#If it’s infected imma be so mad y’all

[creative-chaos-apparently]

“You’ll be all better by day three.” BULLSHIT

[yoongis-scooter]

senior year, but make it infected

pairing: yoongi x reader (yoongi seems to be in high demand so imma just keep writing for him until 1) someone requests another member or 2) i write something good that’s with another member lol)

word count: 1,029

genre: highschool!au, best friends!au (you n yoongles reminisce about your senior year) (also tried to make it funny but im not funny so)

warnings: this involves covid-19 and essentially how high school seniors are being effected by that so if that upsets you/triggers you don’t read! also there’s a couple swear words

authors note: hi y’all!!! i am/was a senior this year so i’ve def been reminiscing on my high school memories n such :’) also a lil fun fact!! all the stories told in this fic are inspired by things that have actually happened to me lolol but yea!! i hope you enjoy!!

new cases of covid-19 confirmed!

restaurants shutting down do to covid-19!

CDC recommends that citizens stay quarantined!

that’s all your news feed had been for weeks now. you feel awful for everyone that’s been affected, sure, but you find it hard to care now that your last few months of your teenage years have been infected with this god forsaken disease.

you’re mother told you that you were being over dramatic, and that it’s time you start letting go and start thinking about your future. maybe she was right, but you weren’t having it. 

you sit at your desk that’s placed by your window. it overlooks your front yard and you can see all the people that walk by throughout the day. some wearing masks, some not. many move away from the people they see walking towards their direction in silent fear, but they still said a polite hello to not seem too rude.

the time on your phone reads 1:18 AM in little white lettering. you and yoongi had been on the phone with each other since 11, and the call showed no signs of ending any time soon. these nighttime calls with yoongi were a regular occurrence now that the two of you can’t see one another every day at school. the two of you live only about a 10 minute walk away from each other, but your parents were so caught up in the news that they wouldn’t let you leave. so facetime calls would have to suffice until this all blows over.

you’re drawing little doodles on your notepad while you and yoongi talk about miscellaneous things. you look out of your window briefly and notice a lone duck waddling it’s way into your yard. he wanders for a couple minutes while you and yoongi continue talking. you watch him for a minute and then go back to your doodles.

“don’t even get me started on mrs.jung, i can pull up her mugshot at any moment so she better watch how much work she gives us” yoongi babbles. you had accidentally brought up the sore subject of the teacher, knowing how much she gets on yoongis nerves. sometimes you’ll do it just to watch get mad. what can you say, its cute.

“wait she really got arrested? i just thought that was a rumor”

“yea, it happened in like 2013 i thi-”

HONK HONK HONK HONK

your head shoots up, spotting the duck running around your yard and honking like the world was going to end. 

“what the fuck is that?” he asks, looking at your equally as confused expression through the phone screen. you groan loudly, but for some reason the obnoxious honking triggers a memory, and you start smiling a little. yoongi, still very confused, speaks up.

“can you like, not do that? it’s creepy” yoongi said, slightly disgusted by your sudden change in behavior.

“do you remember that one time jungkook was drunk off his ass and he could stop telling us facts about canadian geese?” you beamed, looking at yoongi through your camera. the memory brings a smile onto his face too.

“oh my god... i do. and hoseok was really freaked out because jungkook has never even left the country” yoongi hummed, the both of you now grinning like idiots.

this leads you into a rabbit holes of funny moments that had happened in your friend group.

like the one time you, taehyung, and namjoon had spent 20 minutes painting jesus’ ass to perfection in art history class and then realized you only had 10 minutes to finish the actual assignment but ended up just turning in the ass anyway

like the one time jungkook found one of your head bands on your bedroom floor and put it on like a tube top, then proceeded to prance around your house chanting california girls by katy perry

like the one time your class had taken a trip to washington d.c. and had gotten a chance to attend the changing of the guard ceremony at arlington cemetery, but when all of you got there, namjoon forgot to put his phone on silent so his ringtone started blaring during the what was supposed to be quiete ceremony

the laughter that had been coming from the both of you had finally calmed down and the two of you caught your breath. the both of you still had large smiles on your faces.

