#it took covid and me not going to classes for a year

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOURE RICH?????????

In Philippine standards? very much. Internationally though I would be considered upper middle class.

Like my parents have enough money to live comfortably for several generations rich but we live pretty humbly. Mostly cause of religious purposes a lot of their earnings go to the less privileged family members of ours for education.

I try not to dig into their pockets too much though, hence why i wanted a scholarship in my coleg and am trying to gun for a full ride scholarship in ASMPH if not 75%

[rashfordian]

daily shuffle ting 📸

[lo-sulci]

i kinda can't believe i actually did it

[shotofstress]

Coming back after being almost a week without electricity, phone, and internet connection. Huge storms with lightning and rain, and winds. We have never have winds like that here and the roof of so many houses were ripped off, stuff flying, etc. All this bc global warming, and the deforestation and mining in our lands. At this rate, in 5 years we will have tornadoes, a thing we have never ever have here. Nor our lands, infrastructures, states, and culture are prepared for this. Areas of the country are devastated, ppl have died, many are without electricity nor Internet connection so they are isolated. The houses are flooding with water, and the ones that not, are leaking from the ceiling. Too many neighbours and compatriots don't have roofs and the streets are full of fallen trees and pieces of roof material, no electricity, no signal, food rotting, but suffering at the same time for the cold of this terrible winter, and trying to do something, patching even when its gonna go to hell when the storm comes again this next days. More than 33,200 people affected and 41,500 isolated due to 5 days of rain and windstorms. In just a couple of days there were 170,000 homes left without power due to wind and rainstorms and even more as time went by.

If u want to help me to fix the roof, walls, to buy food and being warm this winter please check my PayPal. If u can't donate, please reblog bc thats the only way to make this being seen by ppl thus receiving help. I'm really not being able to keep living like this, i can no longer cope, so please share.

Here are in my PayPal or MACH . I took the kofi link bc they were charging me a fee.

Please, educate about global warming and the effects on Global South, specially for working class, chronically ill, autistic, disable, and long covid survivor ppl like myself.

Edit: I added links and pics

Edit: the weather is better (is finally spring at this current date 24th nov), but I still need to fix were I live/sleep bc the walls are broken and one of the walls is not a wall, but like 1cm wide stuff and all was bad build so even the door is twisted and dont work correctly, there is black mold that i think is damaging my ears, the paint is falling, the lamp has fallen, everything is broken and ugly, etc. I still need to buy food, meds, and everything so please, please, share or donate if you could. I don't want to survive like this and here, no one mask even when they were the ones giving me covid and they have making me also catch flu the other day bc they cogh over everything and don't care if they kill me, they are abusive and really violent people and are working to put me and everyone in danger. I dont even want to be in my country bc we will have a dictatorship soon, but I have nowhere else to go nor money to migrate (i need like $10.537 dollars or € 9.760,95 euros to pay all the documents, the bank money I have to show to prove I am a human being deserver of rights, the tickets, rent money and stuff to migrate).

I currently have $100 dollars donated (coz i spent 40 in food and meds this past month)

I know i will die here, but at least help me to survive in a less dehumanising way.

Edit: tumblr has blocked me from recive or send messages from the chat and comment of posts, so if you are trying to reach throughout there I can't see it, sorry, I'm cut from any communication (cant even see past messages from chat or asks), except send asks. I'm waiting that tumblr do something, but still hasn't even answered the help file I sent to them.

[elexuscal]

So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.

i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.

So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.

One: Remove Barriers

a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.

For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.

I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.

two: secondary entertainment

like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.

i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--

No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.

i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.

Three: Find Other Motivators

Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"

Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.

(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)

Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".

And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!

Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss

I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).

The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.

Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:

How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?

Am I sleeping better?

Is my balance improving?

Is my stamina increasing?

Am I becoming more flexible?

Can I lift/carry heavier weights?

Is my breath control improving?

Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.

[theculturedmarxist]

In photos of 2023’s World Economic Forum- or Davos as it is commonly called, after the Swiss resort town where it annually occurs- you might not notice the HEPA filters. They’re in the background, unobtrusive and unremarked upon, quietly cleansing the air of viruses and bacteria. You wouldn’t know- not unless you asked- that every attendee was PCR tested before entering the forum, or that in the case of a positive test, access was automatically, electronically, revoked. And if you happened to get a glimpse of the strange blue lights overhead, you could reasonably assume that their glow was simply a modern aesthetic choice, not the calming buzz of cutting edge Far UVC technology- demonstrated to kill microbes in the air.

It’s hard to square this information with the public narrative about COVID, isn’t it? President Biden has called the pandemic “over”. The New York Times recently claimed that “the risk of Covid is similar to that of the flu” in an article about “hold outs” that are annoyingly refusing to accept continual reinfection as their “new normal”. Yet, this week the richest people in the world are taking common sense, easy- but strict- precautions to ensure they don’t catch Covid-19 at Davos.

These common sense, easy precautions include high-quality ventiliation, use of Far UVC-lighting technology, and PCR testing. You’ll also see some masks at Davos, but generally, the testing + air filtration protocol seems to be effective at preventing the kind of super-spreader events most of us are now accustomed to attending.

It seems unlikely to me that a New York Times reporter will follow the super-rich around like David Attenborough on safari, the way one of their employees did when they profiled middle-class maskers last month. I doubt they will write “family members and friends can get a little exasperated by the hyper-concern” about the assembled Prime Ministers, Presidents and CEOs in Switzerland. After all, these are important people. The kind of people who merit high-quality ventilation. The kind of people who deserve accurate tests.

Why is the media so hellbent on portraying simple, scientifically proven measures like high-quality ventilation as ridiculous and unnecessary as hundreds of people continue to die daily here in the US?

Why is the public accepting a “new normal” where we are expected to get infected over and over and over again, at work events with zero precautions, on airplanes with no masks, and at social dinners trying to approximate our 2019 normal?

We deserve better. We deserve to be #DavosSafe as the hashtag going around on twitter puts it. Your children deserve to be treated with the care that world leaders are treating each other. Your family deserves to be protected from the disease which is still- unlike the flu- the third leading cause of death in the US. We don’t deserve to be shoved back into poorly ventilated workplaces while our politicians and press assure us that only crazy people would demand to breathe clean air.

Clean water and clean food are rights we fought for; we have regulatory bodies that ensure we aren’t exposed to pathogens via our water supply nor our food. In 1854, John Snow famously conducted his Broad Street Pump study in London and demonstrated that cholera was water-bourne; however, it took decades for our public policy to catch up with our scientific knowledge.

A public health case study published by the NBCI describes the years that followed:

The first use of chlorine as a disinfectant for water facilities was in 1897 in England. The first use of this method for municipal water facilities in the United States was in Jersey City, New Jersey, and Chicago, Illinois, in 1915. Other cities followed and the use of chlorination as standard treatment for water disinfection rapidly grew. During the 20th century, death rates from waterborne diseases decreased significantly, and although other additional factors contributed to the general improvements in health (such as sanitation, improved quality of life, and nutrition), the improvement of water quality was, without doubt, a major reason.

Forty-three years passed from the initial demonstration that pathogens were being spread via water, and public action and regulation to halt disease.

Can you imagine, in the 1890s, being somebody who argued against cleaning the water?

Can you imagine, in those years of plentiful cholera, calling the people who demanded shit-free water “hold outs”?

One thing COVID realists are accused of is being “doomsayers” and “fearmongers,” so let me share a dose of optimism about the future with you. When we choose- whenever we choose- to get COVID under control, there’s an exciting new world awaiting us. One, not only without constant COVID reinfection, but where our kids can grow up free of colds, flus, RSV, and many other common bugs. And no, contrary to what you may have heard, staying healthy (shockingly enough) is not bad for children!

Once we choose to institute ventilation standards and introduce new technologies like Far UVC lighting- and embrace masking as an easy, kind, and useful tool to control outbreaks- we can bring every nasty airborne pathogen under control the way we did cholera. We didn’t have the science before; now we do. (I mean that quite literally; I can’t recommend enough the linked Wired article cataloguing the long journey to establishing that Covid is, indeed, airborne).

We face a stark choice; down one road, the one with zero infrastructure upgrades, no air quality regulations, and Covid safety only for those who can afford it, you and your family will get Covid this year. You will get Covid next year. You will continue to get Covid over and over and over again, as the health problems - like cardiac damage, viral persistance, and immune system dysfunction- continue to build up. (The billionaires, of course, will not).

Down the other road, we quite simply treat ourselves the way Davos would. We engage with what the science is telling us and we build a safer, better world for our kids. We embrace the lessons this pandemic is teaching us, and let go of things we now know are harming people. We stop clinging desperately to the idea that 2019 will come back if we just get the virus one more time, and we come together to achieve what we’ve been told is impossible: elimination.

The economic elite thrive on our divisiveness and blame casting. They don’t mind that we’re calling each other names, engaging in racial stereotyping, or leaving disabled people to die, so long as we keep their machine running. But we can choose to stop throwing blame at each other, and direct it where it belongs: at the powerful people who’ve left us to suffer, at the politicians who are whipping people into a frenzy over masks instead of over our millions of dead, at the talking heads on TV that work so hard to convince us: you want to get sick. It’s better than being a *weirdo* or a *hold out*.

We needn’t wait 43 years to redirect our energies. France and Belgium have already introduced new air quality standards, and DIY projects to build Corsi-Rosenthal boxes for schools and healthcare settings have popped up around the country. We have the science, we have the technology. All we need now is the political will and the solidarity to truly end the pandemic- the kind of solidarity the super rich always show with one another.

The billionaires at Davos don’t accept continual Covid reinfection. They demand better. It’s time we demand better too.

[snifferish]

Never in my life did I think that re-tweeting resources for SA, and supporting victims would be considered problematic or performative.

I should not have to bare this, but I'm going to tell just one of my stories, because I need you to understand where I'm coming from. TW // Sexual Harassment

--

When I was 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. I wanted to avoid using the pain medication they prescribed. I struggle a lot with sensory issues, medications and substances made it worse.

However, my surgery was for impacted teeth, and only two days in one of my stitches fell out. I was in so much pain, and couldn't eat solids w/ out pain for up to three weeks.

So, a week into my recovery, one of my friends invites me to their house. They were having our friend group over, it was just a little bonfire get together kinda thing. I took my pain meds a few hours prior, and only half a dose, but I was out of it to some degree, and somehow still in pain.

