#unfortunately they tend to be VERY underfunded

[a-method-in-it]

For those in the United States, the FTC has a guide for what to do if you are the victim of revenge porn (including a link to check laws in your state) here: https://consumer.ftc.gov/articles/what-do-if-youre-target-revenge-porn

And if you do want to go the lawyer route but can't afford it, there indeed may be lawyers who will do the work for free in your area. A good place to start would be to search "Legal Aid + [your city/state]"

(And as a side note, legal aid organizations also help with things like evictions or landlord issues, healthcare access, immigration issues, problems with government benefits, sealing juvenile criminal records, dealing with predatory debt collectors, workplace discrimination, and general domestic violence issues beyond just revenge porn)(which is 100% an intimate partner violence issue)

SOMEONE will advocate for you

[steelminds]

waddles in with the intent of hearing about the kugiesara thoughts

HIII I LOVE YOU ... this. basically walks straight into headcanon territory i think. but generally speaking, sara & kugie are both very headstrong (which isn't bad, and doesn't mean they're Doomed to never work) and sara often gets overwhelmed in the face of intense anger. she doesn't know how to handle her own emotions, and kugie tends to get angry when she's upset, which is difficult for sara to navigate because. she's not used to it! and she would never really get the chance to open up that sort of communication with kugie because being vulnerable is just. stupid difficult. and it doesn't flow as well as it would with, say, literally anyone else in the group (besides ranmaru, who shuts down in the face of his negative emotions. but that's for another rant) -- which is the main reason i say it wouldn't last!

of course, that doesn't mean they're not close!! in the future, i imagine they're very close - not physically, because kugie is. bad at initiating that stuff. but they would probably help each other hide a dead body if that situation ever arose. they do genuinely mean a lot to each other, and just because they don't click romantically doesn't mean their dynamic means any less to each other.

more thoughts below but ... it veers a Lot more into the headcanon territory. heavy warning for transphobia & grooming in regards to kugie's character/past.

i've established this already, but. kugie is genuinely so difficult to be vulnerable with. there's a lot of deep-seated trauma with her to address, all very recent, and she doesn't know where to start. in my headcanons, ranmaru & kugie briefly dated back in junior high, before ranmaru transitioned socially; it was very brief, very awkward, and in the present they don't really talk about those days unless it comes up while they're alone -- and to get to the point, not even ranmaru really knows the full story.

kugie got a lot of shit for being openly transfem. she really loved playing soccer and basketball for her school's teams, but always hated to play with the guys because she felt out of place. the school itself let her play on the girls team, which was significantly more underfunded and therefore more 'laidback', but the girls on the team didn't feel the same way. in addition to being bullied, kugie straight up lost her opportunity to be on any sports teams at all, which was very isolating. while ranmaru had been there by her side the whole time, there's only so much he could do and he wasn't ever good at comforting people anyway, so. very unfortunate situation.

she didn't particularly like confiding in her parents either; i do think the kizuchis are like, much more normal in comparison to other parents in yttd, but they don't come without their flaws. this was around the time kugie and kanna's relationship was still very rocky, and she genuinely hated how much effort her parents were putting into making sure kanna felt welcomed and safe and adjusted, without ever really checking on kugie - and with no one to confide in really, well. she ended up turning to a different adult, one with very ill intentions.

with ranmaru having moved their final year of junior high, kugie had pretty much been fully reliant on that adult. it's not really until stuff improves with kanna and her own parents that she really comes to terms with what's happening, but even then, that emotional connection is really hard to dismantle once it's there. going into high school, things weren't much different, but having that fresh start changed things for kugie, and that didn't sit well with her groomer. ironically, it's when things started getting bad between them that kanna found out, because she caught kugie (uncharacteristically) anxiously pacing, and kugie opened up a little bit out of desperation.

around the middle of her first year of high school would've been when the lady finally cut contact with kugie. it's around the time she met anzu, who then introduced her to... all the other high schoolers. so she'd been going through a lot, everything is still ridiculously fresh, and the more time passes, she's realizing how bad everything was. fun!

so, to circle back to kugiesara specifically: sara, being demiromantic, likes to know people front and back before she ever considers dating them. of course, sara doesn't come to that realization regarding her preferences until much MUCH later, so when they start dating initially - for jokes, of course, because it'd be funny - sara just goes along with it. but it never really feels like either of them imagined a romantic relationship to be, but maybe they're just both inexperienced.

they ended up fighting a lot, especially as sara opened up about her family at home. while ryoko and joe tend to gently push on mr chidouin's behavior, kugie is just. very blunt with it. and it really upset sara, being in a place where she's not ready to deal with it yet (as in she still actively defends him, even where she's been made uncomfortable by him). then it just sort of branched onto other things, then they got some space from each other, and well. they never 'officially' broke up but there was just some kind of consensus between everyone like. Yeah okay it's over. and after a few weeks it all just kind of dispersed . . . so they're normal now! and no one ever wants to talk about that single month between them.

but yeah tldr in my headcanons they make each other deeply worse. the funniest thing i could see out of it is pissing off shin if he and kanna ever reconnected and whatnot, but that's about it. <3 they are number one normal core

[orenvs3000w25]

Unit 3

As a university student who loves nature, I have spent many hours hiking, exploring parks and marvelling at the beauty of our planet. As lucky as I am to be able to experience these things, not everyone experiences nature the same way I do. Privilege: the often unspoken advantages that come with factors like race, socioeconomic status or physical ability. Privilege plays a huge role in shaping how people access and interpret the natural world. For this post, I will define privilege as the systematic advantages that some people have, often at the expense of others, because of their identity or circumstances.

Hiking 'The Chief' in Stawamus Provincial Park, British Columbia.

One of the most prominent ways that privilege shows up in nature is in access. Growing up in a middle-class neighbourhood, I had the luxury of nearby parks, trips and a school science program with many outdoor opportunities. But not everyone has these opportunities. Many marginalized communities face barriers like the lack of green space or inadequate transportation to outdoor areas. Without easy access, it can be hard to build a connection with nature, and this connection is often the first step in caring about environmental issues. There is also the issue of feeling safe in outdoor spaces. As a woman, I have had many moments walking around alone where I have felt uneasy. Although, this may be amplified if one does not live in a very safe neighbourhood or does not have someone available to accompany them outdoors. The outdoors should belong to everyone and everybody should feel safe to explore the world around them, yet these unfortunate circumstances can make that very difficult.

Privilege also plays a huge role in environmental education and how people learn about nature. Schools in wealthier areas tend to have better-funded science programs, field trips and extracurricular activities that can introduce students to the love of nature. Meanwhile, students in underfunded schools might miss out on these experiences entirely. This uneven field means that some kids grow up with the tools and the mindset to engage with nature on a deeper level, while others do not.

Another layer of privilege that I think is very interesting as an immigrant living on Indigenous soil is our western and Eurocentric mindset of nature interpretation. I am glad that more people are shedding light on the Indigenous knowledge systems that have existed for millennia. These Indigenous perspectives offer valuable insights into ecological balance and stewardship, but are often treated as an afterthought rather than a pillar of environmental science.

I think that loving nature means wanting everyone to have the chance to experience and love it too. Privilege affects who gets that chance, but by recognizing and working to omit these disparities, we can create a world where everyone feels welcome in the outdoors!

[nothorses]

TW: descriptions of ableism

More SpEd input, but this time from disabled students (US based, I have a 504 plan, my friend who is helping me write this has an IEP)

Especially needs to be more education about disability in rural/poor areas. Our district has very little funding, and most of what we get goes to sports. And while that's important (sports scholarships are one of the only ways some kids graduate) it leaves the other departments with nothing.

One of my teachers (not in SpEd) had a fundamental misunderstanding of what autism even was. He didn't understand how my autism caused me to not talk sometimes or need different instructions, and tried to deny my accomodations. Friend has been told she couldn't use the elevator while sitting in her wheelchair. Told to use the stairs in her wheelchair. The SpEd teachers are working overtime trying to educate their coworkers but aren't getting anywhere cause "that's not what I learned in school".

Side note: education not only about disability but how to include them/treat them better for both teachers and students. The full-time SpEd kids in my school are kept so separate that people have asked if we even have the program. I only see them on the way in/out of the building, or I hear them from down the hall. I don't know where their classroom is. I don't know their names. They clean the lunch tables for us after both lunch periods. I don't think they get a say in that. And that's fucked, they aren't free labor. I've heard their teachers talk badly to them. Say "calm down or you can't see your friends". That's also fucked. We're literally encouraged to not interact with them for some reason. And they're kept so away we can't. They don't look happy.

Sorry, got angry. tl:dr is more education training inclusion efforts and money needs to go to disability stuff in poor areas who don't usually get that. I think what my school does shouldn't happen.

That is incredibly fucked, I'm sorry. And unfortunately also not super far off from what I've heard, even in less rural areas- that kids enrolled in special ed programs and kept out of "mainstream" classrooms tend to be isolated & often mistreated by their teachers, and that there is very little oversight because of how "niche" the field is viewed.

There is unfortunately an issue of just, like, basic societal ableism that impacts how schools operate on that front; individuals are not isolated from broader society, and they're gonna absorb and bring into their jobs and schools the biases they learn from the people around them.

This is an issue in progressive areas as well, but you're absolutely right that the smaller and more rural districts often lack the resources, support, and education that larger and more urban districts benefit from.

I will say, though, that there is a pretty harsh racial divide here as well; even in large urban schools, the schools that are majority-BIPOC are still going to be underfunded and under-supported in comparison to the white schools in wealthier areas, with higher property taxes and, subsequently, more income to the schools.

Equalizing funding a little more would do a lot to this end, and so would better oversight. And also, it's a complicated and nuanced issue that needs attention on all fronts. You make a great point that some people just aren't going to "get it", even with better education; many of them would do better with more support, but a lot of what we need is in policy changes and how we educate future educators, too.

[system-architect]

10, 13 and 15 (actually for all your Inquest rats if you feel like it, mainly 15 if I have to pick)

"am a tired dummy and forgot to say "for Plex" in the previous ask 👀💦" well no worries bc IM GOING TO ANSWER FOR ALL OF THEM📣

10. How do they feel towards Inquest leadership? (Optional: How do they feel towards Kudu and Kuda?

plex: not gonna lie plex thinks theyre scary and kinda nuts LMAO . he stays out of that shit!!! not keen to get vivisected!!!!!!! he DOES have a complex relationship with his overseer and director tho (hot and fresh off the presses: that is because, unknown to either of them until recently, director vahnn* is his.. DAD !!!)

*sasha's oc. i've drawn him twice or smth oop lmao. he's the scary undercut man here. this was b4 vahnn knew their relation.. :")

daizz: daizz Respects inquest leadership and views them as visionaries. generally. i think the only qualms he has with higher-ups tend to be things like allocation of funds (he always feels the enforcers are underfunded) and other somewhat inconsequential grievances.

daizz... i dont know how else to phrase this sorry. he has a bit of a hard-on for kudu. he's obsessed with the man. feels he was a visionary ahead of his time. he literally has framed kudu posters in his office. he got to witness kudu in person Once before kudu died and it was daizz's gay awakening probably (he isn't aware of this but i am.)

he actually has like.. strange.. respect-infused semi-familial feelings about kuda because daizz's mother, prova, is an exceptionally high ranking enforcer and works as one of kuda's personal guards! he's only glimpsed her maybe once or twice though, they've never hung out or anything crazy, but they're like one degree of separation lmao

kai: feels theyre all greedy bastards just looking out for their personal interests and he is correct. he has no particular loyalty or respect for higher ranking folks (except daizz). he'll still follow orders tho bc that is simply what he does

toza: she has a decent amount of respect for her immediate supervisors and bosses, she'll follow them without too much question, but has no particularly strong ties to leadership further up the ladder than that. i think she might have a weird fondness for kudu and kuda bc based on what she's heard about them, she feels like they have/had some traits in common with her/are the same 'type of person' as her (it's the desperate violent streaks)

13. What was their real motive for joining the Inquest? Whatever their job or area of research is, why is it that they feel they can't perform it within normal society-- why do something so extreme and push moral boundaries?

plex: going to be honest with you.. plex joined the inquest because he is stupid, basically. he wanted to figure out his father's whereabouts and he knows his father was associated with the inquest and just sort of.. went in that direction. he didnt think about how dumb this was until recently. unfortunately he's now entrenched and starting to Like It now that he's getting to perform some of his own research. inquest is family business for him now ig.

daizz: LOYALY.. HONOR.. VALOR.. ZEAL... VISION............. daizz is a Guardian with a capital g and he really truly Believes in the inquest and what they're doing. he's intensely religio-philosophical wrt the eternal alchemy, and he believes in the inquest's vision of the alchemy (minus the asuran dominion bit.. he dgaf about that). him and his mother were both originally peacemakers, her very high ranking, and she became disillusioned and he connected w/ her disillusionment, and so when she defected he followed

kai: kai wants money. kai is also kind of a rude mean violent person who, as gregarious and chatty and friendly and sociable as he can be, does not function fully well in normal society as a former ultrarich kid turned burnout gambler. he could've just as easily been a bounty hunter or a mercenary. the inquest is simply always hiring, is consistent with their delivery of paychecks, and was close by.

toza: sasha asked me this one specifically so it gets its own post in a hot minute ok

15. Were they involved with any of the canon GW2 events that involved the Inquest-- Thaumanova, Crucible of Eternity, Sorrow's Embrace, Rata Primus, etc? (Optional: How'd they escape when the Commander rolled in?)

plex:

daizz + kai: both daizz and kai were stationed in rata primus when it fell. this is where they met, actually-- kai was a fresh-faced enforcer recruit just shipped out from metrica, and daizz was the leader of the unit he was assigned to. kai is the sole survivor of daizz's unit, and they had to pry themselves out tooth and nail. daizz was able to find and retrieve kai halfway, and then after kuda was secured, she very gracefully allowed prova a brief leave to go find her son in the cube, so prova managed to track them down and help pry them out from there. they narrowly dodged the commander, it was just joko's forces they were fighting through

toza:

[bumblebeeappletree]

We thought it was about time to scale up our marine rewilding efforts which is why we have decided to build our very own kelp factory! Together with Seaforester and IPL we are embarking on a journey to build a kelp nursery and test an innovative restoration technique at scale.

🌊 🌱 Learn more about us and the Mossy Earth Membership:

https://mossy.earth/?utm_source=youtu...

🙌 Subscribe to Mossy Earth: https://www.youtube.com/c/MossyEarth?...

💪 OUR PARTNERS

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

MARE-IPLeiria https://mare.ipleiria.pt/

SeaForester https://seaforester.org/

START REWILDING OUR PLANET TODAY

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

With us, you will restore nature and fight climate change every month

🌲 Plant native trees to capture carbon

🐺 Rewild habitats to support biodiversity

🐉 Support underfunded species and ecosystems

Become a Mossy Earth Member: https://mossy.earth/?utm_source=youtu...

⏱️TIMESTAMPS⏱️

0:00 intro

1:42 Why bring back kelp?

2:02 Kelp distribution and decline

2:51 Restoration trial results

3:50 Green gravel technique

5:07 Starting a bigger experiment

🔎 ABOUT THIS PROJECT

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

Since 2020 we have been working with SeaForester to restore kelp forests in Portugal. These underwater forests are astonishing havens for marine life which also improve water quality and sequester carbon. Unfortunately, large areas of kelp have disappeared from the coast of Portugal but reverting this trend has been difficult. One of the challenges is that restoration efforts tend to require extensive diving which quickly becomes costly and time-consuming. A new technique called “green gravel” has been developed to address this challenge and make large scale marine reforestation possible. It involves growing kelp attached to pebbles in a lab before deploying them at suitable locations in the ocean. For this project, we are building a kelp nursery that will allow us to test this method on a larger scale.

