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sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog · 9 months ago

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Hi. I've started writing a semi-weekly TB Newsletter, if you're interested in that kind of thing. Here's the second letter--about public-private partnerships, leprosy, and my forthcoming big announcement about expanding access to tuberculosis care. You'll hear more about that on Thursday. Anyway, here's the newsletter. You can sign up here.

---

In advance of the Big Announcement this Thursday, I made a vlogbrothers video today on how we end TB–with the comprehensive care plan often known as S-T-P, which is short for “Search, Treat, and Prevent.” But one thing I didn’t discuss in that video is the downstream benefits of comprehensive TB care.

Once you’ve hired community health workers to screen for TB, it becomes much easier to screen for other illnesses like diabetes, high blood pressure, and non-TB lung issues (especially lung cancer). TB is notoriously a disease of vicious cycles–a disease of malnutrition that makes malnutrition worse, a disease of poverty that makes poverty worse, and so on–but addressing TB can be a story of virtuous cycles: TB survivors become TB advocates, as I’ve seen with my friend Henry in Sierra Leone. More effective TB treatment leads to less stigmatization of the disease, as communities come to see the disease as curable and survivable rather than terrifying and deadly. And better access to TB care leads to a stronger overall healthcare system, because more community health workers are better connected to more primary healthcare clinics, which allows communities to better address all kinds of health problems.

—

Mycobacterium tuberculosis is not the only bacteria of its family that causes a lot of human suffering; there is a closely related species called mycobacterium leprae that causes the disease known as Hansen's Disease, or more commonly leprosy. There are still around 200,000 cases of leprosy diagnosed each year around the world, and while the disease is curable, it also remains–especially if not caught and treated early–a significant driver of suffering and disability in our world.

There are many connections between TB and leprosy: Not only are the bacteria that cause these illnesses very similar, but patients have often expressed similarities in experience. TB patients who were encouraged or forced to live in sanitariums often compared themselves to lepers. One disheartening parallel between the diseases is that in both cases, those living with these illnesses are often abandoned by their families and must make new social connections within the new community of “leper” or “consumptive.” Also, both Hansen’s Disease and TB continue to exist largely because of systemic failures rather than due to a lack of knowledge or technology.

—

I really recommend Dr. Salmaan Keshavjee’s TED talk about how we ended TB in the U.S., and how we can end it using the same strategy around the world.

—

Last link from me today: I’ve been thinking a lot about the complex intersection between public and private investment (for reasons that will be clear on Thursday!) and I keep coming back to one infographic in an excellent paper (https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0256883) about the public money that was poured into the creation of the GeneXpert Machine, which can quickly and accurately test for TB. The GeneXpert machine has created a lot of profit for Danaher’s shareholders, and it has also created some societal benefit, but it could create a lot more societal benefit if it created less profit for Danaher’s shareholders. This tension seems to me one of the defining features of 21st century life. Anyway, here is the infographic:

That’s the money–over $250,000,000 of it–that came from taxpayers (mostly in the U.S. and Europe) to fund the creation of the GeneXpert Machine. And yet, this tech largely funded by the public is controlled entirely by private enterprise. I’m troubled by that model of value allocation, even if I still believe that private money and private enterprise have important roles to play in fueling innovation. But taking a quarter billion dollars of public money and then claiming total ownership over a technology, and using that ownership to deny the technology to the world’s poorest people, seems like a deeply flawed system of resource distribution to me.

I’ll see you on Thursday. I’m nervous and excited.

DFTBA,

John

#tuberculosis #it's so funny how this became my job #not like my paying job but the one i do and think about all the time #like of all things #it was this #this is my hobby #anyway #beats jkr's horrible fucking hobby anyday

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mintmatcha · 8 months ago

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Inevitable Things : chapter one

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. no porn in the first two chapters, sorry gang :)

masterlist | next chapter

Prome Medical Devices hired you as a personal assistant to the CEO, Toshinori Yagi, shortly after he was diagnosed with his second bout of prostate cancer and shortly before they learned it had metastasized to bone. It was a tragic, yet expected turn of events.The man had been sick most of his life, they told you, he's probably slept in hospital beds more times than he's slept in his own. It was, like most things, inevitable.

Over the following weeks, through chemo and taps and rotating hospital doors, he began working from home and handling only the absolute basics, and your silly assistant job evolved into more. You had only planned to stay for a couple months, but then another horrible thing happened.

You became Somehow Important.

Days went from scrolling on Twitter between writing notes to juggling everything that no one else could handle. Sitting in for meetings, handling calls, scheduling reviews and system checks, running to the pharmacy midday: there's nothing you haven't done. It’s a lot, but in the grand scheme of it all, it's nothing-- especially compared to the things that everyone else gets done here.

8:35am. The security man gives you a nod without checking for your badge. Engineers skitter around the office like cockroaches. It's always a good sign when no one immediately comes to find you; that means your boss is still alive and doing about the same as he was yesterday. No updates, you’ve found, are good. No one bothers to tell you when good things happen: you’re the fixer, the emergency contact. When you’re being informed of anything, it’s because someone else wants you to clean up the mess.

(The only exception is from the man himself. Toshinori sends you the best kind of updates; mundane things from his life that he needs to share, like pictures of his duck pond or his review of the new coffee shop in town. It’s enough to keep you going, even when the day absolutely blows. You only had a few months working directly with the man, but he was fond of you-- and everyone was fond of him.)

Outdated filaments thrum down the halls. Your heels click against the tile with every step, a slow march to another day of monotony, a kind of dread that not even your phone can distract you from. Because your position is rather undefined for the corporate world, your desk is in an awkward spot, sandwiched in the hall, equidistant from the engineering department, the CEO's office, and the coffee machine. In terms of convenience, it's lovely, but it also means you have nowhere to hide.

Before you can even make it to your desk, a young man pops into the way and heads straight for you, a bit too quickly to be passed off as casual. Your heart sinks, then you realize it's just one of the interns: a college kid who's clearly had too many energy drinks already.

“Hey,” Denki smiles with too much gum, so wide his cheeks almost swallow up his eyes. He’s a scruffy, dirty blonde, a patchy black streak on one side of his head. His button down is obviously unironed, so crumpled it almost looks like a pattern, matching perfectly with his untied tie. It’s a good thing that he’s cute; you doubt he’d have gotten this far in life if he wasn’t.

“Good morning, how are you? Have a good night? You look so pretty this morning. MILF town over here.” he says, twiddling the toe of his shoe into the carpet. “I made the pot of coffee for you,so you don’t have to worry about that-”

You cut him off. “What did you do?”

The interns don’t report to you. If anything, they run parallel to you. If there’s anyone they should be ass kissing, it should be the department head, not some personal assistant, but the group considers you an ally. Maybe even a friend.

“I wouldn’t say that it’s something that I did,” the boy explains. He sucks air in through his teeth. “It’s more like what I didn’t do.”

“Denki.”

“It’s just the reports! I have to submit them end of day and it’s just not--” He juts out his bottom lip. “Can you proof my work? Please? The Eraser’s going to have my head if I make another mistake.”

The lead engineer is infamous for deleting whole chunks of code that the interns have made and ruining months of their work. Last month it was Ochako's work, who then spent the rest of the day at your desk, sniffling. The four others were equally terrified of the man, constantly fretting and bitching about the ‘cruel working conditions.’ If Prome wasn't so prestigious (and internships weren't necessary for graduating) there’d be no interns left. You’re sure Eraser would prefer it that way.

“Please?” Denki clutches his hands together in prayer. “Please, please, please?”

You don't even pretend to hem and haw.

“Email it over before lunch.” you say and he lights up.

“Aw, you’re the best!” He turns away and practically skips down the hall. “I’m gonna drop off Izuku’s stuff too, okay?”

There’s no chance to say no before Denki’s gone. You flop into your chair and kick off your heels, trying to convince yourself that you don’t already regret saying yes. You catch your own appearance in the black screen of your computer. Makeup doesn’t do much to cover up the fact you’ve been crying. You can see it in your eyes, in the creases of your skin that you wish weren't there. Even as the screen lights up, you can still catch your own face, starting back with that sad, sad expression.

It's been mostly sleepless nights since Touya left, but you push through and ignore whatever you can. You miss your travel mug, the one that matched the coaster on your desk. You miss your forks, the ones that weren’t the awful ones from the thrift store down the road, bought solely out of panic when you returned to an empty apartment. Most of all, you miss him, how the apartment felt warmer with two bodies instead of one, and how secure you felt with someone who loves you.

Your screen loads and a big, red 24 flashes in the corner-- fuck, the works already piling up. You try to squish any thought of Touya’s disappearing act into the back of your head. Like a dog, Touya always comes back home to you. He just needs to be wild for a bit, play off leash, and then he’ll crawl back like always.

You check your phone. He’s still saved under “AVOID AT ALL COSTS” and the last five texts you sent are all unread. Your thumb hovers over the delete button for a moment; it’d be easier to cut him off and end this cycle. You can stop pushing the boulder up the hill, just for it to tumble back down again. You could pursue someone else, maybe someone nice or smart or at least not rude-

Focus. Compliance is raising concerns about the new platform and manufacturing has CC'ed you into an issue about screw heads, two things that you know nothing about. You flip your phone over and push through. What’s the difference between a hex and a truss and why should you care?

11:59. You’re none the wiser about either topic, but the dust seems to be settling and everyone seems to be happy enough. Denki’s reports are an absolute mess, bad to the point you start to wonder if he even tried. The pages aren't even formatted correctly, so it’s going to take most of your lunch to iron out the wrinkles. Luckily, Izuku is a bit more competent and his tasks look great, so-

“Oh, baby girl!”

You stop typing and sit straight up to peer over your computer screen, hiding the remnants of your microwaved lunch. With arms raised high and dressed in his finest ironed button down, Yamada Hizashi enters. Tall, blonde, thin, and leggy: Hizashi would have been a Victoria’s Secret model if he wasn’t a man. His long hair is tied back into a messy bun, a couple of loose tendrils floating around his face in an effortlessly, annoyingly charming way as he marshes straight for you.

“Let me see ‘em!” he demands loudly, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Come on, baby. You know what I want.”

If it was anyone else, you’d think the man was a creep, but Hizashi is just so earnest about the way he lights up a room. With a belabored sigh and a grin, you roll your chair back a bit and stick your leg to the side to reveal your pink, fluffy slippers. The man claps his hands together and laughs a deep, hearty chuckle, genuinely bemused.

The bunny slippers had started as a secret. The original dress code had required women to wear heels to work, which was fine, until the back of your feet became nothing but blisters. To give yourself some respite during the day, you had hidden a pair of slippers under your desk, just a little treat to make it through the day. It seemed like a genius idea-

Until the day the fire alarm went off. In the surprise, you had forgotten to change your shoes back, and proceeded to spend the next half an hour outside with the entire company in your violently pink shoes.

Luckily, everyone thought it was pretty funny.

Especially Hizashi.

“Seeing my work wife is the best part of the week.”

You throw a hand over your heart and gasp, trying to hold back your smile. “Only your work wife?”

“Oh, babygirl, I’d marry you in an instant.” He leans over your desk with another sigh, this one heavier. “I’d make you the trophy wife you were born to be.”

“Cool it, Mic.” Your heart sinks a bit at the voice. “HR is going to have your head if you aren’t careful.”

Aizawa “The Eraser” Shouta makes his third appearance at the coffee machine this morning. He’s an average sized man, if not slightly short, with dark hair and the beginnings of a salt and pepper beard. The muscles in his jaw flex whenever he looks your way, almost as if he’s chewing away his annoyance. The most notable thing about him is a scar on his high cheek bone, long healed and silver in the light. He sits his coffee cup - a beat to shit Stanley thermos from long before they were cool- under the tap and lets the java pour, that sour expression never leaving his face.