I was sitting on a lawn chair outside, when one of my close friends came over and asked to sit on my lap. Honestly, I said yes at first, because this was my childhood friend, someone I trusted, and I thought our relationship was incredibly platonic. Then he started to shift/grind about in my lap, and I started to feel things of theirs I did not want to. They made a noise that deeply unsettled me, and I told him to get off, they didn't. It was only when I told them that he accidently triggered the emergency call shortcut on my phone (it was in the pocket of the lawn chair, yes they were moving that much and I was moving trying to push him off) that he finally got up.

I was bewildered, and a bit confused, and also embarrassed that my phone nearly called 911. I claimed I wasn't feeling well, and went home early.

That was the first time someone touched me in a remotely sexual way, but I didn't dare to label it until I talked to my therapist. It made me dwell on a lot of experiences with this person as well. How obsessed they were with being taller than me, how often they'd grab me and force me to see if they were stronger than me. At the time, I was in a friend group of predominately non-men, and they were all friends with this person.

However, when I told them about this, when I expressed the discomfort it brought me. I was brushed off. "He's just like that!" oh "He probably didn't mean it" etc.

I didn't feel comfortable in the same room as this person. My friends would continue to invite them to hang outs. One of my other friends told everyone about what happened without my permission. I started having breakdowns in my classes with him. I had panic attacks all the time. I felt as if I had to continue this façade of being nice to him, or else I would lose my friends of years and years.

I was happy when covid started, because for the first time I had breathing room, but by then so much of my trust was dismantled.

Due to my friends association with this person, and the fact that not being their friend excluded me. I eventually got over it, and told myself I'd grown past it.

Three months ago, this same person admitted to me they hold extreme grudges against me, that they projected their "mommy issues" on to me, and quite literally said the words, "Yeah yeah, you're a woman who's outspoken and challenged me and that bothers me yeah yeah." in regards to that. They said it with sarcasm, like it was something they knew, and their mother was reminding them for the 12th time.

--

I bring this all up, not to make you feel guilty, but to discuss the harm of not supporting victims, not listening to them. It puts them in a position of isolation, and in a position to potentially be hurt again.

So yeah, I'm gonna be a little upset when people say I'm being "performative" about supporting victims of sexual harassment and SA. I'm not doing this because it benefits me, in fact it's caused a lot of backlash, horrible dms, and very triggering memories.

I'm doing it because I was once not heard, and i've sat with Caiti behind the scenes for months watching her lose passion for something she loved (content creation).

I didn't do this because I'm secretly sniveling behind the scenes tapping my fingers praying on peoples downfall. I'm not a Disney villain dude lmfao.

Honestly, this narrative that is being pushed, that people are doing it "because it benefits them" is quite ironic, considering most of the people talked about within the last 72 hours were under Wilbur's weird ass apology doing just that.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate how people are okay with this narrative, the misogynist undertones of it. I've seen people admit that they didn't like me or my friends the entire time, while simultaneously "calling us out" about this, so I ask you,

Are you calling us? Because it benefits your motives? Your feelings?

[sanzaibian]

I should have known better.

You know, those highschool cliques ? The jocks, the nerds, the goths and all... Well, even though nowadays they might not be as clear-cut as they once were, I can assure you that they still existed.

You see, I'm a nerd. But when I say nerd, I mean nerd. Like the whole socially awkward, scrawny and ugly kind of nerd. Also the nasally always-right nerd with top notch marks that reminds the teacher he made a mistake kind of nerd. And also the loves DnD, fantasy and niche interests kind of nerd... well, you get what I mean.

Me being such a caricature meant that I was endlessly teased at school, and was senselessly bullied by the jocks. You know, these hot guys with always a girl in their pants, with big muscles and an obsession with looking good.

I hated it, I hated them, and suffered silently through highschool, until I finally saw the other side when I finally went to university. Although my first years were a bit messed up by Covid, when I was in the building actually studying applied chemistry, I finally wasn't bothered. No one was there to tease me, to bully me or anything else. I could finally live in the class without being bothered !

But, in my third year, Ethan, a guy looking like one of those jocks of old switched courses and came in my class.

I was shocked ! These guys are only good for being hot, playing sports, and entering hot girls' pants ! Not for doing some actual intelligent things like applied chemistry !

But he was even more annoying, that Ethan guy. Because he did not only take the courses I took. No, in fact, he was getting better grades than me. He's so good with polymers that he is the one who asks all the questions and corrects the teacher, not me !

So I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Even when he tried to befriend me, I just scoffed at him, sometimes even mumbling that he should go back to the football stadium. I also talked to the few acquaintances that I had made through awkward bumbling at how I felt he was dumb, and perhaps was only extorting some poor nerds for information to regurgitate in class.

And, one day, at lunch, I just had enough. Ethan and the polymer teacher had an intense debate just before the end of the class, a debate that I couldn't follow. My ego was struck, to the point that I just poured my heart out to the poor people sitting with me. I was seeing red, that day, and nothing could have stopped me... not even the fact that Ethan was there a few tables next to me.

I've since then heard that Ethan was very upset after my tirade, as he is always thought to be dumb due to his interest in being in shape and stylish, while at the same time, I was coming back home all happy to finally have given people a piece of my mind.

However, when I woke back up, I felt weird. I felt heavier, less agile and especially more groggy. As if I just couldn’t quite get up. There was also something cold on my chest that I couldn’t quite identify…

So I did the only logical thing and went to the bathroom to wash my face and properly wake up. But when I saw the mirror, I think what I saw woke me up immediately.

The man behind the mirror was not me. It was a jock – a hot one at that – with big muscles, trendy hair, chiseled face and multiple jewelry. Yet, there were still a few things that signaled me I was looking at myself : the jet black hair, the tan skin, the brown eyes and especially those small pimples on my right cheek and on my right… I guess I can call it pec, now.

I stayed in front of the mirror for quite a while, looking at each corner of my reflection. I couldn’t believe it, and after a long while, decided to just eat breakfast and forget everything that happened. It just isn’t possible.

But when I was going to my kitchen I couldn’t stop being reminded of how I changed. From my heavy step to the sound of my new necklace, and from the pecs I saw in the corner of my eyes to the weird feeling I still felt in my head. When finally reaching it, I was surprised when I didn’t go for my usual biscuits but rather for an apple… I must eat healthily, after all !

After finishing eating breakfast, I went to my closet, and rather than going for the button-up I usually wore, I went for a simple white t-shirt, and went for a jacket that I didn’t feel like closing, in addition to my usual jeans – all suspiciously fitting me well.

And with that, I went to university, set on finding who did that to me.

When I arrived, the weird feeling in my head hadn’t lifted, though I was dead set in finding who was responsible. So dead set that I didn’t notice people turning their head at my arrival. Nor my backpack shifting to only being carried by one shoulder.

After a while, I saw my class, and approached them with heavy gait, swinging my torso with every step like a typical jock. However, curses befell upon me when I opened my mouth and greeted my classmate.

“Yo, bro ! Doin’ good ? I just wanted to ask, bro, anything weird happened since yesterday ?”

I was shocked at how I said that, so much that I covered my mouth with my hand. My classmate was similarly shocked, and only shook her head negatively before excusing herself. Why did she flee like that ?

I clicked my tongue before looking at myself. How had this happened ? Why am I doing weird things ? Why am I talking weirdly ? I can think the sophisticated thoughts, yet when I voice them, they are filtered through bro-speech !

As I was melting down, none other than Ethan came in, smiling. Of course it was him, I shouldn’t have given the benefit of the doubt to him ! I have been only graceful and nice to him, and this is how he repays me ? By turning me into this… hot monstrosity ?

As the anger was rising, Ethan lead me to the bathroom, and there explained himself.

“You know, Juan, you’ve been insufferable ever since we started that semester. Always distrusting me, and making others distrust me. I’ve never know why you were always so angry at me, while you treated others with respect… that is, until you went on a rant yesterday.

- You fucker ! Turn me back right now, or you’ll wish you’ve never been born, you son of bitch !” I didn’t quite expect to be this foul-mouthed…

- Hahaha ! No, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s already so unexpected that my prayers were answered to, so you turning back ? No can do !

- Bro that’s not fair, I wasn’t bad to you, man ! You were the one being rude on my turf, bruh !

- So funny ! You now sound like one stereotypical jock in addition to looking like one ! I’m sorry, Juan, but nobody will ever take you seriously in a conference If you talk to them like that !” he laughs.

- Bro, just turn me back… I promise I won’t continue, man !

- What didn’t you understand in ‘No can do’, Juan ? the ‘no’ ?”

I roll my eyes, but he’s right… God that fucking angers me. I want to strangle that piece of shit !

“So, Juan, I guess, see you in class, if you even dare enter it…”

On that, he left. That day, I didn’t go to class, spending my time looking for information on what made me turn like that, until, like clockwork, at 5 PM I felt like I needed to go to the gym…

After a few days of searching and not finding anything at all, I decided to abandon the quest to find myself back and to rather learn to live with this new body. With Ethan stubbornly refusing to tell me how he did it and with my searches on internet only yielding weird fetish pages, I knew it was desperate...

I’ve since started to learn to cope with my strange occurrence, though it has absolutely wrecked my life. After having debated a while with the administration to prove I’m myself, I find my grades slipping, especially due to my newfound rudeness that mess up every single oral exam…

But at least, I’m hot now…

================================================

Hello, thank you for reading my small story, I hope it wasn't too bad !

Please do not hesitate to give me feedback - especially as it is the first real time I'm writing fiction in english ^^'

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for correcting my niblings without my brother's input?

I had a massive falling out with my family when I was a teenager. I was into goth/edgy/horror culture and true crime before it was accepted by the mainstream, plus my parents were older when they had us and we lived on a farm. They needed my brother and me to keep the farm going, and I decided to pursue college instead. At some point after this they sold/lost their farm, but I do not know when, which fueled their resentment. At their request I did not speak to them until 2021, when my brother found me on Facebook to tell me my parents both died of covid and we held a Zoom funeral. After that he moved several states over to be closer to me so we could work on reconciliation and forgiving me for the farm incident.

So now I (45f) babysit his (44m) two youngest children (10m, 8f) for free, and have been since 2021. Initially he had full custody as his ex wife did not have a job or any job experience when they divorced (before we reconciled) but she now has a full time job so they share custody currently, although she is in our home state, so they decided the kids should go to school there still and spend holidays and summers with him. I am currently an art professor at a local university and for summer semester I only have morning classes and he works afternoons, so it works out.

