#maybe life should be about more then just surviving

[a-b-riddle]

Part 2

Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.

For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.

Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.

Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.

For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.

But it wasn't.

And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.

Did they still want this?

The answer was clear.

You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.

Jesus.

A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.

You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.

You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.

Kyle.

Fuck.

Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.

Maybe that was just as bad.

What are you up to today?

That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.

You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.

E-mail the publisher back.

Change the locks.

You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.

No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.

So you didn't respond.

You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.

You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.

You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'

It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.

Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.

But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.

You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.

You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.

Fuck.

That almost got you.

You almost answered it.

Almost.

You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.

And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.

Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.

Not that you would really hear it again...

Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.

On my way. We need to talk.

It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.

The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.

Not my taste, Dove.

Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.

I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.

Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.

The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.

Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.

Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.

You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.

You just hoped you didn’t regret it.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #poly141 #angst #grovel #groveling

[arliedraws]

In the books, Sirius's devotion to Harry is of course very deep, but it never translates to something physical. He only shakes Harry's end when he leaves his bedside in book 4, and in book 5 there is something resembling a hug, like twice...? As a dog he stood up his hind legs and front paws on harry's shoulders and a half hug after Christmas. Idk it sort of drives me crazy, because in the movies Harry and Sirius are so affectionate! That first hug when Harry arrives in Grimmauld!! Gary and Dan had an amazing chemistry that other actors were jealous of, they mirrored the book characters, so it palpable on screen, the few scenes Gary is in at all at least.

So, what do you make of this? Do you in musing for art imagine a more affectionate relationship between Harry and Sirius? Maybe if Sirius survived the war? Molly's hug in book 4 was a poignant moment but imo that should have been a moment between Sirius and Harry. Sirius already says he expected something catastrophic to happen to Harry in the third task, that's what he stutters when Harry comes in with Dumblebore. So he is literally afraid of his godsons life and it still shows of course, Sirius staying at Harry's side was very beautifully written, like the devotion is clear, but I am foaming at the mouth for more affection between them in canon? Platonic, not shipping. So between the movies and the books Im just kinda torn what's better

It's more a rant than an ask, sorry lol, but if you have any input I'd he so stoked to read it. Not many peeps in the fandom even give Sirius and Harry any time of day, nvrmind even understand what they had (which also drives me kinda nuts but ok)

Ohhhh, anon, you’ve come to the right spot! Mostly because I love them. I would say that 80% of my fandom interest is just Sirius being a dad to Harry.

To your question, I don’t think one is better than the other. Each has their purpose. Let me share my thoughts:

1. I am soft for movie Sirius and Harry’s affectionate touching. However. The dynamics of their relationship were NOT mirrored from the books, which…is fine. Honestly, I just don’t think it was a priority for the filmmakers. This particular bit doesn’t bother me because the movies are not supposed to replace the source material—they are an interpretation. To me, watching the movies is like reading fic—fun to watch but not canon. Also, the filmmakers removed so much of their relationship in GoF that they HAD to make Sirius and Harry physically affectionate in order for movie audiences to see what losing Sirius would mean to Harry. Their complexity is completely unexplored in the films, and they had to do SOMETHING to get the audience to feel sad when Sirius died. This started in PoA when they really downplayed the context of their relationship. (Lol, see my rant on PoA. I really don’t like that movie hahahahaha.)

2. In the books, Harry and Sirius are not physically affectionate with each other despite their intense love for each other, and I think this is an effective way to show characterization. As I tell my students, this might have been intentional by the author, but it could have been an instinct that she followed (what feels right for the characters).

Here’s what I think: both are so terrified of losing the other that they won’t allow themselves to get too close, and, crucially, they both fear showing vulnerability. Touching someone and reaching out for a hug or comfort is an extremely vulnerable thing to do. If you reach out for a hug, you are showing your true feelings. To be rejected physically is sometimes more devastating than someone telling you to just “go away.” It’s a sign of trust to touch someone—you are trusting that they feel the same way about you, and you are trusting that they won’t pull away. Both Sirius and Harry understand rejection, and both avoid it. How do you avoid rejection? You distance yourself.

I’ll put the rest under a cut because I think this might get long…

Sirius and Harry, for all that they love each other, fall out of trusting each other by OotP. Part of this is trauma, but it is also miscommunication. Harry is worried that Sirius will do something stupid—either out of concern for Harry or because he wants to get out of number 12–but he’s worried he’ll lose Sirius. So by withholding affection (which I’m not sure if he knows how to give physically), Harry distances himself from Sirius which will, theoretically, keep Sirius safe (of course, it backfires). Sirius is…you know…going through stuff in OotP. He is already vulnerable—he perceives himself as being emasculated because he’s not allowed to leave his childhood home and he’s relegated to performing ‘uninteresting, domestic work’, and he must be inactive when he’s a man OF action.

