” Rebecca interjected, “But truly, one of the nicest human beings you will ever meet.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keeley agreed, sweeping her hand through the air, ���Seriously, spend one day with him and he’ll be your emergency contact by lunch.”

“The players love him,” Higgins added to their defense.

But it wasn’t Ted’s personality Y/n was startled by. Ted was the midwest personified, that was all familiar. It was the speed in which Ted had offered up his kindness, how at ease he was voicing every thought on his mind. That, to Y/n, was more disarming than anything else he could have done.

“Well, I look forward to getting to know him more,” Y/n said, and there was truth to it. She appreciated co-workers who were actually pleasant to be around, even if Ted was a lot to take, “And the other coaches.”

“Why don’t I show you where your office is?” Rebecca suggested.

Their welcome wagon moved up to the second floor where, at the end of the hall, lay the space in question. It was half the size of Rebecca’s office, which was more than enough for Y/n. She’d last been in a shared cubicle far too small for two people to comfortably fit.

“My office is just at the end of the hall,” Higgins said as Y/n took in the space, “If you ever need anything.”

“It’s lovely,” Y/n smiled, her eyes running over her desk. She turned back towards the door and faced Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins, “Thank you all so much for all the hospitality you’ve shown.”

“Nonsense,” Higgins spoke for the trio, “You’re part of the family now.”

The same unease that had come from interacting with Ted Lasso filled Y/n once again.

The rest of the day was spent bouncing between Keeley and Higgins, discussing PR strategies for the new season and learning about the club’s operations. By the time 5:00 came around, Y/n felt like she had information spilling out of her ears. Her mind was filled to its brim.

After Keeley dropped her back off at the KJPR office, telling her she dazzled on her first day and wishing her a good evening, Y/n hopped in her car and drove right back to Richmond. She had no dinner plans and thought Keeley’s idea to explore the city worthwhile.

She decided on the pub they’d driven past on their way to Nelson Road, the Crown and Anchor. With it being a weeknight, it wasn’t too crowded, and she found a spot at the bar, ordering a sandwich for herself.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” the woman tending bar said after Y/n had placed her order, “You new to town, love?”

“Oh, no,” Y/n shook her head before scrunching her eyebrows, “Well, sort of. I live closer to the city but I just started a job here.”

“Ah,” the white haired woman replied as she filled a pint, handing it to a customer, “Where at?”

Y/n wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were about working for a football club. Were you supposed to go around sharing that information? Or did it mean you’d have thirty drunken fans hounding you for tickets suddenly?

“AFC Richmond,” she answered truthfully, “Public relations.”

The woman’s eyebrows raised an inch, seemingly impressed. “Well, that’s the right answer to get your meal on the house.”

Y/n laughed a little, relaxing slightly.

“Good first day then?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Y/n bobbed her head from side to side, “I mean, I really just met co-workers and learned the basics. No complaints so far.”

“Did you meet Ted yet?”

“I did,” Y/n answered, slightly confused, “You know Coach Lasso?”

The woman pointed towards the pub doors, “Lives on just the other side of the building. Comes in a couple nights a week. He’s a good man.”

“That he is,” Y/n nodded, not wanting to tarnish anyone’s reputation with her own discomforts, “Definitely tries to make you feel welcome.”

“Oh,” the woman was now coming to lean against Y/n’s side of the bar, “He won’t stop until you know you’re welcomed. Best to just let it happen. Whatever he’s done to Richmond, it works.”

It hadn’t escaped Y/n’s notice that in the two seasons Ted Lasso had been coaching the Greyhounds, there was a shift in…everything. Between videos of the players on the pitch, to little stories interspersed in her conversations with Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins throughout the day, Y/n was given the impression that Ted Lasso was a miracle worker. It didn’t take much thought to deduce that Ted was going to try and integrate her into their team as well.

“Well,” Y/n shrugged slightly, seeing that her sandwich was coming around from the kitchen, “I mean, it’s just a job. It’s not supposed to change your life or anything.”