Last week, his youngest asked me; "OP, how come you lie so much?" Her brother tried to shush her but I asked for clarification. Her brother told her she wasn't supposed to tell me, but she did anyway, and then he also chimed in to confirm. Turns out, whenever I told his kids about any vacations to other countries I took, he said I was making it up to sound important. When I told them I went to medical school, he said I was lying and was a glorified art teacher and only went to community college. I have a serious boyfriend who I have mentioned, although I do not spend time with him while babysitting per the mother's request not to have any adult with her children before meeting them and giving the okay, and so my brother insists I made him up.

I was very hurt, and so I showed them pictures, diplomas, videos, etc proving I was not lying. It is true I got into a community college near our home town on an art scholarship and an FHA grant, but I was able to skip generals due to advanced courses I was taking in high school. I quickly got interested in the medical field and was able to transfer to a medical school on several scholarships and obviously loans. I became a pediatric oncologist and was happy with that until my later thirties. I had kept art as a hobby but eventually realized I wanted to do more with it. I retired from pediatric oncology and then became an art professor five years ago. When I was a doctor, I met my current boyfriend (46m) who is a trauma surgeon. Starting in my late twenties, until covid, I was able to travel throughout the US and even to many foreign countries, sometimes for work, sometimes for vacation. There was no way for him to know this as we were not in contact, but I was very hurt that instead of believing me, he has been telling his kids I'm a liar for the past two years. So yes I did show them the photos and videos specifically because I was hurt.

The following day my brother called me and shouted at me, angry I had deliberately contradicted him. He was angry enough he was shouting at me. He has been dragging this on through text for the past few days. His ex wife also contacted me, asking for my version of events, as apparently their children called her crying about the situation. I told her exactly what I said here. He called me not an hour later screaming. Unbeknownst to me, she has been trying to get full custody of the children and he's convinced that this situation will get his kids taken from him, something he has a fear of due to the fact he has two adult children from a previous marriage who went no contact when they both turned 18. He insists that his ex wife turned them against him, and now he is terrified it will happen again. I was not aware of this until recently, nor did I think this would cause an issue with his custody. It has been very awkward babysitting his kids, as they have been very quiet since this whole thing happened. I don't have kids myself, nor have I been divorced, so I don't understand parenting or divorce etiquette, but I am still very hurt and even angry with him for calling me a liar to his children. Before I make any further decisions regarding an apology, I wanted to get advice as to whether I am the asshole for not bringing it up with him before showing his kids evidence that I did, in fact, do those things, and if so, how I can rectify this appropriately.

What are these acronyms?

[oscar-wilde-thing]

Four years ago I sat in a psychiatrist's office. I was explaining why a certain Cognitive Behavioral Therapy technique felt impossible.

"If I don't think I know how a social interaction is going to work out, if I don't know the pattern, I can't do it."

The Dr nodded, and we moved on.

A few sessions later, she said she didn't think she could work with me anymore.

Great, I thought to myself. I'm being dumped by my therapist.

"I don't think I can work with you, because I think you're autistic."

I literally felt my world shift underneath me.

She explained more, about social interactions, about hyper sensitivity, about pattern recognition and anxiety and early-life academic achievement. I did end up stopping treatment with her, I don't really remember why. But I held that suggestion in my head.

The end of 2019 was rocky- working retail around the holidays is its own special hell, and my grandmother died in December of that year.

Then 2020 happened. COVID and isolation and protests and my workplace unionizing. Through all of that I was reading, and watching videos, and researching. About how autism and neurodivergency presents differently in girls and AFAB people. How the research is incredibly outdated and mostly focused on white, middle class boys. How getting a diagnosis as an adult, let alone an AFAB adult, is a fight.

I kept trucking along, learning new ways to cope. Figuring out that sometimes what I had thought were anxiety attacks was actually sensory overload. That my penchant for spreadsheets and what I called my "encyclopedic nerd brain" were probably hyper fixations.

It took 4 years.

4 years, 8 more mental health professionals, a mental breakdown, a month in residential mental health care, and 5 more months in acute daily mental health care, but today, at 12:55PM, I was officially diagnosed with Autism.

I'm sitting here at my desk weeping because I'm both so happy and so angry. Happy that there's a reason I feel the way I feel, that there's a reason why the world seems so harsh, that there's a reason why I sometimes physically can't talk and a reason why certain foods and sounds and textures make me want to crawl out of my skin. But I'm also so angry that it took 26 years for anyone to see. That it took another 4 years for me to get any answers. That there are countless other little girls and adult AFABS like me out there who feel like they're doing everything they're supposed to but not getting what the world tells them they should be getting.

My life has changed. Or maybe it hasn't changed. Maybe a door has opened that had never been seen before.

I'm not sure how to wrap this up.

I just know that learning more about myself is rarely a bad thing. And now that I know this big piece of who I am, I'll be able to go forward and learn more ways to exist in this world as an autistic person.

[jokeroutsubs]

🎈🍰Nace Birthday Special🍰🎈

Nace Jordan's interview for Suzy magazine, published 14.06.2024. English translation by drumbeat and @beeoftheanxieties, proof read by TWT klamstrakur.

📝ENG Translation: Joker Out's Nace Jordan: 60 Kilograms to Happiness

Twenty-nine-year-old Nace Jordan is considered one of the most emotional, thoughtful, and responsible Slovenian musicians.

CAPTION: He’s spreading tolerance and respect to everyone.

He was the last one to join the group of four highly admired young men, but that doesn't mean he's the fifth or the spare wheel. His inspiring story makes him a great role model for teenagers, showing that working on yourself is worthwhile, because you never know when an extraordinary opportunity will come your way. After making a major change in his lifestyle, he got rid of past burdens to focus on a bright, melodic future. With the loving support of his girlfriend, the first signs of a family are already visible. They've been joined by Pino, an adorable dachshund, who brought new responsibilities and lots of joy.

CAPTION: Joker Out gained a first-class member with Nace.

INTERVIEWER: How quickly did you feel accepted as fully fledged member, considering you were not a co-founder of Joker Out?

Nace: Initially it might have appeared as if I instantly took on the role of bass guitarist with confidence, although deep down I was quite confused. The guys already had their banter, even a kind of a jargon I didn't feel familiar with. They are after all five years younger than me, almost a different generation. But they have welcomed me in a very embracing way, we have started to develop a communal story and we have become a unit. Even after we had recorded 'Carpe Diem' and I was offered a permanent place in the band, I was still haunted by the feeling that I might not be perceived easily as a part of the band by the most devoted fans.

Was Eurovision your ultimate test?

Sort of. I was told I aced it, and as a fill-in member, it made me happy when the decision to welcome me into the family was final. The whole idea was to first try and see how compatible we were, without any pressure or expectations. On stage, it was obvious that we were a perfect match. But I tended to hold back when it came to the bigger decisions. Bojan is, after all, the frontman, the dominant one, so I didn't want to interfere with the pre-established dynamics. It was only after the Eurovision euphoria was over that a new era began and with it the most precious gift - the appreciation of the entire group. They are exceptional young individuals, extremely talented, and they wanted someone who could feel their vibe and bring them together, not tear them apart.

This opportunity has come as a reward for your challenging personal journey, a tremendous transformation of body and spirit. How has this affected your self-image?

I am still trying to work on myself. I have lost 60 kilos and broken free from the shackles of a troubled adolescence, when the slightest deviation from the average is frowned upon. It is unimaginable that you can lose so many kilograms, one whole person. It was gradual. After the first ten, you are overcome with excitement. Your reflection in the mirror gets nicer by the week, you gain confidence in yourself and see that it is not difficult to follow your goal. I gained an unstoppable will to keep going, and the most extraordinary things started to happen. I got to play in the backing band of the popular show ' V petek zvečer' ('Friday Night'), and then realised a childhood dream when I managed to join a band as skillful as the Jokers. A time came when I walked around with a huge smile on my face and I hoped that it would not fade from my face for a long time to come. At the same time, I was driven to give it my best shot, because I simply couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

You have used the dark times of COVID for something bright, inspirational. When did you decide you were tired of living in a bigger body?

The stomach pains were the first indicator that I had to roll up my sleeves and work on myself. I had always been chubbier, but I got saved by my height because the kilograms were evenly spread. I was able to exercise, go hiking, [and] be active in water sports, particularly wakeboarding. I wasn't immune to the looks of naysayers, that someone with so much weight could move so capably. I had reached a point where I no longer felt comfortable. I didn't like myself, the walks were getting more and more exhausting, I didn't have a girlfriend for a while, which was a big motivation to change my lifestyle. At the beginning, I was embarrassed to work out in front of others. Would they be thinking, 'What is this fatso doing here now'? So at home I would climb up and down the stairs from the basement to the attic. For half a year, every evening. First for 15 minutes, then I progressed to 45. It seemed like a waste to ruin this effort with unhealthy food, so I changed my diet. I eliminated all the guilty pleasures and after the first 20 lost, I decided I was ready to train outdoors. By running. It might not have been the smartest idea because of my knees, but it all worked out well in the end. Something that I resented for a long time became my norm. To this day, I still enjoy putting on my running shoes to clear my mind. Whenever my mind is in a frenzy, running saves me.

Humans are really odd, shallow creatures. We can't see what's underneath the excess weight. It was only after you have transformed that the requests for more collaborations started coming in. How did you manage to heal these emotional scars from the entertainment business, where the physical appearance still takes precedence over the heart?

That's the hardest part, not to lose faith in yourself. You question your self worth because of the labels the public has stuck on you. Of course, the medical aspect of excess weight is the first signal for a radical change. The results would be significantly better, if people around us were more sparse with negative comments and dismissive attitudes towards anything that is not to their liking. I must confess that I have never felt better than I did after saying goodbye to cigarettes, alcohol, and, for a period, even meat. Imagine you are carrying a 60 kilogram backpack. And then you put it down. A different world opens up.

In all this, music has been your most faithful companion and supporter. Would it have been possible to go through all this without it?

The power of art is amazing. The bass guitar is my lifelong love. Even if I was a butcher or a carpenter, I would play and create for myself. We are used to these kind of stories in the movies, where after a difficult ordeal you find yourself in the midst of your teenage dreams. After the third concert with the Jokers, a girl came up to me and confided that she was contemplating suicide, but our songs had saved her. She thanked us for taking the time for our fans and talking to them. Their honesty is a sign that you are part of something great. The power of music goes beyond the limits of our imagination. There are countless similar confessions. This realisation is also therapeutic for us. You receive confirmation that you are doing something right.