When it comes to Goblet of Fire and the odd handshake… I think Sirius is reeeeeally holding back. Harry does NOT want him to go, and Sirius knows this. (Why DOES Dumbledore send him away? Literally anyone else could have “alerted the old crowd” and NOT the convicted murderer. This is clearly the author’s excuse to get Sirius away from Harry—and, I’ve spoken to this before, Sirius is too much of a miracle character—too smart, too loyal, too loving to support the story that the author wanted to tell.) Sirius, if he had stayed, would have been the emotional support that Harry needed. So if Sirius holds Harry, what if Harry doesn’t let go? What if Sirius himself can’t let go? A handshake will have to do.

So Sirius leaves Harry with that bizarre handshake. That Sirius leaves at all damages their relationship—it could have been repaired with time (if they’d been allowed time), but this moment makes Harry realize that he cannot rely on anyone, not even Sirius. This leaves Harry to be isolated in OotP, and it leaves him to feel like he cannot trust anyone. I’m not blaming Sirius for leaving, but I believe this action causes a rift between them that carries into the next book.

My point is, I HATE that they don’t touch but it is very important that they don’t, at least when it comes to the story that the author wanted to tell. I think it was the right move when we look at the story as a whole. Do I like it? NO! But it’s interesting, and it DOES feel right for them. Is it devastating? Yes!!!!!!!

TL;DR: I don’t think either interpretation is necessarily better than the other, but they both have their purpose. Both are effective!

Touch is…huge in HP. Consider Voldemort’s “I can touch him now” and causing Harry pain. Touch is a privilege, and to be touched without permission is a violation. Harry kills someone by touching them. He is only touched by his family when Dudley beats him up or he gets shoved in his cupboard.

Weirdly, one of my absolutely favorite moments when Sirius and Harry touch is in PoA when the Dementors are closing in on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione, and Harry, as he’s about to faint, reaches out to grab an unconscious Sirius by the arm, thinking something along the lines of “the dementors weren’t going to take him” and such. And this is about two seconds after Harry has accepted that Sirius is telling the truth! Harry physically tethers Sirius to him—this touch-starved teen reaches out to this man who is now everything to him, who is now his only real family, willing to risk death (or worse) to keep it. BUT THEY JUST MET!!!!! Devastating!!!

Also…another thought: the first time Sirius and Harry touch is the first time Sirius has been touched as a human in twelve years. And Harry is beating the absolute shit out of him…and then Sirius nearly strangles him…

Also, also, not to like…self-promote, but if you want some Sirius & Harry family feelings and a wee bit of affectionate touching, I wrote a one-shot where they talk about their feelings in OotP.

Anyway, this got longer than I thought. Thank you for the prompt!!

#if this sounds critical of sirius it’s not #he is a Very Good Character #if he were ‘perfect’ he’d be boring #i like his messy parts #and i like harry’s #i wish there had been more of them together #but i like that we can build the relationship outside of what we’re given #i love AUs #sirius black #harry potter #hp meta #long post #asks

[kjack89]

Dial Drunk

5 times Enjolras bailed Grantaire out of jail, and one time, well...

The door of the holding cell clanked open and as one, the nine men sitting inside glanced up. “Alright,” the booking officer said in a bored tone, glancing down at his clipboard. “Bail’s been posted for arrestees Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Joly, Lesgle and Prouvaire. You’re free to leave after you sign out at the front desk.”

There were a few grumbles as the men started to get to their feet, but Enjolras remained resolutely seated, his brow furrowed with a frown. “What about Grantaire?”

The man in question chuckled darkly, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell. “Is that actual concern for me that I hear, Apollo? I could die happy.”

Enjolras ignored him. “Pontmercy was supposed to post bail for all of us,” he said instead, aiming his words at Courfeyrac as if the man was somehow still responsible for the actions of his former roommate some five years after they had stopped living together.

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I mean, we all know Marius is a bit of an idiot, maybe he miscounted.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I’m probably wrong and should defer to the lawyers amongst us but I thought I remembered reading something in one of the articles about reforming pre-trial detention that an individual can only post bail for 8 detainees at a time.”

“And so I must’ve drawn the short straw,” Grantaire sighed. “Story of my fucking life.”

Bossuet clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “On the other hand, you could take it as a compliment that Marius thinks you’re the one most likely to survive an extended stay behind bars.”

Bahorel snorted so loudly the bars of the cell almost rattled. “Sorry but literally not a single one of us would survive an extended stay behind bars.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feuilly said. “I know how to whittle.” At the blank looks he received, he huffed a sigh and added, “So I can make a shank. No wonder none of you would survive in jail.”

“This is making our goal of prison abolition seem oddly self-serving,” Joly murmured in an undertone to Jehan, who stifled a laugh.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not sympathetic to Grantaire having to be stuck in here, but I’d just like to remind everyone that since Marius posted bail, we’re technically now here voluntarily.”

“Yeah so GTFO,” Grantaire said with a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Let me rot in peace, etcetera.”

Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue more, but Combeferre muttered something in his ear and he made a face before filing out of the cell. “Serious miscalculation on Marius’s part with this one,” Courfeyrac said brightly as he followed everyone else out. “Because God knows you’re going to complain about this for the rest of all time.”

Grantaire gave him the finger and Courfeyrac winked as the officer closed the cell door behind him.

Sighing again, Grantaire sat upright, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before settling back against the bench. “You need anything?” the booking officer asked.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah,” he said dismissively. “Not my first rodeo. Hopefully I won’t be stuck overnight, but I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Oh, yeah?” the officer said with mild interest.