➡️ Read all about this project here:

https://mossy.earth/projects/rewildin...

🎥 Kelp videos provided by:

Alvaro Gallego

João Nuno Franco

Jan Verbeek

Inês Louro

📚 Citations List:

de Visser S., Thébault E., de Ruiter P.C.,2012. Ecosystem Engineers, Keystone Species. In: Meyers R.A. (eds) Encyclopedia of Sustainability Science and Technology. Springer, New York, NY. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4419-08...

Araújo, R.M., Assis, J., Aguillar, R. et al., 2016. Status, trends and drivers of kelp forests in Europe: an expert assessment. Biodiversity Conservation,25, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10531-016-11...

Fredriksen, S., Filbee-Dexter, K., Norderhaug, K.M. et al.,2020. Green gravel: a novel restoration tool to combat kelp forest decline. Sci Rep 10, 3983. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-020-60...

Eger, A. M., Layton, C., McHugh, T. A, Gleason, M., and Eddy, N.,2022. Kelp Restoration Guidebook: Lessons Learned from Kelp Projects Around the World. The Nature Conservancy, Arlington, VA, USA. https://www.scienceforconservation.or...

Teagle, H., Hawkins, S., Moore, P. and Smale, D., 2017. The role of kelp species as biogenic habitat formers in coastal marine ecosystems. Journal of Experimental Marine Biology and Ecology, 492, pp.81-98. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jembe.2017....

Originally posted on YouTube on May 8th, 2022.

[wriokitty]

the delicate line between friends and lovers ft. alhaitham — in which the akademiya’s scribe and the bimarstan’s head nurse develop some serious feelings for each other in between hook ups. evidently, neither of them are very good at being able to communicate these feelings, though.

contains: 14.0k word count ; female reader ; explicit content—not suitable for minors ; fwb to lovers ; mutual pining ; banter and teasing ; angst with happy ending (this one goes out to all the girls who wonder if their fav would choose them: they would!) ; reader is the (very overworked) head nurse at the bimarstan ; mentions of blood and injuries (alhaitham) ; reader has insecurities ; jealousy ; dry humping—and kaveh being a major cockblock unfortunately ; alcohol drinking—4ggravate (minus alhaitham) appearance! ; clothed sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; no prep ; creampie

the akademiya is well connected in its networks. meaning one thing: gossip travels fast. against his will, alhaitham learns far more about people than he wants to, details upon details that travel even through his soundproof earpieces at times. 

today, for example, he learns without meaning to that the akademiya has decreased the previously approved funding for the bimarstan. this piece of information is able to irritate him enough that he almost itches to demand for the title of acting grand sage once more. sumeru, a nation of free healthcare, couldn’t possibly hope to underfund one of the pillars of the citizens and their well-being. not unless someone who’s as incapable and underdeveloped in critical thinking as the last grand sage himself (before alhaitham, of course) was in office. 

he walks to the bimarstan, footsteps heavy in the dead quiet of the night as he trudges through the door of the hospital. you’re already there to greet him, eyeing the way the arm under his cloak is tense and curled under the fabric. 

“another eremite attack?” you murmur, walking towards an empty room as you gaze at him over your shoulder to follow.

he does so wordlessly, eyeing the tired, overworked, and disarrayed nurses along the hospital as he walks past them. 

you’re no different, he studies, watching as you stifle a yawn, taking in the darkened circles under your eyes as he sits on an examination table while you bring out the necessary supplies to clean his wound. 

the akademiya—no, sumeru was blooming under his lead. that much he was aware of. you’d said it yourself, too, the first time he came. 

oh, it’s you! we’re most grateful for your changes, acting grand sage, you’d smiled at him, they’ve really helped improve things here at the bimarstan.

he wasn’t expecting that. the only reason why he’d stopped at the hospital for care instead of going home was because he’d run out of bandages, nothing more. one look at you had all but changed that, the tilt of your lips as they smile spinning his world on its axis in a completely new direction. you tend to his cuts that night, and even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, he returns after the next expedition. 

and the next. and the next. and then it becomes routine. 

for a while, alhaitham told himself he only came to the hospital for his wounds instead of patching himself up after long expeditions in the desert because it was nice to see how the bimarstan ran. it’s important for him to be aware of necessary changes that must be made as acting grand sage—however temporary the job may be, he has every intention of doing it properly. so he studies and assesses the functionality of the hospital and makes decisions accordingly. those things can only happen if he visits frequently. 

but then he starts to notice that his feet truly only carry him here on the nights you work. though you work often and late into the night, too. being head nurse requires as much, of course, but he notices all too quickly that he’s begun to memorize your schedule. 

slowly but surely, he resigns himself to fate. he comes for you. 

“it’s just a light graze,” he mumbles after some time, revealing the small gash on his arm under his cloak. your eyebrows crinkle in concern for a moment before you set off to work, methodically and expertly cleaning away at the dried blood and disinfecting the wound. 

he doesn’t talk for a while before he finally says, “you’re short-staffed.”

it’s a question presented as an observation—he has a habit of doing that, of speaking his mind and waiting for an explanation to follow. 

you sigh, bandaging his arm as you murmur, “people are quitting. it’s been hectic in here—and the funding cut doesn’t exactly allow for a pay that seems worth the grueling hours.”

you love your job. it’s the first thing alhaitham knows about you. you take it very seriously, scolding anyone, even the acting grand sage, about proper care and healthy habits. 

did you stitch these yourself? you’d gasped when you first noticed the scars on his chest, that’s dangerous! do you know the infections you could contract from an improperly tended wound?”

it’s not as amusing now to watch the other nurses listen awkwardly as you scold him. he’s back to being the scribe, no longer tied to the title of sage. the nurses aren’t as alarmed anymore by your lack of formality—although, he’s sure by now, they’re a bit used to it too. 

“and i assume you’re not resting properly?” he gives you a knowing look, reaching forward with his free hand and brushing a callused but gentle thumb under your bruised eyebags. 

you close your eyes at the fleeting touch, humming before giving him a guilty smile. 

“i can’t let things get out of hand here.”

“you should take your own advice,” he snorts, “what was it again? something about proper rest and sleep to ensure a healthy lifestyle?”

“if you’re here to throw my words back in my face, i recall also mentioning getting into less trouble,” you huff, momentarily glaring at his arm before meeting his eyes. “what happened to being more careful?”

“like i said,” he shrugs, hissing slightly when you press on his wound to prove your point, “it’s just a graze.”

you and alhaitham are, no doubt, an unexpected match—if you can call yourselves that, even. it’s a complicated relationship you share, you and the former grand sage turned scribe. 

you patch him up late at night one day, and he so chivalrously accompanies you on your walk home after your shift. that’s all it was supposed to be…but, well, things are never as simple as sticking to the original plan. 

you invite him in for drinks, he accepts, you clumsily trip on your rug, he catches you swiftly, and somehow, in the mix, both of your lips end up meeting in the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with someone. clothes are easy enough to shed, and stumbling to your bedroom is hardly complicated, and in a far from ideal turn of events, you sleep with the akademiya��s scribe. 

multiple times, in fact. 

by now, his visits to the bimarstan to see you are as frequent as your visits to his house to see him. the only difference is that his visits tend to be for medical reasons, and yours are…personal to say the least. it’s, of course, as these arrangements tend to go, one that’s strictly physical. 

being physically involved with a patient is scandalous enough, but romantic involvement would be nothing short of unethical. and he’s not a very romantically inclined individual anyway, so not toeing the line of something more is easy enough for the both of you. 

still, you’re quite fond of him—he’s funny when he wants to be and a gentleman underneath the blunt responses and straightforward remarks. you like to consider him as a good friend. one who knows your body a bit too well than most friends should, but a good friend nonetheless. 

you look at him unimpressed as you finish tending to his wound, scoffing and rolling your eyes as you point out, “you’d call it a graze even if your arm was dangling off the bone.”

that gets a chuckle out of him, his head tilting up as he looks at you. if you weren’t in a hospital with your work attire, this would feel oddly domestic: cleaning tenderly at his wounds as he looks at you softly. 

you and alhaitham never toe the line of something more, but you do take steps dangerously close sometimes. 

“when do you finish your shift?” he asks, voice a low rumble. 

“now,” you grin, giving him a mock glare as you add, “you have me working past the clock.”

“let me walk you home, then.” he’d do it anyway, regardless of whether or not you accept. still, you never turn him away. 

“how kind of you,” you say sarcastically—you know better than he does what he means, what he wants, and you can’t exactly say you don’t want it yourself. 

“i can be rather giving when i want,” he shrugs. 

“oh, yes,” you snort, “quite the giver.” the grin he sends you is nothing short of fond. 

the line blurs a little like it’s been drawn in the sand, grains carried away by the wind and leaving the faintest trace of the border you draw. somehow, even though you shouldn’t, you step closer to it, just at the edge. 

but it’s never enough to cross it. 

“am i?” he muses, “i’m glad you think so.”

“you know, most people would believe you talk too little. but i think you talk too much.”

his cloak falls back in place over his arm as he stands, lips curled in a rare smile—well, rare to anyone other than you, that is. he walks out, and you follow.

it almost feels like you're getting closer and closer to stumbling past the line against your will every day. 

——————————

alhaitham knows your home well. well enough that he knows to drop his cloak in the basket you keep for laundry so you can wash away the blood soaked into the fabric for him. 

is it normal to do the laundry of your fuck buddy? you’re not even sure. it’s not like you’d ask anyone, anyway. 

but it doesn’t matter—not when his lips find yours before you can think about it too much. it’s a slow kiss. he’s good with his mouth in more ways than one—good at kissing, good at pleasing, and he’s even good at talking. he’s a linguist, anyway, so it only makes sense. 

“eager,” you murmur in between kisses, nipping at his lips as he shivers. “did you miss me that badly in the desert?”

“of course,” he rasps, gently guiding you to fall back against your bed, his hand cupping the back of your head like you’re fragile as glass, “eremites don’t have as enticing of a touch as you do.”

“maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll be less rough with you,” you wiggle your brows, giggling.

he clicks his teeth, angling your jaw to trail kisses along the slant of it as his hands travel to your hips, gently rubbing the bare skin of your hips under your shirt. you hum appreciatively, closing your eyes and sighing at the soothing feeling of his warm palms seeping heat into your skin. your fingers thread into his hair, tangling into the locks for some sort of means to hold on and ground yourself. 

it’s like warm drizzles of syrup, his touch sinking into you as you absorb his sweetness. 

“and why would i need that when this is far better?”

every word alhaitham alhaitham says is punctuated with the warmth of his lips pressed into your skin. it’s almost soothing—he feels calming. it doesn’t feel heated, not the passionate kind that kindles something carnal in you. 

it feels warm, the soft and gentle kind that makes everything feel a bit lighter. a bit cozier. something more homely in this house of yours. 

“mhm,” you hum, your fingers slowly slipping from his hair as they fall to his shoulders, barely holding him in place as your eyes remain shut. it’s soothing, everything about him. enough that you don’t even realize you’re dozing off until he chuckles. 

“did i bore you into sleep?” he pecks your cheek. 

“no,” you tug your eyelids apart, giving him a sheepish grin, “sorry, you’re just warm.”

“oh yeah?” he grins, amused. he’s climbing off of you, much to your dismay, making a soft whine run past your lips as your hands chase him. 

he’s quick to replace the lack of him, though, planting himself beside you as he pulls you into his chest. 

cuddling isn’t new for the two of you. usually, it’s a post-coital activity, though—you start to think alhaitham is just as bad at drawing a clear line in the sand as you. he’s gentle as he pulls your covers over you, pressing one more kiss to your head before he sighs and relaxes. 

“i’m not tired,” you protest weakly. 

“no, you’re not,” he agrees to satisfy you, eyeing your drooping eyes knowingly. “i am, though. it’s been a long trip.”

“right,” you nod, humming. “weak.”

he rolls his eyes, though fondly—you barely make out the action through your half lidded eyes as you glance at him one last look before your eyes force themselves shut. he’s warm, smells like that spicy hint of harra fruit in his cologne, and feels painfully safe when he lets you curl into his strong arm as it wraps around you. 

normal people don’t cuddle when they’re just fucking like this—you and alhaitham are anything but normal. it’s a mutual sort of agreement, though. you allow the small domestic tendencies to slip past the line, only to let the shore wash it away from the sand. 

it never stays for long, this feeling of intimacy. real intimacy, the kind that’s far more personal than seeing each other nude and feeling each other at your rawest. the kind where you both fall asleep beside each other, tangled, safe, warm, trusted. 

but you’re just friends. you think. you can’t afford to be anything more—alhaitham isn’t the sort of man to grant you something like that. you’re sure of that. he’s kind, good natured, even. but there’s not one romantically inclined bone in his body—you’ve seen it yourself. 

he’s rejected one too many brave women with her heart on her sleeve. never cruelly, but always definitively. 

sleep doesn’t let you think about it all for too long. you resign yourself to a peaceful slumber beside him, breath slowly evening out as he rubs the small of your back. 

and, when morning comes and you awaken, you don’t think about it for too long then, either. because he’s gone. because, of course, he wouldn’t stay—not when this is physical and nothing more.

you’re not disappointed, you think. you’re aware of the nature of things. and he’s a gentleman, as always, leaving you a note on your bedside. 

i had to file some reports from my expedition. i believe i’ll be needing my cloak back. 

you chuckle, shaking your head. it’s an invitation—bring me my cloak, and we’ll finish what we started. 

it’s how things are with you and alhaitham. you do his laundry with yours, he walks you home and forces you to rest, and sometimes, you happen to partake in some debauchery in the process. there’s nothing wrong with it. 

and even if your toes dance along the edge of the line, they always drag along to draw it sharper in the sand. 

——————————

coming to alhaitham’s house seems like second nature these days. he comes to you at night, and you come to him in the afternoon of your day off—luck would have it that yours happens to coincide with his. you knock three times and he opens as soon as your knuckles pull away from the cool surface of his door. it’s like he expects you, maybe even waits for you. 

you step in and let the door close behind you, grinning when he steps closer and cages you against the tight corner that is his front entrance. 

“i brought over your cloak,” you hold up the cloth, gesturing for him to move so you can put it on him. he looks at you incredulously, like you’re out of your mind. 

“why would i put it on now?” he asks in confusion. 

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow, “you always wear one?”

“and why would i dress when we’ll only be undressing in a short moment?” he quirks his own brow like it’s obvious—which, to be fair, alhaitham is not exactly wrong. but it doesn’t make you any less flustered when he says it. 

“you’re shameless,” you huff, looking away in embarrassment. he chuckles lowly, leaning down and trailing his nose along your collarbone, breathing in your perfume. 

“i think i’m more practical, is all,” he murmurs into your skin. you sigh, goosebumps traveling across your body at the fan of his breath against you. 

“if only people knew how unstiff the akademiya’s scribe can truly be,” you grin, finger tracing the sliver of skin showing from his chest window. “did you know i overheard a few patients discuss how bad you are at conversing?”

“i don’t get paid to partake in small talk,” he says, voice a low vibration as he shivers at your touch. “i have things to finish when i’m on the clock apart from socializing.”

“what, you’re that concerned when you have your lovely pay raise? i’m sure you could afford a few minutes,” you tease, making him roll his eyes. 

alhaitham certainly won’t admit it, but he finds a good amount of amusement from your quips—the small grin on his usually downturned lips tells you as much. 

“if you want me to spend my earnings on you, there are better ways to ask,” he shoots light-heartedly. 

“you’d accuse me of such shallow schemes?” you pout. “do you think me to be after your mora?”

his answer is instantaneous, coming in the form of a delicate kiss pressed to your lips as his hands grab your hips. your arms have a habit of their own, always wrapping around his neck before you can even comprehend the action, and just like always, you both end up a tangled pile of limbs that can’t even make it past the doorway, let alone the rest of the house. 

you like it this way, perhaps even love it. something about him being unable to wait the time it takes to walk to his room fills you up with a sense of glee. 