Have you ever wondered why you play music at all?

Many times. The doubts of who will listen to my work, or now our work, are a constant in the career of a professional musician. But if you put your heart first, you quickly get the confirmation that we are not just pretty boys on stage, but individuals with depth and a message.

As a teenager, what motivated you to follow your aspirations?

I wanted to be like my cousin. He is five years older than me and he had his own band. He introduced me to foreign bands, like Led Zeppelin. It sounded rather innocent, but it was the start of a profound passion. Recently, Jan, the guitarist, and I were talking about the role models who have defined us. I told him that there must be an aspiring young teenager in Slovenia who looks up to him and has begun strumming the strings because of him. I am convinced that we have brought a breath of fresh air to the local scene and given a boost to young bands who are not yet established. It is very healthy to encourage others, to be each other's support and competition. I didn't feel that before.

When did you first feel that the stage was your everything?

We had a kind of talent show at the school camp. I wanted to sing the ballad 'Behind Blue Eyes' by The Who, but the teacher wouldn't let me because it wasn't an appropriate song. I cried with sadness, so she mellowed down. I took advantage of her faith, put on my sunglasses and a headscarf. That's when something stirred inside of me. Finally, now that we are touring Europe and are excited to discover how the power of music brings people together, I am calmed. Even as a kid I stood my ground and I am grateful to my stubbornness for getting me this far.

You have a strong bond with your mother. How does she keep track of your exceptional progress?

She is proud to say that she is my biggest 'fan'. She was happiest at Eurovision, which she has always followed. It was the first time she was able to experience it live, she and Bojan's mum cheered loudly and I have to admit that it's the greatest thing to be able to make the most important woman in your life happy. It has only strengthened our bond. We have a trusting, friend-like relationship, but first and foremost she is my mum, with all the worries and all the loving helpfulness. I was not a typical child and she had to endure all my whims. She was constantly encouraging me to take up a sport, but I preferred to stay at home and draw. She tolerated my struggles at school because she knew I wasn't like the others and allowed me to develop to my full potential. My younger sister is also responsible for making me who I am. Her kind words are a balm for a wounded soul.

Have you always wanted to be a musician?

As a child, I had two things in mind - to be a zoo manager, because I love animals, and to be a singer, even though I later swapped the microphone for a guitar. Sculpting fascinated me. In short, expression through art.

Your love for animals has lasted. You have a three-month-old dachshund named Pino in your lap.

Finally! I've been longing for a puppy for so many years, and dachshunds are one of my favourite breeds. If music hadn't drawn me in, I would certainly be a vet. One summer break I was helping out at a wildlife sanctuary instead of playing with my friends. It was a wonderful experience.

You are away from home a lot. How do you maintain your long-distance relationship with your girlfriend?

Some people reassure us that technology helps because we can see each other through the camera. But it is not the same. It's important that all my loved ones and dear ones, meaning my girlfriend, my mum, my family, and my friends, believe in our work and are willing to sacrifice time with me so that I can follow my dreams. But we are in constant contact with each other and we let each other know how much we love each other all the time.

~ -~ - ~ - PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, AND IF YOU QUOTE, PLEASE LINK BACK TO THE ORIGINAL POST!

[drdemonprince]

to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

[covid-safer-hotties]

On the first night of the DNC, Georgia Senator Reverend Raphael Warnock took to the stage to give a rousing call for disease control and community care:

"The pandemic taught us how. A contagious airborne disease means that I have a personal stake in the health of my neighbor. If she’s sick, I may get sick also. Her healthcare is good for my health… we are as close in humanity as a cough!"

He made this declaration about contagious airborne disease in a sea of contagious airborne disease. With nearly 1 million new COVID-19 cases in the US each day as of August 16, approximately 1/34 Americans are currently infectious with COVID-19, a quarter of them fully asymptomatic

The DNC, though it easily might’ve, implemented no COVID safety mitigations; no test requirement, no mask requirement nor even mask distribution, no air quality information, zero of the vaunted “tools” we supposedly now have to “keep us safe” from COVID infections. Long COVID has not been mentioned. While bragging about their unprecedented “accessibility” measures, the DNC ensured that no immunocompromised person would be safe to enter the United Center this week.

Without apparent irony or cognitive dissonance, Warnock seemed to make the case for public health measures controlling the SARS-COV-2 virus while celebrating an administration that oversaw the utter destruction of public health as we once knew it, in a building this is, objectively, full of the SARS-COV-2 virus.

As kids return to school amidst record-breaking August COVID levels, multiple schools have already shut down simply because infection levels were too high for them to continue operating. Meanwhile, the CDC issued guidance encouraging students to stay in class if they have lice or “mild” diarrhea, as the absence crisis “mysteriously” continues to worsen.

The event comes just weeks after a sprawling Nature Medicine review determined the global burden of Long COVID to be about 400 million individuals less than 5 years into the crisis, already costing economies a staggering $1 trillion annually. As quoted in Fortune, lead author Dr. Ziyad Al-Aly observed that:

"I think they (government agencies) are itching to pretend that COVID is over and that long COVID does not exist."

Pretend is certainly an apt word for what has been on display in Chicago this week.

A massive collection of close-packed delegates, electeds, lobbyists, influencers, celebrities and rich people cheered the idea of protecting each other’s health while participating in pandemic denial, refusing to use any mitigations, and purposely spreading COVID.

It was, frankly, bizarre.

The explicitly false nature of Senator Warnock’s statement- along with other Democrats’ varyingly inaccurate statements about beating the pandemic- begs several questions about exactly how far these delusions go.

Does Senator Warnock know we are in a massive COVID surge?

Does Senator Warnock know over a thousand Americans died of COVID-19 last week?

Does Senator Warnock believe that immunocompromised people deserve access to public spaces and representation in a setting like say, the DNC?

Does Senator Warnock know that millions of Americans have already been disabled by COVID-19 infections?

Does Senator Warnock understand that COVID did not literally, actually disappear when Biden took office?

Does anyone in that room?

For some time, it’s been clear that Democrats, like the Republicans before them, are now married to the COVID-is-mild-because-I-got-it-and-survived narrative and that nothing can pry it from their hot little 102-degree hands.

But his particular words struck me because they seemed a leap forward, a new frontier in the competitive field of pandemic denial. He stated not just that COVID is mild and safe for everyone to repeatedly catch forever - something that no public health body has ever claimed, and no scientific study supports - but that Democrats embrace disease control measures and believe in not coughing on one another, in a room full of people actively refusing to utilize disease control measures and instead coughing on one another.

And the crowd, an estimated 3% of it currently COVID+, cheered.

The Democrats perhaps first diverged from reality on COVID during Delta, when emerging evidence indicated that the vaccine-only approach would not work to control the virus. Vaccine protection waned rapidly, the virus proved capable of mutating to evade immunity from both vaccines and infections, and early days of plummeting transmission rebounded with a vengeance.

Instead of acknowledging reality, the party, with assistance from the slobbering media, doubled down on claims that only the unvaccinated would be harmed and killed by continuing mass infection policies. It wasn’t until after Omicron wave one that data emerged showing nearly 40% of those dead in the brutal winter ‘21-’22 reopening wave had been vaccinated. That summer, 60% of the dead were vaccinated. But by that time, the Democratic Party was happy on Earth 2.

No one called them out on their alternate universe fanfic where the virus had been vanquished; people kept dying, the public was sicker than ever, it became clear that Long COVID was a serious disease. But the call of the Disneyfied Pandemic Free Future was too strong. People bought the lies because the truth was just no fun.

In the three years since Delta, we’ve been on an unending roller coaster of massive waves followed by short-lived lulls, lulls during which 1/200 Americans are still testing COVID+. No sooner had we made it through JN.1 than KP.2 was surging; no sooner is KP.2 subsiding than KP.3.1.1 is right behind. New variants are emerging before the current wave is spent, with endless mass infection giving SARS-COV-2 the ultimate playground to experiment with genetic mutations and maximize its immune evasiveness.

Vaccines are updated but fail to keep up with the virus; the current booster is for XBB, the variant that was predominant in the winter of 2022-2023. The JN.1/KP.2 boosters still await FDA approval as the KP.3 surge crests.

Meanwhile, the Democrats’ Earth 2 fantasy persists. It goes a little something like this: In January 2021, the COVID-19 vaccines debuted. We all got the shots, a year later COVID also became mild somehow, everything went back to normal, and everyone lived happily ever after. There’s no Long COVID, there are no record student absences, there are no record disability numbers, hospitals aren’t overwhelmed, people aren’t sick all the time, disabled people aren’t unsafe in all public spaces, there are no worker shortages, there is no scads of scientific evidence showing long-term damage to all major organ systems following even mild infections.

None of that exists!

The Earth 2 story has even begun retroactively assigning Biden era deaths and outcomes to the Trump administration. Multiple times in recent months, both the Biden and Harris campaigns have referred to “a million people” dying under Trump. 400,000 Americans had died of COVID when Trump left office. The Biden administration even held a memorial event for those first 400,000 dead, the night before it took power and ceased to care about COVID deaths.

1.2 million Americans are dead of COVID today.

But those 800,000 dead bodies conflict with the Earth 2 story. How could hundreds of thousands of people died after COVID became mild and everything went back to normal? Maybe that somehow also happened under Trump! It doesn’t have to be true, it just has to feel true, and it sure feels like Joe Biden wouldn’t kill 800,000 people with negligence and scientific misinformation.

Just like it feels like we learned how to protect each other from airborne contagious diseases when Senator Reverand Warnock says it in a booming, inspiring, church-ready voice that invites us to relish our social justice credentials and love for our neighbors.

And doesn’t it feel like the DNC, an indoor event with hundreds of COVID+ attendees not wearing masks, is the most inclusive and accessible convention ever?

These delusions are so powerful, have been so propped up by the media, are so appealing to the public who wishes them real, that they have become indistinguishable from reality. Now, we all have to live on Earth 2, where the COVID infections never end but the pandemic is over.