Grantaire nodded. “Central booking at the 16th Precinct is a piece of shit,” he said brightly.

The officer barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Grantaire a long look. “Should I ask what you were picked up for previously?”

Considering the answer to that question was a vast litany of misdemeanors (and felonies reduced to misdemeanors) that the boys in blue tended not to appreciate, Grantaire hesitated. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer at all by the crackle of the officer’s walkie-talkie. “Just a moment,” the officer told him, heading out of the booking area and Grantaire let out a sigh of relief as he slumped on the bench.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said upon returning, and Grantaire looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

The officer nodded, opening the door to the holding cell. “Bail was posted. So I guess you’ll have to save your rap sheet for the next time you’re in here.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “I’d say there won’t be a next time, but…” 

He ducked out before the officer could respond to that, making his way to the front desk, stopping in his tracks when he saw Enjolras leaning against the desk, clearly waiting for him. “What’re you doing here?”

Enjolras straightened. “It didn’t feel right leaving you in there,” he said with a shrug that didn’t quite come across as nonchalant as he’d probably intended. “And I happened to have some cash on me, so…”

“Between this and being worried about my welfare, you’re gonna give me the wrong impression,” Grantaire said.

“Guess that depends on what impression you’re getting,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and away again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. Enjolras cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Anyway, we should get to the Musain to debrief.” He glanced at Grantaire. “Unless you’ve got something better to do.”

Grantaire just shook his head, and gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “After you,” he said, his voice low, and together they walked out of the precinct, their arms just brushing against each other as they headed to meet their friends at the Musain.

— — — — —

“Jesus Christ,” Enjolras muttered as the booking officer removed the handcuffs from a sheepish-looking Grantaire. Well, as sheepish as a man sporting the beginnings of a pretty impressive black eye could look, anyway. “Here,” Enjolras said roughly, holding an ice pack out to Grantaire. “I posted your bail as well.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire muttered, taking the ice pack and wincing as he pressed it against his eye.

Enjolras pursed his lips as he gave him a once-over. “Any other injuries I need to worry about?” he asked.

Grantaire just shrugged. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“Because that’s reassuring,” Enjolras sighed, rubbing his forehead, but when he looked at Grantaire again, there was something almost soft in his expression. “You didn’t need to do that.”

What he could see of Grantaire’s expression tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t hear what that guy called you.”

He said it calmly, evenly, but his hand automatically balled into a fist at the memory. Enjolras reached out automatically to rest his hand on Grantaire’s fist until it relaxed. “It doesn’t matter what he called me,” he said, his voice low. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Grantaire scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Enjolras just shook his head, running his thumb across Grantaire’s bruised knuckles, a testament to the fact that despite the black eye, he’d emerged from the fight victorious. “I should’ve brought another ice pack,” he murmured.

Grantaire just half-smiled, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Enjolras’s. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really hurt at the moment anyway.”

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away, but he didn’t try to untangle his fingers from Grantaire’s. “Well,” he said, “we should, uh, get out of here.”

“Before they realize you have about a half dozen outstanding warrants for your arrest?” Grantaire asked with a smirk, his voice quiet enough that only Enjolras could hear.

“You’d be amazed what having a multi-million dollar settlement pending against the city will do to the police’s willingness to bring you in,” Enjolras said with a smirk. “Not that I want to test that, of course.”

“Liar,” Grantaire said, grinning. “But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras didn’t immediately follow. “Thank you, by the way,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire glanced back at him.

“Anytime,” he said simply. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Enjolras gave him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he warned. “One day I won’t be here to bail you out.”

“Only because you’ll probably be locked up with me,” Grantaire said.

“Well,” Enjolras murmured, not quite able to stop his smile, “you’re not wrong.”

— — — — —

Grantaire rested his elbows against the bars of the holding cell, his arms dangling into what was technically freedom on the other side. The booking officer, some new guy he didn’t recognize, gave him a look but didn’t say anything, which he took as a small victory, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

A smirk that faded as soon as he saw Enjolras, escorted by another officer. “No dice on bail?” Grantaire asked, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, they’re going to go through the whole arraignment rigamarole. I’ve already let Pontmercy know.” He made a face, casting an irritated look at the booking officer who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. “Apparently they take battery of a police officer pretty seriously these days.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Grantaire muttered. Enjolras sighed and Grantaire gave him a look. “Don’t even start,” he warned. “This wasn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Enjolras interrupted, his voice tight. “I’m well aware that cop would’ve bashed my head in if you hadn’t intervened.” He shook his head and sighed again. “I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, managing a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras just shook his head again. “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he continued, “because honestly, I’m not worth all that—”

“You are, though,” Grantaire said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, then why don’t we make a deal?” he said. “I’ll stop defending you when you stop bailing me out.”

“At the rate you’re going, I won’t be able to anyway,” Enjolras said sourly. “Not without putting up some major collateral.”

Grantaire shook his head. “And I’m definitely not worth that,” he said.