Aizawa has worked here since the beginning. As one of the founding members of Prome and a lead engineer, he’s had his hands in absolutely every machine the company has produced, and yet he carries himself with none of the pomp and circumstance he deserves. Instead of abiding by the strict dress code, he wears a bright yellow sweatshirt that has an obvious coffee stain on the pocket. It’d be charming if he wasn’t an infamous dick. The two of you rarely interact, despite the fact he visits the coffee station next to your desk multiple times a day, offering you no more than a nod most days. The interns are terrified of him-- and rightly so. You’re also scared of him. You’ve never met anyone else as tightly wound or as obsessed with work as him; there’s a rumor that he even sleeps here some days.

“Don’t listen to him,” Hizashi says. “He’s just jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m protecting the company from potential litigation when bunny slippers over here-” he juts a chin your way- “ decides your flirting isn’t fun anymore.”

You knew he wasn’t jealous. It’s an open secret that Aizawa doesn’t like you very much. Unlike any other of the department heads, he never allocates you work or stops by to chat. There was even a rumor that he wanted to eliminate your position last year; you wouldn’t care so much if he didn’t have the power and sway to make that happen.

Hizashi pops a hip to the side. He isn’t afraid of anyone it seems; he even claims to be the man’s friend after hours.“Would you rather me go back to flirting with you?”

Aizawa stares back, only the trickle of coffee echoing in the hall. Finally, when it almost reaches the top, he shuts it off and glares. “You’re not even supposed to be in office today, Mic.”

Hizashi had always been the most notable salesman in the company, but once the CEO’s health went downhill, he had taken over a lot of the speaking roles as well. Interviews, speeches, and the like: Toshinori Yagi had dubbed him Mr. Microphone and the name had just stuck. From what you can tell, he’s actually pretty close with Aizawa and the other founding members outside of work as well.

“I have a quick meeting with the marketing gals in a couple minutes,” Hizashi explains. He brings his attention back to you, brows waggling. Fuck- you know what he’s about to say.

“And I wanted to wish my wife an early happy birthday.”

Oh, god. Your face flushes with heat-- you had hoped he had forgotten that. You glance over to Aizawa, who seems more interested than usual.

“It's tomorrow,” you explain. He nods curtly.

“Our office darling is going to be thirty, flirty and feeling fine!” Mic explains further. Ugh. You wish he didn't sound so happy about it. When you think about it for too long, turning thirty feels like the end of the world, an evil you just can't avoid. It's better than the alternative, you guess.

“Are you and the boyfriend planning on a romantic night?”

A second gut punch of a statement.

“Oh, no, I’m just-- he--” You almost get emotional for a moment. Thirty years old and single: it feels like the end of the world for some reason. Everyone else is getting married or having kids or living some dream life. Fuck-- even two of the goddammit interns are engaged and they're practically babies! At this point, you might as well give up and die alone; no one else is ever going to want you, are they?

The glimpse of Aizawa in the corner, watching you with those judgemental eyes, sobers you up quickly.

“We broke up, so I’m just staying in.”

The two snap their heads towards each other. Mic waggles his eyebrows, not so subtly gesturing to a non receptive Aizawa. You know that look, the excitement and relief. It’s not a secret that no one really liked Touya-- people have been openly voicing their contempt for years. He wasn’t a bad guy, except for the times he was, but people only ever remembered the bad things.

“Oh, is it…?” Mic bites back his words, debating how harsh he should be. “Is it for real this time?”

Touya always comes back. Everyone knows the routine by now.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m done with him.”

“Good.” Aizawa says. You grimace at that; even he knows? You didn’t know he paid attention to anything outside of work, let alone your shitty interpersonal drama.

“More than good. Amazing! Spectacular! I’m so, so, so proud of you!” Mic adds on and you pretend it doesn’t bother you. It’s strange; the more others despise him, the more your heart aches. Touya needs you and you need him; who else will have him?

Who else will have you?

“That means we can go out for drinks to celebrate!”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“Too late, nope. We’re having a two-for-one birthday single bash tomorrow.” He’s on his phone, typing wildly. “I hope you have something pretty to wear because I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

Fuck. You’d rather be alone, sniveling and waiting for Touya’s return in your apartment, but Hizashi is smiling. His intentions are good; it’d be cruel to deny him.

“Nemuri knows some awesome spots-” The man is a whirl, typing and talking and walking. “You better get excited, baby girl.”

“Oh, yay,” you offer weakly. Hizashi isn’t listening anymore; he’s caught up in his own plans, briskly walking down the hall. A breath you didn’t know you were holding sneaks out and you slump back down to your seat.

“You really don’t have to let him walk all over you like that,” Aizawa says. He swirls his cup slowly, watching the rim.

You try to offer the man a smile, but you can tell it looks forced. Sure, Hizashi can be a lot, but he just wants to help, as misguided as that urge is.

“It’s okay.” When he doesn’t look convinced, you add. “Really.”

“Are you sure?” he presses, voice tight.

“Mhm.” You return to your keyboard and start typing, hoping that he understands the social cue. “Thanks though.”

Thankfully, he lets it go. Turning down the hall, he starts to sip his coffee, but then freezes mid stride.

“You make this?”

“No.”

“I can tell,” Aizawa says, examining his cup. “It’s fucking dog water.”

That comment is so off kilter that you can’t help but snort. Aizawa watches you for a beat more, maybe bemused, maybe not, then nods. With that, he leaves, an empty coffee pot in his wake. Another item to add on your growing list.

The rest of the day goes by quicker than you need it to. Denki leaves a little bit after lunch for a doctor’s appointment and the rest of the workforce trickles out after. The head of development, Nezu, has you run through potential presentations before you follow up on compliance’s worries again. The coffee pot was refilled four more times, all by you, and your messages to Touya still sit delivered and unread. Two hours after the work day was supposed to end, you slip your heels back on. Denki’s files are pretty much unrecognizable now, but that’s a good thing. All of the college students are intelligent and more accomplished than you’ll ever be, but you’re not sure why they can’t figure out basic busy work. There’s nothing hard about it, other than focusing.

With a final press of a key, your personal printer hums to life. A staple and a paperclip and you’re done: now it’s just a quick trip to engineering and you can finally go home. Your work isn't physical, but God, hunching at a desk all day takes a toll on your body. A flare of something eats at your lower back as you stroll the empty building and try to rub the grit from your eyes. You think there’s a frozen pizza at home or maybe some pasta-- though, you can’t remember if that was from this monday or last monday. Maybe it’d be safer to just throw it away.

The department itself is a long row of cubicles, with miscellaneous machines and computers littering the other side of the room. You recognize old prototypes and parts of Prome's most famous product: a hospital bed.

Before you had set foot in this building, you never thought a bed could count as a medical device -- or as something highly complicated and thoroughly engineered -- but this bed is different. It’s comfortable, lightweight, and durable, all while able to track a patient’s movement and comfort. It even records a patient's glucose, body temperature, SPO2, and many other medical things that go over your head. When used correctly, bedsores rates have been reduced to nearly zero and hospital related illnesses are caught significantly earlier.

In about three months, the newest model will be released, complete with full integration into electronic record systems. If everything goes according to plan, it’ll be revolutionary. Working here is a headache, but you do take pride that it's a company that does good.

“Do you need something?”

You jump at the sound of the voice, flipping around to search the room. Tucked at the end of it all is an open office door. Inside, Aizawa is perched at his desk, head in one hand, reading glasses in the other. He’s illuminated only by the computer screen, his deep, dark eyes bouncing side to side as he carefully reads.

Aizawa always looks tired, but now so especially; his heavy lidded eyes are drooped with fatigue and his skin is pallor, black stubble dusting his unshaved cheeks. There’s no bite or annoyance to his voice-- maybe even a little levity. For once, you don’t want to scurry away from him like a mouse, hiding in the shadows and corners to avoid his claws. You still approach cautiously, heels sharp against the tile. The silence in between each hit makes your skin prick with an unknown nausea.

“I thought everyone went home.” You say.

“Everyone did. Just me-- and you, apparently.” He taps out a word or two. His office is devoid of personal items, desk covered in nothing but stacks of papers and illegible post notes, nothing to hint to his personal life. It’s been three years, yet you have no idea what his personal life is like-- if he even has one, that is.

“No slippers tonight?”

That was either a dig or a joke. You aren’t sure either way, but the way your shoes sound when you walk even closer feels like its own answer. When you reach the corner of his desk, he finally looks your way. It hits you that you've never actually been this close to him before. It's always been passes in the hall and distant conversations. His skin is smoother than you'd thought it'd be, with creases between his brow that fill themselves when he-

“Do you… need something?”

“Oh, uh-- Denki left these at my desk by accident,” you lie, sliding the file on to the corner of his desk. “I think they’re for you.”

He regards you again, more thoroughly this time. With a tilt of his head, he inspects your face, eyes flickering between your two. In the dim, they’re nothing but black dots, an inkinesss that you could fall into if you were any closer.

He’s pretty. And that’s an unsettling thought. You’ve never allowed yourself to consider that before. Immediately, you walk the thought back. No. Nobody with his personality is attractive-- hands down. Touya is the only dick you need in your life.

“You should go home. It's late.” he says before turning back to his work. He types a couple things, then hits the backspace and deletes it all again. “Go home.”

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you sigh, the workday catching up to you. “You should too.”

“Hm,” he grunts. He takes a long sip from his thermos, tipping it back to suck the dregs. You’d never noticed the sticker of the bottom before- a faded and torn image of an orange cat. “Maybe.”

That’s a no. You don’t push the issue. You start towards the door, then pause.

“Do… do you want me to make another pot of coffee before I go?” You’re not sure why you offer. Everything’s been put away and cleaned for tomorrow. It’d take at least 15 minutes to set up again.

Aizawa slides his glasses back on, adjusting them by the bridge, only for them to slip right back down the flat bridge of his nose.

“You don't have to do that.”

With that you leave, no proper goodnight dismissing you. The tap of your heels and the clack of his keyboard mix into some sort of soft, unbalanced rhythm. Despite yourself, you think of Touya, of where he is and where he isn’t. Is it also quiet there? Has he thought of someone else in the same way you just did?

When the doors of the building close and the security guard nods your way, the sound of percolation echoes behind you, the final drops falling into a freshly brewed pot.

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nyx-is-missing · 11 months ago

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Graceland too

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Athena's kid)

Sumarry: When a certain daughter of Athena felt unappreciated her whole life, someone was there to see her.

Warnings: Sad girl hours, shitty parenthood, hurt/comfort because im no monster and probably other things wich i forgot.

a/n: look who is back!

Demigod.

Half blood.

Half a goddess.

Half a human (?).

And yet, fully a disappointment.

When Athena sent me to my Dad's house, in a golden crib, dressed in pure white dress, glowing, how the myths would expect a demigod to be, then, and only right then i was a gift.

A piece o divine love, something to prove to him, till the end of his life, that at some point, he was good enough for a Goddess.

But days after, immediately, i was just a crying baby, hungry, with a busy father, without a mother, and that only made him remember that, that was it.

He wasnt good enough for her, she wasnt staying, she never even actually even considered, he would never have that kind of honour, only a crying baby he never expected.

I wasnt a gift anymore, it actually felt like i was a insult, everything about me started to enrage him.

And oh, how did he reminded me of that every single day of my existence.

When i got diagnosed with dyslexia all i've heard whas that Athena gave me up to him because i was defective, when i couldnt sit still during classes, and exploded with all the repression i suffered everyday, suddently i was a clock bomb, when my grades where great, i was never rewarded, it was "the least i could do, to make up for the shame that i was".

I was never loved, never wanted, never encouraged, at least not by him.

The very little love i've known in my life, i own to the people who felt pitty of me.

The teachers, the neighbours who have heard the insults, the stray animals who could sense sadness, the very old grandparents who never actually saw me more than twice a year, and the people who worked at a nerby library, who let me stay past closing time, leaving only with the cleaners.