“COVID no longer controls our lives,” declared outgoing President Joe Biden, who recently announced he would not seek re-election via twitter during his third COVID reinfection. It’s a favorite line of his, one that probably came to his comms people by process of elimination when they realized they couldn’t say:

“COVID is no longer a leading cause of death”

“COVID is no longer killing people”

“COVID is no longer disabling people”

“We no longer have to fear getting sick every time we leave home”

“Schools aren’t closing”

“Workplaces aren’t understaffed”

“Millions of people aren’t currently infected”

No, they settled on the most vague, subjective criteria for COVID victory, namely, “we don’t think about it anymore.” Sometimes they brag that people “aren’t wearing masks anymore.” And it’s certainly true. At the DNC, it’s quite clear, people are surely not thinking about COVID, nor wearing masks. Like Republicans in 2020, they aren’t letting some stupid old virus control their lives. Masks? More like face diapers! If a few disabled people can’t be exposed, those people should really stay home!

The Democratic National Convention is taking place on what sounds like a very nice planet. One where the oligarchs are working to solve climate change, which can be fixed with carbon credits and fracking. One where there’s no genocide in Palestine, and there aren’t any protestors outside either. Fascism is going to be defeated at the ballot box in November, and we’re all going to move forward together. COVID-19 was a virus that existed in 2020-2021 (RIP) and killed a million people under President Donald Trump (RIP), not because public services have been hollowed out over the course of decades of neoliberalism, but because one man is a rude Cheeto. We all went through something scary back then, during the pandemic. But now we know how to take care of our neighbors.

Now we know, if they get sick, I may get sick too.

Now we know, we’re as close in humanity as a cough.

But none of us are sick anymore, and none of us are coughing. Not on the planet where the Democrats live.

[coolbeesbro]

Despite my best wishes and going 5 years strong, I got Covid. So now I find myself with more free time on my hands to do personal stuff, and not feel guilty for laying around in bed/in my room for the next few days.

Between bouts of writing, naps, being buried under my cats, and finishing my final for my illustration class, I’ve been working with the clothing design I want to go with for Narinder in my fic. I’m a fan of this, but for the life of me I don’t know how to describe the kind of pants he’s wearing? I also took some time to practice drawing his face, since drawing full anthropomorphic characters in a consistent way is a bit of a challenge for me.

[notwiredforthisworld]

Somewhere in 2012, a friend introduced me to a boyband she liked. I had no idea who they were. I hadn’t even turned 10 then, and I didn’t have social media. She played me a few songs, and I remember not getting it at first, and telling her that I didn’t like it. I loved music, but I never really cared too much about getting to know artists, so her obsession didn’t really make sense to me. But for some reason, when I got home that day I searched ‘One Direction’ on youtube. I watched music videos, interviews, fan compilations. I fell down a rabbit hole of fanmade lyric videos until I knew every single word to every single song, in a language that wasn’t even mine. I still say that I learned more english from one direction interviews than I ever did in school. I’m not sure where or why the obsession started. Maybe I just wanted to fit in, to like the thing that all of my friends liked. But somewhere along the line, it became so much more than that. It was their music, playing on a loop in my headphones, that helped me drown out everything wrong around me. One Direction was the reason I fell in love with music, the reason I joined social media, the first fandom I was in. It was the reason there were even others, the reason I met so many people. My best friends.

When One Direction announced a show in my country, in 2014, my friend went to see it, even though it was halfway across the country. I was 12 at the time, and I begged my parents to go. They said no. Their excuse was that I was too young, and neither of them understood a teenage girl’s obsession with a boyband, and if I’m honest with myself, I can now understand they probably couldn’t afford it. So they said no. And they promised me that next time I could go. A year later, I was leaving a music class with that same friend when one direction posted a statement about Zayn leaving. I cried the whole way home. I think that was my first heartbreak. The year after, they split up, even if 13 year old me would yell at everyone who dared mention it that it was a break, not a break up. I changed schools that year. I lost touch with that friend. A lot of things changed, but my playlist didn’t. It never did. 15 year old me started high school in a new place, listening to that same band, with the same posters hanging on the back of my door, just as excited for solo releases as I had been for one direction.

In 2019, when Harry announced a show in my country, that friend was the first person I called. The show was postponed, due to covid, but I remember 17 year old held on to those things like her life depended on it. I think in a way, it did. During lockdown, I got closer to the fandom than I had been in years. I was straight out of high school, I was lonely, and lost, and 18 year old me found in old videos and online communities the same sense of belonging she had found at 10. In 2022, me and my friend saw Harry together. I think a part of my teenage self was healed that day. So the year after, when Louis announced a show in the same place, 20 year old me skipped a uni class to buy tickets. It was the first concert I went to alone, and I sat on the floor of an arena during my favorite song, crying in the arms of a girl I never saw again. I hope she’s okay. That’s still one of my favorite moments. In 2023, Niall announced a tour without a stop in my country. 21 year old me drained her savings to fly to Ireland and see him there. When my mom argued, I told her she didn’t get to complain, because she hadn’t let me go to a show when they were still together, and if there would never be a next time, I would have to see all of them. Whatever it took. Until there was a next time. As I write this, the fact that there will actually never be a next time is hitting me like a brick.

Out of all of them, I probably resonated with Liam’s music the least. Right now, it’s bittersweet to realize I fell out of it, because of that and because of everything that came out after. Right now, 10 year old me is grieving. But so is 12 year old me, waiting up for music video releases. So is 15 year old me, going to high school with four playing on her headphones. So is 18 year old me, watching x factor videos when she got sad during lockdown. So is 22 year old me, coming to terms with the fact that one of the people she looked up to the most is… maybe not that good of a person.

One Direction has been a part of my life for longer that they haven’t been. I don’t remember a single moment, a single age, a single milestone, that they weren’t a part of, in some way.

So right now, I’m thinking of Liam’s family, of his friends, of his child. And I’m thinking of the boys, now men, that changed my life so profoundly, without ever knowing who I was. And on another note, I’m also thinking of Maya, and the women who came forward, and who will definitely feel the weight of this, even if they shouldn’t, even if it’s not on them, because that’s the way the internet works. I know that, because one direction is why I joined it in the first place. And it changed my life. To a degree, it changed my entire view of the world.

It’s a conflicting feeling. Grief usually is. But this type of grief… there’s no guidebook. How do you grieve someone who was never actually in your life? How do you grieve a face on a screen? A voice on a track? And specially, how do you do so while knowing so many things that you just can’t accept? Can’t support? That go against everything that is your beliefs? It hurts. It hurts that he’ll never get the help he so clearly needed. It hurts that the people who have always brought me the most comfort got their hearts broken in a way that was so drastic, so painful, so definitive. It hurts that it’s so definitive. So final. I think that’s the worst part. The little tiny part of me that has spent the last almost 10 years trying to believe it wasn’t final… just got told that it is. And it hurts that it feels like it’s not acceptable to be hurting like this.

I used to think about growing old one day, being in my 50s or 60s and having to read news like this one. But we were supposed to be old. We were supposed to have time. I wasn’t supposed to be 22, grabbing my phone to a text from my friend asking if I’d heard. If I was okay. I’m not.

I can’t listen to One Direction right now. But I hope 10 year old me can still turn the volume up when her parents are fighting in the next room. I hope 13 year old me can scream the lyrics to midnight memories at her friends’ houses. I hope 16 year old me can curl up in bed listening to made in the am everytime she needs someone to be there for her, like she always did. I hope 18 year old me, starting college alone in the middle of the pandemic, can rewatch San Siro and quote every line and find comfort in the nostalgia. I hope 20 year old me is screaming along at all the solo concerts. You’ll never see the 5 of them. I’m sorry.

In the end, my heart is with everyone who personally knew and loved Liam. And then it’s with us. The ones who grew up with him. The ones who found a sense of belonging in playlists, and stan accounts, and fanfics, and concerts. Because we’ll never get a next time. The boys will never get a next time. And I’m not really sure how to handle that thought, because there was supposed to be time, for all of us.

We were supposed to have a next time. Liam deserved a next time.

There was a whole lot of history there, after all.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 7: It'll Be Nice to Feel Wanted for a Change

You and Joel decide your next steps. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 6, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

^I keep using Pedro gifs instead of Joel gifs because Joel is such a baby in this fic I'm sorry 😭

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Diet culture type language. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 7.3K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Told you, I have connections.” 

Joel rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, watching as the kids on the soccer field changed directions. 

“Still feel like business school is overkill,” he said, putting the travel mug in the cupholder of his folding chair. “Especially at this point… GET ‘EM BABY GIRL!” 

Sarah stole the ball from a girl on the other team and dodged another girl before starting to charge up field, a serious look on her face.

“GO SARAH!” You jumped up and screamed, cupping your hands around your mouth. Sarah got pinned down and looked around before passing the ball, sending the it between two defenders to another player. Her teammate got the ball and sent it careening toward the goal before the other team could change direction. It sailed in and Joel leapt to his feet, the two of you jumping and clapping. “HECK YEAH!” 

Sarah beamed at the two of you before she went to hug the girl who scored. You and Joel sat back down as play started back up. The coffee had spilled some in his excitement, the fabric arm of the chair wet. 

“Now is the time to do the business school thing,” you said as you leaned forward on your thighs, watching the game intently, your hands clasped together and tucked between your knees. “And besides, it’s not actual business school. It’s… business school light. Enough to help you draw up a business plan and that kind of shi…stuff. The kind of stuff that you’ll need if you need to take out money from the bank to get started.” 

Joel sighed. He knew you were right, he just wasn’t crazy about the idea. 

After you’d had dinner - and nearly devolved into an argument that, in hindsight, Joel really was not ready to have no matter how hard he was pushing for it - the two of you had gone back and forth about what to do next. 

Your call shouldn’t have surprised him. You’d always been an academic sort of person, the fact that you’d gotten into some fancy college had come as no surprise to Joel. Of course your first idea involved formal education. 

You reached out to a friend of a friend at the business school and got some of his recorded lectures from the era of virtual classes during COVID. He was happy to share them once you explained it, compiling some lectures, notes and guides for Joel to use. 

Joel felt bad about putting some stranger out like that but you said he was happy to do it in exchange for an autographed copy of your book. 

“I know, it’s crazy,” you’d teased when he looked at you in disbelief. “Should have let me draw on your face that one time, think of how valuable it’d be now…” 

Joel just snorted and shook his head. 

“Get in there!” 

You were on your feet again, watching as Sarah tackled the ball away from another girl. You screamed and jumped when she succeeded and Sarah smiled as she clambered back to her feet. 