Enjolras’s eyes met his. “You are, though.”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might argue. Instead, he reached for Enjolras’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles through the bars of the holding cell. “No touching,” the booking officer barked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Enjolras’s hand. 

“Will you be at my arraignment?” he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “Someone’s got to post whatever bail amount the judge decides,” he said.

Grantaire half-smiled. “In that case, I’ll be the one in the front.” 

“Pretty sure that’ll be the judge,” Enjolras murmured, grinning when Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“It’ll be the only thing that gets me through spending the night in here,” Grantaire told him, and it was Enjolras’s turn to roll his eyes, though there was obvious affection in the motion.

“Pretty sure Bahorel was right,” he said. “You definitely wouldn’t survive in jail.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Only if you were in there with me.”

Enjolras shook his head, reluctantly backing away toward the door. “Still time,” he said, and Grantaire’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m locked up in here.”

Enjolras just smirked. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he left, and Grantaire sighed, though there something strangely content in the noise, despite, or maybe because of, the circumstances.

— — — — —

Grantaire didn’t meet Enjolras’s eyes as he rapped his fingers impatiently against the front desk at the precinct, waiting for them to bring him his personal effects. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. Grantaire looked pointedly at the conspicuous clock on the wall and Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “Exactly, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. I have a 7 o’clock meeting, which you knew damn well, so why you had to go pick a bar fight with some guy twice your fucking size—”

“So sorry to be an inconvenience to you,” Grantaire drawled, slurring his words just slightly. “Can’t imagine what it must be like to have made plans that get interfered with by someone else’s priorities.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Are we really doing this here and now?” he asked.

Grantaire just jerked a shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Do you have something better to do?”

Enjolras sighed and scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight,” he said, with as much patience as he could seemingly muster, considering the circumstances. “But I needed to get this proposal done ahead of the meeting tomorrow, and I don’t really see what the big deal—”

“You never do,” Grantaire interrupted, still not looking at him. “That’s the problem.”

“You knew going into this—”

“Just like you knew going into this that I’m a drunk and a disaster,” Grantaire interrupted, finally looking at Enjolras, his expression hard. “Well, congratulations, Apollo, it looks like we both knew what we were getting into and yet somehow, we’re both still disappointed.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I’m not,” he said tiredly. “I’m not disappointed, Grantaire, because that would require me to actually expect better from you, and I learned my lesson on that a long time ago.”

Grantaire just grinned, a horrible, twisted grin. “Right back atcha.”

The officer returned with Grantaire’s belongings, and Grantaire grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, returning them to his pockets. Enjolras took a deep breath, but whatever he clearly wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked away. “C’mon,” he said instead. “Let’s go home.”

Grantaire nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slumped after Enjolras, neither man touching the other.

— — — — —

“He’s not technically under arrest,” the cop told Enjolras as he led him back to the holding cell. “But that’s because we couldn’t really mirandize him when he was passed out.”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire, sprawled across the bench in the holding cell, and sighed. “So once he’s coherent, he’ll be charged with, what, drunk and disorderly?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at Enjolras. “Look, it’s not my place, but, uh, maybe look into getting your friend some help?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras murmured, his expression drawn. “Maybe.” He sighed and turned. “Guess I’ll go preemtively pay his bail—”

“Apollo?” Grantaire croaked, and Enjolras sighed again.

“Give us a moment?” he asked the officer, who just shrugged.

Enjolras crossed to the bars of the holding cell, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “Tell me,” he said, his tone clipped, “were you trying to get hit by a car by passing out in the street, or would have just been a fun little side effect of this spectacular attempt at blowing up your life?”

Grantaire groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Honestly don’t remember if it was deliberate or not,” he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked unfocusedly at Enjolras.

“There are easier ways of killing yourself,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire managed a small, sharp smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve considered those as well.”

Enjolras’s expression tightened and he looked away. “You used your one phone call for me,” he said.

Grantaire shrugged. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Probably anyone besides your ex.” Grantaire flinched and Enjolras sighed before telling him, as firmly as he could manage, “This is the last time. Do you understand?”

Grantaire barked a dry, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I can promise, Apollo, it’s that this won’t be the last time.”

“Maybe not for you,” Enjolras said. “But I’m done. So the next time you get picked up for a bar fight or public intoxication or whatever suicidal shit you decide to get yourself into next time, call someone else.”

He didn’t wait for Grantaire to answer, just turning on heel to leave him in the holding cell while he went to go pay his bail.

One last time.

— — — — —

The phone rang, and rang again, and Grantaire’s grip on the phone tightened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

But the phone just rang until the tinny, robotic voice informed him that no voicemail had been set up for this phone number, and he heaved a sigh as he hung up, a headache blooming in his temples that had absolutely nothing to the better part of a handle of whiskey that he’d worked his way through that evening. 

“Nothing?” the booking officer asked, and Grantaire ground his teeth together at the fake sympathetic tone.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before heading back to the holding cell.

The booking officer trailed after him. “Do you, uh, want to try calling someone else?”

Grantaire just shook his head. “No,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the officer opened the door of the cell for him. “I’ll try again later. He’s probably asleep.”