Just as she was about to be handed her meal, the white haired woman took it from the waiter’s hands. Y/n could tell she wasn’t getting her food until the bartender had spoken her piece.

“You just watch out, love,” the woman warned with a smile, “Whole city hated Ted when he arrived, and now take a look.”

She gestured to the space around the bar as if Y/n was supposed to be seeing the peace.

“The best things that happen to us are usually the most unexpected,” she continued, giving her a wink.

Y/n drew a breath, locking onto the woman’s every syllable.

“You’re part of Richmond now,” the woman continued on, “Whether it changes your life or not isn’t up to you.”

Without another word, the woman set Y/n’s sandwich in front of her and went off to tend to another patron.

Y/n was fearful to move, lest the bartender’s words appear in thin air and smack her thoughts into line. What was this strange hold the word ‘Richmond’ seemed to have on people? Y/n had lived long enough in England to know how passionate people got about their football clubs, but this was different. This was dedication separate from the sport itself, rather devotion to the inner workings. To the coaches. To the heart of AFC Richmond itself.

Higgin’s words came back to her, part of the family. It all filled Y/n with an anxiety she’d never quite been able to put a name to.

Regardless of what the culture was, on and off the pitch, she was determined to keep to herself. Interact pleasantly with her co-workers and the team, but no more than necessary. Be proficient at the tasks given to her. Stay in her lane.

Family or not, Y/n decided as she bit into her dinner, she was there to do a job and nothing more.

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I remember this one time when Meghan said in her interview/podcast (or someone said this in her behalf) that Meghan was bullied relentlessly in school because everyone thought she was perfect, and I laughed my ass off at how off kilter someone's self assessment can be. Ifnwo deed then how she and why she was saying this. And now I think that was major projection because at some point she may done some reflection on why she has so many problems with Catherine of all people.

I think this photogate scandal explains that theory - that someone can be bullied because of their perfect image. A lot of other celebs are able to shake off major scandals of they have a perfect public image. For example, if someone came and said a horrible thing about Meryl Streep most people would simply ignore it. But it's because there is a huge PR machinery behind a celeb,and a huge celeb is a huge money making opportunity for those directly linked to them. So everyone from the agent to the associated brand goes into salvage mode.

When it comes to Catherine though, because her position she does not and cannot rely on a project created narrative. she is not an celeb, or a performer, she is a famous person. And even though she has been in the public eye for nearly 20 years, her role wasn't even constitutionally relevant till 8th Sept 2022, the day she became Princess of Wales. And even now, it is because of the constitutionally relevant role that her husband has.

This uniqueness of her position, the subltle nuance of that, is hard for the layman to grasp. Especially an American audience that culturally is very celeb and money centric. I say this because I do believe that controversial opinions and the wildfire of speculations about her are majorly coming from American commentators. American social media creators who rely on 40/20 sec clips on tiktok and insta have found that "where is Kate" is the biggest most lucrative click bait right now, and everybody and their grandma now has an opinion on it.

We live in a world of Charlene, Dubai princesses, Thai prinesses, North Korean dictators daughters/sisters/wife but we don't touch that with a 100 ft pole. Because it's uncomfortable. Because we know that noone is going to do anything to look into that.

But Catherine and husband's relationship is a free for all, all day buffet. Because she made herself available and catered to public's sensibilities. And when she drew a boundary she wouldn't budge. So everyone's sentiments get hurt now. The same people who gossip about her now would happily call her a step Ford wife and a clothes horse but ohh and ahh over her coat dresses and shiny hair and lovely shoes.

Noone stops for a second to think that maybe this woman is feeling unwell, is recovering from a surgery, has a serious medical issue and would like to recover at home without having to put on makeup and fake small talk with strangers.

We cry about feminism and equality and women's rights, but only applaud women who exhibit overt ambition. If a woman wants to stay at home, and is able to afford that, it's problematic. We want a woman to value self love and self care but if she prioritizes her health and care above public opinion she is dragged through the mud. Her health, her looks, her morals, her husband's morals, integrity, family values, privacy, her children's health, children's right to privacy....everything is open to discussion. And it's ok.