“Good job, kiddo!” Joel called, still seated but smiling. You got really into Sarah’s games, Joel had quickly learned. He wasn’t about to admit it to you, but he loved it. It reminded him of when you were both in high school, when you’d watch from the front row of the stands during football games, screaming so loud that he could hear you over everyone else at the game. You drew his number on your cheek and bleached it onto a t-shirt. You’d even made Tommy a matching one, something the 10-year-old had taken as a profession of undying love and devotion back then. 

The next time you were at the house after giving him the shirt, Tommy sauntered through the kitchen where you and Joel were having a snack, topless, drenched in cologne and hair slicked back. Joel watched you try not to laugh as Tommy leaned on the table in front of you, giving you a cocky smile. 

“Hey Goldie,” he said, his voice artificially deep. Joel choked on his Coke and covered it with a cough. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. “Even though I’m here every Saturday afternoon?” 

His smile faltered. 

“Well… uh…” his eyes darted to Joel, like he was looking for help. Joel just held up his hands. “Just… didn’t expect you to be here looking so good.” 

“Oh,” Joel could see the edges of your lips pulling up. “So I don’t normally look good? Darn…” 

“No, wait…” he stood up from the table, eyes darting to Joel again. “I don’t… you…” 

“Don’t you have a matchbox car to crash or something?” Joel asked. “Stop tryin’ to pick up my girl, little man.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy muttered before stomping back off toward his room. 

“I’ll tell mom you said that,” Joel leaned forward and watched his little brother go. 

“So I’m your girl now?” You teased once he was out of ear shot. “News to me. And be nice to him, he’s just a kid and he’s a sweetheart.” 

“He thinks he’s Don Juanito is what he is,” Joel muttered, sitting back in his seat and taking a sip of his Coke. “You being my girl might be the only way he leaves you alone.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled a little anyway. 

“All this trouble because I wanted to support my best friend as he fucked up in the red zone…” 

“I’ll tell my mom on your language, too,” he said. “Don’t think she won’t smack you upside your head just because she didn’t birth you. You’re her favorite kid, but don’t push it.” 

Tommy had, thankfully, gotten over his crush on you. A fact that Joel was endlessly thankful for now that his part in helping you complete your list included finding you a fucking date. 

There was a guy on his team at work he thought would at least be something besides a total waste of time. Blake was a decent man, one of the few on the site who didn’t say disgusting shit about women the second they believed they were among other assholes who thought the same way. Joel had caught him reading once on his lunch break, something that he was sure would be important to you. You’d want someone who read. Joel should read more. 

Blake, Joel thought, would be a decent enough guy to set you up with. Not good enough for you - no one was good enough for you - but at least a damn improvement over fucking Brad. 

He just hoped it wouldn’t stick. 

Not that he wanted you to be alone. He didn’t. He wanted you to be happy. More than almost anything else he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to have whatever it took to make that happen. But he wasn’t sure how he’d get past working with someone he knew got to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. He’d hear about dates with you and things you enjoyed with a boyfriend and not just your friend. He’d have to hear all about what someone else was doing for you because he couldn’t. 

Which was fine. Should be fine. You were his friend, you’d always been his friend. He could love you as a friend, he did love you as a friend, he could get past the other shit. He could. 

And if Blake ever decided to try to talk about you the way some of the other assholes they worked with talked about their girlfriends then, well, at least Joel could fucking deck him for it. 

“She’s killing it out there,” you settled back into your folding chair and glanced over at Joel. 

“She always does,” Joel nodded. “She’s got skills, that girl.” 

“She seems to really like it, too,” you said, eyes back on Sarah. “Which is the important thing. If she’s good enough, she could get scholarships and shit. But that really only matters if she also likes it, there’s no use in her being miserable because of the demands of being a student athlete because she happens to be good a sport she doesn’t enjoy…” 

“She loves it,” Joel said. “And, honestly, I’m hopin’ that sticks and that she can get a scholarship, lord knows I can’t afford to shell out for college…” 

“You can’t now,” you corrected him good naturedly. “But once you become Joel Miller: Entrepreneur and man about town, that’s another story.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“What?” You asked. 

“You’ve just got a lot more faith in me than I do.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to?” You asked, looking at him again. “You’re my person so that’s part of my my job. Recognizing your potential.” 

“See, just the fact that you think I have potential to recognize…” 

“Oh shut up,” you swatted his arm and he laughed a little, watching you watch his daughter run back up the field. 

No, Blake didn’t deserve you. No one did. Least of all Joel. 

Sarah’s team won the game and she was beaming when she ran over to you and Joel after the post-game huddle. 

“Did you see that one steal I did?” She asked, leaning between the front seats of the truck. “It was so cool, I almost missed it but then I got it to Sophie and she was able to score and it was so COOL!” 

“Seatbelt,” Joel said. Sarah rolled her eyes but flopped back into her seat and buckled up, anyway. “Thank you. And yes, we saw, Baby Girl! You kicked ass out there.” 

“Can ass kickers pick lunch?” She asked. 

“Ass kickers can pick lunch,” Joel said. “But ass kickers can’t say ass until they’re at least 13, sorry kiddo.” 

“Aw man,” she huffed but then smiled. “I’m gonna swear so much on my 13th birthday…” 

“Yeah I bet you are,” he shook is head and caught you trying not to laugh out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, kiddo, where for lunch?” 

Joel watched her in the rearview mirror, a serious look on her face as she considered her options. 

“Dairy Queen,” she said eventually, nodding seriously. “Because then I can get a Blizzard.” 

“Whatever the ass kicker demands,” Joel said. 

Sarah ordered a burger with her blizzard before going to find a table. Joel got the steak fingers and a shake and you just stood there, staring up at the menu board with a slight frown on your face. 

“What?” Joel asked. “C’mon, it’s a limited menu, can’t be that hard.” 

“It’s just been forever since I’ve been to a DQ,” you said absently. “Not sure what to really get…” 

“Goldie,” he said, voice serious. You looked at him, frowning. “We both know what you get at Dairy Queen.” 

“Yeah, when I was a teenager,” you looked back up at the menu. “Little different now…” 

“Not gonna find a salad up there,” he said. 

“Yeah, but…” 

“Remember how the number one thing on your list was finalize your divorce?” He asked. You looked at him again, brows raised. “Well, this is one part of that you can control. You can ditch all the stupid shit that asshole put in your head, starting with the idea that you can’t get chicken fingers every once in a while.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, instead looking to the cashier. 

“She’ll do the chicken fingers basket,” Joel said. “With fries. And a medium Reese’s Blizzard.” 

“Small,” you corrected him. 

“Medium,” he said, looking over at you. “Because we both know I want to eat half of it.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Medium,” you said. 

“Alright,” he said, going to pay. 

When the food came out, he took one of your chicken fingers and your eyes went wide. 

“Hey!” 

“Oh sit tight,” he rolled his eyes and dropped one of his steak fingers in your basket. 

“What makes you think I want one of your steak fingers?” You asked, incredulous. 

“You always want one of my steak fingers,” he said. “Every time.” 

You glared at him for a second. 

“Shut up.” 

Joel laughed before dropping an onion ring in your basket and swiping a few fries. 

“So you guys really hung out all the time before, huh?” Sarah said, eating a fry and watching the two of you from across the table. 

“We did,” you smiled at Joel before looking back at Sarah. “We basically lived together, probably drove our moms crazy…” 

“Your mom, maybe,” Joel teased. “Mine loved havin’ you around all the time. Said you were a good influence.” 

“Because I was,” you teased back. 

“So,” Sarah watched you both closely. “Why didn’t I meet you until now? I mean, I met other friends of my dad’s. Did you guys have a fight or something?” 

The two of you looked at each other for a second. How the fuck was Joel supposed to explain this to his kid? Yeah, we were friends, and then the two of us decided to have sex and then just stop talking for a decade and a half? Not quite age appropriate. 

“Well,” you said, dipping one of your fries in your Blizzard before popping it in your mouth. 

“You’re so gross,” Joel said and you rolled your eyes and elbowed him in the side. 

“Shove it,” you smiled a little and looked back to Sarah. “We finished high school and I had to move for college and we just kind of stopped talking quite as much, we didn’t do a great job of keeping in touch. We were busy, it just kind of happens when you’re a grown up.” 

Sarah crinkled her nose. 

“That’s dumb,” she said. 

“You’re right,” you smiled a little, looking at Joel. “But adults do dumb things sometimes.” 

Sarah nodded slowly, taking a fry and dipping it in her Oreo Blizzard before taking a hesitant bite and chewing thoughtfully. She frowned for a moment before her eyes lit up and she dipped the fry again. 

Joel groaned. 

“Not you, too…” 

“Just gotta get on the French fries in ice cream train, Miller,” you smiled smugly. “Sweet, savory? It’s the best.” 

“She’s right, Dad,” Sarah said, dipping another fry. “This is better than ketchup.” 

“I’m surrounded by weirdos,” Joel muttered but he couldn’t help smiling a little to himself, watching you and his daughter together, a strange pull at the base of his chest at the sight. This, he thought, was how it was supposed to be. You were meant to be with the two of them, it was obvious. It was almost strange, how clearly he fit with you. He hadn’t felt like there was something distinctly missing over the last decade. He’d gone about his life, raising his daughter, trying to get ahead at work. He bought a house, kept his brother’s nose clean, buried his mother. There had been no distinct sense of absence. He thought of you often - every day, really - and it hurt but it was a dulled pain, a longing for what he had before. He hadn’t known what he’d really been missing, the way things would be with you at the stage of life you were both in now. 

But now that he had you here, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed this gaping hole at the center of his reality before. There would be no excising you from him now, it wouldn’t work, the ragged edges of your absence would be too clear in everything he did. 

He’d just have to do whatever it took to keep you in his life. Even if that meant setting you up with some guy from work. 

“So Sarah,” you said, ripping your chicken finger in half and reaching over to dip it in the gravy in Joel’s basket. 

“Hey!” 

You ignored him. 

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” You continued, eating the chicken tender. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you need?” 

“Well,” you said, brushing your hands free of crumbs before taking a sip of your drink. “I was thinking about getting a cat but I have no idea how to pick a cat. Do you think you could come with me to the shelter and help me look? Just make sure I’m finding the right one?” 

Her eyes lit up and she looked at Joel. 

“Can I Dad?” She begged. “Please? I love cats, they’re so cute, and…” 

Joel laughed, draping his arm over the bench behind you. You’d already talked with him about this, seeing if Sarah wanted to go to the animal shelter this afternoon. He knew she’d love it.