I was 12 when he had enough and sent me to camp, literally the very day school was over.

I came home to my clothes packed and him waiting by the car keys.

Being in camp for the first time, was also the very first time in my life i have ever felt....normal.

Not good, not bad, not great, not terrible, i was one, and that was enough.

I spend that summer being quiet, i sat in the corner, i didnt spoke, i didnt interrupted, i didnt had any ideas, i wasnt good enough to do that, thats what i've been told my whole life, thats my true.

It took a whole new summer for Athena to claim me.

I have always wondered if she was fighting with herself, if she had any problems having to admit that she made a mistake, with me, or with him.

It didn't matter, for the first time i had brothers and sisters, who wanted me, who understood when i wasnt the best, who asked for my graded tests, to put up in the wall.

They understood when i was hard to crack, when i insisted in being quiet, when i wouldnt share my ideas, they understood it all.

I didn't.

Each and every new summer i spent there, all i could ask myself was:

Why could i not be great like all of them?

Why im still afraid?

Why i was still useless?

Im now sixteen and the same questions still were unanswered.

And today i felt worse than ever.

It was my birthday, and i havent got a single letter from him, nothing, nothing.

It felt like he was saying i wasnt worth anything again.

Earlier, i tried to pretend nothing was happening, smiling with my siblings, finally making plans for capture the flag, finally belonging like i promissed i would try to do that year.

My plan was used, it wasnt perfect, but it was used, and surprising myself and the other team, we won.

I could see the other team confused, and Clarisse cussing us to death.

Still i was so happy, for the first time in my life i showed myself, and i worked....partially.

The happiness of victory didnt last much in me, because i saw a new brother of mine almost bursting to tears, he was young and just got claimed a few days ago, he wasnt used to that, and he wasnt supose to get hurt, but the red that painted his arms said otherwise.

I couldnt stare at him without feeling like i failed again.

Why couldnt i be perfect for once?

I took him to infirmary and held his hand while he was getting his stiches, saying sorry all the time.

I tried thinking it was okay, people get hurt, move on.

I had diner, i took a bath, i tried to sleep, i couldnt.

The tears were falling down and i knew i wouldn't be quiet.

So i got up and walked to the cabin's porch, sitting on the last step and letting my head fall to my knees.

Why couldnt i be great?

Why couldnt i be in peace with myself?

Why couldnt my mom bless me?

Why couldnt my dad love me?

Why did he had to be so mean?

I was a kid for fucks sake.

"Are you okay?" I heard someone saying, that made me freeze, that voice was not from any of my sisters, was i crying so hard i woke up someone from other cabin?

"I- yes, sorry i didn't knew i was crying so hard to wake people from other cabins, im sorry"

"You didn't, i was sneaking out to train some more, and saw you, our cabins face each other"

That was...Clarisse?

I wiped my tears and look up, she was staring at me with a almost worried look

"Clarisse?"

"Yes, why are you crying?"

She sat down by my side, dropping a sword in the grass.

"Its nothing really, im fine, you dont need to bothe-"

"No, cut the crap" she stopped me mid sentence "no one ever weeps in the middle of the night out of happiness, you are not fine and im not letting you lie OR leave until you tell me what it is"

We stare at each other, and ill need to thank the night light being bad because i probably look like crap right now, im sure my eyes are red, my nose too, im probably with a very swollen face and id bet all the dracmas i own that my hair its no better than a nest of birds.

"Go on...tell me"

I layed myself in the stairs, looking at the sky, trying to think of a way to tell everything, without sounding crazy

"I dont deserve to be here, Clarisse."

"Here..where?"

"This cabin, i dont deserve to be called daughter of the goddess of wisdom, i dont deserve being here with them, my siblings they are great, more than good, great, they will do great things with themselfs, amazing writers, architects, brilliant musicians, historians, why am i here? Im not even good, why im with the great?"

"Wait wait wait" she made me sit down again and look at her "not even good? What are you talking about? Wasnt the strategy in the last capture the flag yours? Yall won, and if somebody asks me later i've never said this but that was good, some really good strategy, i was almost thinking of asking chiron to switch you teams, you were great, more than that, and now you're here telling me you are not egen good? Are you on drugs?"

"Clarisse you dont need to pretend you care that much, and my plan wasnt all that, my brother got hurt, that wasnt supose to happen, i failed him, if i was good enough he wouldnt even be there"

She had a very confused look on her face, like she really did not knew what i was talking about.

"You're not talking about the little boy you took to the infirmary and that small cut in his forearm are you? Cause that boy was far from almost dying like you are making it sound like-" she looked at my eyes, i didnt needed a mirror to have sure how i was, i've seen myself like that too much to count, everytime my dad said i wasnt good enough, sad, lifeless.

"I failed again Clarisse, im not good enough to be here, im useless, worthless"

She looked at me and did the last thing i tought she would, Clarisse hugged me.

"Dont say that, c'mon, worthless? I've seen you fight, i've seen your plans, you dont talk much but i've heard your ideas, you are far from being useless or worthless, who the fuck told you that?"

"My f- you heard me?" I looked at her, only to see a look i couldnt distinguish "what do you mean?"

She looked at her own feet, then at her sword, reflecting the moonlight.

"You really dont know?" She looks at me "i- well, i've heard you, the same way i see you everyday, thats how i know you like morning walks, sweet green grapes, baked goods...how i know you are probably the only child of Athena who has never read "the art of war", that you walk without looking at peoples faces....its weird, i've seen you so much throughout this years and it feels like this is the first time you are actually seeing me"

"But i've saw you before-"

"Thats not what i was saying, you looked at me many times, but did you ever saw me until today?"

I looked at her blinking, and after a moment of silent i said "you like dark chocolate, and lemon flavoured soda, and sneaking out to train when the harpies take their breaks, by the way you missed that, and you always ask for double the quantity of food you eat, so when you burn it you still can eat enough, by the way i stole that idea-"

She is smilling, big, really big, i think i am too.

Of course i saw Clarisse, who wouldnt, she was strong, brave, beautiful, to me was a wonder she didnt had people running to get her attention.

She got closer to me "does that mean i can-" i stopped her mid sentence again

"Maybe..."

"Im going to make you forget that "im not good enough" nonsense, belive me"

She is smilling while kissing me, and i am too.

#fanfic #lesbian #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader

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zebulontheplanet · 8 months ago

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Saw a post and it really got me thinking.

The post was talking about why don’t lower support needs, higher masking individuals even believe that higher support needs, low masking, “severely autistic” people, exist. And that got me really thinking. Because, I do think they know we exist. I just don’t think they want too.

I don’t think they want to know we exist. They know we exist, but keep us on the back burner. They live in ignorance bliss of us. I have what some people would think of as severe autism. Im nonverbal (although nonverbal later in life. But outside people don’t care about that. They see nonverbal as nonverbal), I’m intellectually disabled, need help in everyday life, etc. but I’m in the middle. I’m moderate support needs. To me, I’m not severely autistic. But to society, I am considered and seen as severely autistic because society doesn’t have the understanding of moderate autism yet. They don’t understand it. And I’ve seen more times than I can count that severe autism doesn’t exist. Not because they don’t believe in severe autism the label itself because it’s “harmful” but because they don’t believe that it’s just caused by autism. They often believe that’s it’s caused by comorbidities. Like ID, or cerebral palsy, or apraxia/dyspraxia, or mobility issues, or genetic conditions, and so on. Although none of this is bad.

They believe that autism itself can’t create severe autism. Which…isn’t true. Before, it was believed that severe autism was the only type of autism. That it was the only type that existed and if you weren’t severely autistic then you weren’t autistic. Then more research happened, then social media happened, and now..white, lower support needs, high masking, late diagnosed individuals are the majority of what’s being centered. And, that isn’t bad. We need awareness of all autism. But when one type of autism gets centered, it becomes a problem. It becomes the new norm. It becomes what everyone expects out of autism now. Which, isn’t true. Autism all of all types and traits exists. Autism of all support needs exists.

When people say severe autism doesn’t exist, they’re ignoring and saying that a BIG percentage of autistic people don’t exist. They’re saying that we aren’t real. That we aren’t on the internet, or in the communities they live in, or in their schools, or whatever. We’re everywhere. Severe autism is still a thing. It isn’t a misdiagnosis. It isn’t from comorbities, although if someone’s autism is more severe from comorbidities then that isn’t bad.

I think a lot of people need to be more aware of severe autism. And not just severe autism like me or my mutuals, or the people you see here on tumblr. But the ones with even MORE severe autism. The ones who live in group homes, residentials, institutions, and so on. The ones who aren’t on the internet. The ones who aren’t here blogging about their lives. We need to be aware of them too. We need to believe they exist, and believe that their autism is real.

Don’t erase severe or profound autism.

#zebrambles #autism #actually autism #medium support needs #actually autistic #nonverbal #actually nonverbal #high support needs #severe autism #long post #autism acceptance month #autism awareness month

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neptunes-sol-angel · 6 months ago

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Just a little reminder that everyone has a feminine and masculine side, so don't hesitate to read the messages for your masculine side too.

Paid Services | Botanica | Tip Jar

Pile One 🕺

BEYONCÉ - COZY

Right away, I’m detecting that this pile is trying to work through some bitterness and that’s ok. I get the gist that this collective is aware of this and are either accepting of it or in denial of it because of the assumption that it’s embarrassing or demeaning to feel that way. I always want to remind people that it’s okay to feel negative emotions. Having them is not what defines you but how you choose to express them is how it truly characterizes you. It feels like this brooding energy is like a seesaw or a visual representation of tug of war, because it’s happening in two different directions. This pile could be in limbo with trying to reach the other side of realizing your self-worth. There’s bitterness split into two directions. Acerbic agony over “why not me?” in terms of finding people who accept and match the love that you give to others and “why me?” when it comes to jealousy and vitriol that makes you afraid of your own potential for success and dim your light. What your feminine side is asking of you is to stop watering yourself down because you feel it’s safer that way to be under others. Take note of the vibe that you get from this channeled song because it’s time to get “cozy” with who you are and take some initiative in the lessons that you’ve been through by talking your shit. You sat with your pain long enough to know its beginning but to finally decide how YOU want to create its end. If you’re in a funk where it’s making you feel meek and want to self-sabotage, reach deep inside yourself to know that the answer isn’t to revert back to old patterns and lies that people told you to keep you stuck because they don’t want to see you grow. Get cozy with yourself because you must understand that every step of the way isn’t going to be comfortable all of the time but I feel that a lot of you are at a point where things are getting worse before they get better. It could be something external going on, but I feel that it’s mostly mental. You’re going to come out of this even stronger than before and you’re going to move differently and choose differently but also get an upgrade relating to speech. How you talk to yourself will improve, you’ll speak with more confidence, and your words will match exactly with your feelings when it comes to communicating with others. The main thing that I am seeing here is no longer trying to make accommodations that make you suffer in the end just to protect another person’s ego.

Pile Two 🕺

BEYONCÉ -MOVE

I’m sensing a lot of completion with this pile. If you’re not in this new energy yet, prepare for people making a lot of misconceptions about you. You could be accused of being aloof or have people nitpicking or trying to diagnose you based on little to no evidence. It doesn’t have to be this exact situation but what I first would like to point out is that it’s like, you’re floating down this river, unphased, and just flowing with the currents. Or that you’re water itself, becoming mutable with your form but regardless of what changes are made, you’re still water. If you’ve experienced intense feelings over people ghosting you or just not prioritizing you in the past, I’m seeing that you’ll be at a stage where you understand that what those people did wasn’t at all right and you’re no longer internalizing it with your thoughts and actions, but in other words, you’re not going to be that person anymore that’s waiting for a text. You’re not going to wait for people to act right, wait for other people’s approval, or postpone your life for people who like to play with your time. I’m getting the message that you shouldn’t stop yourself from doing whatever it is that you think about doing because “they will talk about you either way”. This could apply to promoting yourself in some way, maybe for a new job opportunity, or just taking a chance to improve your health. You may have anxiety of thinking that maybe there’s no point in trying to see what you can do for your body because you’ve been stagnant for years because of circumstances that weren’t really in your control, like finances or being dependent on a toxic parent. This could also be something else, but either way it’s like you’re afraid of what you could hear, possibly something negative or even just a “no”, but I’m hearing you can’t make that judgment without trying, because you might actually receive a yes, assistance in getting back on your feet again, or good news about your timing in getting something done before you could miss out on what’s important.