It's shameful and appalling that not ONE journalist, not one person with power, not one paper, publication or news Network has publicly spoken out in her favour and called out the bullying. This is not a Photoshop issue. It's just disguised as one. This gleeful gossiping about her "disappearance" is a gross violation of her rights.

Everything you've said is spot on. It is 100% American busybodies driving the criticism, controversy, and scandal. We/they don't understand what it's like to have someone who is above celebrity because our culture sees celebrity fame as the objective end-goal, so we demand for everyone to fit into our model of celebrity.

And while I have to give Meghan the benefit of the doubt and agree that she may have been bullied at school, I don't think it was for being perfect. That's Kate's story. All Meghan has done, since 2016, is portray Kate's life story as hers.

[iasdubai]

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[alarici]

State of decay

Rated T, 950 words

-

In the years since the Kira case, with Near at the helm, and L and Watari long since buried in the plot beside the west wing, what was once called The Wammy’s House decays.

It takes seven years to fully dismantle the program. The youngest children need to find foster homes or new families or other, carefully vetted, well-funded programs to matriculate into. The older children are graduated and placed in the best universities around the world—set to become the everyday successes of tomorrow. Tsinghua, Juilliard, Cairo, LSE, UCLA, Tohoku, ETH Zurich, Oxford. The residual funds are allocated appropriately to make sure that everyone is well taken care of. Study funds and stipends, merit grants and insurance.

Personally, Near sees to the edge cases. Kids who, according to the headmasters and the instructors, never lived up to the promise of their aptitude testing—the weak, the attention deficit, the headcases. He speaks to each one—Do you want to live alone? Do you want to learn a skill and work? Do you want to go back to where they found you? What are your medical needs.

It’s dispassionate work that he takes on in his limited spare time. The dismantling of the program was not necessarily his idea, but he saw it to the end.

By 2024, L Lawliet has been dead for almost two decades. Enough time for a child to grow and have a child of their own. Near has no children—will never and can never—and finds this fact amusing.

At exactly 13:23 GMT on 21 October, 2024, Near celebrates a homecoming of sorts.

—

The grounds have been left to wither. The estate is unsellable—or, nobody wants to bother selling it to a Silicon valley expat or a London financier’s portfolio. After all, it was a school. Renovations would be required.

When Near is driven into town and left there—”I’ll get there from here, thank you,”—he overhears, in a quiet cafe, that the children think the mansion on the hill is haunted. “Halloween” is an American holiday that is not celebrated in England. The evening is foggy and limpid. The sky threatens an afternoon rain.

He arrives at the wrought iron gates at 15:13. He knows there is nothing for him, here. But he’s already been given this time to pay his respects. A holiday of sorts. Never in the past twenty years has he kneeled before graves. He expects he won’t today, either. There is nobody here to pay respects to. Mello is buried in an unmarked plot in a quiet district of Tokyo. The stake on the eastern edge of the property in Winchester—In Memoriam, Mihael Keehl—is growing moss. Near stops by this landmark, first. Many colleagues and coworkers, commanding officers and cadets, have died since Mello. Near has not kept track of many of their names.

Mello’s memorial has not been cared for. They stopped sending groundskeepers to the property in 2019. Near carries a book in one hand, his plastic cane in the other. He stares at the spike, leans on the arm brace, and considers the most respectful acknowledgment of this memorial. This isn’t what he came here to do. Mihael Keehl—no, Mello—has been dead for more than a decade. In that time, Near has solved more than five hundred cases. A-Kira. The Hong Kong murders. The Dubai trafficking ring. A few stray Death Notes.

In the years elapsed, the loss has simmered. Like soup, which Near has seen others make (his current boyfriend is fond of cutting the mirepoix into centimeter by centimeter cubes) the thought of Mello is turbid and wafts around him constantly. However, there is no room for the what if. There is only the course the universe bent, that day.

Near, in his own way, has paid his respect. Said his thank yous, if he owes any thanks. He bows, as far as he can manage, to the spiritless grave. He does not kneel.