The officer glanced up at the clock that showed it was barely 10pm, and he shook his head as he closed the door after Grantaire. “Your choice,” he said with a shrug.

Grantaire sighed heavily as he slumped down onto the hard metal bench, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for an absent glass or bottle of beer, or else for a hand that used to be his to hold. His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell.

He closed his eyes against the tears that he could feel prick in the corners of his eyes, though he honestly didn’t know if he was crying because Enjolras hadn’t picked up, or because there was a part of him that still thought that maybe, in the morning, he would. One more time.

#ExR #Enjolras x Grantaire #Enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #Les Amis #fanfiction #Les Miserables #modern AU #5+1 things #developing relationship #established relationship #and because it's me #former relationship #mild angst

[onlysanepeoplesleep]

possible tw: brief mention of an eating disorder and body dysmorphia (implied but it’s barely there??).

There was no doubt when someone said Kevin was beautiful or pretty. Everyone complemented his looks, even Tetsuji had said that his looks could be used and he should use them. He hadn’t understood when he was younger what that meant exactly, but he understood now.

You could get anything just by having a pretty face and an eye-catching body. Maybe that’s why he was put on strict diets in the Nest. So the photoshoots they took months later would show his slim waist and lean figure. Riko always said his eyes were the prettiest part about him, and thus were meant to be kept unharmed.

His face never showed any sign of the abuse he had received in the Nest, even years after people still believed he had had it easy. Maybe that’s why he hated his self-image so much, why he stared at the mirror for seconds longer than he should. Why he hated eating anything above the calorie intake he was meant to. Because he had had it easy. Life had been easy for him, he shouldn’t worry others with his problems because he didn’t have any.

He was fine because he wasn’t traumatised. He wasn’t hurt the way Neil or Jean were. He didn’t have lasting scars except for the one on his left hand — and even that wasn’t as bad as the ones Jean or Neil carried.

Everything was fine. He was fine. Nothing was wrong.

And yet… if something wasn’t wrong, if he was truly okay — then why did he still have nightmares? Why did he awake abruptly at night drenched in sweat and riddled with fear? Maybe he was a coward, why else would he have nightmares when his experiences in the Nest had been nothing compared to what Jean suffered. What Neil suffered. Why should he have nightmares when Neil woke from them more frequently? When Kevin didn’t deserve to be traumatised because he wasn’t.

Everybody believed that was true so why shouldn’t he?

Betsy would probably say it wasn’t good to think like that. It wasn’t healthy to undermine his own trauma (which he didn’t have) just because someone else experienced the same things — just differently. She’d tell him to focus on his own nightmares and focus on trying to heal, but what was there to heal from if he was fine? Because he was. He was fine, as fine as one could be.

So he didn’t deserve the small reassurances his friends gave him. Didn’t deserve any kind of affection from them especially because it should be the other way round, but Kevin’s not sure how to comfort people and he knows he should know because if he’s fine and everything in his life has been fine up until this point — then how come he can’t give solace to those whose lives aren’t?

Why must he be so selfish and rude and stupid and a coward? Riko hardly did anything to him. He wasn’t beaten as much as Jean, he wasn’t tortured as much as Neil, he wasn’t broken. He survived the Nest and was fine, so that meant he had no room to argue with those who didn’t. Those who were braver then him. Who endured the pain because they didn’t know much else.

Kevin had the key to his cage whereas Neil and Jean didn’t. That was the difference. That was why he was fine and they weren’t. That’s why they needed to be loved and cared for and he didn’t.

He was not fine. He hadn’t been fine in years, but he’d never voice that aloud. He’d never disagree when someone said he had it lucky; when they said he was spoiled for thinking he didn’t. Whatever horrors he had been through in the Nest didn’t matter because in the end, the only way for people to realise just how broken you truly were was if they had visible evidence. And in that, Kevin was lacking.

#haha I am having a field day rn #the words are just coming to me #I blame my lights for being so shitty #kevin day angst is a minuscule part of this fandom and I crave more #it’s currently 2:35 am in the morning pls do not blame me for my actions #kevin day #aftg #all for the game #the kings men #the raven king #the foxhole court #kevin day angst #sad kevin day #y aren’t these tags??? #give kevin some love y’all #neil josten #jean moreau #riko moriyama #tetsuji moriyama

[vvitchering]

I think maybe everyone should cool it with the “weird cult” comments regarding the covert, honestly. It wasn’t that funny to begin with but now that it’s the popular describer it’s starting to become a little uncomfy. No one is forced to join, no one is forced to stay. There’s a ton of parallels between them and real world cultures and religions and I just think MAYBE we need to be a little more aware of what message we’re sending when we say “haha that group of people who are in hiding because their lives were/are at stake and who practice anonymity to survive and follow certain rules that I don’t personally understand or like are a weird cult”.