Pile Three 🕺

BEYONCÉ - CUFF IT

A rebirth is needed for this pile. There’s a lot of indulgence that feels mindless and endless because you’re seeking to satiate a need or needs but there are people who are already aware of this but are in need of confirmation for which way is the right direction to go. It’s about experiencing everything for the first time all over again. Not in a dreadful way to make you suffer, but to soothe any worries over not finding happiness if you don’t have that “one thing”. If you’ve been tested recently on remaining brave in your decision to part ways with someone but are having second doubts or the fear that you’re going to miss out, maybe that “need” that you have can be replenished by just being around your family to remind yourself that you aren’t lacking love and support around you. If you’re feeling “sexual”, maybe it isn’t sex that you necessarily need and that it’s just your soul telling you to create. If you’ve been used to seeking answers through spiritual measures but are still left confused, then maybe that’s a sign that it’s time to step back and take a break from the unseen and to come back and relearn how to go through life from just being instead of trying to know everything. Even if it isn’t those specific scenarios previously mentioned, you’re on a journey of wisdom of learning that a lot of the things that you’ve considered as losses haunting your everyday life, were not really losses, because they can be replaced by something else that’s going to lead you into falling more in love with yourself.

#divination #intuitive #psychic #pick a card #tarot #spirituality #tarotblr #pac #pick a pile #tarot readers of tumblr #the tarot community #tarot community #beyonce

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justauthoring · 8 months ago

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just hold me.

it's hard to find out the truth, but despite it; you still just want jesse.

a/n: no one will probably read this but i love jesse <3

pairing: jesse pinkman x f!white!reader

tw. for attempted sexual assault. also, you're walter white's daughter but no description of the reader is given.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure what you’re doing here.

But the tears pouring down your cheeks won’t stop, and your feet don’t stop moving beneath you. You’re just walking with no real destination. Your hands are shaking and everything hurts but you don’t want to go home to your apartment; it’s too silent. Going to your parents wasn’t an option either because then you’d just be riddled with questions. You thought about going to your uncles, but he’d be just as overbearing in a completely different way

And you certainly couldn’t go to Jesse’s.

He was the whole reason you were out here in the first place and you weren’t ready to face him.

Not yet.

You’re not sure if you ever would be.

“Oh, God…”

You take a sharp turn, not fully aware of where you’re even going. It’s late and dark and you don’t even really know what part of town you’re in, just that it’s far away enough that no one you know will stumble upon you–exactly what you want. You don’t want anyone to see you, not like this, and you can barely form a coherent thought in your own head so trying to explain your state would surely be nothing but bad.

No, it was best to be alone.

Try to sort out your thoughts.

Because what even were your thoughts?

It was one thing to find out your boyfriend was a drug dealer, but another to find out it wasn’t just the small things; which sure, were just as unsafe but still… not–not crystal meth and certainly not things as big ties to the cartel. You weren’t stupid and it wasn’t like you didn’t know who Jesse was. You’d gone to high school with him, and you knew the sort of people he hung around and the things he’d done… no. You weren’t stupid.

You’d known. Had a suspicion, even if you’d never asked. Because honestly, it didn’t really matter to you all that much. He was careful to keep it separate from you and he wasn’t like that with you. He’d never once tried to force you to try something or get you involved. There was a clear line he’d drawn and he refused to let it blur and you were okay with that, even if you shouldn’t, for the simple and plain fact that you loved him.

But the cartel was different. That was bigger, even if you didn’t understand the whole scope. That was a whole new scope of danger that didn’t settle right with you.

That you couldn’t just ignore. Couldn’t just turn the other way because of your feelings.

And to top it all off, he was doing it with your own father.

Cooking and selling meth with Walter White.

Your father.

You’re not thinking straight. You surely can’t be.

Because… because there was no way. There just couldn’t be.

But you remember everything that’s happened the past few months with him, starting when he’d been diagnosed with cancer all the way to the way him and your mother had been acting with each other.

Everything had been off. You didn’t need to still be living in the house to see that.

Skyler wouldn’t tell you, even when you pressed her on it but you knew she knew something. And now you had no doubt in your mind–she knew that your father was cooking and selling meth and…

“What the hell,” you huff, shaking your head in disbelief of the whole thing. It was crazy, plain and simple and it was entirely, without a doubt, true.

You realize somewhere along the way you’d stopped, found yourself in some sort of alley and had pressed yourself up against the wall to give yourself a minute. You’d been so upset and out of your mind that when you left Jesse’s you hadn’t grabbed a coat; you’d barely given yourself time to put on your shoes. He was coming towards you, trying to explain things, but you couldn’t handle listening to his explanation and had slammed the door shut in his face before he could reach you.

You’d heard him screaming for you but you’d gotten in your car before he could reach you and drove off, wound up in some bar to drink the thoughts away and now you’d gotten lost on your way back to your car.

And found yourself in an alley, all alone.

Pressing your palms to your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath.

What were you supposed to do now?

You let your head fall into the palms of your hands, trying to push the heavy thoughts from your mind without much luck. It isn’t until you felt a hand fall on your arm did you look up, a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes settle on a man, a few years older than you, leering down at you with a small smile.

Your lips part but no words leave your lips.

“Hey there, little lady, you okay?”

His voice is gravelly, eyes sunken despite not being that old. His skin looks pale from what you can tell in the dark and somewhat sickly, but despite that, his eyes are set firmly on your own, and that smile never wavers.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer, remembering yourself. There’s a tightening to your chest as you feel his grip tighten on you the second you move and you’re pressing your hands against the wall behind you to try to push yourself up. “S-Sorry. Long night.”

“Looks like it,” he laughs but it isn’t pleasant at all. “You look like you’ve been cryin’.”

Raising your hand, you wipe at your cheeks, pulling back only to see your smudged and ruined mascara. “Oh,” you laugh lightly, forced, glancing to your right which leads back to the street; you hadn’t realized how far you’d crawled into the alley and just how sketchy everything around you looks.

“Yeah,” you nod at him, shuffling to the right. “Th-thanks for checking on me, but I should get going.”

“Now, hold on.”

Your chest tightens, letting out a small cry as his grip turns bruising around your arm and he gives a small tug. You’re still not sober enough, wobbly on your own feet as you stumble towards him, the movement surprising you. His free hand catches you by the waist and you tense.

“It’s too late for a lady like yourself to walk home all on her own,” he moves to explain, still with that ever unnerving smile. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“No, no, really–” you argue, pressing a hand against his chest as you try to pull your arm away. He just squeezes tighter, enough to pull an actual cry from your lips as your eyes widen, the panic doubling as your heart pounds against your chest. “Please. You’re hurting me!”

“Shh,” he says, leaning in to press his face into the crook of your neck, the hand at your waist slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “It’ll feel good. I promise.”

You try to push against his chest again but he just digs his nails into your arm and then he’s shifting, slamming your back against the wall you’d been leaning against a few minutes ago. The panic seizes you completely, your inebriated mind trying to get your limbs to work enough to shove him off but your body isn’t working the way you want and your vision is blurred. His grip is tight, shifting to press your hands together above your head and using the other to grab at your shirt, pulling it up.

“Stop,” you cry, “no! Stop!”

But he doesn’t listen. And no one else does if there even is someone else in the alley with you.

You’re completely alone.

His lips ghost across your neck and you feel like you’re going to be sick, the brick of the building biting into your skin and his nails digging into your wrist, harsh enough to draw blood. He’s raised your shirt enough to reveal your bra and his hands are working fast to unclasp the back, giving a tight squeeze before his fingers drift across the expanse of your stomach and around to the back.

You’re crying, you realize. Somewhere along the way the tears had started, pouring profusely down your cheeks, sobs wrenching from your lips as you’re defiled. The weight of him against you is suffocating and you can’t breathe properly.

You feel your bra loosen around your chest and you cry, trying to fight his grip on your hands with a new struggle, before suddenly the weight disappears off of you. You see a blur rush past you but you barely pay mind, your legs giving out beneath you as you sink to the ground, knees coming to your chest as you let out a cry.

None of your body listens to you and you can’t move even as you hear a cry and a familiar voice yelling. There’s a loud thud, followed by a repeated lighter thud, and you try to force yourself to move, push your body, and a small cry leaves your lips as you do and suddenly there’s a body in front of you.

At first you’re worried it’s the man but there’s a familiar voice calling for your name and then you recognize the blue eyes staring back at you.

Oh.

“Jesse��”

His name leaves your lips in a broken whisper and his face twists, a curse leaving his lips as he gently grabs you by the waist, pulling you towards him. “It’s okay,” he breathes, voice soft, gentle and it’s soothing in a way you can’t right describe. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

He’s wrapping something warm around you and you realize how cold you are in that moment, relishing in the warmth that envelopes you as you grab onto him. “Jesse,” you cry, this time your voice stronger but in a way that’s heartbreaking as your voice pitches and cracks. “Jesses, he… I couldn’t…”

“I know,” he huffs and he sounds mad. Is he mad at you? “I… it’s okay. He can’t hurt you, okay? Let me take you home, okay? Let’s go home.”

You grip onto him tightly, scared he’ll disappear from your own hands. “Yours,” you whisper, “i wanna go… to yours.”

He nods, even if you don’t properly process it and then his right arm is wounding around your waist, pulling against him as he slips his right arm under your knees. He holds tight but in a way that isn’t anything like the man before and it makes you feel entirely different too.

Safe.

It makes you feel safe.

Enough that finally, your eyes fall shut

When you open your eyes next, you’re in a bed.

And your mind is a lot more clear.

You blink, recognizing the ceiling, and then you’re pushing yourself up. You realize that you’re in one of Jesse’s shirts and a pair of your leggings, meaning he must’ve changed you when he brought you here. You’re thankful for that, and as you prop yourself upwards, you notice the bruises lining your wrists and the one on your arm and frown, touching it faintly, hissing at the pain that radiates as a response.

Then, a pair of footsteps pull your attention towards the door.

Jesse’s eyes widen when he sees you awake and he’s rushing forward, setting the cup of water on the table next to the bed as an afterthought. He falls on the edge of the bed and he moves to reach for you, before suddenly halting, his eyes widening and moves to pull back.

You grab for him before he can, hand falling on his and squeezing as his eyes snap up to yours.

“Thank you,” you whisper, quiet. “For saving me.”

“Fuck,” Jesse curses, face twisting. “I went looking for you everywhere… I couldn’t find you and then I found your fucking car but you weren’t anywhere near it. It wasn’t until I heard you crying that I found you and the sight of that… that man on you–like that, I just—fuck… I could've killed him.”

Letting go of his hand, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“I went to a bar after… after I left and drank too much,” you explain, eyes downcast. “I wasn’t thinking straight and I ended up in that alley and he just… that man just–” You can’t finish your words.

Jesse and you are quiet for a moment.

Then, Jesse shifts. “Listen… um… I understand if you, well—don’t want to see me anymore. I can bring you home and then go find your car for you. It’s no problem. I just…” He hesitates, scratching at his head as he avoids your gaze. “I just—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, especially with Mr. White too or–or for you to get hurt like you did… I should’ve–that never should’ve happened.”