“being the scribe is a much simpler job than sage,” he mumbles between kisses, “there happens to be much more time for other things.”

“things like taking the head nurse against the door of your home?” 

“perhaps,” he smiles with a chuckle. 

who would’ve thought alhaitham could smile so painfully charming? just a few weeks ago, you had never seen him smile before at all, willing to bet that he’d never smiled a day after stepping into adulthood with that seriousness he holds so dearly. 

“i don’t have much time,” you hum in between kisses, fingers fiddling with the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

“we’ll make do, i’m sure,” he says through a breathy groan, already semi-hard as your thigh slots between his legs, rubbing against the forming tent in his pants. 

your head tilts up as his head buries into your neck, lips branding searing kisses into your skin. you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his, to be stamped with his affections one kiss at a time until no one else could hope to have you. your eyes flutter shut, sighing as he sucks attentively to your sweet spot. 

“don’t leave marks,” you scold, “i can’t show up to the bimarstan looking so scandalous.”

you’ve felt his lips against your skin enough times that you can tell them by heart. you don’t have to look to know they’re pouting against your neck—you can feel it against your skin. you giggle, cupping the back of his head as your fingers delicately thread through his hair. 

“i’m meant to hold back then?” he grumbles. it’s almost petulant, but he still softens the nipping against your skin, careful to leave no evidence of his existence against you, however disgruntled he might be. 

“don’t be so whiny,” you laugh. archons must have it out for you, though, because as soon as you say that, his hardened cock brushes against your crotch, making you whine at the friction. it’s something, but it’s hardly anything at all—the separation from the fabric makes everything not nearly enough. 

he seems to know it, too, because he pulls away, eyeing you with a certain gleam in his eyes that looks like a cross between smug and amused. 

“i’ll try,” he says smugly. you glare, but you’re cut off by the brush of his cock against that sensitive spot between your thighs once more, his hips grinding against you as you fall slack against the door. you can feel him rub against your clit, sending shockwaves along your spine as your back arches and you breathlessly moan his name. 

at first, he only does it to tease you, but after the first few rolls of his hips, it’s evident he can’t bring himself to stop. it’s not enough, not for either of you. the ache settling between your legs can’t be quelled with a few simple rolls of his hips with fabric separating you both from each other. but alhaitham’s sense of control seems to wash away with the tidal waves of pleasure, each thrust of his hips brushing his cock against your heat and leaving him panting into your shoulder. 

“m-more,” you plead, grabbing at his cape and fisting the material as you hold onto him tightly, “i need more—please.”

alhaitham, for all his composure and self-preservation, is simple to take apart when his throbbing cock is pressed against your cunt, rubbing against the length and building the pressure he so desperately needs. 

he doesn’t even seem to hear you, hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck as he buries his head and groans, hips sloppy and rough as they rut into you. you can feel the outline of his cock clearly even through his pants and yours, hot and undoubtedly hard. the bulge in his pants brushes against your clit through yours—and even if it’s nowhere close to feeling him inside of you, you can feel yourself just about to break. 

“sorry,” he gasps, “sorry—c-can’t stop. i-i’m c-close. so close.”

the last part comes out like a plead. it’s like he’s begging you to free him of this torment, like he needs you to make him fall over the edge because he can’t bring himself there. you think that might be the case, so you wrap your fingers around his hair and tug. 

he moans—maybe if you were feeling teasing, you’d call it a whine and watch his cheeks flush as he scowls. but there’s no chance for that. not when you’re both so close, so achingly close that you can just make out the twitch of his cock in his pants. 

and then the doorknob twists. 

a series of muffled curses can be heard through the other side of the door, and you both pause—rigid, tense, stiffly alert as your eyes widen. his head perks up from its place in your neck, staring at the doorknob in equal parts rage and equal parts confusion, like he blames it for cutting you both short of a much-needed, much-wanted orgasm. 

“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” you hear a voice groan exasperatedly through the door, “again?”

you’re completely lost. who could be trying to enter alhaitham’s house at this hour? 

the only hope you have for answers is, of course, alhaitham—one look at the recognition and irritation on his face, and you can piece together that it’s certainly no stranger. alhaitham, if his cold glare could freeze anything where it stands, could potentially risk turning sumeru into the next snezhnaya. his eyes are hardened, and his jaw is clenched as he breathes out a heavy sigh through his nose. 

“and you’re kidding me,” he mutters bitterly. “now?” 

“hey! i know you’re home! open this door and stop pretending like you can’t hear me,” the voice demands, tapping on the door with more conviction than the last time. 

you furrow your eyebrows and look at him expectantly; an explanation demanded through the crinkles of your forehead as you look at him in confusion. he pulls away, jaw still tight as he adjusts himself in his pants, trying his best to hide the still painful erection he sports. 

“my roommate,” he says quietly. deadly. 

you almost feel bad for the poor soul that must be waiting on the other side of the door, unaware of the pure wrath he must be about to face judging by the look on alhaitham’s face. 

you hear the voice again, “ugh! you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? you—”

“calm down,” alhaitham calls, unimpressed and unamused as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. he seems to hold it for a moment like he’s fighting the tension in his body, before he slumps and lets out another sigh. this time, it’s much more defeated as he gives you an apologetic look when his eyes open. 

you both adjust your appearances, erasing any trace of debauchery before you step aside and let him approach the door. 

the swing of the door opening is a rather aggressive one, and alhaitham stands taller and straighter than you’ve ever seen him, like he’s trying to tower over the figure that enters the house. 

you recognize him immediately. 

“oh!” you gasp in awe, “you’re that architect! the one who designed the palace of alcazarzaray!”

both men look equally as haunted by your statement. alhaitham’s eye all but twitches as he takes in the breathless admiration in your voice—you’re no doubt praising kaveh’s work. as for the latter…well, he looks like he might just about launch himself into the blade of an eremite willingly the first chance he gets. 

“wh-who are you?” kaveh demands, “and what are you doing here?”

“she’s obviously a guest of mine,” alhaitham shoots coolly, tone as condescending as ever. “have you lost all manners? that’s no way to greet a guest.”

“what did you say to me? i want to hear nothing of the sort from you—god knows your temper isn’t one to speak on my manners.” 

kaveh turns to you, taking one better look at you, squinting as he thinks for a moment before realization flashes across his features. he seems to recognize you—though most people in sumeru do know you quite well. the nurses at the bimarstan are limited, these days. 

“ah! you’re the head nurse from the bimarstan! you looked at my wrist,” he recalls. 

you smile, nodding as you gesture at his hand and ask kindly, “is it better now? i do hope it’s not as sore anymore. did you apply heat as i suggested? and i hope you’re taking ample rest in between sketches—architects are very prone to sore wrists as is, you know.”

alhaitham rolls his eyes at your lecture, grumbling, “as if he would follow anyone’s advice. he’s far too stubborn.”

“i’ll have you know that i followed her advice quite closely,” kaveh says pointedly. he turns to you, voice much softer as he smiles and adds, “and my wrist is much better, thank you.”

“of course,” you nod. and then you pause, staring between the two unsurely as you falter and ask, “but…i wasn’t aware you two were friends. alhaitham tells me you’re his roommate—he’s never mentioned you before today, though.”

they both glare at each other through the corners of their eyes. something tells you maybe friends was a bit of an exaggerated term. alhaitham makes no moves to speak, crossing his arms and staring expectantly at kaveh—the blonde scoffs, shaking his head with a scowl. 

“friends…is a generous word. we’re roommates,” he nods in confirmation, “i’ve…ran into some trouble for the time being, so i’m staying here for a bit. won’t be much long, however. i need a space less…suffocating.”

“and how well is that plan faring for you?” alhaitham’s words seem to poke at kaveh, riling the blonde up further as you watch the scene before you awkwardly. 

“you—” but before kaveh can finish whatever retaliation was on the cusp of his tongue, he pauses. it’s like all at once, the situation hits him before he’s staring between the two of you, instead. “hang on a moment. how do the both of you know each other? i didn’t know alhaitham was acquainted enough with the head nurse for her to pay a visit.”

“well,” you start, trailing off as you cough lightly, tensing as the question throws you off guard. “umm…alhaitham visits the bimarstan sometimes after his trips to the desert. so…”

so what? how would that explain your visit to his home? it’s not as though you become friendly with all your patients and drop them a visit—in fact, alhaitham is the only one you’ve ever done that for. and of course, it’s not just a visit that you’re doing here. but kaveh doesn’t need to know that. 

that would be quite the scandal—getting so intimate with a regular patient. and apart from that, you and alhaitham aren’t exactly in an ideal situation. what would you tell kaveh? that you come over just to hook up? it’s not exactly a rare occurrence to have a beneficial relationship with someone like this, but still…admitting it like that is a bit too shameless for your liking. 

and then there’s a much more complicated, much less easy-to-tackle problem, too. you’re not even sure if you can confidently say you don’t have feelings for the scribe. that’s not something you were counting on, ever. saying you only partake in intimate activities with no strings attached might just hit you too hard in the gut, even if it’s not exactly a lie. but admitting the words out loud isn’t something you’re prepared to do. 

almost like he senses your turmoil, alhaitham steps in, bless his soul. he almost looks a bit conflicted, studying you carefully. you don’t have time to dwell on it, though, before he speaks. 

“so she came to check on a wound she patched up,” he finishes for you, quick and easy and confident enough in his words that it makes up for your nerves. he quicks a fleeting glance at you before raising an eyebrow to kaveh. “i left in a hurry and didn’t really let her properly tend to it last time. not that it’s your business, of course. i’m perfectly within my rights to bring guests over to my house.”

“be careful,” kaveh glowers, “anymore attitude, and you’ll risk showing your guests your true colors if you’re not cautious. you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on the same person who tends to your wounds, do you? that would be fatal.”

“you two are quite the duo,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “it seems alhaitham has finally met his match verbally. you truly don’t let him have the last say.”

alhaitham almost looks offended, looking at you in disbelief. “i am not outmatched by his—”

“if it’s not too much trouble,” kaveh laughs nervously, cutting alhaitham off with a sharp look, “could you keep this…uh arrangement of ours a secret? i don’t really want this getting around and such.”

“my lips are sealed,” you promise. kaveh perks up, relief sagging into his shoulders at that before he nods, giving you a friendly smile as he waves at you. 

“i’ll be off to finish a project, then. nice seeing you.”

as soon as he walks away and you’re certain the door to his room shuts, you let out a soft breath of relief. 

“that was close,” you whisper, “he could’ve figured it out.”

“right,” alhaitham says vaguely. he doesn’t say much else, arms still crossed as he stands there and looks at you—something about the way alhaitham stares at you is too uncomfortable for your liking. 

not because he looks at you weirdly or even inappropriately, but because it almost feels like he can pick apart every thought in your head just by his gaze alone. 

you shuffle on your feet before you give him a tight smile. 

“i should go—the patients are never-ending these days,” you chuckle nervously. 

“make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” he nods. 

you linger for a moment. you’re not sure why. it’s not as though you can expect him to give you a goodbye kiss—that would be preposterous. and far too wishful. 

so instead, you give him a small wave before turning towards the door—but he stops you before you can reach for the door handle, pulling you flush against him, your back to his chest. 

“will you come back tonight?” he whispers, voice low and husky as he presses his still-hard crotch against you. you shiver as he nips at your skin to get his point across. 

“what about kaveh?” you ask softly, biting your lip, unsure. the little voice in your head screams, who cares about kaveh?

“he’ll be dead asleep,” he snorts, “last night was the third all-nighter he pulled. there’s no chance he’ll make it past seven pm today.”

“you’re insatiable,” you tease, shaking your head as you snort. “do you know that?”

“i’ve never had a decline on your end,” he shoots back. 

“i have a shift later tonight,” you say apologetically, sighing as you think about the extra hours you’ll have to put in soon, “there aren’t enough people tonight without me.”

“you should really speak to someone about this funding cut,” he frowns, slumping against you, “it’s getting out of hand.” 

“no one listens.” your voice is so defeated, so uncharacteristically tired. you’re sure he notices it in a heartbeat—you notice it yourself. “but i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“sure,” is all he says. 

hesitantly, you pull away. his hands leave your hips reluctantly, too, like they’re most comfortable when they have you to house them. but neither of you say anything, simply nodding at each other as you look at him over your shoulder and exit through the door. 

the footsteps down his steps and away from his home are the heaviest ones you’ve taken all week. 

you decide you hate the sand. and that stupid line you both seem to have drawn.

——————————

it takes two failed attempts at fucking alhaitham to realize you’re not strictly only after the physical pleasure he brings. 

the first time, you weren’t even disappointed you didn’t get that far. it was only a disappointment that he was gone when you woke, and you realize it’s because the absence of him is why you’re even let down in the first place. the second time, you’re unhappy because you have to keep the nature of your relationship a secret—that’s a more complex problem. 

it’s secret because it has to be, because of how lewd it is by nature and how partially unprofessional it is. but you decide you also hate it to be a secret. no one knows that you see alhaitham bare and at his most vulnerable, and you can’t handle that anymore. especially when you watch a nurse flirt so poorly with him right before your eyes. 

“oh, it’s you, acting grand sage,” she giggles, “what can i do for you today?”

“i’ve actually returned to my previous position as scribe,” he corrects, entirely unaffected. 

“oh, is that so?” she gasps—you know it’s all for show. everyone is aware of his stepping down. “well, i, for one, think it’s a shame. you were so capable as a leader.”

alhaitham doesn’t like leading. for all he claims it’s because it’s too much trouble and far more work than he appreciates, you know that it’s also because the easiest way to never be swayed by power is to stay far away from it. he keeps himself grounded this way. he uses his smarts for only what’s necessary and only enough to quell his thirst for knowledge and never anything more. his principles are admirable.

and should the next grand sage also abuse such power like the last, he’ll step up from his humble position as scribe and fix the problem again—because that’s what he knows to do best. use his genius to solve issues as they arise, not control the situation entirely. 

of course, she wouldn’t know that. she doesn’t know anything about him. 

you fight back the roll of your eyes with the last shreds of self-preservation you have left. 

“the position wasn’t really for me,” he says plainly. “any idea where the head nurse might be? i have some business to discuss with her.”

it shouldn’t satisfy you as much as it does when she deflates at at his dismissal. but does—enough that you saunter up with a grin on your lips as you greet the two. 

“why hello. what business does the scribe have with little old me?” you hum. the nurse becomes background noise when your eyes meet his teal ones, staring at the small fleck of amber in his pupils while his piercing gaze rakes over your face as if to study you. 

you feel oddly seen under his stare—he’s seen you stripped and bare, at your most vulnerable under him. but somehow, you’ve never thought about it much in the moment like now. right now, he sees you with a clear mind, without the clouding haze of lust to fog his mind. right now, he can see you for every flaw and every imperfection, so up close. he can notice the way your fingers fiddle with themselves to calm your nerves. he can catch every nervous shuffle on your heels as you fight the urge to lean into him from the proximity. 

finally, you break out of your trance when the nurse clears her throat and mumbles, “i’ll uh..i’ll be off, then.”

he blinks at the same time as you, shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to the present as he clears his throat.

“can we speak somewhere more private?” he asks quietly. you don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. but you nod nonetheless, leading him to an empty room as he follows. 

it’s a long, painstakingly dreadful walk. your mind is filled with too many possible scenarios that it’s a miracle your brain is even functioning properly. it should short circuit. what if he wants to end your arrangement? what if he’s aware of your slowly shifting feelings (if you can even call them that)? what if he’s found someone he’s interested in? what if his roommate has pieced together something, and now he needs to come up with a cover? 

the possibilities are endless, and they plague your mind so heavily that your lip is chewed raw by the time you enter the room and shut it behind him as he follows you in. 