#maybe we should lay off that word #I’m not the first person to say this obviously but now it’s starting to make me a little 😬 #really wish this season had done what it should have and explored Din’s relationship with his faith #then maybe we’d learn more about the covert and Mandalorian culture and people wouldn’t feel the need to use this kind of language #they’re not a cult they’re just a group of people trying to survive in a universe that would prefer they did not #and that hits home for a lot of real people watching #anyway there’s that #the mandalorian #everyone a Din stan til we talk about how his faith is still a huge part of his character and his life #although the show really really needs to address how all of the events so far have changed his mindset #personally I don’t think he wants to leave his creed behind #but I think he would benefit from reevaluating what it means to him Now as opposed to when he took it as a child #the fact of the matter is: the covert and the creed are Important to Din on a fundamental level #would he enjoy you running around calling his family a cult? probs not #mine

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#hello to anyone who happens to b interested in the saga of my life... also maybe the irl person i gave my url to... hopefully my blog #didnt freak her out too much lol. anyway so its been a busy week? 2 weeks? month? year? life? its been a lot. my parents helped me move #across the country from the desert to somewhere that's beautiful and green. my dad is so jealous of me lol its so so so pretty and theres s #so much to do. will i do any of it? that remains to be seen but im gonna try to be better about that sort of thing. try to get some help #with the thoughts in my head that keep me from doing and enjoying most things. its weird like im decorating my new room which i love. the #location and living situation seem ideal and i really hope i can stay here all 5 years of my program but i was picking a lot of bright #colors and now it feel uncomfortable. like if i wear things that r too bright or my room is too bright without dark contrast it feel weird #like if im wearing it it kinda makes me feel sick. idk what thats abt. anyway. ill try to heal my brain and im just so happy to b out of the #southwest. i was so so so excited when we were leaving thr city and even more so when we left the state. i cant believe im here. in December #it felt like a million years away and i really truely could not fathom how i was gonna survive that long. my thoughts were so distorted. but #i did and here i am. and in like a month i should b starting my phd program and my parents were telling me how excited ppl r for me and #jealous of where im living and im glad. im glad they're excited. i think i am too but its under a layer of: if i get excited it wont happen #im not allowed to b excited or it wont happen. which is irrational but ya kno. anyway so that's yeah. im so happy to have a fresh start and #the town seems super cool. a liberal blip in a sea of... not that so theyre very visibly pride forward haha and i think itll b way easier #for me to get around without driving. and im gonna try to make friends. i need someone to tell me where to get tattoos haha. so yea im happy #but exhausted and i dont wanna go back to work and so so greatful to my parents for being wonderful ppl idk how bc both of them had fucked #up childhoods. like my mum will say the saddest shit and im like bro this is y i don't wanna talk to my grandma fuck her and my dads parents #r so fucked. like my nana is the reason im so fucking control freaked out but i kno i have issues and she has no insight and thinks shes #better than everyone. anyway hopefully i can get back to drawing a posting more now. ive been drawing it its been in a sketch book #like an actual sketch book for sketching big ideas thst r gonna take fucking forever to draw 😭 #so that's all. just uprooted my whole life. thats all. but in a good way :-] #unrelated

[missmouse25]

rambling in the tags

#sometimes its hard to be happy for other people and you dont know why #it's a feeling im no unfamiliar with but it's been a long time since i've felt it that i dont know how i coped with it the last time #i really feel like i should be happy for her #and i know that deep down its not about the car it's more than that #she's already so independent and ambitious #this is just going to multiply it tenfold #and maybe it's also because im older than her that i feel that i should be the first to experience things #but that's never been my life #not compared to hers or any of my friends #right now it feels like my life is in a survival mode #im really only thinking day to day and not long term #and the stuff that is long term is so daunting and big #all of that to say that im in my feels and im probably going to be here for awhile #gonna make an appointment with the therapist for next week #dl

[ember-not-amber]

Monty and Jasper should have been a couple, they had more chemistry and would make more sense as a couple. Their relationships with women were so boring and the way they were written (their relationships with women) just didn’t give me a reason to care about them or root for their relationship. Harper came out of nowhere in season 4 like we had barely seen her in the earlier seasons and she’s not even a main character so we don’t see why she and Monty would like each other. I hope that will be cleared up in the books bc I’m planning to read them and I’m hoping this is just the show fucking up details in the books.

Monty x Jasper would be the childhood friends to lovers trope and it just makes sense bc as viewers we’ve seen them have more interactions than they have had with their female love interests. LET THEM BE GAY!! GIVE US MORE THAN CLARKE BEING SAPPHIC I WANNA SEE THESE MEN KISS!

#original post #the 100 #jasper jordan #monty green #I found it difficult to root for Monty and Harper bc she barely had any speaking lines until season 4 so Idk why I should care about her or #why Monty cares about her. I definitely would have rooted for them if she got more speaking lines in the seasons before S4 bc then I would #know more about her as a character #I’m a straight girl and I usually like straight couples bc I can mentally insert myself into it #but not when one of the characters hasn’t been around long enough for me to know anything about them and they seemingly come out of nowhere #I also didn’t really care for Maya bc she was from Mount Weather and didn’t fully understand Jasper’s life as someone living on the Ark and #then being sent down to Earth as part of the 100 and having to fight Grounders and watch his friends die and having to bury them #like it’s just a whole experience that someone would have to be there in order to bond with that person #but sometimes maybe that’s what a person needs is someone who doesn’t know a life like that so that they can finally live a normal #fulfilling life with no more death and fighting to survive just pure living #but even so I still found their relationship boring and I didn’t really like Maya #and I feel like Jasper and Monty would make a better couple #the 100 fandom