“i can’t believe i’m about to say this, but i actually think i’m gonna miss high school” you sigh, looking down at your floor. 

“yea... i mean we’re still going to see each other though. we’re literally going to the same college (y/n)” yoongi chuckles, wanting to tease you but he holds back, because he feels the exact same way. 

“oh shit” yoongi whispers.

“what?”

“it’s 3 in the morning”

you look at the time and yoongi is in fact correct. the numbers read a bright 3:07 AM and you grimace at the thought of having to get up tomorrow.

“well i think it’s time that i hit the hay. i recommend you do the same, (y/n), would hate to see bags under your eyes tomorrow” yoongi joked, and if he were right in front of you, you would’ve flicked him on his forehead.

“shut up! i’ll talk to you tomorrow?” you ask hopefully. and he confirms with an echoed tomorrow.

you throw yourself onto your bed and start looking at old pictures in your camera roll. you miss your friends, and you would give anything to just be in the same room with them again. 

you begin gathering all sorts of photos into a file. the folder consists of any and every stupid memory and greatest accomplishment that the eight of you shared throughout your four years of high school. you share it with them and finally shut your eyes, dreaming about seeing your best friends again.

when yoongi wakes up the next morning he sees the notification from the photo album you humorously titled ‘senior year, but make it infected.’ he chuckles at your amateur attempt to be funny

“what a fuckin’ sap”

[serialreblogger]

like okay. we’re already starting from some deeply fucked up premises

waylon jones is born with a Real Actual Disorder that human beings actually have, in real life, which - depending on your source - is either an unspecified subset of the family of diseases known as ichthyoses, or the specific (REAL) disorder called epidermolytic hyperkeratosis

this is basically when the organ we call “skin” doesn’t work properly for a person. children with it suffer from constant full-body rashes and severe blistering that dies down a bit towards adulthood, in favour of thick layers of skin that typically show up primarily around your joints and palms/soles of your feet (i’m guessing these layers are related to callus formation in “normal” skin tissue? but i’m not an expert)

it is a chronically painful condition, and one that makes you much more susceptible to infections, because your skin isn’t as good at doing its primary job (keeping germs out) when it’s constantly blistering and running damage control. the thicker skin sections can also accumulate bacteria that tends to cause a specific odor. you know what it doesn’t do? turn you into a fucking crocodile.

in sum: it’s a real, lifelong, painful condition to live with, and in the context of how we currently treat people with skin disorders (and anything about their body we think of as “unappealing”), it can also be humiliating to have EH or any type of ichthyosis when you’re faced with ableism in your community (which is, of course, at pretty much every turn), especially with little to no popular representation of disorders like yours.

it’s also the premise of “killer croc’s” villain origin story.

what the fuck, dc.

and they only PILE IT ON from there

waylon jones was abandoned by his father for being a disabled infant. his mom died in childbirth, so he was raised by his alcoholic aunt, who was abusive, and was ostracized & harassed by most of the other members of his community (“as a teenager, Waylon had no friends” what the fuck, dc)

he spent most of his childhood dropping in and out of the local juvie (or “reform school,” depending on what continuity you count from) before getting convicted as an adult literally as soon as the authorities could get away with it (18th birthday or early conviction at 16, again, depending on who you ask).

he then spent “eighteen years behind bars” before getting turned out on parole and did some time as a circus sideshow.

this kid allegedly assaulted someone who’d been canonically making his life hell, spent 18 years behind bars, and STILL doesn’t jump straight into crime, but his best option for Gainful Employment is joining the circus. dc why do you love the circus. is it because you hate me personally

anyway after doing that for a while he’s finally quoted as realizing that “I had the strength, I had the hate—why shouldn't I USE it to get what I wanted? ‘Killer Croc,’ that's what they called me. But some day, SOMEDAY, I knew they'd call me KING!”

like. what the fuck, dc.