“you wanted to talk?” you ask hesitantly. 

he doesn’t say anything—the only thing he does is press a folded piece of paper in your hands as you stare at him, confused. 

“open it,” he insists.

so you do. and reading over it makes you pause as you glance up at him in disbelief. the bimarstan funding—more than doubled. 

“what?” you breathe, in absolute awe, “how…how is this possible?”

“i’ve pulled a few strings,” he says plainly, shrugging. as always, he brushes off his actions as though he hasn’t just changed your entire job for the better. “it’s a nice perk of being an ex-sage.”

“you’ve used corruption just to help me?” your words are a playful jab—but there’s still an underlying question that you really do mean to ask. why go to such lengths for me? 

“it’s hardly corruption,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. the dust of red over the tips of his ears is the only thing that gives away the slightly flustered part of him, “i had a few favors owed to me, and the conditions here play an important role to everyone in sumeru. it was a simple correction to their terrible decision-making skills.”

“oh, haitham,” you chuckle. this time, the nickname really does make him flush more obviously, his eyes darting away to look off to the side as he clears his throat again. 

“well, that’s all,” he says stiffly, “i have to go home and…and make dinner. kaveh is of no help.”

“sure,” you beam, looking at him knowingly. you pause for a moment, contemplating before you cave and add, “and thank you. really.”

“it’s really nothing to look into,” he says awkwardly, “hopefully, now you can work fewer hours.” 

“the other nurses will also really appreciate it,” you say softly, “i’ll be sure to let them know—they’ll really have the hots for you this time,” you snort, making an indirect reference to earlier. he shivers, like the thought leaves him unnerved. 

“that one nurse of yours hasn’t left me alone since i stepped up as grand sage for that short while,” he grumbles, making you snort at the troubled look on his face. it shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does to see him so disgusted by the affections of someone else, but you’re only human. “doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”

“oh c’mon, she’s sweet,” you tease. now that you know he’s uninterested, it’s fun to mess with him and get under his skin, giggling as you reach over and poke at his arm. 

“perhaps,” he shrugs, “but not very good at keeping her emotions in check. i’ve known her since my student days—i don’t think i could last one day with her lack of…composure.”

“what, you’re too above emotions?” you ask amused, “i would disagree. you’re a rather grumpy man, you know.”

“am i?” he fights back a grin, “i hardly noticed.”

“without your morning coffee, yes,” you quip. 

he laughs, shaking his head as he stares at you with something that looks oddly close to fondness in his eyes before he murmurs, “i do really need to make dinner. kaveh will truly whine my ear off if i don’t tonight.”

“have fun,” you pinch his cheek. he rolls his eyes, and with that, he nods to you and leaves, swiftly walking away and leaving you to yourself in the empty room with the slip of paper in your hands, a lovesick smile still on your face. 

you don’t even know where the line starts or where it ends anymore. all you know is that you’ve undoubtedly crossed it all on your own—and it might be the end of you, truly.

——————————

it takes one nice gesture from alhaitham to make you realize you’ve fallen hopelessly hard for him. before, every small action of intimacy was always just the two of you being friends, amicable and good-natured in between sex. 

now, you’re not sure you could spend a single minute next to him without wondering what it would feel like to do those things as a couple. 

sometimes, after sex, alhaitham likes to read. because it’s hard for him to sleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb you from your much-needed rest after a long day at the hospital. you don’t realize how reliant you’ve become on the sound of his pages flipping until you lay in bed alone, tossing and turning under your sheets as you try your hardest to sleep.

you can’t. not when all you think about is him. him, him, him. he’s all your mind drifts to nowadays. 

but you know alhaitham—better than a lot of people, in fact, seeing as you get to see parts of him that are otherwise… off-limits. being in a relationship is the last thing he wants, especially with you. otherwise, he’d have told you by now. you’re scared of a lot of things, scared to speak your mind, and tend to overthink too much for your own good. 

but alhaitham? he’s blunt and to the point. if he’d wanted something more with you, if the line had blurred and blurred for him until it risked being nonexistent like it did for you, he’d have said something. but he hasn’t—and neither can you. 

because you know as soon as you do, it’ll be over. the kind gestures, the gentle touches, the heated kisses, the nightly visits, all of it. gone with the wind as it blows the line in the sand away for good—not because he wants to cross it, but because it simply doesn’t need to exist anymore if he never speaks to you again. 

 alhaitham is not a romantically inclined guy. he’s good-looking enough that not just a handful of girls have tried their hand at confessing to him, and he’s always turned them down instantly. you’ve seen it, heard about it, know it to be true. and apart from that, are you both even that compatible?

sure, you get along great as is, but a relationship is much deeper than that. you’ve always appreciated how honest he was, how straightforward he put things. but relationships come with a lot more vulnerability and emotions than you’ve ever shown him. his bluntness will be too easy to mistake for casual cruelty when you’re in over your head. he’s quiet; he doesn’t appreciate too much interaction—would he even enjoy going on dates? what if you insisted on an evening out, and all he wanted to do was stay in and read? would he want to do all that stuff? everything you want seems like it would be something of a chore for him, something that makes him see you as a chore. 

he even said it himself the other day, calling that nurse too emotional for his liking. sure, it was an off-handed comment, but you’re one emotional day away from potentially being too much for him too. you couldn’t handle that. not when you like him so, so much. not when you want him so bad, you couldn’t handle him not wanting you just as badly. 

would he even want you that badly? logic tells you no—and logic is at the forefront of his mind at all times. your emotionally charged outlook on life would be a bleeding mess of color in his neutral, logically categorized approach. 

you’d be dooming yourself to loving a man who would hardly know what to do with your affections. 

so you do the only sound solution to this predicament of yours—you end things before he can do it himself. it’s inevitable, of course. whether it’s in a few weeks or months, eventually, alhaitham will grow bored of your casual fling. and he’ll end things, completely fine and normal while you fall apart at the seams. the best thing you can do for yourself is let things end on your own terms, and early on, too, before the feelings fester into something all too serious. 

it’s not as though you love him yet—things are still early on enough to make sense of them. 

or is it? some part of your mind asks viciously, are you sure you don’t love him? 

you push away the thought as quickly as it pops into your head. rolling your shoulders back, you straighten your posture, taking a deep breath before you knock on his door. 

he opens it instantly, smiling that small, ghost of a smile of his. you falter immediately. 

“hey,” he hums, swinging his door wider, “come in.”

“no, that’s okay,” you say stiffly, not meeting his eyes, “i…can’t today.”

“oh.” you hate that you can hear the frown in his voice and practically see the confused crinkle of his eyebrows. “did you want to talk about something, then?”

yes, you want to say. there’s a lot i want to talk about. 

there’s a lot you should talk about—and if you were keen on discussing this like an adult, you would lay it all out on the table. 

instead, you blurt out, “i think we should stop.”

he eyes you carefully, raising a questioning brow as he asks, “stop what?”

“this,” you point between the two of you, “whatever…whatever this is we’re doing.”

and just as you expected, his face is blank, so neutral and so hard to read you want to scream at him. yell at him for making you want him so bad when you can’t even tell if he’s even a fraction as crazy as you. does he want you? he certainly treats you well sometimes, but maybe that’s just because you get his dick wet and stitch up a few wounds here and there for him. does he actually even toss and turn and stay up thinking about you the way you think about him? 

the answer is probably no. you don’t even want to find out if you’re right or not. but he’s never made you believe he has, so you don’t entirely think you’re wrong in your assumptions. 

“and what are we doing?” he must be playing dumb, you think. 

“hooking up,” you hiss, “having sex. fucking. whatever you want to call it, alhaitham. we have to end it. now.”

“and what brought this on?” he crosses his arms. 

you want to ask him why he’s being so cruel, so intent on keeping you when you clearly can’t stay, when there are so many women who would throw themselves at him for a chance to get in bed with him if a physical partner is what he’s so hellbent on keeping. but you can’t be that for him any longer, not when your emotions are tired of being a jumbled mess that slowly but surely eat away at your decaying soul. 

“we…we’re just…it’s not—we just have to, okay? i don’t appreciate you treating me like i’m easy.”

“wha—when have i ever treated you as such?” he looks at you bewildered, getting defensive. 

“that’s not what i meant,” you pinch your nose, groaning as you try to process the words you want to say in your spinning head. everything is too much—the way he’s close, the way your body feels aflame from just standing near him, the way your eyes are involuntarily misting over. “this…this is just an easy arrangement, that’s all. for both of us. but i don’t want to be someone’s quick and easy hook-up for the sake of convenience. i need…i need something more from someone, so we should stop while we can so i can find myself that.”

there’s a minimal twitch of his jaw as he clenches and unclenches it, nodding slowly.

“you want something more, is that it?”

“w-well, yes—but that’s not what i entirely meant, so don’t read into it—”

“so how would ending this get you that, then?” he challenges. you hate that he makes you feel stupid, that he looks at you like you’re not thinking when that’s all you’ve been doing these last few…archons know how long. he’s plagued your mind for so much time you can’t even pinpoint for how long. 

“i want something more, but not from you,” you spit, slamming your hands to slap against your thighs in frustration, “that’s obviously why i’m ending it! must you always make everything difficult?”

he doesn’t speak, silently stunned a bit at your outburst. so you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down before you collect your thoughts better. 

“i just…i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to yell at you like this is your fault. i…i can’t say i can get into bed with you anymore without wanting us to actually mean something to each other, and i know that’s not what you want—”

“who said that’s not what i want?” he interrupts, looking at you with the first hints of emotions all day. there’s a small etch of frustration building in the twitch of his brows as he continues, “you’ve just decided for me how i feel, and that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

“you’ve never said anything about how you feel,” you shoot back.

“well, neither have you, but that doesn’t mean—”

“i may not have said it, but you’re telling me you never noticed? i do your laundry for you, for crying out loud, alhaitham! and you’ve never so much as dropped a hint!”

“i see,” he nods slowly, going back to the blank slate that is his face. still so infuriatingly neutral and unbothered by it all that you can’t help but lose it a little. 

how can he be so unbothered? how can he be so calm and collected when you feel like you might need to check yourself into the bimarstan yourself from the stress of it all? you’ve spent weeks, months in each other’s beds. familiarized yourselves with every part of each other’s bodies. he knows about that birthmark no one else sees, and you trace that mole on his left pec every night before you sleep. you’ve slowly but surely been dying to cross the threshold of just friends (with a few perks, of course), and here he is, nodding along as you tell him you want him, want more of him.

and he’s got nothing to say. because, for some reason, after months of feeling you, spending nights and days tucked away against you, he doesn’t seem to feel the same, so he doesn’t have much to offer you. how can he be so unbothered by your presence after months with you? is it really that easy not to be affected by you? 

some part of you lets go of the hold on your control as you snap, “and this is why we can’t have anything more.”

“why’s that?” he tilts his head, voice an uncharacteristic edge to it, “enlighten me.”

“because…because…because you’re you!”

finally, a flash of hurt crosses his face, making itself home in his eyes and forehead as it crinkles at your words. he studies you, quiet. unnervingly quiet that you almost wonder if you’re just deaf.

“are you trying to say there’s something wrong with me?” he presses, looking so lost that you almost feel guilty. 

not as much as you feel like you’re about to cry, though.

“yes,” you say without thinking—and the way hurt settles into his eyes more makes you scramble to reword things so you don’t sound like a total jerk, “i mean no! i mean…i mean you’re just you, and you and i won’t mix.”

“we won’t mix,” he repeats, blinking. “interesting—”

you can’t stop yourself from going on the tangent now that you’ve begun, spilling your every thought one by one as you cut him off, “you’re so quiet, and it’s unnerving, you know? you never speak a single thought on your mind, you’d rather just read than talk about your day. and everything you say is so painfully to the point—would it kill you to soften the blow sometimes? people don’t always need the cold, hard truth, okay? sometimes, saying what someone wants to hear can make all the difference. and…and…i don’t know, okay? i need someone who can work with my emotions without applying logic to everything, and that’s not you so…so we have to end things because it’s not fair to either of us. i want it to actually mean something with someone when i’m with them, and you don’t want someone to taint everything with their fragile feelings, so we need to go our separate ways. okay?”

you’re practically panting when you’re done speaking, and alhaitham is just standing, thinking, processing everything you’ve said in that painfully complex head of his. 

finally, he breaks the silence and says, “i didn’t know so many things about me bothered you.”

“they didn’t,” you sigh, “not until recently. i guess…i guess it just hit me how difficult it would be to get along in a proper relationship.”

“you know that because what? you think it?”

“i know it because i’m actually looking at things realistically,” you say exasperatedly, “just because we had sex for a few months doesn’t automatically mean we’re a compatible pair.”

“we haven’t really gotten to know much outside of sex to decide that,” he shakes his head, “i’m not understanding how you can so easily dismiss these feelings by deciding it won’t work—”

“look, alhaitham,” you cut him off, voice so uncharacteristically small, he pauses to look at you in shock, “i’ve been slowly losing it for weeks, okay? the last thing i need is for you to make things difficult for me. you’re a good guy, and i really, really wish things were different, but i just need more than what you can give me without completely changing yourself. neither of us should have to compromise anything about ourselves for things to work.”

“you don’t know if i’d be willing to give you what you need or not,” he says quietly, “maybe i wouldn’t be changing a thing.”

“then what about that girl?” you scoff, “the one you said was too emotional for you to handle? you think i’m just being crazy? you said it yourself, so what else should i believe?”

“her? she’s different—”

“why? because she’s not me? because she doesn’t let you in her bed? you’ll find my emotions just as burdensome as hers one day, and then what? we fall back on sex to keep the spark alive?”

something about him is defeated. shoulders slumped, eyes dim, and arms uncrossing to lay limply at his sides. he takes a deep breath before nodding, looking at you so intensely you almost feel frozen in place. 

“okay,” he whispers, “if this is what you want. that’s fine.”

his door closes, and your first tear slips. 

——————————

nine days. that’s how long it’s been without alhaitham. your mind tells you this is for the best, but your heart is practically on its knees, begging you to reconsider. 

a part of you wonders if you were being unfair like he said, judging him before you could properly give him a chance. the other part of you thinks it’s important not to let attachment cloud your better judgment. alhaitham is a good man; there’s no doubt about it. 

but is he a man good for you? that part is a difficult question to answer. protecting your heart seems like the safest option. still, you can’t help but miss him horrifically often. it doesn’t hit you how badly you’ve fallen for him until you don’t see him anymore. no more late nights at your place, no more afternoons at his, and no more routine bimarstan visits. 

your life has at least gotten a bit easier, though—more funding means more people to hire, and more people to hire means fewer grueling hours for you. though, when you really think about it, you owe this small win to the exact man who’s been plaguing your thoughts. 

you intend to drink your woes away, but it seems even in the tavern, you can’t escape him—well, not exactly him, but his roommate. but kaveh still reminds you of alhaitham, so the cleared head you hoped for is out of the question for the night.

the thing about kaveh, though, is that he’s loud. painfully so, and especially when he’s drunk. you could hear him from the other end of teyvat, you think—it’s hard to ignore him even if you want to. 

“he’s been insufferable lately,” kaveh huffs, “worse than usual. that awful temper of his needs to really get a check because i’m not sure how much more i can take.”

you didn’t know kaveh was friends with the general mahamatra—seeing cyno loosened up with a deck of tcg cards was not on your list of expectations for the night, but you can’t help but listen in when he adds, “his last few reports to me from his investigations were not up to his…usual work ethic, either. i’m not sure what’s up with him.”

“maybe he’s overworked,” tighnari suggests—you know him as a fellow amurta scholar, recognizing him from your student days. you hadn’t realized alhaitham was friends with such an interesting assortment of people—well, you don’t know if kaveh fits as a friend, but the other two seem like safe bets. 