[madigoround]

💜

#okay so here’s the thing is that a hardware store near me is having a big sale this weekend and there’s a few things that I had been eyeing #and researching for my home that are on sale like my living room / kitchen have really tall ceilings and I’d need an extra tall ladder to #get up there to change lightbulbs check the fire alarm and paint and they have one on sale from like 160 to 120 tomorrow that seems like a #good choice and I need a random orbital sander for some projects like sanding the wood planks that we are going to use to replace my porch #and I’ve been working on sanding my kitchen table I got used to get the paint off and stain instead and similar with my coffee table and #that’s on sale from like 50 to 20 dollars plus the sanding pads are on sale a few bucks off as well #and I think there’s one or two smaller things plus I need to get groceries tomorrow and I got a coupon in the mail for free fries with a #purchase at a burger place and I was thinking of taking myself out to lunch tomorrow before I saw about the sale and started making #decisions about potentially spending a lot of money and I have anxiety spending money and I’ve been working on it but it’s still something #that I will probably struggle with somewhat for the rest of my life it’s about managing in healthy #ways instead blah blah blah but sometimes when I talk to my aunt about this she gets frustrated with me because she thinks if I need those #things and have the money I should just buy it and not cause a scene about it and I don’t want to be dramatic but it’s like a #piercing adrenaline fear of not having the money to survive or get what I need in the future and anyways this isn’t what I meant to talk #about what I meant to talk about was that I’m thinking of spending a lot of money tomorrow and technically I have the money and the stuff is #on sale at least the hardware stuff not the groceries so despite it feeling like I’m spending a lot of money at once it will be more cost #efficient to buy them tomorrow than if I waited a few months and there wasn’t a sale going on #so I should purchase them and get groceries and maybe MAYBE even take myself out to lunch as a celebration of how much effort I’ve been #putting into fixing up my home that I love so much and just getting through this period of so much change as best I can #and not have a panic attack about it because it’s going to be okay and I have the money and I have a job with money coming in and I need #those items anyway and will need to buy them at some point and they will likely be more expensive in the future so it is okay for me to #spend the money on it now and it’s not the end of the world everything is going to be okay *right*? #I don’t know I’m just talking to myself mostly #this was a way to get my thoughts out about it without being advised to just get over it #also my tummy hurts and I’m being so brave about it #sort of lol

[love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward]

seeing advice on how to feel in control of your life and it always assumes everyone is a working 20 something adult who has their life somewhat together

#like what if i wanna find healthy ways to control my life so i dont fucking jump my mom with a knife and rip her open with my bare hands #what then bro #yes this is about my fucking hair again #the only thing that rivals my horrid gender dysphoria is my sheer terror towards my mom. #i cannot stand to be in the same country as her and im not exaggerating #get me out NOW #ever since 11th grade ive distinctly felt like ive outgrown all this? #this whole. living with your parents and going to school and people tell me what to wear and how to speak and what i cant do with my life? #like that was fine back when i was 12 take it back now #honestly i just need to drag these few months along. its not even a long time now. #but just. i think my body cannot handle any more adrenaline. like physically #its like im tightrope walking the line of maximum survival instinct tolerance and cannot handle any push at all #like. tiny weird noises at night or subtle acts of power or someone banging something too loud. #i already have to clock like 25 different things in my surroundings the piece of plastic that keeps crinkling is Not Helping and honestly #makes me wanna cry #im pretty much at the end of my rope here honestly #i think half my problems would be fixed if i had a friend. not acquaintances or people i eat with or people online ive never spoken to #but. a human to actually have a conversation with who isnt bigoted. i would kill for anyone like that rn tbh #anyway this was a rant #maybe i should tag my rants so it doesnt disrupt peoples dashes

[gazelessmenagerie]

( the urge to just delete asks im not feeling is so high but at the same time the urge to answer them bc im that much of a stubborn ass bastard is biting into it. )

#|| Tag: OOC #( ...there are two wolves-- ) #( FDSLJG i take ages and im sorry for it. back in highschool or early college. i'd have gotten this all done in a snap ) #( but fuck man. been busy. got other things to do. maybe i just can't do it that day bc my brain is not in the right state. ) #( ive been in more of a self-driven story to write just bc it doesn;t really need a reply to move forward but its an Option regardless. ) #( think of it as just possible plot hooks. ) #( i mean there's only so much I can do with this bastar that doesn't revolve around destroying cities and high stakes like that. ) #( and i get that not everyone likes having that level. sooo that's why he just mainly hangs out in some gd desert. ) #( doing survival things. not caring about world conquest bc lmfao? why should he? ) #( he did it plenty of times before. whats so great about it than he gets to have a nicer palace but even then ) #( stupid inhabitants want to /get their freedome/ and /this is an atrocity to our people/ ) #( *cue broly just making those large sarcastic quotations with his fingers* ) #( fuck that ssomething i need to draw when ihave the chance. ) #( yeah this is how my damn brain goes. bc tags are like whispering and I like that a lot better than putting every damn thought ) #( that crosses my head on main wihtout it being asked for or detracts from my initial post/thought ) #( just UGH. maybe i do need to write him destroying shit. ) #( much as i like him getting a better life. sometimes i want him to be depraved and destructive. ) #( he can be both. ) #( anyway thats the end of my other essay in the tags ) #( Im not gonna put a hard limit on myself to answer and see if that helps crank the brain juices a bit. )

[dhampir-dyke]

vent, suicide ment in tags. I'm safe rn I'm just in a bad mental place rn because of a conversation with my parents.