In Tokyo, Mello’s bones are likely rusting, rotting in the temperate soil. Were he buried here, at 51° latitude, he may still have his skin, in death. But this is unimportant. He would not wish to be buried here.

Near bows, and says two prayers for the dead. He knows a Latin version as well as a Hebrew. To this day, he does not know if Mello died religious—died believing in any gods beyond those he had met and been scorned by.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.”

“יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא.”

He adds a hymn Mello might have sung for his parents in the dialect he most likely spoke before his life as a successor began.

“Святой Юмо, Святой Куатле, Святой Колыдымо, мемнам серлаге.”

Near has been told not to pass judgment on the irrationality of faith, so he has learned the hymns. The grass grows tall around Mello’s stake.

One year, Near had gotten angry about it. Back when he was twenty one or twenty two—inconsequential—and awake for forty hours, Near had raged at a silent room over it, and never again. And the anger was not about the death, nor about Near’s inheritance, his duty. Not Mello’s mistakes nor his sacrifice. Likely, looking back with the hindsight and wisdom of a man ten years older, Near images he experienced as much grief as he was capable of, that night. There was no grave to stand over, and there was no body, in the small room in Cape Canaveral when Near was twenty one. No surviving images of him. No letters nor notebooks. The bout of rage, insanity, grief (he cautions to call it) was triggered by a smell (something sweet burning), of all things. And had subsided with the yellow dawn.

The frustration was likely at being left alone. Of his own inefficacy in his first trial, and the acknowledgement that a man like Mello had deserved to live to see more days. Had deserved better than a pine wood stake on a lonely corner of the grounds of the school where he was raised and an unmarked plot in Adachi City, Tokyo.

Next, Near walks slowly towards the house itself. A jackrabbit sprints across the lawn in front of him. A hawk circles to the north. 

[fangirl-dot-com]

idk if national anthems are held the same way as like the american national anthem, but here it’s respectful to stay silent while it’s sung or played // it's the same here in the uae, i live in dubai and every morning at school we have to stand for the national anthem and speaking in the middle of the anthem playing is extremely disrespectful

the national anthem can be respected two ways here in the US

if it’s instrument and played, people are welcome to sing along but it’s still disrespectful if you talk or do anything else

if someone sings it, normally at like ballgames or major events, everyone is supposed to be quiet while it’s sung

[ceasarslegion]

Uncle story?

Oh boy!

So the first thing i need to say about my uncle is that he is an idiot. Terminally stupid and also the most self-righteous bastard I've ever met. Truly deadly combo.

I must also start by clarifying that this is not the same openly gay uncle who is a Scottish lord and ran for mayor of a small Saskatchewan town because he was bored and won and then showed up to all the official things in a top hat. That is technically my great uncle and on my dad's side. We must not smear that uncle's name due to confusing him with my mom's brother who is too stupid to realize how stupid he is and thinks the fact that no one can understand what the fuck he's ever talking about is a sign of intelligence.

So my uncle is openly gay. And he lives in the UK as a dual dutch-canadian citizen. He is engaged to an Israeli man (do not discourse on this post. I mention his nationality to highlight something else I will mention. Just some guy who doesn't even live there is not responsible for a certain conflict going on). He also grew up in Dubai but family went back to Canada for a spell around when he entered high school. He works as a travel agent last time I checked, but he can never hold down a job for more than a few months without getting fired so who knows at this point.

You're with me, yes? Gay, immigrant, fiance from another country, grew up in the gulf?

This motherfucker. Said he would vote for Trump if he were american and that brexit was a good idea. And is anti-immigration. And thinks feminism is cancer. And once tried to convince my mom that men across the UK were being arrested for "stare-rape" which is apparently when you just look at a woman in public and she can then claim you raped her with your eyes. And thinks pride is pedophilic. And thinks bisexuality is just people who want to be special and can't pick a side. And the only person he's still on speaking terms with in my immediate family is my grandma who is just as toxic as he is stupid.