“i don’t think so,” kaveh grumbles, “he’s hardly been sleeping. it’s not like he takes work home with him, you think he’d be the type? but he’s been drinking all the coffee—i actually work into the night. shouldn’t he at least leave some for me?”

“i wonder what’s up with him,” cyno hums thoughtfully, “he must really be brewing in his emotions.”

you snort at the poor pun, watching as the other two around him wince and groan. 

finally, kaveh sighs, rubbing his temple as he mumbles, “i don’t know. i’ve never seen him like this. i think it’s serious.”

that makes guilt pool in your gut, making you feel so full that even one sip of your drink feels like too much. you’ve lost all desire to drink your sorrows away—you couldn’t have possibly dampened someone like alhaitham so deeply, could you? he’s always been unaffected by things more than others, and you’d never imagined him to care that deeply about your relationship. if you could call it that, even. 

“what do you suppose has brought this on then?” tighnari’s ears twitch in worry, “he’s…not exactly the most emotionally available.”

well, at least you’re not alone in your beliefs. 

“i don’t know,” kaveh says quietly—and even if they claim not to be friends, you don’t think they hate each other a fraction as much as they let on because his voice seems to be twinged with clear worry himself as he adds, “his eyes have been red in the mornings. it can’t be something small.”

that’s all you can stomach to hear before you slam your glass down and swiftly make a beeline for the tavern’s exit. some part of you, weak and bound to alhaitham, is unable to listen any longer about his misery. the misery you caused. the misery you brought yourselves both because insecurities ebbed and flowed into the deepest crevices of your mind and rotted away at the reasonable parts. 

of course, you’re different. of course, there’s a chance things will go sour. of course, it won’t be easy. but isn’t that the case for every relationship? love was never meant to be a simple feat—otherwise, it would never be half as scary to take the fall. 

but you’ve been careful, too careful. so careful that you forgot to let yourself try and be happy, and so careful that you’ve stomped on someone’s feelings enough that his friends exchange their worries over drinks instead of having a good time with him. 

so you decide that enough is enough. if alhaitham isn’t meant to be yours, then celestia themselves will have to take him from you—because you’re not risking losing him a second time. 

not again.

——————————

contrary to popular belief, alhaitham has never been difficult to track down if you simply know where to look. he might be good at making himself scarce, but there’s only a handful of places he could be. the light of his home shining through the window tells you that your first guess is not very off.

you knock, silently staring at the tips of your shoes as he slowly opens the door.

“hey,” you murmur as soon as the door swings open. you haven’t even looked up yet, but you’re certain he has the same neutral expression on his face. but kaveh is right about one thing—his eyes are definitely a little red.

“hey,” he says quietly. 

it’s awkward for a moment. you don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t have any intentions to fill the silence. some time ago, that worried you. his quietness came across as an inability to keep up healthy communication. but now, you miss it—the quiet flip of his pages as he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. the way he let out a soft little breath when you lay on his chest, rubbing his palm slowly in circles against the small of your back. the soft, peaceful silence of his presence. 

you never appreciated it enough, the comfort of knowing you’re valued without having to say anything at all. 

“listen, i—”

“you don’t have to—”

you both stop, pausing when you speak at the same time. 

“go ahead,” you say instantly. 

he clears his throat, shaking his head as he swallows. “no,” he mumbles, ever the gentleman, “no, that’s okay. you go first.”

you think your nerves might just explode one by one if you have to wait any longer, so you don’t bother putting up much more of a fight, nodding before fiddling with your fingers as you take a deep breath. 

the words spill faster than you can process what you’re saying. a long, jumbled string of thoughts that rattle off your tongue like a dam finally breaking at the leaking crack. 

“i was wrong. for all the things i said, i mean. there’s nothing wrong with you, you know? you’re really kind, and you remember the little things, and you always keep your promises, and those are really nice things. and i don’t hate when you’re quiet, by the way. i used to think it bothered me, but i miss it, you know? just having you sit next to me and read and stuff. i guess…i guess i just never bothered trying to think about how to love you the way you needed because i was so busy worrying if you could love me the way i needed and…and i just fucked a lot of things up. i got in my head and made a lot of assumptions that weren’t fair and just…i got cold feet. and i’m sorry. and i love you—really, really love you. all of you. you don’t have to believe me or even say anything at all. i just needed you to know all that because you deserve to.”

he’s silent. you can’t tell whether from being stunned or from disinterest. both are fair, regardless—you think alhaitham could slam the door shut in your face, and you’d deserve it. but he doesn’t. because just as always, he’s your same, kind, gentle alhaitham underneath all of the blunt stoicism. 

“i lied,” you whisper, “i do want you to say something. anything.”

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he stares at his feet, still looking as hurt as the day you left him. “you…you just assumed i wouldn’t be able to love you, is what i’m gathering.”

“i just thought…” you swallow thickly, tongue like sandpaper against your dry mouth, “i just thought we were too different.”

“i thought we got along well,” he shrugs, trying to pretend there isn’t as much hurt on his features as there is, “maybe i misread things.”

“no,” you shake your head desperately, “no, i overthought them, that’s all.”

“why did you leave me?” he asks hoarsely, “why couldn’t we have talked about things?”

you want to say because you were a coward, maybe even a hypocrite. you insisted he’d be too constipated emotionally to communicate properly with you, but all you’ve done was decide things for him and avoid the hard, heart-to-heart talk.

really, it’s because you were never brave enough to try and love alhaitham the way he would have loved you. the way he loves you. you were blind to see it—weren’t even willing to believe that he ever would. not until after you let him go and realized what you had. he’d walked you home, made sure you got proper rest, pulled strings, and used up favors just to make things better for you. and you missed all the signs, all because it was so easy to walk away, to label his blunt nature as causal cruelty, to confuse his quietness as disinterest, to assume his logic was the absence of emotion. you never gave him a chance because you were never brave enough to take the fall. 

but alhaitham was always ready to catch you, arms aching to wrap around your form and hold you. not because he wanted you to love him, but because all he’s ever wanted was to love you. 

you think that’s the difference between the two of you. you’ve always wanted to be loved, and he’s always wanted to love. you’ve always wanted to take and he’s always wanted to give. you’ve always wanted him to be enough, and he’s always wanted you to know you’re enough and more. 

it’s too much to tell him though, so you settle on cupping his cheeks and whispering, “because you scare me. the way you make me feel.”

“how do i make you feel?”

not too long ago, you’d think he was asking just to confirm what he already knows. now, you know he’s asking because he needs to hear the words for his own sake. just to be sure. just to ease the uncertainty in his own head. 

“you make me feel a lot of things, haitham,” you murmur, “you make me feel happy. appreciated. very pretty. capable. important. sometimes a little dumb,” you giggle as he frowns, squeezing his cheeks as you add, “but only because you’re so smart. i could list a few other things you make me feel, but…they’re not as proper.”

“i thought…just…d-did i do something?” he asks, voice hesitant. there’s a painful, awful squeeze in your heart at his words. but your heart is the last of your worries right now—it’s the least you can do, putting your feelings aside for his own, seeing as you’ve stomped all over his.

so, in an effort to show him that everything is okay, you smile—you’re sure it’s a pathetic, wobbly little thing, but you don’t have time to care. not when he’s right here, under your fingertips, and one possible moment away from slipping away. 

a watery chuckle escapes you as you whisper, “no. you didn’t do anything—it was me. but i’m not running away anymore…if you still want me, that is.” 

“you’re all i want,” he says instantly. “the only thing.”

“i know,” you breathe, “and you are all i want too.”

you kiss him. because he deserves to feel you choose him, to feel you close the gap and show him you’re here. your lips press gently against his, molding into them like two pieces of a puzzle—except you don’t think neither of you fit anywhere else but each other. incomplete without each other and unable to fit anywhere else. your thumb traces the soft, warm skin of his cheek, soothingly caressing it as if to let him know i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. 

he stumbles back, and you follow him in, pressing against the door of his home just like those days ago before an unwelcomed interruption. this time, though, you think kaveh could freeze outside all you care—you’re not letting anything interrupt this moment. 

“i’ve been losing my mind for weeks too,” he mumbles in between gasps for air as you kiss, “just so you know. it wasn’t you alone.”

“that’s good to know,” you hum, grinning against his mouth. 

“and i thought i was giving signs,” he adds, “that’s why i went through the trouble to fix your schedule. so i could spend more time with you—i…i apologize if i wasn’t obvious with my intentions.”

“don’t be,” you say softly, “i’m the one who missed them. you did everything right.”

“did i?” he asks, unsure. 

you press your lips firmly against his when you hear the crack in his voice, as if sheer touch alone will express the way you feel. maybe it does, though—because he melts against you, letting out a soft moan as your hands travel to his broad chest, feeling the muscled and toned body he hardly hides under that skin-tight shirt. 

“i get scared easily,” you whisper, “will you be patient with me?”

“i’m not good at expressing my emotions,” he whispers back, “will you be patient with me too?”

“we can be patient together,” you hum, pecking his lips a few times as he chuckles softly. 

“good plan,” he nods, “sounds like it should work.”

“oh, thank you,” you wink playfully, pulling away to wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his as you look at him cheekily, “i’m a bit of a genius.”

“that you are,” he nods, smiling in amusement. and he means it. you’re every bit smart and capable as he makes you feel—inadequacy was never something alhaitham made you feel; it was always something you brought onto yourself. you’re used to shifting the blame, you realize. it’s so easy to blame everything and everyone but yourself for the intrusive thoughts in your head. 

but they melt away tonight, one feathered kiss at a time, pressed to your jaw delicately by warm, familiar lips you’d know blind. 

“your friends are worried about you, you know. kaveh—”

“please do not mention kaveh’s name right now,” he groans, “i’ll hear all about your alarming story of my friends at the tavern, but right now, i only want to hear you say one name.”

“yours?” you wiggle your brows. 

“glad to know we’re on the same page,” he confirms, humming as your hands trail under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his built muscles. 

“i don’t want anymore casual sex,” you murmur, pouting, “it’s driving me mad.”

“okay,” he nods, shivering as your palms glide over his nipples as you pull his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abdomen for you to admire, “will girlfriend suffice?”

“girlfriend would be great,” you nod, beaming. 

“just so you’re aware, i am very concerned with the emotions of my girlfriend, however heavy they might be. i do still think, however, that nurse was on a…unique realm of her own, though,” he adds the last part with a pointed look.

“don’t mention other women when you just asked me to be your girlfriend,” you huff, “don’t forget who stitches you up. don’t get on my bad side.”

“my apologies,” he laughs. 

and then you’re back to kissing him, fervently and so desperately, you think this might be your last day on earth, making the most of it before you’ve breathed your last breath. alhaitham groans into your mouth, lets your hands wander all over him as you feel the tautness of his physique. 

it’s not the first time you’ve felt him, but it is the first time you can take all the time you want, memorizing him because he’s yours to keep locked away in your memory. 

“i love you,” you pant against his mouth, wet, hot kisses interrupting your sweet confession. 

“i,” he kisses your cheek, “love,” a kiss to your other cheek, “you,” a kiss to your nose, “too.”

this time, he leans down and kisses you right over your pulse point, right where your racing heart rate is beating erratically. you gasp when he bites and sucks at the flesh, making you whimper as your knees buckle. 

“how much?” you ask, pleading to know.

“enough to lose sleep,” he murmurs, “because my dreams were plagued with you. i couldn’t escape you in waking hours or in slumber. that’s how much you torment me. take over my body and mind. is that what you needed to hear?”

he’s a linguist—sometimes you forget that. perhaps he’s not so bad at saying what you need to hear, after all.

“maybe,” you hum, kissing his cheek, nibbling affectionately at the soft flesh, “you like me that much? how cute.”

“i’ll like you a lot more if you stop teasing,” he grunts, pressing his hot, searing erection against your thigh as your thumbs toy away at his nipples. you gasp when you feel him prod at you, feeling the heat even through the fabric that separates you. 

neither of you are patient enough to do this properly right now—but you have plenty of time for that. plenty of time to take it slow, explore each other, and map your bodies in ways you never dared to before. scared to cross that stupid, useless imaginary line you drew for no reason at all. you decide from here on out there are no more lines—just endless sand, your footprints next to his as you trek the path of lovers. 

you rub at his hardened cock through his pants, making him grunt before he grabs your hands and pins them over your head. 

“i said love you,” he says intensely, eyeing you with a carnal hunger you’ve never seen in him before, “but i didn’t say i’d be patient tonight.”

with that, his free hand tugs down both of your pants—his just enough to free his aching cock, and yours enough to expose your leaking cunt as he teases your clit with the blunt tip of his length. you whimper, bucking your hips into him, feeling the beads of precum spread along your heat as he shudders. 

“put it in,” you whine, clutching his shirt with tight fists. 

“you’re…not ready yet,” he insists, teeth grit as he gives his all to hold himself back from taking you just like you plead. 

but you’re stubborn—and alhaitham? he’s too weak to you to fight you when you are, doomed to give into any and every whim of yours.

“don’t care,” you shake your head, “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. i just want you—please, please, please haitham.”

that’s all it takes for him to crack—slowly, so, so carefully, he nudges past your wet folds, inching his throbbing cock into you as you gasp at the stretch. this isn’t the first time he’s split you open—but it’s never something you get used to. the burning stretch still feels as new as the first time. he groans, low and breathless, as your walls clamp down on him as he slowly but surely intrudes into your cunt. 

“so tight,” he murmurs, voice filled with wonder—like this is the first time he’s ever felt you so raw. maybe it is. he’s never felt you as his, as yours. “does that feel good? do you feel me? what you do to me? and you thought i didn’t feel the same? like i didn’t purposely let blades slice my skin just for an excuse to come find you? feel your touch, watch you worry? just for a moment of your attention? surely, you can’t be so blind.”

his words make your head spin, making you throw it back as a soft escapes you when the last bit of his length slips in, filling you full and to the brim as he nudges at the most sensitive spots inside of you. he’s so deep; you think your lungs are filled with him, like every breath you take is filled with him, him, him. 

“yes,” you say through a shaky voice, “yes—so good, you feel so good. i want you, haitham. all of you.”

“you have all of me,” he kisses the words into your neck, “that’s not enough? you want more?”

“yes,” you plead, “more!”

he chuckles, smooth and low and so pretty, you feel an ache in your clit from the sound alone. “well, alright then. more it is—i could never dream of denying such a sweet wish.”

finally, he rolls his hips, all but pulling out completely before pressing back into you, dragging along every ridge of you, nudging his thick tip against the spongey, sensitive at the back of your walls. you’re slack against his door, held up by him and him alone as your body betrays you, unable to keep balance as he fucks into you the way he does. 

it’s been nine days without you. the way his hips snap so desperately into you, you’d think he’s a man thirsty, gone a year without rain in the deepest, more treacherous ruins in the desert. all you can do is cling to him, repeat the same mantra of haitham, haitham, haitham—more, please haitham.

he knows your body well. so, so well, he knows exactly how to toy with your clit, thumb finding the sensitive nub, enough pressure to make you whine with a jolt, but not enough to let you fall over the edge just yet—not until he allows it.

“i love you,” he punctuates with a roll of his hips, “repeat that. so i know you believe it. so i know you believe me.”

“p-please,” you gasp, tugging at his hair, “i…i need to c-cum—”

“say it,” he demands. 

“you love me—oh,” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath, his thumb abusing your clit in faster circles. 

“again,” he says firmly.

“you love me,” you whimper, “you…you love me. only me.”

“good,” he nods, groaning as you squeeze around him at the praise, “and don’t forget it. not for a second.”