#im crying so hard i feel like i cant breathe #i hate my fucking parents #theyve fucking ruined me and have the gall to say they love me no matter what #and that theyve always been proud of me #what a fucking lie #youve made me feel like a worthless piece of shit and an embarrasment my whole FUCKING LIFE #you made me want to kill myself SINCE I WAS A LITTLE KID #fuck you!!!!! just because you went through worse as a child doesnt mean you get to tell me im overemotional and dramatic #and that i just need to leave it in the past #YOU MADE ME LIVE THROUGH PURW FUCKING HELL FOR 18 FUCKING YEARSSSS #you made me feel like i deserved to die because i was a waste of time and space #I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED WHAT I HAVE NOT VECAUSE YOU DID A GREAT JOB AS PARENTS #BUT BECAUSE I HAVE SCRAPED AND CLAWRD AND DONE EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO SURVIVE AND GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM YOU #i wanna puke. they really believe themselves when they say i 'never tried' and always put in the 'bare minimum' #while i was so depressed and anxious i couldnt eat or sleep #and attempted suicide every month or so for 7 YE A R S #i STILL want to fucking kill myself!!!!!!! every day i think about taking all the pills in my medicine cabinet and washing it down w booze #i cant own a gun because i know ill probably blow my brains out #and they just dont believe me. nobody fucking believes me when i tell them how much fucking pain and anguish im in. #they tell me they should have beaten me more as a child!!!! that maybe then i wouldve fucking acted right #i wish my dad would have just fucking killed me back then just so theyd have to fucking deal with the consequences and i could finally rest #i remember seeing the nails jutting through the wall he slammed me into and being disappointed they didnt go right through my fucking head #all the horrible fucking things they have said and done to me #i wish i could make them feel even a fractuon of my fucking pain and suffering and self self hatred #you all have no fucking clue how deep the fucking trauma goes. the things ive heard and seen and been through #the things ive done to myself #i remember one of the happiest moments of my whole life- i had just taken every pill in the house i could stand. i washed it down with soda #and i remember smiling so wide. the pain was finally gonna be over! i was finally gonna be able to escape and rest #i was so happy nd excited and relieved. my parents wouldnt terrorize me anymore. its not like i was ever going to be anything but a failure

[featherymainffins]

Making a bunch of Dunmeshi OCs and I can guarantee you none of these losers would survive the dungeon

#or maybe theyd survive the dungeon but not real life. hard to say at this stage really #theres a guy who fucking hates explaining why he got no legs because they were eaten and he finds it exhausting #'oh why are you in a wheelchair' 'because i got no legs bitch' #or maybe i should change it to something more like having legs but not having any feeling in them #to be able to vent my frustration that i feel every time people are a little too annoying about my cane #like i know they mean well but like...'oh why do you have that?' guess. you have 3 attempts. #and its like when its a good day and i dont take my cane with me people get mad at me for sitting down in the tram #they assume that since im young there has to be everything right with me #like newsflash asshole my legs suck my body sucks my whole organism sucks and im sitting down because i need to be sitting down #and i hate having to defend myself and explain myself as if i were some sort of spectacle. #and when i take my cane people arent mean but sometimes theyre just annoying. #anyway sorry that turned into a rant

[dykevenusian]

i love going through my personal tag it’s like getting to remember my life

#personal posting #this is meant to be read as /lh btw #anyways i’m sicky but actually trying to get better whilst rescheduling my therapy appt bcus APPARENTLY #calling out directly before or after a holiday means you don’t get paid for said holiday #and i hate this hellworld we live in so much #and i am so so sleepy also emotionally speaking i could not handle going into work today so hopefully everything is squared away for tmm #taking space from another talking stage that this time got too emotional too fast and like that never happens with me #so i am. very confused by this. also i think it’s fucking with my memory even more that we smoke so much together i literally get my days #mixed up #idk man i’m just trying to survive out here but i don’t feel like i’m doing a good job except for when i do #hey also jic future me is wondering no i’m not back on antidepressants yet #i should be soon tho! i’m getting them delivered #this feels like the movie momento. i am momento #also like can i just have the time to make my life solely about hanging out with gay communist bitches who also want to cuddle and make out #and take it slow. and maybe not be monog? (idk abou that yet i’m just not please with it rn) please and thank you #speaking of going thru this tag i’m trying to find out when i stopped being on my antidepressants and i feel like i can tell by how frequent #i say Thing Are Getting Bad

[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

#covid isn't over #covid 19 #disability rights #disability advocacy #wear a mask #covid conscious #covid cautious #mask up #wall of words #public health #health care