“Well,” he sighed, pretending to consider it. “If you promise to behave this week…” 

“I will!” 

“And do all your homework the first time I ask,” he said. 

“Deal!” 

“Then alright,” he conceded. “We can go with Aunt Goldie to pick a cat.” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory and Joel smiled and shook his head, settling back in the booth with his shake in his hand. 

The three of you went back to Joel’s and gave Sarah a chance to get cleaned up before heading to the shelter to look at cats. Sarah took over the radio in the car and insisted on playing Taylor Swift and you learned the chorus to one of the songs she was belting in the back seat, singing along the last time through, windows rolled down, your hand tapping out the rhythm of the song on the outside of the door. 

“So what kind of cat do you want?” Sarah asked, turning to face you and Joel as she walked backwards down the row of cages. 

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged. “Never really had a pet. One that wants to sit on my lap and purr?” 

“See what not having a pet as a kid does to you, Dad?” Sarah said, looking at Joel with wide eyes. “Leaves you totally unprepared for picking a pet later in life. I should get a cat, too, while we’re here.” 

“No,” he said. “Watch where you’re walkin’.” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically but obeyed, leading the way through the cages. 

“Oh, look at this one!” She stopped in front of a cage and laced her fingers through the bars, a black and white cat on the other side of it watching her from the back corner. “She’s so pretty!” 

Joel stood at your back as you paused, looking at the cat for a moment. 

“She is pretty,” you said. “But I want to see all of them first before I see if there are any we want to really meet.” 

Sarah stopped outside of a gray and white tabby’s cage, the cat rubbing its face over the bars. 

“Aw!” She reached a finger out and brushed along its cheek. “She’s so cute! And she seems so sweet!” 

“She does,” you agreed, reaching around Sarah to give the cat a haphazard pet. 

“Dad!” Sarah looked back over her shoulder at him. “Her name is Swiftie! She’s perfect!” 

“We’re not here for us, Baby Girl,” Joel said. “C’mon, more cats to see, don’t get attached.” 

“Well we have to meet that one now,” you said, looking at Joel and very clearly trying not to smile. “It’s required.” 

“It’s really not,” he replied. “God, you’re such a bad influence…” 

“Nah,” you replied. “I’m just always right, you should get used to it.” 

You found another cat you really wanted to meet, an orange striped one who stood on his hind legs in his cage and reached a paw through the bars while meowing loudly for attention. 

“Alright, Baby Girl,” Joel sighed, hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you go find someone who works here, see if we can meet some of these guys…” 

She squealed before running out to find someone, Joel watching her go before turning his attention back to you.

“You’re never gonna have another moment’s peace with that thing in your house,” he said, watching as you reached your fingers through the bars and scratched its head as it purred loudly, arching into your touch. 

“That’s alright,” you smiled, watching the cat. “It’ll be nice to feel wanted for a change. Totally worth it.” 

Joel just looked at you for a moment, an odd twinge in him. Maybe you were lonelier than he realized. Maybe things had been worse with your fucking ex than he’d known. Maybe you didn’t understand that he wanted you. In so many fucking ways, he wanted you. 

He just had no idea how to say that to you, not without fucking up everything else.

“Hi there,” a woman with a name tag walked up, Sarah at her side, before Joel had a chance to say anything at all. “I hear you want to see some cats?” 

You told her the ones you wanted to see and the woman led you to a small room with a bench and some cat toys before going to get the first cat. 

Joel should really have known what was going to happen after that. The three of you settled on the floor, you and Joel sitting beside each other, backs against the cinderblock wall, letting cats climb over your legs and throwing little bell-filled balls for them to chase as Sarah pulled a feather on a string across the floor. You were already attached to the orange cat but Sarah was obviously in love with the gray one. Joel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, watching as his daughter held the little cat on her lap, talking to it all soft and gentle. 

“I really should’ve known better than to do this,” he muttered and you laughed a little, leaning your head on his shoulder and watching Sarah, too. “Jesus…” 

“At least it’s a cat and not a dog,” you patted his thigh twice before letting your hand rest there near his knee. His heart beat faster. “Could be worse.” 

“So,” the woman came back in, carefully closing the door before the cat on Sarah’s lap could escape. But it didn’t look like there was any risk of it, the little thing seemingly content to stay there for the rest of time. “What are we thinking?” 

“Please, Dad?” Sarah looked at him, her eyes so wide. “I’ll do all the work, I promise. I’ll clean the litter box every day and I’ll feed her and play with her and…” 

Joel sighed. 

“You’d gotta actually do it, Baby Girl,” he said. “I mean it.” 

“I will!” She said, holding the cat close. “I promise!” 

He sighed again. 

“Alright, we’ll take that one…” 

“Fantastic,” the woman smiled. “I’ll start the paperwork…” 

“Oh, and I’m going to get Garfield, the orange one,” you said as she turned to leave. “But I’ll be changing his name…” 

“That’s great,” she said. “But we will have to check and make sure the cats are compatible before we send you home with two…” 

“No,” you laughed. “No, sorry, no, we don’t live together. He’ll be coming with me and this one will be going with them.” 

“Oh!” She laughed back. “I’m so sorry, I just thought you two were married. I’ll get started on the paperwork for both, I’ll be right back.” 

Joel watched the woman go and glanced at Sarah to make sure she was still totally absorbed with the cat on her lap before lowering his voice. 

“Could have denied that a little harder, I think…” 

He practically heard you roll your eyes. 

“What, did you want to see if we could save on adoption fees by filling out one set of paperwork?” You asked. 

“Always said we’d make good roommates,” he replied. “Seems a good a reason as any.”

You scoffed. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said.

“What?” He said, turning his head just enough to see you, still leaning against him. “I’m serious. You really tellin’ me that the idea of living with me is that terrifying?” 

“The inevitable fallout is terrifying, yeah,” you said. 

“Here we go,” the woman came back in with two clipboards and you lifted your head from Joel’s shoulder. “Once you fill this out and pay your deposit, we can run a few checks and you can come back in a few days for your new best friends!” 

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Joel smirked a little as he started completing the paperwork. “You were looking to replace me the whole time…” 

“Well clearly yes,” you said absently, working on your own documents. “Furry, loud, opinionated… You’re basically twins, why do I need you to keep coming over when I’ll have Puck?” 

“Puck?” Joel frowned. “Like hockey puck?” 

“Puck like the fairy from Midsummer,” you replied. Joel must have still looked confused because when you looked over at him, you rolled your eyes. “The mischievous one from Midsummer Night’s Dream? The Shakespeare play? I know you read it, we had to read it sophomore year…” 

“C’mon Dad,” Sarah looked up from the cat in her lap. “Even I know that one.” 

“Alright, well,” Joel said. “You two are the smartest people I know, not fair to judge me by that standard…” 

Joel caught a glimpse of you smiling out of the corner of his eye as he finished the paperwork. 

*** 

“I have a question for you.” 

You opened your eyes to see Joel looking down to you, your head in his lap, his thumb brushing your temple in a soothing rhythm. It was late. Sarah had gone to bed hours before, worn out after her game and suckering her dad into adopting a cat and going to Target to pick out every toy under the sun for her new pet and yours. You were pretty sure you weren’t going home that night, too comfortable in your position against Joel.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes and settling into him and the couch again. “I can’t convince Sarah to give up the cat. My position as the cool aunt is too tenuous, I’m going to side exclusively with Sarah in all conflicts for the foreseeable future…” 

“I could just refuse to pick it up in a few days,” Joel mused. “Tell her the shelter denied our application because of my history as a cold hearted killer with no mercy.” 

“Ah yes,” you smiled a little. “I forgot, Joel Miller, heartless killing machine.” 

“Cold hearted,” he corrected. “Get it right.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” 

“But no,” he continued. “Not what I was going to ask.”

You opened one eye, looking up at him, trying not to think about how soft his eyes were. 

“Shoot,” you said, closing your eye again. 

“Was thinking about the lists…” he trailed off. 

“That wasn’t a question, Miller,” you said after a moment. 

“I’m gettin’ there, don’t rush me, woman.” 

You opened your eyes just enough to see him over you. His hand slipped around to cup the crown of your head. He was so handsome. There should be rules about that, there should be rules about men who are that beautiful. They should need licensing or something, they shouldn’t just be allowed to freely exist, endangering women everywhere. 

You closed your eyes again. 

“Take your time, Miller,” you said. “Not going anywhere.” 

“Anyway,” he said and you could hear his eye roll. His thumb stroked your hair. “Both our lists have relationship shit on ‘em…” 

His voice trailed off and your heart beat a little faster. 

“Yes?” You said when he didn’t continue. 

“Well, you were sayin’ you didn’t know how to do the whole… app thing.” 

“Right…” 

“What if…” he took a deep breath. “We tried going out together. You bring someone for me, I bring someone for you…” 

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t help it. You knew the kind of relationship you had with Joel, the kind of relationship you’d always had with Joel. He’d made it perfectly clear that anything beyond that was totally out of the question for him and you’d accepted that. It had taken a long time - and a failed marriage - but you accepted it. 

That didn’t make the concept of picking out a girlfriend for him sting any less. 

“Just… then you don’t have to fuck around on apps,” he said quickly when you didn’t reply. “And I don’t have to waste my time on someone who wouldn’t work in a million years because you’re doing my thinking for me…” 

“Instead of your dick?” You asked, opening your eyes. He smiled a little. Goddammit, him and his fucking dimple. 

“Exactly,” he said, cocking his head so it was more in line with yours. He looked a little uncertain, his eyes searching yours. “So… what do you think?” 

“Well,” you sighed. “Makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose…. When were you thinking?” 

“I did say we should move ‘get laid’ to the top of your list,” he smirked a little. “So maybe next weekend?” 

“Next weekend?” You sat up so fast that you almost smacked into his nose, your head spinning for a moment. Joel grabbed you to steady you as you twisted haphazardly to face him again, legs crossed in front of you. “Doesn’t that seem fast?” 

He looked at you, puzzled, as he turned to face you, too. 

“Goldie, you and fuckin’ Brad…” 

“Gale.” 

“…Split up a year ago. You gotta get back out there, it’s not fast.” 

“No, I mean,” you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking at him again. “Isn’t that a little fast to find someone for each other? I wouldn’t even know where to start…” 

There was something about the sheepish look on his face that made your eyes narrow. 

“What.” 

“I… might have someone in mind for you already,” he flinched as he said it. 

“Seriously?” 