“l-love you too,” you stutter, voice cracking as he rolls his hips unforgivingly, the friction making your mind fog with pure lust. “love you so, so much.”

that makes him inhale sharply, breath catching in his throat. his head falls to your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin as he moans lowly, hips sloppy and ungraceful in their pace but never failing in precision to angle right into your sweet spot. his thumb rolls circles into your clit, fast and desperate to send you over the edge so he can follow. 

and you do—you fall off the edge so fast, so hard, your nails dig blunt, raw crescent moons into his skin as you arch your back off the door and cry his name. luckily for alhaitham, his house is built conveniently enough that he has no close neighbors. no one to hear such filthy sounds right against the door for them to witness just by passing by. no one should be at this hour—but even if they were, you hardly could bring yourself to care. 

“c-cumming,” you wail, “cumming, haitham.”

“so beautiful,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, voice strained as he chases his own orgasm, “can’t…can’t believe you’re mine. mine.”

it’s like the realization that you’re his is what pushes him past the edge, his cock twitching with hot, thick ropes of cum into your abused cunt and painting the walls white as soon as he repeats the word mine. 

mine, mine, mine—he doesn’t stop repeating it even as he fucks himself into you and works himself through his high. you can feel the wet, messy trail of his cum and your slick leaking down your thighs, so filthy, so lewd, so devastatingly raw. 

“yours,” you confirm tiredly, kissing his head as he pants into your neck, muffled moans pressed against your skin as you soothe him while he falls apart against you. “all yours. not going anywhere, i promise. i promise.”

finally, he slumps against you, panting as he tries to catch his breath, sweaty and tired but never unsatisfied. 

“if you leave me again,” he quietly admits, “i think i’ll go mad.”

“then i won’t,” you say gently, stroking his sweaty locks. 

“i love you,” he reminds you once more, “do you believe me?”

“i do,” you nod, smiling like he’s handed you the sun, “and i love you too. do you believe me?”

“i do,” he hums, wrapping himself around you tighter. 

there’s a jiggle of the doorknob behind you, followed by an incoherent, slurred string of curses. alhaitham deflates against you, looking up at you tiredly. you throw your head back and laugh, gleeful, and so, so in love. 

“i’m tired of him,” he grumbles.

“let him off easy this once,” you brush back his hair, “it’s thanks to him that i came to see you tonight.”

“then i suppose just this once, i won’t leave him out to freeze,” he relents. 

you realize for a moment, alhaitham had never drawn the line in the first place. perhaps it was always just you, making rules in your head when all he ever did was want you from the start. he waited so patiently for you, so you cup his cheeks and pull him closer, giving him one more firm kiss as a reward for all you put him through. he pulls away, dazed as he stares at you with unfocused eyes. 

“i’ll give you another like that if you run me a warm bath,” you say cheekily. 

“do i get to join this bath,” he raises a brow, eyeing you in amusement as his hands rub soothingly into your hips. 

you pretend to think for a moment, mockingly tapping your chin in deep thought before you murmur, “okay, fine. but no funny business.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it—”

“hello?” kaveh’s slurred call interrupts, followed by rough knocking. 

“he can freeze,” alhaitham says bitterly.

“don’t you dare!” you gasp, fighting back a laugh as he looks at you miserably.

well…….what was supposed to be maybe 4-5k words at best has…..gotten quite out of hand LOL. 14k words later i present to you my official love letter to alhaitham. anyway i suppose this fic stems from sometimes wondering if i would be compatible with the characters i enjoy. but the question is not whether or not you’re compatible, but whether or not you’re willing to put in the work to make compatibility. and alhaitham would certainly do that. anyway!!! i hope you enjoyed. i’m not sure if many peiple will read this, but if you do, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! giving you all a hug and reminding you that your favs would 100% want you <3

[timetravelingsherlockian]

Firstly, Despair? Just fuck off. Despair just fucking fuck off and stick your hook in someone else.

Okay, she's gone?

Excellent.

Long post ahead.

Let's get one thing square, the world will be full of even more bullshit soon. You might not have it on your feed, but your friend will have it on theirs, and it just takes one friend to humanize computerized bullshit so you'll believe it.

Second, those of us who've paid attention know that some parts of academia could be well-automated for a while, now. Methods, Results, and Abstracts are particularly prone to (at least first-draft) template-like summary. I've known of people who've made R code that prints their results directly into their papers (which I acknowledge is fundamentally different in terms of flexibility and scale).

There are several different lenses with which to approach the mechanization of Science! (TM), and maybe one of these will work for you (long post ahead).

Tl;dr: Watch this vid. He's an artist who began his career in the last art-pocolypse, and his words seem honest, if difficult to swallow.

Humans Need Not Apply

There's no rule that says "More technology makes more better jobs for horses," and I see no logical reason that this would apply to people...as CGP Grey said in a video 8(!) years ago. His predictions mostly seem on-track.

At the end of the day, UBI + robust unions + trades jobs to tide us over will be required to stabilize an automated society such as our future's.

Call your lawmakers. Go into law or economics if you can.

Expect a couple of wars first.

2. An Antidote to Perfectionism

The internet has exposed the advantages for a fecundity of thought; you don't have to be good to get a following, you just have to say things regularly. This is not a particularly new revelation -- popular authors tend to have written many words; notable philosophers have had many students; great businessmen and inventors many employees. More may or may not be better, but "good enough" has plenty of reach.

One strategy may be to find where "good enough" has a higher "enough," or where "good enough" won't cut it.

Alt: Something else matters besides the final goal.

Friend of CGP Grey, Myke points out that humans will always be driven for the process. Like drawing a painting in the sand before it is blown or washed away.

AI exposes that human work cannot be merely done for its outcomes.

And, let's be honest: scientific enterprises have always been rickety. Outside an errant Bell Labs, science has been closed-off, under-reviewed, underutilized, underfunded, exploitative, and more often than you would expect unreplicable or just-plain fraudulent. There are very few checks and balances for these systemic problems. AI isn't going to make that better, but it's certainly not besmirching a virginal enterprise.

As @savrenim noted:

What will be left in science are the harder jobs: recruiting community buy-in and collaborations; interpreting and decimating results; and (unfortunately, don't worry) grant writing for ScienceGPT (because I've stopped believing that any more tech will do our dirty work since the invention of the washing machine).

Given the number of prestigious articles wasting away in paywalled journals, the outcomes weren't necessarily the primary point.

3. Don't Panic!

Or do panic; I don't care; welcome to the apocalypse; someone said to put that on the brochure. Humanity is going through an apocalypse. rest assured it's not our first. If it was any comfort, you were going to die anyway.

Remember that humans are incredibly bad at predicting stuff, so focusing on what does matter to you -- even if it's pointless and cringe and worthless (at the time) will serve you well in the long run. See if you can put those skills towards something they can't digitize; humans are lazy, so the more bother for them, the less likely they'll be coming for your economic area.

I have more Thoughts(TM), but perhaps for another time.

Maybe Science! (TM) wasn't that special.

Maybe most jobs already are bullshit.

But know that there's 8 billion of us; the robots can't catch us all.

Someone I respect and consider an intelligent, capable scholar has just told me that she uses chatGPT to write parts of grant proposals, and suggested that I do the same. This is like existentially horrifying.

Not only because chatGPT has gotten that good that fast, not only because it means most of the jobs I’m qualified for will be nonexistent or much diminished in a few years, but because this is saying the quiet part out loud. That the things we’ve been writing were always mostly bullshit and never really mattered. That grant proposals were always just about gabbling out the correct buzzwords, and so were conference abstracts and grad school applications. That this goes beyond academia. That both the public and the private sector is employing huge crowds of people to write meaningless text. That my inability to care about my work is not wholly a personal failure, that nobody cares, that nobody has cared for a long time, that people value their own work so little (or are forced to value their work so little, through impossible time pressure) that they would happily replace it with a passable okayish replica.

I’m not a great writer, and when I’m on here, writing inconsequentially, for my own enjoyment, I am often thoughtless. But writing is still my self. And I think anything that goes out into the world as written word has a value, it is important, and the writer is responsible for it. Of course I’m a nervous wreck who is paralysed by the thought of writing anything for publication, or even to be read by anyone else irl, and that’s not healthy either. But I can’t handle the idea of people not caring for their own writing at all. I am disgusted by the idea that we can just push a button to make soulless shit pseudotext, and it won’t even be that much of a change because we already had been making soulless shit pseudotext anyway, not caring, or not being allowed to care.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Some things to consider if you are donating hygiene products to shelters/food banks (if you have the means):

Unscented soap for sensitive skin. (Dove and Ivory are so good for this but I know there are store brands).

Unscented lotion! Lotion isn't a very highly donated product and, when it is, it tends to be very fragrant. This is a problem because fragrant lotions contain a lot of alcohol in them which in turn dries the skin out and is not very good for people with sensitive skin or skin issues and is definitely an issue for houseless people who are more exposed to the elements outside.

Body/deodorant wipes.

Deodorant sticks and sprays.

Regular chapstick. Burt's Bees contains beeswax and Carmex/Blistex are medicated, all can make chapped lips worse and you can actually develop an allergy to their ingredients.

Adult diapers. People donate baby diapers and they donate feminine hygiene products but donations of adult diapers are few and far between and shelters/food banks see a lot of traffic from new, healing mothers or older children with developmental disabilities or elderly members of our population.

First aid kits.

Activities for kids (cheap coloring books and some crayon packs, fidget toys, little puzzles). It may seem silly to some but I once got to tell a mom that I included some little age appropriate toys for her kiddos and I will think about her reaction and the hug she gave me for the rest of my life.

Blankets. Little fleecey throw blankets are so important and are, unfortunately, the difference between life and death during these colder months.

Underwear and socks. I have had people tell me that they don't want to donate underwear because they feel like it's creepy. It's not creepy. These are basic necessities and they are often times hardly donated and asking for help at all is hard but asking for more personal items like underwear can be downright embarrassing. Especially when it's not available. People are less likely to ask in the future when that happens (especially if treated or looked at judgmentally when they ask).

Hair products for different hair types. A lot of these organizations serve minority populations in our communities because the system has been set up to keep non-white people down and in poverty (anybody can experience poverty but, please remember that systemic racism plays a huge role in why these services are desperately needed and horribly underfunded). Hair products like shampoo and conditioner are donated but it's 99.9% of the time going to be very cheap products that aren't good for any hair type but definitely are not good for people with coarse hair or curly/kinky hair. If you have the means, please consider donating some products specifically formulated for Black hair. I am not somebody who needs those products so I don't have much knowledge into the brands that are actually good. So I do encourage anybody who can help with a list of products they'd recommend to reblog this and add those items on.

And if all of that is just too overwhelming of a list but you would like to do something, call around to some local schools and ask if they have some lunch debt you can pay off for some babies. If you want to go further, ask if you can put some money on the books for some of the kids so that they can have a hot meal because, unfortunately, school lunches are often times the only time some of these babies have a hot meal. And having to do that at all is a failure of our society and government that desperately needs to be fixed but if we can help ease the burden of struggling parents on the road to that goal, then I think we should do that because it really does take a village but the extreme individualism mindset of this country has left so many people behind.

[enbycrip]

Stuff I am finding difficult about the nurse’s strike:

There is a huge outpouring of stuff about “our NHS” and “our nurses” which is both brilliant, and unfortunately also currently being used to really beat and dogpile with abuse anyone who speaks up about shitty treatment, including medical disableism, they’ve received from nurses and other NHS staff.

Medical disableism is *incredibly* prevalent and leads to serious issues for a huge number of (I’d say likely most) disabled people. This partially reflects the disableism rife in the UK public - nurses and other healthcare workers are not immune to the barrage of right wing political messaging - and partially some serious structural issues in medical education.

I 100% support the nurse’s strike - because they are workers, and people, who deserve decent pay and conditions in their working life. It is a very difficult job, not only due to the emotional labour required in a caring role, but because they are dealing with an enormous amount of politically-motivated chaos as the Tories systematically underfund the NHS in an attempt to destroy it. I 100% support and approve their action to fight that bullshit and improve their situation.

However; this does not make nurses either “angels” or above reproach. It makes them humans suffering difficult conditions who deserve support to better those conditions - like other workers facing capitalist bullshit and exploitation.

It does not change that nurses, like other healthcare workers, and other carers, are in a power relationship with their patients which puts them in a position uniquely capable of abusing those patients. Particularly when those patients are already physically and/or emotionally vulnerable due to illness and/or injury, and/or they belong to already marginalised groups such as BIPOC, queer folk, and/or disabled folk.

It takes a lot of care and awareness not to abuse those power relations, and plenty of nurses, other healthcare workers, and other carers, don’t. They often perpetuate the systemic abuses marginalised people face, and sometimes they abuse vulnerable people on an individual basis too.

All these facts exist *together*. *All* of these things are true.

I’ve seen a *lot* of people raising abuses and disableism they’ve suffer be hit with “what, you want us to be the US?” This is such a fallacy in so many ways - notably 1) the issue of medical disableism is systemic, and fucking *hell* it exists in the US 2) disabled people tend to live in poverty and thus are in an even worse position in the US.

But most of all, it’s a fallacy because *exposing abuses within and criticising a system does not mean wanting to destroy it*. It’s about *wanting to improve it*.

It’s an example of the same issue that constantly arises with climate change protestors being screamed at if they ever use a car. It is entirely possible, indeed, essential to live within a system and yet *desperately* attempt to improve it.

I’m asking everyone who sees this to:

1) support the nurse’s strike, because it’s *essential* to support a large group of low-paid workers fighting to improve their working conditions

2) speak about the fact that it is possible to do this *and* want to improve how nurses treat patients, especially marginalised ones

3) actively go in to support any marginalised folks you see being dogpiled and abused for speaking up about medical disableism and medical and caregiver abuse.

Part of how systemic disableism operates on a social level is to treat anyone caring for disabled folks as “angels”, above reproach. Whether they’re paid to do so or not.

What this perpetuates is

1) disabled people being conditioned to accept any abuse they receive. The message is “be grateful you’re not just being left for dead”. Which is ridiculous. Disabled people are people. We deserve decent lives free from abuse like every other person.

2) people in those professions being conditioned to accept low pay and shitty working conditions. Because they’re “vocations” you do because “you’re an angel” who doesn’t think about money. Which is also ridiculous. Workers in every profession deserve decent pay and conditions for the work they do, and carers, systemically, don’t. Carers, systemically, are abused - they work long hours, for crap pay, and often in shitty conditions.

As a disabled person, I *want* carers to be paid and treated well. Because I’m a decent human being who wants other humans to live decent lives, AND because I think carers who are paid and treated well do their jobs of caring for vulnerable and marginalised people better.

Also: FFS, if you have any ability to do so, put pressure on Labour to actively support the strikes or change their bloody name.

[arcticdementor]

So funny story, I made kind of a cheap comment recently poking fun at how the mainstream left vilifies the non-vaccinated white population but makes excuses for the disproportionately greater non-vaccinated black population, and in response to /u/AxiomVergeThrowaway asking what the disparity actually was, I found out that it isn't nearly as disproportionate as I had thought. According to one source it looks like 50% of whites are vaccinated and 40% of blacks are vaccinated in America. The CDC itself estimates 29% of blacks fully vaccinated and 37% of non-hispanic whites. Candidly I expected it to be more like 60% / 30% or worse. I think the amount of hand-wringing over "vaccine equity" led me to believe the disparity was much bigger than it is.

I actually had a similar experience with voter turnout figures a while back. Based on all of the fretting that I've heard over the years about racial voter suppression, I had believed that blacks vote at substantially lower rates than whites... but that really isn't true (at least in presidential elections) -- the rates are very close and in 2012 there was actually higher turnout of black voters than white voters. I think I looked it up a while ago when I was writing up my User Viewpoint perspective at /u/Doglatine's suggestion (super cool institution btw, is that still going?) while trying to articulate a point about generally low voter turnout compared with America's prior century.