“Jesse,” you whisper, shaking your head. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

He frowns, brows furrowing and he just huffs; “yes, it was…”

It wasn’t. You want to argue but you know he won’t listen.

So you move on.

“I do want to see you still.”

Blinking, Jesse’s eyes snap to yours.

“I know I shouldn’t,” you explain, letting your hands fall into your lap. “I know I should be… be angry or at least scared… but I’m not. I was, in the moment. But I’m not scared of you, I could never be. And I’m not angry or upset either. I just… I just want you.”

You turn to look at Jesse, begging with your eyes and he turns to look at you, hesitating–like he knows this is wrong.

So, so very wrong.

But you just look at him, pleading and he caves even if he shouldn’t. Because he just wanted you too.

So much.

So he caves and he reaches for you, arms grabbing you as he pulls you towards him, into his lap and against his chest and holds you as you cry and cling onto him.

And he never lets go.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman imagine #aaron paul

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mariacallous · 2 months ago

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A little bit of alcohol was once thought to be good for you. However, as scientific research advances, we’re gaining a clearer picture of alcohol’s effect on health—especially regarding cancer.

The complex relationship between alcohol and cancer was recently highlighted in a new report from the American Association for Cancer Research. The report’s findings are eye-opening.

The authors of the report estimate that 40 percent of all cancer cases are associated with “modifiable risk factors”—in other words, things we can change ourselves. Alcohol consumption being prominent among them.

Six types of cancer are linked to alcohol consumption: head and neck cancers, esophageal cancer, liver cancer, breast cancer, colorectal cancer, and stomach cancer.

The statistics are sobering. In 2019, more than one in 20 cancer diagnoses in the West were attributed to alcohol consumption, and this is increasing with time. This figure challenges the widespread perception of alcohol as a harmless social lubricant and builds on several well-conducted studies linking alcohol consumption to cancer risk.

But this isn’t just about the present—it’s also about the future. The report highlights a concerning trend: rising rates of certain cancers among younger adults. It’s a plot twist that researchers like me are still trying to understand, but alcohol consumption is emerging as a potential frontrunner in the list of causes.

Of particular concern is the rising incidence of early-onset colorectal cancer among adults under 50. The report notes a 1.9 percent annual increase between 2011 and 2019.

While the exact causes of this trend are still being investigated, research consistently shows a link between frequent and regular drinking in early and mid-adulthood and a higher risk of colon and rectal cancers later in life. But it’s also important to realize this story isn’t a tragedy.

It’s more of a cautionary tale with the potential for a hopeful ending. Unlike many risk factors for cancer, alcohol consumption is one we can control. Reducing or eliminating alcohol intake can lower the risk, offering a form of empowerment in the face of an often unpredictable disease.

The relationship between alcohol and cancer risk generally follows a dose-response pattern, meaning simply that higher levels of consumption are associated with greater risk. Even light to moderate drinking has been linked to increased risk for some cancers, particularly breast cancer.

Yet it’s crucial to remember that while alcohol increases cancer risk, it doesn’t mean everyone who drinks will develop cancer. Many factors contribute to cancer development.

Damages DNA

The story doesn’t end with these numbers. It extends to the very cells of our bodies, where alcohol’s journey begins. When we drink, our bodies break down alcohol into acetaldehyde, a substance that can damage our DNA, the blueprint of our cells. This means that alcohol can potentially rewrite our DNA and create changes called mutations, which in turn can cause cancer.

The tale grows more complex when we consider the various ways alcohol interacts with our bodies. It can impair nutrient and vitamin absorption, alter hormone levels, and even make it easier for harmful chemicals to penetrate cells in the mouth and throat. It can affect the bacteria in our guts, the so-called microbiome, that we live with and is important for our health and well-being.

Alcohol consumption is also linked to other aspects of our own health and lifestyle and it’s important not just to consider this alone. Tobacco use and smoking, for instance, can significantly amplify the cancer risks associated with alcohol. Genetic factors play a role too, with certain variations affecting how our bodies metabolize (break down) alcohol.

Physical inactivity and obesity, often associated with heavy drinking, also separately increase cancer risks but on top of alcohol makes this much worse. Despite this, misconceptions persist. The type of alcoholic beverage, be it beer, wine, or spirits, doesn’t significantly alter the cancer risk. It’s the ethanol (the chemical name for alcohol) itself that’s carcinogenic (cancer-causing).

And while some studies have suggested that red wine might have protective effects against certain diseases, there’s no clear evidence that it helps prevent cancer.

The potential risks of alcohol consumption probably outweigh any potential benefits. The takeaway is not that we should never enjoy a glass of wine or a beer with friends. Rather, it’s about being aware of the potential risks and making choices that align with our health goals. It’s about moderation, mindfulness, and informed decisionmaking.

Alcohol has lots of effects not just in terms of causing cancer. A recent large study of more than 135,000 older drinkers in the UK has shown that the more people drink, the higher the risk of death from any cause.

These and similar findings underscore the importance of public awareness and education about the potential risks associated with alcohol consumption. As our understanding of the alcohol-cancer link grows, it becomes increasingly clear that what many consider a harmless indulgence may have more significant health implications than previously thought.

Unfortunately, not many people appear to be aware of these risks. In the US, around half of people don’t know that alcohol increases the risk of cancer. Clearly, a lot of work needs to be done to overcome this lack of awareness.

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evenmorefatallyobsessed · 7 days ago

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I make four Milf Models on the list (and a Fifth on in Shiranui) and then I go and find Six more 'Mature' Gems! Dammit...

Anyways let me introduce the Six new candidates.

1.) Cattleya (Queen's Blade)

Not gonna like, I know noithing besides that she has huge tits, glasses and is a blacksmith with hella muscle... That is more then enough! I would make her son and Jaune friends, and Cattleya is the only woman the Arc trust to forge their weapons and upkeep them. Her son Rana is one of the only people Jaune trust around his sisters.

2.) Kie Kamado (Demon Slayer)

So truth be told, I have not watched Demon Slayer... And this woman and her four dead kids are why! Like THE FUQ!? Jesus man this crap broke my heart, I... I just moved right along to happy anime cuz that shit makes me sad as fuck... So yeah they would live in Ansel, and she would be Juniper's best friend and one of the very few women he can understand the sheer difficulties of raising a small team of children. But worst, because she has to do it alone... Then Grimm attack, and while everyone else is trying to protect their own. Little Jaune rushes to help his best friend Tanjiro and his siblings! Auraless and with only his families sword in hand that he can barely wield the two boys actually manage to kill a Beowulf and proceed to get them to the safety of the Arc House.

3.) Shizu Shinazugawa (Demon Slayer)

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!!! Seriously this woman somehow had a worst death then Kie! SHE ATE HER KIDS!!! WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL!!! OH! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT SHE WAS GETTEN BEATEN BY HER HUSBAND!!! God Dammit, at this point I'm starting to think it's a good thing pig boy was raised by boars. If his mom had been with him instead of abandoning him in thew woods (I assume) she'd probably be dead too! Much less lightening whiney bitch I swear don't give him a tragic backstory too! I do not want to like him... As for shizu, Imma play the Cardin card, and say the two older brothers are bullies in Ansel. Lashing out at others because of their abusive father and of course Jaune is a very ripe target, the envy of the pair because of his kind strong father. Jaune is mad, but after talking to his sisters he decides to invite the boys over to dinner, and try to be friends, after all like his mom says, friends are just strangers you haven't met yet. And besides... Their like him and Tanjiro, he heard they have a lot of siblings too. They should make a club together! It is as little Jaune is having these thoughts that he stumbles upon it... then father beating them, them and their poor mom! And much like with the Ursa Jaune rushes in. And gets beaten within a inch of his life, but doesn't stop, grabbing forks, spoons anything he can get his hands on... Telling them to run, to get his dad. Papa Arc does come forward and what he finds is his son, bloody, beaten barely able to stand, but standing he is, and protecting the poor lady with a broken leg from her evil husband... And then the man is gone, his head taken, the Arc Patriarch not hesitating for even a second.

4.) Ruka Rengoku (Demon Slayer)

'It is the obligation of those born strong to defend the weak. Don't ever forget that..'

That Fucking Line! That Fucking Line Right There Makes Her Hotter Then The Other Two! Oh and what do you know, another piece of shit husband!

Okay, so I get he only turned piece of shit cuz she died bu-NO! You Know what, Fuck that Your Son Died Cuz You Couldn't Step Up And Live Up To Your Wives Words! Fuck You!!! That Drunk Bastard Insulted her memory and made her have to suffer meeting her son FAR TOO EARLY!!!

There is no way this woman doesn't hate her husband from beyond the grave! So here what would happen, Shinjuro would snap earlier then like when his wife is first diagnosed with the disease. At first he tries to stay strong but then begins to drink, then gets pissed when told nothing can be done!

And then in his denial he tries to force them to leave to Atlas, to hopefully find a cure or way to treat her... But Ruka refuses, Ansel needs them, negativity has been on the rise and Grimm have shown up more often. So he begins to drink and rant, and rave and Ruka watches her husband betray both himself and her faith in him.

And then he leaves, taking her with him one night, in desperation kidnapping his own wife against her will, her body far too weak to resist to take her to Atlas forcibly if needed. He uses a favor Papa and Mama Arc owe him to watch his kids while he's gone (Lying and saying he convinced Ruka)

And it is as he was gone that Ansel was attacked, his sons forced to fight, children like them, Jaune, little Tanjiro and the Shinazugawa brothers barely managing to take his place, but not without injury.

When he returns, he isn't met with scorn, nor blame... Not from anyone, except his wife! Ruka will not forgive him, and would rather die alone then married to him... He leaves, bitter angry but knowing she was right. And it was as this was happening that her son brings Jaune to her, the boy noticing several cuts and bruises she'd received from her forceful travels... He reaches out, and uses the power he discovered while the held off the Grimm.

The power that let mere kids like them fight and barely make up the difference her Ex-Husbands absence... His Semblance, Aura Amplification, every doctor had told her her disease wasn't treatable because her body simply lacked the strength to fight it, her immune system was too too compromised and her body too fragile by that point to maintain.

But Jaune's power, it's strength was one of a nature to empower others, to share with them his strength, his vigor, his will and soul, and Jaune wouldn't stop sharing his strength until it was enough to save her!

It was the logic of a simply youth, if he could kill monsters as big as Grimm, he refused to let small ones so tiny and weak take one of his friends moms! The same woman who told him he could be a huntsman! No! That said it was his duty to be one! Well What Kinda Huntsman Couldn't Save a mother!

5.) Rinko Iori (Gundam... Apparently -///-)

I...I did not know she was from a anime... I firmly thought she was a hentai mom... But no, apparently she is from Gundam. Well, I think I've said enough and these pictures hopefully speak for themselves...

I'd say she is a Argus mom, and helped Saphron and Terra navigate raising their first kid.

6.) Mirelia Q Melromarc

She Is A Queen! (Literally!) but no... Like seriously she is best girl, she showed up and everything, oh everything just turned pure euphoria for me. And God Damn She hated her husband! I wish they went more in on how thoroughly pissed she was in the anime like they did in the light novel.

Seriously a fucked up daughter and husband... just... Fuck man, and seriously FUCK BITCH For What She did! (If you read the Web Novel you know what I'm talking about) And fuck Trash too! Y'know it was so he could have a redemption Arc.

Fuck that, as far as I'm concerned those two need death like I need air. Naofumi is her (Only) daughter's fiancée. Which means she's in need of a new consort, a noble, strong, kind one who has a sharp wit.

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omnium-gatherums · 2 months ago

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Hmm do u think there’s any like signs of a good did therapist? things that stick out so u know they’re good and credible. any ways to tell u think

I thought I remembered making a post about this ages ago, but I can't find it, so.