“Look, I just don’t want you dating some random asshole, alright?” He said. “He’s a good guy, think you’d have at least some shit in common, feels like I could trust him with you…” 

“Gee, thanks,” you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being serious!” He looked down at his lap for a moment, absently picking at a seam on his couch. “I worry about you. I know shit’s dangerous for women, alright? Much rather you be out with someone who I know isn’t gonna hurt you than some guy I don’t know that I can trust…” 

“Careful Miller,” you said wryly. “Someone might think you care about me or something.” 

“Well, can’t have that now can we,” he looked up to meet your eyes again, small smile on his face. “I’m already worrying about this shit with Sarah and she’s years off from dating. Outside of her, you’re the most important person in the world to me. Want to know you’re OK out there when I’m not with you. And I’m assuming that you wouldn’t want me to tag along on every damn date you have…” 

“Bold assumption.” 

He glared at you. 

“And this way I can know,” he said. “So yeah, alright, it’s crossed my mind.” 

“Have you talked to this guy?” You asked. “He might want nothing to do with me.” 

“I ain’t worried about that part,” he waved you off. “You’re you and he’s a smart guy, he’ll see what’s on the table. Much more worried about you conning someone into goin’ out with me…” 

“Oh ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve ever had a problem landing women…” 

“The kind that stick?” He raised his brows. “Yeah, I have.” 

“Fair enough,” you sighed, thinking about the few people you knew in Austin. There was an adjunct professor in your department who you thought might be Joel’s type that you wouldn’t vomit at the thought of seeing him with. “I think I have someone who will go for it. Next weekend?” 

“Next weekend,” he confirmed and then laughed a little. “C’mon, don’t look so miserable about it. Whoever you end up with it’ll be better than fuckin’ Brad.” 

“Gale,” you corrected again and then slumped forward until your forehead was pressed into Joel’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms gently around you. “This sucks. I got married so I wouldn’t have to date anymore. This is bullshit, I want a refund.” 

He laughed once. 

“Don’t think that’s how it works, Goldie,” he said, giving you a little squeeze. “Refund part, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’d just like the best years of my life back.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment, one hand finding a gentle, easy path over your back. 

“Come on,” he said eventually. “You feel tired. Let’s get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Assuming you mean here at this point?” 

He scoffed. 

“Ship sailed on you goin’ home hours ago,” he said. “I know who I’m dealing with.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

You pulled away from him slowly and followed him up to his room. He loaned you a t-shirt and you got changed in his bathroom, taking your makeup off as best you could with the world’s most basic facial scrub and water before going to find him in bed. He was sitting up, his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you for a moment when you came in and looked back at his phone for a fraction of a second before looking back at you again, his mouth open slightly. 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” he said quickly, plugging his phone in and putting it face down on his nightstand. “Just forgot what shirt I gave you.” 

You looked down at it, a faded shirt from the Houston Space Center. You frowned for a moment.

“Was this from when we went when we were kids?” You laughed. “On a field trip?” 

“It is,” he said. “I wanted something that would fit as I was bulking up. Might have been a bit ambitious on the size…” 

“You’ll have to model it for me sometime,” you said, climbing into bed next to him. He turned out the lamp and you heard him lay down. You gave him a second to adjust before you slipped against his side, his arm gong around you. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead as your cheek found its place on his chest. 

“You’re sure about this dating thing?” You asked quietly into the dark. He was so warm next to you. Warm and big and firm and safe. You tried not to think about how desperately you wanted him to say no, in fact, he wasn’t sure. That all he was sure of was that he wanted you. 

He sighed instead. 

“Think so,” he said.”You really that worried about it?” 

You shrugged against him. 

“Goldie.” 

“Just…” you sighed. “I fucked up one marriage already. Why should I think I’ll get it right next time?” 

“You realize that shit isn’t all on you, right?” He asked. “I don’t even know what happened but… I can just about promise that it’s not all on you. Be surprised if any of it is. You gotta stop letting that asshole determine your whole life, Goldie. He’s not worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, moving closer to him. “You’re probably right.” 

Joel made sure both of you were up before Sarah in the morning, sparing you both from any of her prying questions, and you spent the morning with them before going home again and trying to write but getting nowhere. You wasted hours on an outline this time before hating the story so much that it made your stomach clench to even look at it. It was so pathetic, a lost woman clinging to a past lover so hard that she couldn’t chart a path forward, and you couldn’t seem to chart a way toward a satisfying end. You started a fire in your fireplace for the first time just so you could burn the paper you’d wasted on this one. You had a glass of wine as you watched the flames devour it, ash floating to the hearth like snow, white and dead. 

Part of it, you were sure, was the fact that you were dreading the idea of talking with Natalie, the adjunct you were going to try to set up with Joel. She’d like him. Of course she’d like him. It was Joel, everyone liked Joel, that was the problem. She’d like him and you’d have to sit there and watch him like her. Love her, eventually. If not her then someone else. You hadn’t been able to handle that when you were 18 and the fact that you were in your 30s now didn’t seem to have changed much. That’s part of why you’d done what you’d done after prom. A small part, perhaps, but a part. 

But you were a grown up now, no longer a girl trying to find her way through the maze of the adult reality you found yourself thrust into. Things were going to be different this time. 

They had to be. 

May 2008, the Tuesday after prom 

“Honey?” 

You could hear the frown in your mom’s voice as you stumbled to your bedroom. 

“That you?” 

You caught yourself on the door frame. Your head was still spinning, why was it still spinning? It felt like you were going to throw up. 

“Yeah,” you managed. “Just me.” 

“You’re home early,” she said, her voice closer. “No Joel today?” 

“No,” you said, hoping you sounded normal. “No Joel today.” 

“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “Hungry? I can make you something…” 

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… tired. Going to lie down, I think.” 

You didn’t wait for a response, just going in your room and closing the door behind you. Your walls were covered in movie posters, the faces of strangers you felt like you knew through their films an odd comfort as you sat on the edge of your bed. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

That’s what he’d said. Anyone else. Anyone but you.

You weren’t sure how long you stared into space. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to go back to your life now? 

You’d never been a particularly social person - writing all the time didn’t lend itself to vibrant friendships - but Joel had been your person for almost three years. He was who you had, who you told everything to, who you wanted to do everything with. Leaving him behind was going to be the hardest part of going away to school - so hard that part of you was still in denial that it would work that way at all. Part of you thought that he’d find some way to come with you over the summer and it’d be the two of you against the world the way it seemed like it always had been. 

But he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want you. 

I wish it were anyone else. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your voice wet. 

Graduation was soon but it was still three weeks out. Three torturous weeks of being next to the person you loved most in the world when they didn’t love you, not really, not at all. 

You weren’t sure how long you stared at the wall when it occurred to you. 

You forced your body to move, joints stiff, and went to your computer, scrolling back through your email history to one from Dr. Gale Newton. An invitation to a summer creative writing workshop, one you’d decided to pass on because it meant leaving Joel months earlier. You hadn’t been ready for that before. You’d gone about checking with your counselor at school to see if it was even possible before deciding you weren’t ready for it. 

You were ready now. 

You called the number in his email signature and the phone rang twice before a woman answered. 

“Dr. Newton’s office,” she said. “This is Florence.” 

“Hi Florence,” you said, sniffing a bit, hoping it didn’t sound like you’d been crying. “Is… um… Is Dr. Newton available?” 

“I can check,” she said. “It’s a bit late in the day… Can I ask who’s calling and what this is about?” 

You gave her your name and told her that you were a candidate for the summer program. 

“Ah, right,” she said. “You were the one denial. Can’t say I remember that happening before! Let me see… yes, one moment, I’ll transfer you back.” 

It didn’t take long. Dr. Newton answered on the first ring, saying your name before you had a chance to say anything at all. 

“I was wondering if I’d get to speak with you directly,” he said. “I’ve never had a student turn down the intensive before.” 

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” you said, voice trembling a little. “I thought I had some things I needed to finish up here before I moved but, as it turns out, I can come up sooner. I was wondering if my spot would still be available?” 

“Well,” he sighed. You could hear the rustle of pages on his end. “The program did already start and you are the only incoming freshman I invited - your online portfolio was quite impressive - I wouldn’t want you to fall behind. How soon could you be here?” 

“I could be there for the start of next week’s sessions,” you said. “And I can try to keep up with some work in the mean time if you want to email me some prompts or assignments…” 

“No, no need for that,” he said. You heard the click of a mouse. “I’m going back over some of your work now, I think this will work fine for what we’re doing next week. There’s a short story here, Golden Boy, that we can workshop alongside the fresh pieces for the coming sessions.” 

You quickly clicked over to the simple blog you’d made to showcase your writing for college applications. You scrolled past one of your senior portraits and bio at the top down to the work and found the story. You couldn’t remember if you’d put the whole piece up or just parts but it was the whole piece, one you’d written about Joel. 

It’d be better if it were anyone else.

Your chest got tight. 

“Perfect,” you said. “That’s great, thank you so, so much…” 

“I hope to see some more dedication out of you when you arrive here,” he said, voice a little more stern now. “I reviewed your portfolio personally and you show a lot of promise but so does every student who comes through this program. If you’re not willing to make sacrifices and work for it, I can’t help you hone that raw skill into what it has the potential to become.” 

“I understand,” you said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you think I need…” 

“I’m willing to work with you one on one,” he said. “Get you caught up over the next few weeks, both because you missed some of the intensive but because you haven’t had any classes here yet. It’s going to be a lot of time and a lot of effort but I’m happy to put in the work if you’re willing to do the same. I expect you to be devoted to this program, do you think you can do that?” 

“Yes sir,” you said. “Absolutely.” 

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll email you my personal cell phone number, call me there when you get to town. I’ll make sure you get set up in your dorm and we can get to work. Sound good?” 

“Yes,” you said, your eyes falling on a picture of you and Joel laughing on his couch that glared at you from its place next to your computer monitor. You turned it to face the wall. “Yes it does.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: So we now know at least SOME of Bambi's side of the story. Not the whole of it yet but some!

What do you think? Teenaged overreaction? Totally makes sense? Neither? Both?

Also... I hope you caught that Gale had a picture of her before he met her and picked up on how much he'd selected her to be a pupil of particular interest from the get go. He's so slimy. Or, I hope he comes off that way, anyway. He's slimy in my head, at least!

Thank you, as always, for reading. I hope you're enjoying the ride as Joel and Goldie navigate their tangled friendship!

Love you!!!