Check out this article from Washington Post from 2018: "The turnout gap between whites and racial minorities is larger than you think — and hard to change". Despite a bunch of framing about Jim Crow and similar anti-black policies of the past, it is actually comparing whites against "non-whites." And despite framing the turnout gap in the context of the then-upcoming 2020 presidential election, it emphasizes data from midterm elections. And even there, what its data actually show is that there is actually just a 5 percentage point gap in white/black turnout during midterm elections, and contrary to the headline it has narrowed substantially over the past several decades. In fact all of the headline's dramatic claims are really only true because of relatively lower Asian and Hispanic turnout, which feels a little like a bait and switch -- particularly given the ways in which Asians are disproportionately privileged compared to other racial minorities and even in some ways compared to whites, and in which they are counted as "racial minorities" only when convenient, being conspicuously ignored in mainstream left discussions of affirmative action for example.

One last example. Everyone knows that schools are generally funded by the local tax base, which leads to blacks and hispanics, tending unfortunately to be located in lower income school districts, to be victims of chronically underfunded schools. I knew that for a long time. I have listened to several wealthy white friends agonize over that fact as they shame-facedly sent their wealthy white children to wealthy white schools. But it's totally false. "Blacker and poorer schools receive more per-pupil funding than whiter and richer schools. Sosina and Weathers 2019: 'On average, both Black and Latinx total per pupil expenditures exceed White total per pupil expenditures by $229.53 and $126.15, respectively.'" Maybe this example is a bit of an odd duck since it concerns allocations of resources rather than performance directly, but nonetheless: another bit of false conventional wisdom slandering the achievements of blacks (political achievements in this case).

I don't want to overstate the point; there are definitely categories where the black-white achievement gap is really big.

But there are at least a few axes on which it feels like the black/white gap has been needlessly catastrophized, on which belief in black underperformance has been basically manufactured, which kind of made me racist in the old school sense of believing false negative stereotypes about a population.

So what's up with that?

Under an ideology that rewards victimhood and oppression with status, perhaps exaggerating the black/white gap could be conceived of as trying to elevate black people, center them in the discourse, basically an altruistic action.

If the Democratic Party is motivated by causes, then perhaps that creates demand for problems.

Modern mainstream Western ideology treats racism as uniquely evil, the opposition to which binds together minority groups into an intersectional alliance, overcoming the different goals among the different factions of that alliance. Perhaps exaggerating the race gap helps to build up the specter of racism and thus hold the coalition together.

But it does feel kind of surprising and dismaying that basically I feel like I've been tricked into believing that blacks are worse off than they actually are, in at least a few respects... and maybe more that I'm not yet aware of. I don't think anyone set out with the intent to foment racism in propagating these exaggerations and falsehoods, but it seems to me like that is a result, and a predictable result at that.

[go-events]

GO Rom Com Spotlight: @fremulon

The delightful @fremulon​ (also curtaincall on AO3) has claimed When Harry Met Sally to adapt for Good Omens in the Good Omens Rom Com Event.

For reference, here’s a little background about the source material!

About When Harry Met Sally: In 1977, college graduates Harry Burns (Billy Crystal) and Sally Albright (Meg Ryan) share a contentious car ride from Chicago to New York, during which they argue about whether men and women can ever truly be strictly platonic friends. Ten years later, Harry and Sally meet again at a bookstore, and in the company of their respective best friends, Jess (Bruno Kirby) and Marie (Carrie Fisher), attempt to stay friends without sex becoming an issue between them.

We spent some time chatting about how the adaptation is coming so far, as well as future plans for it! Now, get to know @fremulon​ a little better!

* * *

goromcom: So I know everyone must be getting sick of my little quirk of pointing these out by now, but when I open a chat with you, Tumblr tells me that you post “about #b99 and #parks and rec." Big Mike Schur fan?

fremulon: Oh, yes, I am a big Mike Schur fan--my url, Fremulon, is actually the name of his production company! I think his shows tend to strike a really nice balance between being funny and making you care about the characters/plot, and that's something I'm always trying to do in my own writing, as well.

goromcom: I’m a big fan too! B99 is such a relaxing change from the usual tone of police/crime shows, and of course I was just bawling for a week over the series finale of The Good Place.

But on to your rom com!

You chose to adapt When Harry Met Sally. Has this movie been a favorite of yours, or is there some other reason you chose it?

fremulon: It's definitely one of my favorites! I also have a personal connection to the movie, since my parents watched it on their first date. And I thought that the themes and characters would be a good choice to adapt for Good Omens--I've seen a few people around the Internet point out the similarities between the stories.

goromcom: You know, I didn’t see it before, but now that I’ve thought about it, I can see the parallels there! Very interesting.

What's your favorite moment of When Harry Met Sally, and are you looking forward to presenting it in your adaptation? Any loose plans for that scene that you can share?

fremulon: HA. Okay, well, I'm not sure if it's my favorite moment but it's for sure one of the most memorable--I'll keep it PG and just say "the deli scene." And I had to think through how I was going to work that, since it plays very differently between two men (or, male-shaped beings) than between a man and a woman. So the conversation's going to be a bit different but the, well, the climax, if you will, of the scene is going to stay very similar. After all, Aziraphale does make interesting noises while he eats...

goromcom: "Climax.” I’m dying. Ahem, moving on. Do you plan to stick very closely to the story beats of the original story, or make bigger changes?

fremulon: Well, the good thing, or maybe the tricky thing, is that it's not a very plot-heavy story--there's much more conversation than action. Which luckily happens to fit in pretty well with my writing style! So the main arc of the story, such as it is, will be very similar, but some of the side plots are going to have to change.

goromcom: It sounds like a great fit, then! Lean into the meat of the story but then get to do a little plotting work with the B/C storylines. Lovely.

What's an interesting decision you've made in your planning so far--a notable casting decision, a changing of venue, or some other plan you have to paint Good Omens all over your rom com?

fremulon: I've decided to keep Aziraphale and Crowley an angel and a demon, instead of making them human. So the central question that they have to contend with is going to change from "men and women can't be friends" to "an angel and a demon can't be friends." The original movie is unfortunately pretty gender-essentialist so I'm also excited to bid that a strongly worded farewell.

goromcom: Yeah, I agree, it’s a much more interesting central plot idea without gender stereotyping entering into it. There are plenty of meatier differences that people have to overcome to be friends or romantically entangled than just the genders we identify as, right? I’m looking forward to this take.

But I don’t want you to give too much away, so I’ll move on to the last question. It’s stolen from The Good Place: The Podcast, so you may have heard this one there as a Mike Schur fan. Tell me something "good". It can be something big or small. It can be a charity you think is doing good work, or you can talk about how great your pet is.

fremulon: I was just at the library yesterday, so I'm going to say LIBRARIES are good! I am so, so glad to be able to access books legally for free (and since I do most of my reading on my Kindle, I don't even have to leave the house to download ebooks). And libraries provide lots of other really important services, too; Internet access and printing, for example, or youth programs. Support your local libraries, friends!

goromcom: Always a worthy cause, libraries--an important resource for the community that is historically underfunded and in the crosshairs of some of our smaller minded politicians.

Stay tuned for the debut of the GO adaptation of When Harry Met Sally, coming soon!

[robertsbarbie-archive]

Education is free minus college and if your a good student then scholarships give a free ride. Stop being lazy and giving out excuses

*you’re

dude i- i cannot stress enough how absolutely wrong you are. yes technically education is free but there are many circumstances that go into being able to be successful while in the public education system (which is pretty shit by the way, there’s literally dozens of articles about it and how underfunded it is but aight). for one thing nowadays a lot of schooling relies on having electronics that many can’t afford like computers and printers and such so for submitting essays and printing off worksheets or getting help, those who can’t afford a computer or printer or anything like that are then knocked down a peg in being able to be their best because their best is now unfortunately below everyone else who can afford these things. and yes, some schools do provide desktops and printers but many don’t and some students will be penalized for having to print off in class because they don’t have a choice. also, public libraries are becoming a scarcity so there goes another option for how to successfully complete their work. then there’s the factors of even if one could stay after, come before, or go to a library many people’s parents at that age can’t do it because they’re working tiring jobs to provide what little they can and so they don’t have time for those couple of minutes to just print or type a paper. speaking of jobs many teens in low income households miss a lot of school to either help support the family with a job of their own or to care for any younger children if the need arises leaving no time to do school work or be in school therefore once again putting a hefty disadvantage. not to mention on top of that not being able to eat substantial amounts of food causing a lack of focus and energy in a lot of poorer households so :/ the free system alone comes with lots of disadvantages for poor students that causes them to struggle to succeed.

oh you do make a point about scholarships only not really.... colleges tend to offer more sports and talent scholarships than academic ones and even those are scare. sports and activities cost a lot of money to do, and take up a lot of time while also expecting the excellence of above but with twice the disadvantages because of it. also so very few people are that talented in a niche area to catch the eye of recruiters and scholarships and odds are if they are that talented it came from years of private training, elite sports programs, and making the area their whole life. poor people don’t have that luxury unless they are insanely talented. as for the academic side,,,, sis,,,, do you know how much it costs to take the ACT and SAT??? i assume not otherwise you’d know that people who get scholarships take it at least twice usually and have spent money on prep courses and prep books to get that score. not to mention private tutors which cost a lot like. grades don’t just happen. throw in the factor of being poor and struggling with a mental illness (studies have shown those in the lower income bracket tend to have higher levels of stress and are more susceptible to depression and anxiety!) and those things are one of the hardest to achieve. people who are poor do get scholarships but it’s so insanely hard and every single odd is stacked against them! like! it’s not as easy as being a good student. oh! and also a lot of scholarships don’t cover things like textbooks, room and board, laptops, and other school supplies you NEED in college. like, dude i’m sorry that you think the few success stories that people fought tooth and nail for mean you can be a classist piece of shit but the hard truth is poor people more often than not take YEARS to accomplish what rich people do in a few months. so yeah.

[yoolee]

If Lee wrote otome #8 | Interstellar Shoestring Budget

PREMISE:

Top Secret and yet also chronically underfunded, understaffed, misunderstood government office focused on extraterrestrial affairs - primarily, keeping their presence a secret, helping stranded extraterrestrials integrate into Earth society, processing planned visits, occasionally preventing mass invasions - with a basically nonexistent budget, since the people making the decision on where to allocate money can’t know the truth. This means cobbling together disguises with the help of a local community theatre department or high school art program, macguyvering weapons together from duct tape, staplers and tech that’s 20 years out of date, and relying on an unpaid (extraterrestrial) intern to handle social media updates and PR.  3D prints most of their supplies. TAKES PLACE IN LAS VEGAS probably. Where else would you hide the fantastical?

Potentially fatal extraterrestrial parasite found? Let’s hope roach killer spray works on it. I think there’s some under the break room kitchen sink.

Large scale invasion by the Truorans imminent? We avoided the last one with Tweeter - do they have Tweeter? Do we know anyone who can communicate in Truoran? No - let’s try emojis then, I guess.

Newly stranded alien has blue scales and six eyes? Welcome to Earth - here’s a mepipe contouring video and some concealer, good luck.

Zero mind-control memory wipe devices - unless they can convince an alien with those abilities to do it, they pretty much have to rely on chicanery, natural skeptical instincts, and bribery (as a last resort, because, budget).

(side note - super tempted to say it’s old enough to have been ‘Ye Olde Extraterrestrial-Earth Transfer Support’ but over time the ‘olde’ and ‘support’ got dropped so now it’s just YEET)

HEROINE

Bad at delegating - takes on too much too often (usually because she’s so used to not having budget to hire more people to do it). Somewhat high-strung. Prone to trying every new ‘this will change your life’ trend out there but never makes it more than a month or two before falling back on bad habits. Excellent cook, often of very, very weird combinations in hopes of landing on the right mix for some of her clients (even though many of them find the practice of coming together as a group to independently ingest energy sources bizarre). Staunch believer in trying for peace first - just because we can’t communicate doesn’t mean we don’t have common ground, and just because something is unexplained or unfamiliar doesn’t mean it’s dangerous. Too tired to be scared of anything, which is good, because sometimes the existential questioning of her reality and the world beyond it can be derailing. Went straight into the military after high school, which is how she ended up learning about extraterrestrial outreach. Still keeps a lot of service habits. Currently trying to wean off of caffeine (it’s not going well). Has no social life because she is always on call for work. Angry and hurting about the cruelty of the world--not just hers, but universally--but tries to ignore the anger in favor of doing small things to make it better.

Love Interests

Alien 1: Alien who integrated into Earth six-seven years ago when heroine was first being assigned to the department. Has some serious telepathic ability, which allows them to conveniently convince anyone looking at them that they’re seeing a regular, normal human being, instead of what they actually are (basically energy-based, rather than having a solid manifest form). Unfortunately, they also kind of uses it willynilly to ‘convince’ people of over things, because they don’t believe in subscribing to human ethical codes except when convenient, which makes them a teensy bit untrustworthy. Generally seems content (even happy) to be on Earth, making a significant effort to establish a long-term life. Occasionally acts as a consultant to the department since their ability makes them generally able to communicate with most species, so long as they produce rational thoughts on a similar level, but refuses to help for free, dealing instead in favors (doesn’t need money since they can just convince people to fork over twenty bucks or food for free or whatever they need). Super shady about their backstory. Does not deal in absolutes - their perception of reality is somewhat more multi-tiered and probability-based. Originally from a species with collective thought/memory - something they were shut out of shortly after arriving on Earth, without explanation. Semi-dealing with the trauma of that, and waffles between being elated with their independence, and feeling a profound sense of loss and severance. 

The Techie: “I have a computer science engineering degree from MIT and I took this lousy-paying government job because I thought I’d get to hack into alien spaceships but instead I’m basically the Help Desk for Earth-integrating aliens.” Eternally despairs over the incompatibility of Earth tech and extraterrestrial tech - though they’ve managed to make a few basic communication consoles work retroactively and never give up on writing some kind of code or program that will ‘click’. Teensy bit of a mad scientist when it comes to dismantling alien stuff to try and figure out how it works. Perennial smarta--. Knows how critical they are and milks it - basically constantly threatens to leave and go work for Fwoogle (particularly when called upon to do something like unjam the printer). Generally has to be bribed to participate, but more reliable than they pretend. Sociable nerd. Constantly dealing with parents who are disappointed because they expected them to be an Aluminum Valley billionaire by now. Builds apps that provide helpful tips for integrating aliens, and programs the 3D printer to print out disguise pieces.

Actually does quit to go work for Fwoogle or a startup in their own route to avoid coworker issue - except they get sucked back in to at least helping due to some major trouble.

The oh shoot we ended up in space for the final act route - and not only did we end up in space, but we are stranded on a ship that uses totally different tech than ours?

Alien 2: SUPER UNHAPPY about being stuck in this backwater solar system, with such a horrible, rude, unpleasant, backwards-thinking, awful-acting dominant species. May or may not be plotting to wipe them all off the face of the planet. Very volatile (in a literal sense - their surface tends to react explosively with Earth’s atmosphere), though they are trying hard to control it because that’s potentially fatal. From a very aggressive species that has a narrative of peace-through-conquest - but their last mission to do so, there was a catastrophic failure, and that’s the last Alien 2 knows. 

Private Industry/Casino Owner (Alien 3): From a shapeshifting species that is essentially adaptive - becoming more and more like their surroundings as time goes on, which means they have super easily integrated into Earth society. Unfortunately, they arrived on Earth back when the Mafia was running Vegas, so, those are the behaviors that are integrated first. Generous but violent. Persuasive, arrogant, has a strict moral code that is a mix of alien and Earthling. Genteel but vicious. Literal embodiment of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger due to adaptive abilities. Has amassed enough of a fortune through running a (super shady) Vegas casino that they have opened their own charity to support extraterrestrials on earth. Frequently tries to hire MC to run it (look at all the resources you could have) but she considers it a conflict of interest (she’s more afraid they will entice away Techie). Has every intention of making Earth an interstellar destination for extraterrestrial tourists - regardless of what Earth’s governments think of it.