(CDD = complex dissociative disorders, which includes DID, some people with OSDD, Partial DID, and some people diagnosed with unspecified dissociative disorders who may just be people with one of the other three diagnoses instead)

🟢 Good:

Understands that DID is most often subtle and difficult to notice; that most people with DID do not present with obvious, drastic personality changes

Treats each alter equally, doesn't treat any one alter as "The" "actual/real/true/main" "person"; doesn't try to force one alter/"The Host" to be the only alter to present in therapy/etc.

Understands that functional multiplicity is a completely real and valid way to heal and recover with DID; that you do not need to fuse all alters into "one" in order to recover and heal along with having DID

Adapts/adjusts to the unique language that you use for yourself/your system/alters/etc.

Doesn't make treating you as a system (if that's how you want to be treated) contingent on having a CDD diagnosis. By this I mean that regardless of if you have a CDD or not, regardless of any kind of syscourse, is this the way you exist? Is this how you live your life - how you and other parts/alters/headmates/etc. in your system live your lives? A good therapist should treat y'all the ways you want to be treated and not deny you the rights to exist the ways you do on the basis of whether or not you have a CDD

Do you feel safe around them? Comfortable? Of course having a new therapist at first is difficult and it will take time to build trust and being comfortable around your therapist, but there is difference between the beginning stages of getting to know someone and not really trusting them yet versus feeling actively uncomfortable around them/unsafe. If you actively feel unsafe/uncomfortable with your therapist, this might be a sign that they might not be a good one.

Would you feel sad if you no longer had them as a therapist?

Is willing to admit when they're wrong/willing to admit when they've made mistakes

🔴 Bad:

Won't diagnose DID because they "didn't see you switch" (seeing somebody switch is not a requirement for a DID diagnosis)

Won't diagnose DID because "trauma wasn't bad/wasn't that bad/wasn't bad enough"

Won't diagnose DID because they expect extremely drastic personality changes

Doesn't "believe" in "repressed memories"/that you can have amnesia for trauma and later remember that trauma

Dismisses memories that you claim you had amnesia before; even if there is true reason to believe that your suspicions aren't correct, a good therapist would not immediately be dismissive and minimize your concerns. There are ways to navigate trying to tell someone if you truly feel their memories aren't adding up, and dismissing them and minimizing their concerns/suspicions is not one of them

Treats "the host" (if you have one) as "the actual/real/true/main person"

Tries to force final fusion; thinks that final fusion is the only way to heal/that it's the "real/true" way to heal

Tries to force certain language onto you/your system/etc. (such as forcing you to call your alters parts when you don't personally feel comfortable with that)

Are you afraid of them? Do you feel unsafe around them?

Do you dread going to therapy - not because therapy itself can be draining due to talking about heavy things, but because of seeing them/speaking to them/because you dread seeing your therapist/etc.?

If you had access to a different therapist, would you change therapists in a heartbeat? In this hypothetical, they won't cost any more or less money and nothing else will be a problem and nothing is preventing you from seeing the new therapist.

Tries to push medication

The most important rule is to trust yourself.

If a therapist doesn't feel like a good fit for you, if you have your doubts, if something feels off, DO NOT HESITATE to seek out a different therapist. You don't have to find a reason to "justify" finding a new therapist - you can seek out a different therapist for ANY reason. Any reason is a valid reason. Yes, any reason, even if it truly is a "stupid" and "unreasonable" reason.

For us personally, we know that our therapist is good because:

We feel safe and comfortable around her. Enough to have opened up about things we otherwise tell NO-ONE

We feel seen. We feel like she truly "sees" "us"

We feel safe and comfortable to open up to her and talk to her about when she's said something that upset us, and we do talk about it! We talk it out in a healthy and safe and productive way and we come to an understanding and we feel better when we do

We actively look forward to therapy and seeing her and talking about things with her

We truly have improved, our denial as truly gotten so much better and overall we really have been improving ever so slowly

Sometimes you're in a position where sometimes you have no choice but to "settle" for a therapist even if they aren't perfect. That's okay too. However, sometimes having no therapist is better than having a therapist that actively makes your mental health worse. Never, ever, ever settle for a therapist who makes your mental health worse. It's better to have no therapist than to have a therapist who is actively making your life/mental health/etc. worse.

There are definitely way more red flags and green flags, but this is what I've got for now.

#inbox #my posts #dissociative identity disorder #cdd system #actuallyosdd #complex dissociative disorders #did system #osdd system #actuallydid #polyfragmented did #polyfragmented system

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fahye · 1 year ago

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book recs: august '23

(I want to try and do these posts more frequently because I DEARLY miss yelling about books, txitter is [poop emoji]-ing, and bluesky is promising but I don't have much of an audience there yet)

ok! stuff freya has read recently and enjoyed:

A FIRE BORN OF EXILE by aliette de bodard -- did you enjoy nirvana in fire? this is for YOU. it's a revenge story set in aliette's xuya space opera universe, with a pile of complicated characters with mixed or obscured motives, a sapphic romance, and just really incredible use of worldbuilding and politics.

THE SLEEPING SOLDIER by aster glenn gray -- I am an enormous sucker for aster's historical m/m romances, and this one was incredible. a union soldier goes to sleep in 1865 and wakes up in 1965, and his new college roommate has a series of gay crises about it. sweet, exuberant, well researched. both a wonderful romance and an absolutely fascinating examination of male friendships and homosexuality in two different historical time periods.

A DEADLY EDUCATION by naomi novik -- doing a reread of the first two scholomance books before I dive into the third. these books are so disgustingly tailored to ME, a huge fan of magical academia stories with a truly deliciously unnecessary level of worldbuilding detail about how the magic works (and how the school is trying to kill you).

BATH HAUS by p.j. vernon -- a man goes to a gay bathhouse, cheating on his partner, and narrowly escapes being murdered. things get worse from there. I can only recommend this to you if you enjoy thrillers that STRESS YOU THE FUCK OUT, which I normally don't; I nearly put it down a couple of times, but I HAD to know what was going on. it's a masterclass in propulsive tension and does some really cool things with unreliable narration.

HAVEMERCY by jaida jones and danielle bennett -- seven hundred years late to this party, but OH MY GOD. this is the completely gay political/military fantasy of my dreams (the YEARNING), plus there are magical-mechanical dragons. I will be devouring the other books in this series in short order.

EVERY VERSION OF YOU by grace chan -- a beautiful and fascinating literary scifi book about humanity and family and love, and being given the choice to upload your consciousness to a digital paradise as the planet dies around you. unsurprisingly it deals with some heavy stuff, but it's fantastic. and australian!

A THIEF AND A GENTLEMAN by arden powell -- another m/m romance in arden's flos magicae series. the title alone is probably enough to tell you why I enjoyed it, but I especially liked the way it kept subverting my expectations in favour of more chewy emotional honesty and complexity.

STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER by fern brady -- a memoir by a scottish comedian about being diagnosed with autism in her thirties, and her life up to that point. funny and chaotic and an all-around amazing read. I loved fern on taskmaster and I love her even more now.

#book recs

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writeyouin · 1 month ago

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How about spidey with s/o who has venom as their parasite (i can't spell today) that helps them fight crime.

Spiderman X Reader - Venom and Spidey Sitting in a Tree

A/N - This is just a few drabbles, so pick the spiderman of your choice and have at it.

Warnings - Small cancer mention.

Rating - T

You and Peter had been dating for a while now, and in that time the two of you had never been very good at hiding your respective secrets.

On any given day, the two of you could be on a date, and if he got an alert about a villain or crime, he would make an excuse to leave, like he forgot he had an event at the school, or he had picked up an extra shift at his new job, or he had a bad case of diarrhoea. Honestly, with so much crime, the excuses were getting worse, and sometimes, he couldn't think of anything else.

Then, when you had been infected? Gifted? Either way, when the parasite Venom chose you as his host, you also went into a line of heroics, though you leaned more into being an anti-hero, helping people where you could but also helping yourself. Besides, it was hard to stay a pure hero when Venom needed to feast on human brains.

Either way, you also began making excuses. You would leave a date because your fake 'friend' was going through a breakup and needed you, or you had to help your friend's kids with a bake sale, or you had a bad case of diarrhoea. Honestly, with so much crime, your excuses were getting worse, and sometimes, you couldn't think of anything else.

Then, things got complicated.

Having seen Venom (you) bite the head of a villain, Spiderman jumped into a fray with you, wherein the two of you nearly killed eachother. It didn't matter that you didn't want to fight the hero, he wouldn't let you go without trying to arrest you and you couldn't have that. Besides, half of your thoughts were also Venom's and Venom very much wanted to squash the annoying red bug.

Later, when your relationship with Peter was getting strained, the two of you decided to come clean with each other.

"I'm really Spiderman-" "I'm Venom-" The two of you confessed simultaniously, then you parted from one another, Peter getting ready to fight, and Venom covering your body in his exo-skeletal armour, leaving only your face free.

Had it not been for your feelings for one another, the two of you would have fought again, yet when you begged for a chance to explain yourself, Peter allowed it.

You told him that you had recently been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of cancer, and without Venom, you would die. You also explained that without phenethylamine, Venom would die and he got that from brains. You didn't want to kill people, but they were murderers or worse.

"Phenethylamine?!" Peter said angrily. "You can get that in chocolate!"

"What?" You breathed, and then you got angry, yelling at yourself. "VENOM! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

'Chocolate is nice, but killing is nicer.'

"NOT FOR ME!"

'What's not to like? Beheading, fun. Food, tasty. Plus, pile of heads, pile of bodies.' He chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating in your skull.

"(Y/N)?" Peter said your name uncertainly, and you held up a finger, indicating you weren't done talking to yourself.

Eventually, you and Venom came to a silent deal. He would eat more chocolate but if you found somebody truly depraved he could eat them. He also got to eat somebody on the last week of each month, so long as it was kept secret and Peter never found out.

It probably wasn't a good idea to keep that kind of secret, but hey, some people deserved to be eaten and you didn't see everything as black and white as Peter did, so what he didn't know wouldn't hurt you.

With that, you begged Peter's forgiveness, told him a half-truth, that you didn't know about the chocolate and that you wouldn't let Venom kill anyone else. Meanwhile, in your head, Venom was laughing. He had taken a liking to Peter, but he liked eating Brains even more and if it was to be a secret then he would enjoy what you silly humans called a 'guilty pleasure.'

Going against his better judgment, Peter agreed to trust you. From there, there were no more excuses to leave dates early. If there was a crime, you and Peter headed there together, fighting side by side. However, there were times when you had your own quiet time with Venom, living your secret life away from Peter.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #Venom and spidey sitting in a tree #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #marvel #mcu

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sl-vega · 7 months ago

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✧.* DREAMS LOST, LOVE FOUND

pairing: Chigiri Hyouma x [IDOL!] Reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint, oneshot, strangers to lovers, strangers to friends to lovers, pre-bluelock au, canon compliant

synopsis: in which two former geniuses bond over their potentially lost dreams (or in which two strangers develop feelings by making fun of cheesy news articles about themselves)

CW: potentially ooc chigiri, possible innaccuracies with vocal chord paralysis conditions/symptoms

"(Y/N) (L/N): A Bright Star that Burned out too Quickly"

"Idol (Y/N) Retiring?!"

"ASRUN's (L/N)'s Career Over?! Get the latest scoop now!"

You scrolled through the magazines in the waiting room. So many cheesy tabloids talking about your latest concert, and possibly last. You froze up on stage, and your voice just didn't work. The gossip columns came up with so many reasons, ranging from fairly possible to completely bizarre. But they all seemed to come to the same conclusion.

Your career was over.

Ended, finished, decimated, completely and utterly over.

And deep down, you knew that. The doctors said that there was a chance that you could recover, even if it didn't occur naturally, surgery was always an option.