My dad once said, word for word, while a few drags into a blunt: "if I ever see [uncle] again, I'm going to beat the shit out of him for what he said about my son." I don't know what exactly happened to get him kicked out of my parents apartment when they cut ties with him during a visit, but I know it was a screaming match over something to do with me. I had long moved out at that point so I wasn't there to see it. And this is coming from the mouth of the same guy from my red bull and snickers post, my dad is not a violent or scary guy and I've never seen him lay a hand on anybody.

My uncle and I used to be really close when I was a kid because he's a very artistic person, and I was too. We were the two creatives in the family. Also as a queer kid who didn't know he was trans yet I was naturally drawn to queer masculine influences. This fell apart pretty quickly when I started like, growing into my own person instead of a carbon copy of the people around me. He was steadily becoming dumber and dumber to me but it really came to a head in 2016

So trump wins the US election. I am still living in Abu Dhabi at this point and I had just graduated high school in June of that year. My boss is American. She is devastated and says she's going home early that day because she needs a few hours to process what's gonna happen now. At my desk I make a Facebook post saying that if any of the americans I knew refused to vote over your own self-righteous bs that I don't want to talk to you again because you clearly cared more about having the moral high ground than sucking it up for the people who trump will go on to hurt. This post is a big hit among my Arab majority peers.

This goes on without incident. 3 months later my uncle comments a big essay on it sucking trumps dick and saying some pseudo-qanon shit about Hillary Clinton. I respond citing actual sources and hit him where it hurts: Mike pence's then-plan to divert AIDS research funding into conversion therapy.

I go back to work (I am at work when the response happens too). About an hour later my phone buzzes on my desk. I open it to an essay twice the size in my messenger DMs from him crytyping about how I've changed and turned into such a whiny SJW, how I'm no longer the same person i was when I was 11 (damn I hope so), how I'm such a bully now (YOU CAME ONTO *MY* POST 3 MONTHS LATER???), and uh, no word of a lie, that he can't be racist because he dated a black man in high school. I. I never mentioned race in the post or my response to him. He brought that up on his own.

I ended up calling him out on it by replying to his public comment with "hey if you're gonna cry about how you're not racist in my inbox for pages and pages on end like that because someone said you were being stupid at least do it in the same place you were flaunting your idiocy, damn."

We didn't talk for a good couple years after that. And then something came up and we talked again for a bit, I don't remember exactly what anymore but we had to interact in person for it. I was willing to be civil, he started by doing the equivalent of crossing his arms and pouting until I said sorry for how mean I was to such a sensitive little muffin on the internet. Very mature guy I'm related to here isn't he. Insane how he's the uncle and I'm the nephew huh

This lasted for a good 2 weeks. Because the pokemon sun and moon leaks happened and I showed him the character models for red and blue and joked that they looked like a newlywed couple on their honeymoon in Hawaii. Pokemon was one of the few things we could still agree on at this point, so i was trying to bridge a gap with a family member with it. Thinking that he would appreciate the joke as a gay man.

He exploded at me. Like full on screaming exploded at me over that. He yelled about how homophobic I was, that i had no right to call myself queer because I hadn't been sexually assaulted or threatened to be murdered (HE HASNT EITHER??? LIKE HE VERY MUCH HASNT 😭😭😭 also you are making a LOT of assumptions about the life of someone you made NO effort to be a part of despite him giving you every olive branch you could possibly grab), that it was insulting to every gay person in the world to say that the best representation we deserved was pokemon (THATS NOT WHAT I SAID??? Also what's wrong with a gay pokemon character 😭 how is that insulting 😭😭) and that I had no idea what it was like to suffer for my identity. He said this while I was living in a place where queer people got executed for being moral degenerates btw.

Something in me snapped that day and I responded with "oh tell me more about how hard your life was in your dubai villa with an in-ground pool and a hired nanny. I'll truly never suffer as much as you have. Tell me more about how you threw the first brick at stonewall."

My parents had to stop themselves from laughing at that response and steered me out before my uncle could explode even more, and I never talked to him again.