Space Pirate (Alien 4): There has to be one, okay? Child of a union between a generally terrifying species and one that inadvertently created them in a last-ditch effort to halt the conquest of their planet, which did not make for a great childhood as they were somewhat disdained by one parent’s species and feared by just about everyone else. Because of this, they have a very strong dislike/distrust of organized groups (governments in particular) but (deep down) they still believe in individuals, as they’ve found several of their life who have become friends or family (or crew). Fiercely loyal to their own. Likes Earth because as an unintegrated planet, they can come and go without scrutiny (except for one measly office that sometimes harangues them). Operates in a very gray morality - stealing is okay, killing in self-defense (even proactively) is okay, doing what you have to survive is okay (though they try to be one to make that decision before their crew), but some things just aren’t. Values independence and freedom over all else. Does not get along with Alien 1 at all because of the collective-thought aspect.

Conspiracy Theory TV Producer: coming soon maybe idk

Supporting Cast:

Various clients:

Doesn’t experience time in a linear fashion which makes them super hard to keep track of.

Myth bases - various types of dragons, mermaids, selkies, etc

A neon-based organism that is colorless and a low-energy loner, and returning them to their home would require a massive amount of voltage, which when applied totally alters them.

A sodium-based organism to whom water is toxic, making it a massive time crunch to get them to a desert location

A mercury-based parasitic organism that has found it can ‘merge’ with humans as their skin absorbs it, giving them a mobile vessel that blends in, except ultimately their toxicity kills their host and they have to find another.

Starkillers! Check it out. Iron-based organisms born from the death of massive stars (creating iron takes more energy than is released by the fusion, so stars that make iron essentially cannibalize themselves) - they are subsequently feared by default by most species that recognize the power inherent to stars. They consume other entities in search of the greater energy they once had. Consuming carbon-oxygen based entities stabilizes them into steel-based organisms.

Various visitors who they haven’t figured out how best to communicate with but they’re trying!

Fire cat:  An alien lifeform that seems to be a physical, tangible manifestation of heat. It followed heroine home from work and refuses to leave. Since it likes to cuddle and has taken the shape of an Earth cat (...except for the fact it glows like a hot coal), heroine doesn’t really ask too many questions (Even though sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she swears she sees some massive, fiery shape). She’s still not sure what it eats but it seems content. It’s even started purring on occasion. It will absolutely scorch her fingers if she pets it when it’s not in the mood, though. She keeps telling it she’s a dog person and it keeps giving her a perfect Judgey Not-Actually-A-Cat stare.

Author Roomie: Former frustrated wild child who has (sort of) settled down - with a vengeance. Only leaves the house when they have to - which, given modern conveniences, means almost never - or when they finish a book, at which point they disappear for a few days and MC never knows where they go. They actually hired one of MC’s extraterrestrial clients to act as them for book signings and the like. Was raised by their ‘aunt’ *coughcough*my ode to Aunt Beast*coughcough* who was, in fact, an extraterrestrial, which is how they know about all this. Super helpful in coming up with cover stories. Incredibly laid back about life, incredibly NOT laid back about their book plots - tends to bite MC’s head off (figuratively) around deadline time or when stuck on a particularly tricky chapter. Thoughtful, in the sense that they think things through before answering, clever. Jealous that fire cat loves heroine but won’t sit in author’s lap unless it is SUPER cold outside.

Author’s Editor: Had an absolutely hysterical panic attack when they found out their number one author’s stand-in was not from the planet Earth. Still prone to being hysterical about it if they think about it too much. Chronically weeps over their trouble child client - who is a consistent top ten bestseller, but the definition of exhaustion to work with. Ebbs and flows with author’s mood - when author is laidback, editor is stressed, when author is stressed, editor is the picture of serenity and encouragement. Totally ends up dating ET stand-in even if they have hiccups.

Author’s Aunt:  The sort of being who imparts strength on/in others simply through steadfast grace. Just a profoundly loving presence. Healer in a very literal sense, she can help most species to be well and healthy, but there is not a good way to articulate how. Very, very old and has been on Earth a very, very long time - even before the government started a program to integrate aliens, she was acting as a kind of welcomer/healer/mentor/surrogate family to stranded aliens - and the occasional hurting, angry, frustrated human child, as was the case with Author. Often beats the government to the scenes of crashes. Home is always open to anyone who finds their way there. Heroine sees her appearance differently than the author does - when asked about it, neither can really explain why or how, since AA does not perceive the world visually.

Intern: Snarky college kid who acts like an absolute slacker but it’s all a smokescreen for a pathological need to exceed expectations - they actually work super hard behind the scenes. Primary duties include yelling PHOTOSHOP on forums where people post pictures of extraterrestrials. Always seems to have energy. Acts like they are super grouchy about having to adhere to the overly rigorous NDA but is actually extremely zealous about making the world better and safer for all of its residents.  

[businessweekme]

Ageing and Automation

The global labour market has endured a series of disruptions in recent decades – from rapid globalisation, to deep business-cycle troughs to battles for gender equality. Today, workforces globally are justifiably anxious once more due to the Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR) – a merging of the physical and the digital that hints at widespread future redundancies – as well as rapid societal ageing. Shrewd policy initiatives will be required to address the twin threats of ageing and automation, and to mitigate the associated fallouts. Job displacement at the hands of technology accompanied with increasing societal ageing could increase un- and under-employment, widen inequality, and exacerbate talent shortages for firms.

Increased life expectancies and decreasing birth rates around the world have dramatically quickened the global phenomenon of societal ageing. The global birth rate has flattened rapidly over the past five decades and will, according to data from the United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs, decrease steadily until the end of the century. Meanwhile, upward mobility and increased access to quality healthcare has increased life expectancies around the world – the UN World Population Prospects projects that between 2015 and 2100, the average global life expectancy at birth will increase by more than ten years.

For many countries, these combined demographic phenomena mean that young-person populations are shrinking in favour of older-person populations. The UN has projected that by 2050, more than a third of the entire world’s population will be above the age of 50 – even though back in 1950, this age group made up just 15.7 percent of the world’s population. Many economists have expressed concerns over these trends, citing the potential for slowed productivity, labour shortages, and for pension systems being placed under pressure as pension recipients grow while working contributors dry up.

However, societal ageing in much of the developed world has also given rise to an additional phenomenon: the rise of the older worker. OECD data shows that older workers’ average retirement ages are steadily increasing, as more and more workers in the developed world delay exiting the workforce to make use of their good health and collect additional funds for retirement. On average around the OECD, older workers (aged 50-64) are increasingly making up larger and larger shares of their countries’ labour forces. The ability of these older workers to retain their jobs and incomes will be crucial in the coming decades to ensure older workers afford retirement without falling into hardship.

The Fourth Industrial Revolution, now in full swing, is disrupting entire value chains and reshaping the very nature of work. Governments and companies, looking to do more with less, are turning to emerging technologies to usher in new efficiencies. Today, public and private entities are still nursing their wounds from a decade-long global downturn, and are enticed by the promises of digital transformation.

Unfortunately, digital transformations threaten the jobs and livelihoods of large swathes of workers – especially older ones skilled in the work of yesterday. Many nations’ older workers will find themselves at risk of being excluded from the economies of tomorrow: indeed, in much of the developed world, older workers tend to widely do work that is at serious risk of automation and displacement. History additionally records long-term unemployment and age discrimination for such employees in OECD nations, and shows that they are prone to particularly harsh fallouts from displacement by new technologies.

Mercer and Oliver Wyman’s report, The Twin Threats of Ageing and Automation, focuses on 15 major markets and derives the risk older workers face of displacement by workplace automation in each. The report finds that countries that are ageing the most rapidly also tend to have some of the most older workers at risk of automation – and that most of the highest-risk markets are found in the Asia Pacific region.

Industries in Gulf countries are facing widespread disruption at the hands of technology. Technological progress in many areas – GDP per capita, healthcare access, Internet penetration – has outpaced that of global peers, and governments across the region are eager to leverage the gains of technology to encourage enhanced growth. Saudi Arabia’s “Vision 2030”, for example, has broadly committed to investing in the digital economy with a focus on Artificial Intelligence; the UAE’s “Vision 2021” has similarly identified digital technology as a top primary national sector for investment and growth. At the very same time, GCC countries are ageing rapidly. By 2030 more than 23% of working age population across GCC countries will be above the age of 50 – a dramatic increase up from just 13% in 2015.

Inspired by our report, The Twin Threats of Ageing and Automation, and given the dramatic demographic and technological shifts taking place in the region, we decided to do a deep-dive into our home region and conduct new analysis on the ageing and automation threats faced by workforces in GCC countries.

Our results show that older workers situations are not optimistic. Based on our analysis, GCC workers over 50 are at risk of automation by more than 1.5 times the average level for OECD countries. At the same time, in the next 15 years the number of workers in the over-50 age group will grow by over 74% – a far more dramatic growth rate than that seen in many other countries around the world. With high risks of displacement and rapid rates of ageing, older workers in GCC countries will face far greater risks than their global counterparts in the coming decades. This will place pressure on pension funds and older persons’ abilities to fund their retirement, and could accelerate workers’ premature exits from GCC workforces – exacerbating talent shortages and skills gaps for firms that could have been overcome with better training and worker redeployment programmes.

These issues are being exacerbated by the fact that across the GCC, prime-aged populations (those aged 15-49) are shrinking compared with older-worker populations (aged 50-64). The UN’s Populations Division predicts that Saudi Arabia’s working-age population is likely to be 18.2% made up of workers aged 50 to 64 by 2030, and the risk of automation to these workers will sit at 63%*, almost 1.5 times the OECD average. The same data makes similar predictions for Kuwait’s workforce, which will be 19.1% made up of 50-to-64-year-old workers by 2030, facing an automation risk factor of 61%, almost identical to the KSA scenario.

As a result, the GCC faces ever-larger proportions of older workers at risk of automation – and therefore who are also at risk of eventually falling into underfunded and difficult retirement.

In a departure from the global trend of older workers being the most at risk within their respective countries, younger workers in GCC nations actually face slightly higher rates of automation risk than older workers. Twenty-five to 49-year-olds in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia are also widely employed in automatable work and will face a risk score of 63.7%. In Kuwait, younger workers have an average risk of automation score of 61.9%. The break from the global trend for younger Saudi and Kuwaiti workers repeats across the Gulf. This trend further sounds alarm to the GCC that besides older workers over 50, automation will also greatly impact younger workers in GCC countries, posing a far-reaching threat to all working age populations in this region.

Such high risks of automation to the entire working population will become a pivotal concern for GCC governments, which will exacerbate as pensions and welfare benefits multiply, year after year. GCC nations are traditionally generous when it comes to government support for those out of work. Unemployment benefits in Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Bahrain, cover up to 60% of the last monthly salary for as long as 12 months, while pensions in those countries can be up to 65% of last salary, commensurate with contribution periods. To maintain such levels of financial aid, GCC governments must address the employability of their ageing workforces. Apart from the continuation of nationalisation programmes seen recently in Saudi Arabia, governments must look to education and business climate.

Education and re-education will be particularly important tools. The skillsets of teachers, quality of classrooms and breadth of curricula need to be enhanced. STEM skills (which provide crucial complements to automation) and softer skills (which are harder to automate) need to become more widespread in classrooms. In addition, reskilling of older workers will become essential in helping them to remain relevant and skilled in the evolving labour market. This will help increase older worker labour force participation rates in some markets where it’s currently less than 50%, such as Saudi Arabia and Oman (2016 data).

Another approach GCC governments could take would be to encourage entrepreneurship. This will require a streamlining of trade-licensing bureaucracy and the establishment of legal and commercial regulations to protect both borrowers and lenders. Such protections should create a business environment conducive to long-term investment. Additionally, governments should allow FSI entities to adapt their products and services to the needs of short-term working capital for small businesses.

GCC countries are ageing rapidly – and by 2050, the region’s bulging youth population will be older and preparing to retire. With youth widely employed in automatable work today, GCC nations may in the future eventually find themselves with a highly aged population bearing the burden of acutely insufficient retirement savings – due to earnings losses sustained due to today’s automation. Governments in the region would do well to take note of the risks of ageing and automation, and ensure that the risks facing many European and OECD nations today do not replicate themselves for the Gulf further down the line.

Jeff Youssef is Partner in Public Sector, Oliver Wyman.

The post Ageing and Automation appeared first on Bloomberg Businessweek Middle East.

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[berniesrevolution]

All this week, Splinter is talking to healthcare experts about what advocates for a single payer system can learn from the National Health Service in my home country, the United Kingdom. Yesterday, we spoke with professor Martin McKee. Today, we’re talking with Rebecca Givan, an associate professor at the Center for Work and Health at Rutgers University, where she studies privatization in the NHS, labor relations and unions.

Libby Watson: What’s the difference between the NHS and single payer?

Rebecca Givan: The NHS is single payer, single provider. Single payer would mean multiple providers which could be public or private, and single provider means the government is the provider as well as the payer. Single payer means the government is purchasing services from a number of providers, which might still be private.

Libby Watson: The NHS is often used as a scary boogeyman by conservatives in the US, saying there are long wait times or poor conditions in NHS hospitals. Is that fair? What are the main problems with the NHS?

Rebecca Givan: The main problems with the NHS have been underfunding problems, which lead to capacity problems. Any system has to be funded properly or it won’t have enough capacity, but the fact is that the NHS is able to make decisions on need rather than based on profit.

Libby Watson: In my hometown in the UK, the local authority has often tried to end certain services at the hospital, like maternity services—there’s this idea of creating one big hospital per area that can do everything and closing local hospitals. How can that be avoided in designing an American system?

Rebecca Givan: I think making decisions based on need, rather than the other incentives of insurance companies and providers, is basically a better way to make decisions. You can decide that it’s important for everybody to have, let’s say, a trauma center or a place to give birth within a reasonable distance of their home, even if that’s expensive, the same way we do with fire departments. We believe everybody should have a fire department within a reasonable distance even though there are places where the population is more spread out & it’s more expensive.

Libby Watson: So why have those decisions—the lack of willingness to allocate the funds—been made in the UK?

Rebecca Givan: I think it has to do with the public budget and unwillingness to spend money, particularly when there’s a sort of general sense in the air that the right thing to do is keep corporate taxes low and incentivize corporations. There’s been an unwillingness to spend money. The general cost of healthcare has gone up as people are living longer and as technology has advanced, so more treatments for more conditions are available, when people would have earlier just died of those treatments. The most cost effective thing to do is always to let everybody die; that’s very very inexpensive, so a society has to decide whether and how much it wants to stop short of that, and what money it’s willing to spend. It’s always cheaper to let as many people die as possible.

Libby Watson: What’s your take on the New Labour approach (between 1997 and 2010)—bringing elements of privatization, like public-private partnerships, as a way to supposedly save money? How did that work out?

Rebecca Givan: The private provision has generally been fairly mixed. It’s a way to increase capacity by spreading out the cost, so if you want a new hospital, instead of having to have the public sector foot the bill this year for a new hospital, you can spread out that cost over 30 years, which makes it appear more affordable, but unfortunately means the for-profit private provider has the first call on any funding that you have and so the ability to be flexible and increase capacity goes away.

The jobs tend to be worse, although that’s not uniform, but if you’re hiring people like technicians and support staff they often don’t have the protections of public sector workers; they may be temporary workers for very low pay, without good background screening, so the work has been potentially degraded. Having an unstable inconsistent workforce can lead to all kinds of problems that are ultimately healthcare problems, like cross-contamination and infection. Having a stable, long-term workforce is something the public sector does really well and private providers tend to less well. But it’s primarily an accounting move: let’s move this off of the public sector bill now and pay for it spread out over time.

(Continue Reading)