(bruce “my parents both died” sob story could never)

and then! it ONLY GETS WORSE!

waylon spends some time building a name for himself as a crime lord, does some murder, becomes an expert at underworld politics, u know how it goes we’ve all been there. but apparently he caught batman’s attention in the process, because it wasn’t long before he came home to find the lurking lump of emo in his favourite chair.

imma be real with y’all, this is the point where i genuinely got my heart broken on this dude’s behalf. because. this is obviously supposed to be Evidence Of His Madness or Evolutionary Inferiority or what fucking ever, but like – my dude this is just a CPTSD trauma response and/or general neurodivergent Relatable Content, it’s loud and embarrassing but that’s what emotional agony is like sometimes and - like -

like he’s quoted as screaming this at batman:

“this was MY place, my SPECIAL place! Built this place—my HOME—nobody could call me a freak HERE! But you've SPOILED it—YOU RUINED IT!”

dc. dc i know you know what i’m gonna say but. what the fu

...this is literally just a guy though, trying to SURVIVE in the hell world batman is supposed to be trying to fix? like obviously he’s not a Morally Upright person but fuck, dude, that shouldn’t matter. you don’t fight systemic oppression because the people victimized by it are all constantly saints. you don’t fight systemic oppression because the people victimized by it are necessarily “good people” in your estimation at all. you fight it because it’s fucked up, my dude. you fight it so that people like waylon jones don’t get abandoned as kids and brought up in prison in the fucking first place, you fight it because this system is what made 90% of your goddamn “villains” and if this is who your hero is fighting then who’s fighting the people who eradicated his options in the goddamn first place

anyway.

so after batman beat him up waylon got sent to arkham asylum, and in the original canon this did in fact involve electroshock treatment. why? who the fuck knows. i do it’s because he had a physical deformity and insane asylums were (or are, in batman canon) where you put the “monsters unfit for human contact” so you don’t have to see them and the cruellest members of the ruling class can use them for whatever fun experiments they feel like trying out. side note but jeremiah arkham has always been a villain and personally i will never forgive “canon” batman for treating him like anything else

in the og comics the next time waylon broke out of arkham batman dosed him with a nerve gas intended to permanently paralyze him from the neck down. the only reason it didn’t do so is because comics medicine says his skin disorder protects him. i am begging dc to stop

fast forward through some more arkham details (long-term solitary confinement, more electrocution, u know the usual); waylon eventually escapes during one of the regularly scheduled mass breakouts and holes up with a little homeless family in the sewers, until he gets nearly drowned in a flash flood caused by city expansion of the water lines. he’s presumed dead for a while and comic book brain damaged from oxygen deprivation or whatever (dc i am BEGGING) until a gaggle of humans spot him in an alley and call him a “monster” which funnily enough is a trauma trigger for the man. heaven knows why. then he goes on a murder spree because comics reasons; after that he gets mystically summoned to chill in a swamp for a while with a physically abusive swamp god, gets sick of being whaled on by a swamp god and returns to gotham’s sewer system to briefly bond with man-bat before getting kidnapped & imprisoned again (by wolverine, since apparently marvel and dc collaborated to ruin waylon jones’ life. dc, what the f u c k) and then stolen & forced into aNother circus sideshow. this one tortured him into going on murder sprees. eventually gets returned to arkham, where they drug him with sedatives until the joker sneaks into their pharmacy and puts him on daily amphetamines instead. the next jailbreak set him on course to regaining his original Average Joe Mob Boss status, until the villain “Hush” infected him with a virus that caused him to “evolutionarily regress” by becoming more crocodile-like and taking a(NOTHER) toll on his brain function, because GOD forbid he catch a break

y’all this guy’s life story is so fuckin cruel it’s not even funny. starting a new petition it’s just called “justice for king croc” and the only thing in the description is this

dc i’m coming for you

JEEZ i know most of us are well versed in the “death of the author” approach to DC canon (as we should be) but i cannot fucking stop thinking about “killer croc.” how do you write that character and still walk away thinking batman is a hero. what the fuck kind of privilege are comics authors even on and can i buy some because it seems pretty mind-bending to me