You had recently been diagnosed with vocal chord paralysis, which prohibited your ability to talk and sing. And no singing meant no concerts.

No concerts meant no more performing.

No more performing meant that you couldn't be an idol anymore.

You were told your worsened condition had something to do with your hectic rehearsal schedule, and how you pushed yourself to the point of self-harm during practice. Suzuki, the nurse that had been assigned to assist you, insisted that you come to the clinic for weekly check-ups and vocal warm ups.

Your agency managed to fund all of this because they wanted you back performing with the rest of your group members as soon as possible.

But you weren't sure if you could even continue to perform. You could deny it all you wanted, but you weren't in shape to be an idol anymore.

So here you are, rotting in a waiting room, waiting for your parents to come and get you. Once a musical sensation, once hailed as the pride of the idol industry.

Now I'm nothing more than a helpless patient.

You leaned back in your chair, a random sports article in your hand. You hadn't paid any mind to what it was about when you picked it up, all you knew was that it wasn't about you and your doomed career, and that was all you needed.

But your parents weren't coming anytime soon, and you needed to kill some time, so reading a couple pages wouldn't hurt. You glanced at the front cover. It appeared to be some local newspaper that covered soccer teams in the prefecture.

"Chigiri Hyouma: The Red Leopard!"

The front page had those words printed out in a vibrant pink font. You snorted, it would be one thing if this was about some world-class pro, but all this fuss over a high school kid? The picture on the front page wasn't the best either, it was a blur of bright red hair and you could make out what seemed to be a jersey.

But you couldn't discern a clear image of his face though. So naturally, out of curiosity, you had to flip the page.

Chigiri Hyouma huh? You heard that name mentioned somewhere before. You remembered passing by a few girls a couple of months ago that couldn't seem to shut up about him.

Please, he's probably just some amateur that happens to be somewhat good looking, there's no way he's actually all that-

But, it certainly wouldn't hurt to read about him a little more...

And so you did just that, flipping to the next page due to your insatiable curiosity about this Chigiri fellow.

Let's see what you're all about Mr. Red Leopard-

You finally flipped the page not expecting much, but then you were greeted by a very flattering image of the very subject that peaked your interest.

Holy fuck he's really pretty

Luscious red locks, bright pink eyes that you could get lost in, gentle, feminine features yet he still looked so god damn handsome?!

Your eyes widened as a blush crept up to your face. What was this guy doing playing soccer?! He could've easily been a model, or an idol, or a movie star, you weren't even that pretty what the actual fu-

You had to stop your train of thought. You weren't seriously crushing on a photo of some stranger were you?

Yet, against your better judgment, you continued reading the article, it listed a few details such as his stats, position, and his high school among other.

You were consuming all of this information at an oddly fast rate. Why was this guy so captivating to you?

Before you knew it you had sped through the article. And you had somehow memorized everything on those few pages.

God, I'm pathetic...

You rubbed your temples and sighed, you put the article down, and you were about to read a different magazine about something other than your new found infatuation, but as your hand was about to reach to some political newspaper, your gaze quickly shifted to another photo of a familiar red head.

Another article about him?

Looks like someone's local celebrity...

You moved your hand away from the previous paper you were about to pick up, and you exchanged the current article in your hand for the other one about your newest subject of interest.

Surely one more magazine about him wouldn't hurt....

The front cover was a clearer photo of Chigiri, but it wasn't the happiest. It was a picture of him leaning against one of his teammates for support as they escorted him off the field.

"The Red Leopard's Career: OVER?!"

It was from the same local paper that you were reading earlier, seemed the editors had a soft spot for him.

"Chigiri Hyouma damages his leg in his most recent match?! Further statements are awaited from his family, could this be the end of the genius speedster?"

You sighed at the writer's attempt to dramatize the situation, surely Chigri was in pain. Having something you're so passionate about being taken away my your own physical limitations. You definitely knew the feeling.

The feeling of your dream being snatched right before your eyes. The feeling of a critical condition with some complicated-sounding name being the only thing keeping you away from your goal.

He's just like me...

Wait- what were you thinking? First you ogle at a bunch of photos at him, now you're coming up with a bunch of weird parasocial fantasies about how the two of you actually have some things in common?!

I need to get a grip...

You absentmindedly flipped to the next page of article, somewhere you had made peace in the back of your mind about your attraction to the boy. You were like some little school girl, crushing on some cute actor or model that you saw in fashion magazines.

Of course you were soon snapped out of that trance by an unfamiliar voice.

"Didn't know I was such a big deal that a world-class idol would be reading about me."

You lifted your head to the source of the voice, standing in front to you was a young man around your age leaning against a crutch.

Of course before you noticed any of that, you saw the same red hair, gorgeous pink eyes, and soft features that you had been religiously staring at for the past hour.

Holy shit it's actually him.

Holy shit, he knows who I am

HOLY SHIT CHIGIRI HYOUMA KNOWS WHO I AM-

You had a whirlwind of thoughts about the situation. And you had made a countless amount of observations about him. His hair was longer than it was in the pictures, he looked a lot leaner too, but taller as well.

You were probably shamelessly checking him out right about now, but who could blame you? If it wasn't for the crutch, and the evident exhaustion on his face, you would've thought he was an angel rather than a patient.

And so you did what you always did when confronted by an incredibly attractive person.

You panicked.

Am I checking him out? I'm probably checking him out, I should look away. But what if that's rude?! Should I continue making eye contact? Or should I avoid it?! WHY DIDN'T THEY TEACH ME HOW TO TALK TO BOYS WHEN I WAS A TRAINEE?!-

"It's rude to stare you know."

He had nonchalantly said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Oh god, even his voice was gorgeous

"Sorry..."

You muttered, looking down at the floor, averting his vivid eyes using any means necessary.

Great, now he probably thinks I'm a creep, nice going...

"Nah it's fine, sorry if I startled you when I came over, I recognized you 'cuz my sister's a fan, and you looked so engrossed in that article about me so I was pretty curious."

You simply muttered a quiet "Oh" in return.

Why am I like this?! He's trying to make an effort to talk to me, and I'm not even contributing at all!

He moved closer to you, he sat himself down on one of the seats close to you, and pulled out another sports magazine with his face on it.

"I never quite liked that one author that you're reading right now, has a habit of exaggerating the least important details and not giving the full story."

He handed the paper he was holding to you.

"This one's one of my personal favorites."

He smiled and handed the magazine to you. Your hands brushed, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His hands were really soft and gentle.

You took the article from his hand and opened it, your eyes greeted by a huge headlines in all caps; "Chigiri; RISING STAR OF THE FOOTBALL WORLD!"

You couldn't help but snort at the title, these editors were really something else.

"Cheesy I know, but it's better than most."

You giggled again, flipping through the pages of the booklet in your hands. You had pointed to a paragraphs that you had found amusing, to which Chigiri had said "Not everyone is a famous idol you know, some of us locals have to take whatever we can get!"

Next thing you knew, the two of you were talking like two old friends, giggling over silly comments and misconceptions that the media had about the two of you.

You didn't know how, but much time had passed, and quite frankly, you didn't care, Chigiri was charming, and rather fun to talk to.

Now, you were showing him a tabloid about some dating rumour about you and some model that your agency had done a collab with.

"Seriously? One slightly suggestive photo and now they think the two of you are hooking up? Wouldn't your managers be scrambling to cover that up? Doesn't it ruin your "idol" image or somethin'?"

"The higher ups at my job were trying to cover it up before realizing that this sort of publicity was actually pretty positive for my image."

You laughed as you pointed to a few more photos of you and said model. It was nice, being able to laugh about this with someone, it was nice, letting the pain go away, even for a little while. But, Chigiri was a lot more than just a distraction at this point.

Suddenly your phone buzzed.

"Sorry, let me check this real quick."

You took your phone out of your pocket, and it turned out that your father was outside of the clinic waiting for you. You tried to hide the disappointment on your face. You didn't want to leave just yet, not when you were finally making some progress with Chigiri.

But, your dad definitely wouldn't take it well if you wanted to stay out later with a boy, a new boy no less.

You sighed, shoving the device back into your pocket.

"I take it that you need to leave now?" Chigiri asked, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, or maybe you were just super delusional, but it almost sounded like he was disappointed that you had to leave.

"Yeah, sorry..."

"It was nice meeting you, by the way."

He held out his hand.

"Chigiri Hyouma, but you probably know that by now."

You were confused by the gesture at first, you certainly did know his name by now, so why was he doing this?

Oh right, I was too busy crushing on him, so we never formerly introduced ourselves...

You placed your hand in his, reciprocating the handshake.

"(L/N) (Y/N)."

He smiled as you got up, your hand still intertwined with his, you felt butterflies in your stomach, and you almost felt your heart jump out of your body."

You really have me under your spell, Chigiri Hyouma...

#chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #bluelock x reader #bluelock x y/n #bluelock x you #bluelock #reader insert

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mommahughes19-23 · 3 months ago

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Even Though I'm Leaving - E.E

youtube

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of cancer, grief, DO NOT READ IF THIS WOULD TRIGGER YOU!

Based off of attached song/my personal journey fighting cancer!

"SHES FUCKING GONE DUDE - SHE'S GONE AND I CAN'T BRING HER BACK." Ethan screams out as he clutches the #73 jersey he had got you for your senior prom gift, the summer before you would both start at UMICH.

6 months, 26 weeks, 182 days, 4,380 hours, 26,280 minutes, 15,768,000 seconds ;

that's how long Ethan has been hurting ; how long his world has been flipped upside-down for ; how long he hasn't been able to properly function as a human being, including basic tasks. Who could blame him though... most importantly it had been 6 months to the day that you had left this world. You and Ethan had met your junior year of high school, you had transferred that year to Bellerose Composite High School, Ethan being the first person you met as he was in most of your classes. He was also the one out of his friend group to suggest you sit with them at lunch, and by the time junior prom rolled around it had been 6 months with Ethan and you knew then he was the one.

Unfortunately that was also the year that things took a HUGE turn, as that would be the same year that you had been diagnosed with stage 2 ovarian cancer. That was also the first time in your entire time knowing Ethan that you decided to shut him out. To text him and tell him unfortunately you had some stuff come up and wouldn't be around much for a little while. To say Ethan was confused and hurt when he tried to call you minutes after reading that text and you sent him straight to voicemail, he decided he would give you time. Meanwhile your brother and him texted all the time and you could see what toll it was taking on him to have to keep your condition from Ethan.

"Sweetie, you're going to have to face him sooner or later." your mom says from the other side of your room door. Since getting the news you had began to isolate yourself more and more, there was no point in trying anymore when you weren't sure how long you had to try. "Well I choose later thanks, now if I can get back to planning what flowers I want on my headstone that would be great." you respond back. "Sweetie, I had to tell Tara and Lee. I-" You swung the door open "YOU WHAT? What the FUCK MOM???? I told you not to say anything before I was ready." you half screamed half sobbed. "Sweetie, they are worried about you, you haven't been over there in a week, Ethan is barley eating or sleeping, I didn't know what to do when they asked the other evening at dinner." she responds. "Wait what do you mean Ethan isn't sleeping or eating?" you ask "Sweetie, Ethan hasn't eaten a meal since you stopped responding to him, Tara says she's lucky to get him to even have a granola bar." she says. "I can't deal with this right now." you say closing the door in your moms face.

It was later that week you decided to break the news to Ethan.

It was during lunch on that Thursday you walked up to his usual table, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked at you, he wanted to be mad, to tell you to fuck off, that you had broken him by ghosting him. Yet after school there he found himself with you in your room. "E, I wanted to tell you, but I don't want to be a burden, and you have hockey and I don't want-" With tears streaming down both of your cheeks Ethan pulls you in for a kiss, one that leaves you breathless and wanting more, but you know it's not the time. "Baby, we are going to fight this, together, you are never a burden my angel, you have got this 100%." he says. “This will be just another obstacle we face, one that we will get to tell our grandchildren about.” he continues. “Because my love you are so strong, you will beat it. Promise.” he finishes as he interlocks pinkies with you, his way of showing you he’s truly here for the long run.

When it came down to discussing potential college opportunities for the both of you it was no question University of Michigan was where you two wanted to call home for the next 4 years. You being a gymnast received an offer to come on a scholarship and well to say they had been eyeing your boyfriend for as long as you had been attending his high school games is an understatement. Ethan could remember the day you both got your acceptance letters as if it was yesterday.

"E, did you check the mail????" you asked as you both walked toward Ethans' Alberta house. "How in the world would I have checked the mail if I have been at school with you all day?" he responded playfully. "Well you big bully, I got my acceptance/rejection letter yesterday and I want to open them together." you say pulling the sealed envelope out of your bag, prompting Ethan to grab your hand and pull you to move faster. "YOU GOT IT AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO CALL ME???? YOU DORK" he says playfully. As soon as you both get to the Edwards mailbox Ethan finds exactly what he is looking for. You and Ethan walk into the house, dropping your stuff by the front door and make a beeline toward Ethans room. Sitting down on his bed you count together and open the letters.

Your sophomore year at UMICH is when things started to go downhill. You ended up getting a small 3 bedroom place with Rutger and Marks girlfriends, Farrah and Kayleigh. For you it was a matter of declining health and the girls hated their roommates at the time. The girls had also been a big help at the games, specifically away games, helping you navigate stairs and such as you became weaker and weaker. So when Kay suggested maybe you would be more comfortable going through the chemotherapy process in a more private setting, you jumped at the opportunity. Ethan was basically living with the three of you by the time you were fully settled having him set up his very own drawers in the bathroom and your bedroom.

So here he was now, in that same bedroom almost a year since you two had shared it, surrounded by his hockey team and select significant others, with your jersey in hand. It had not started like that for him that day however, Ethan actually had no intention of going to your place, not that day and not any time in the near future. How was he supposed to dig through his soulmates personal items, items that held countless and priceless memories of how much her and Ethan truly loved each other. He couldn't, and he wouldn't, however when he received a text from Rutger and Luca saying everyone had a free day and the girls needed to start clearing space to sell the condo, he would be dammed if he let anyone else into your shared world. 2 hours later as the girls let them in saying their hellos he noticed a few of the other guys were already there. T.J, Dylan, Tyler, Mark, and Seamus all sitting on the couch.

"E, I- we know this is still really fresh and hard for you, but we are all going to be here for you ok?" Kayleigh says trying her best to be sympathetic but strong for her boyfriends best friend. Ethan looked up realizing he was being spoken to as Mark rests his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we can take as much time as you need dude. Do what you have to do man." Ethan leads the way into your room, a room that has been untouched by any human presence since your last day there. When you made the decision to leave UMICH, you had just gotten the news that it was now in stage 4 and there wasn't much to be done anymore. You decided to spend your last few weeks at home with your family without telling anyone, not Ethan, not the team, not the girls. You didn't want goodbyes, you didn't want to leave the world knowing how much it would truly hurt those you cared about. You also knew that if you told Ethan he would INSIST on being there by your side till the day you stopped fighting and you refused to be the reason he put his life on hold. You knew he would insist on trying to fight this more, to just try one more round of treatment, to try one more pill, at this point if someone told Ethan dancing the Macarena could cure you he would be doing it on repeat all day every day.

You were tired though, tired of all the chemotherapy, the physical toll it was taking on you, breaking you down into nothing, taking everything you love from you slowly. First gymnastics, then the promise of a life with your soulmate, and now the will to fight, you couldn't take this anymore. Needing help from the guys and girls as you got weaker and needed assistance of a wheelchair, you felt you had become a burden. So when Ethan went looking for you after not hearing from you the previous day, Farrah telling him you had gone to your 6pm class but never come back, his heart stopped. Where did you go? Were you ok? Had his worst fear come true?

He called you, 164 times that week, not knowing you were finally slipping away, not knowing that you had finally found your peace. Calling your parents, who couldn't bring themselves to answer, knowing why he was calling, it wasn't until he got the call from his mom that it was confirmed. You were gone. You had been gone 3 days after you left. The next few weeks were a blur between your funeral and all the condolences he was getting, he took a few weeks off of school to go home and be with your family and his.

"Yeah, uh thanks guys." he says making his way into your room. "We don't want to overwhelm you bro so we are gonna be out here. Let us know if you need anything." Luca says. With that Ethans head snaps up as he drops the stuffed animal he had picked up off the bed. "What- no you- wait I can't do this by myself." he starts feeling his chest get heavy and his lungs reduce in size. "I don't even know where to start or what to do you can't leave me." he begs. The boys look at each other and after silently letting the girls know they would be out in a little Rutger and Luca sit on your bed. Ethan begins by opening your closet, the overwhelming scent of your perfume, and just of you hits him like a brick. Noticing his lack of movement Luca and Rutger get up and walk towards him, "Take your time E, we are here for you." he says. Ethan begins to start taking your shirts off hangers and thats when he sees it, right under his team issued raincoat he had lent you once. The yellow and blue that could be seen from miles away catching his eye as if to almost taunt him, your jersey.

When you and Ethan had been accepted to UMICH you both received some goodie bags of gear from your respective sports programs. Ethan being the guy he is knew he needed to get you in his name and number ASAP so once he found out what number he was assigned, he jumped at the opportunity to plan with some of the guys to customize a blank jersey from the book store for you. Your senior prom Ethan had come over early, while you were still getting ready actually, his plan was to gift you the jersey before prom. Your parents being the way they are, they denied Ethan a peek before you were ready and he ended up having to give it to you in the limo. You had worn it to every single home and away game you attended which was all but maybe 2 games and Ethan couldn't feel prouder to see his name claim you in a subtle way.

Ethan presses the piece of clothing to his chest and silently begins to let the tears flow. "You know I told my parents I don’t think I am going to accept the offer from the Devils." he begins. "What are you saying dude??? Why would you tell them that?” Luca says. "Well without yn I’m nothing, I don't deserve to be happy or live out my dream when she's supposed to be by my side." "Dude, you loved her and we get that but you can't throw away your future just because yn isn't here. You know she would want you to continue and make a life for yourself." Rutger responds. "I went to development camp, is that not enough for everyone? If she's not with me I don't want to do this anymore, I should have done more, tried harder to get her to fight." he says breaking down more and more. "You can't blame-" T.J, who had now come into the room with the other guys stared, "THEN WHO THE FUCK DO I BLAME? WHO DO I GET ANGRY WITH WHEN I REACH FOR HER AND SHES NOT THERE?" Ethan looses it and screams out. "I DO BLAME MYSELF, I PROMISED HER SHE WOULD BEAT THIS FUCKING THING. NOTHING YOU SAY WILL MAKE ME FEEL DIFFERENT. I DON'T DESERVE HOCKEY, I DON'T WANT TO BE HAPPY WITH OUT HER." "Ethan, bro, where is this coming from? We had a blast at development camp what's gotten into you? Talk to me." Seamus says. "SHE'S FUCKING GONE DUDE - SHE'S GONE AND I CAN'T BRING HER BACK." he screams clutching the jersey closer to his chest and takes a deep breath. "I love her, we were supposed to grow old and be together for the rest of our lives. Why should I move on when she doesn't get to?" he continues slightly less aggressive.

Luca walks over to him where he's now collapsed onto the floor. "I was waiting for the right time to give you this." he starts holding out a sealed envelope with the word Ethan written in your handwriting on the front. "What- what is that?" Ethan asks taking the envelope from his friend. "Look dude, the day before y.n left she asked me to hold on to this, to let you take your time to grieve, but she knew you would be a stubborn asshole. She asked me to give you this when you lost all hope." Luca explains, "She didn't tell me the content of the letter but I'm hoping it might help." he says. All the guys made eye contact with each other and Seamus spoke up, "We will give you a moment dude." and a moment later Ethan sits on your bed and opens the envelope:

Ethan, I'm afraid, won't you stay a little while and keep me safe cause there's monsters right outside. They keep telling me to be hopeful, to have faith, to be honest baby I don't know how much more 'faith' I can have anymore. I want to be honest with you my love, because that is what we have always prided ourself on being, I'm writing you because it's not looking good. Every day is another battle to fight and I know they don't think I do but I hear it in the doctors and nurses voice, I'm not getting any better my love. Please know one thing that I hope can bring you comfort and that is that I have accepted my journey and I am at peace with whatever happens. As much as I don't want to leave you and the guys and my family, I am tired, so very tired of fighting, we have been fighting for years now and I need you to know I couldn't ask for a better partner to have fought this battle with. With that being said baby I need to leave you with my last hope for you when I am gone.

I know you won't listen to any of the guys, and that is why I have asked Luca to give you this incase I don't get to say this to your face. You CANNOT and I WILL NOT let you self-sabotage your future Eth, I know that you are going to feel like there's no hope, no point in experiencing these AMAZING milestones without me. I know you will tell everyone you no longer care for the sport of hockey, that you don't and won't allow yourself to experience playing for the Devils because you feel you no longer have anyone to share your incredible journey with. Ethan babe, that's SO far from the truth, because as long as you live I will be with you my love, where ever you go and what ever you do I will ALWAYS be in your heart and in your soul. You should know that even in death you won't get rid of me that easy Edwards.

Just 'cause I'm leaving doesn't mean that I won't be right by your side. When you need me and you can't see me in the middle of the night here's what I want you to do baby : Close your eyes and say a prayer and know that I know you're scared when I'm not here but I'll always be right there even though I'm leaving, baby I promise I ain't goin' nowhere. I know I act tough, but there's a churnin' in my gut cause I just can't call you up when things get rough anymore. I won't be able to wrap my arms around you and comfort you when you need me most, but know that I continue to route for you wether I'm physically here or not. Baby boy you have so much potential, so much love, so much light, so much joy, and so much passion please don't throw it all away after all of the hard work you and I have both put in to get you here.

I will love you with all of my heart and soul for the rest of time my New Jersey Devil. Make sure you allow the guys in during your hard times. As much as I know it's not me, they care about you and love you just as much, (though they will claim they love you more than I did, to which I say LUCA EVEN FROM THE GRAVE I'LL KILL YOU) and they want the best for you babe. I can't wait to hear all of the stories of your first season in the NHL, know that though I physically won't be in the stands, I will be at every game as long as you are thinking of me. Most importantly my love, you deserve to have a family, before you protest (I know you are) I mean it , you deserve to experience everything we have ever dreamed of, and I know you don't feel like it will ever happen but I'll be here to say I told you so when it does. Don't think of it as I'm not with you anymore, just loving you from afar my dear.

I love you so much, take your time to get yourself together, but then remember baby, it's game time.

your forever angel, Y.N

And with that Ethan knew he had some very big choices to make. If only you were here to make them with you.

**PLEASE READ**

A.N:

IM SORRY IVE BEEN MIA... I am going to be absent for the next week, I put in my notice at work so next week I start school up again and work almost every day lol.

First and foremost thank you to @quinnylouhughesx43 for helping me structure an idea. Second, I would like to say that before ANYONE accuses me of stealing other blogs works let me be CRYSTAL CLEAR: I am fully aware that there are stories like this floating around already, I actually reblogged one about jack the other day (highly recommend if you haven't read it yet to read it its on @lukehughes43 blog). At the same time this was a completely original idea I had and wanted to put out. I apologize if there is any similarities as I was partially inspired by said jack fic.

I hope you enjoy as this is one of the only written works I have put out. Feedback and Suggestions are welcomed.

also thank you to my baby girl @quinnylouhughesx43 for the banner <3

xoxox, M

Tagged : @babygirlboeser @quinnylouhughesx43 @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @skylershines @63kaprizov

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