#and rock from other countries is normal in those countries | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsphoenix0724 · 4 months ago

Text

Save A Horse (Cassian x Reader)

Summary: After a long hard day of work all Cas wants is a cold beer and a pretty girl.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT, sexual language about women's bodies

A/N: I love a good cowboy au, and I feel like my boy Cas fits that vibe the best. I'm sorry I've been MIA, but I'm trying to get back into it I promise. Thank you all for your patience. Much love <3

Cassian takes off his hat as he walks into the bar, hair slicked back against his forehead after a long day in the sun. He appreciates the job Rhys’s father offers him, but he puts him through the wringer every day from sun up to sun down. Friday nights at Rita’s are always packed, and tonight is no exception, especially with the new addition of the mechanical bull. Cassian only has to step up to the bar and a beer is already set in front of him. He takes a sip, letting the drink cool him from the inside out before he turns to survey the dance floor. It’s packed with girls square dancing and some just drunkenly bumping and grinding with the person closest to them. He looks out across the floor watching the buckle bunnies saunter up to every available ranch hand they set their eyes on. Nights like these are some of his favorites, he just lets the girls flock to him so he can take his pick of the litter to get lost in for the night.

That’s when he sees you, red cowboy boots in all your glory on the back of that mechanical bull.

The bull is supposed to be impossible to stay on, he knows because he laughed about it with Rita on the first night she had it installed. Rhys, Az, and himself had spent the entire night watching people get thrown into the inflatable pit around it, laughing so hard they almost tipped their barstools.

But you were staying on the bull, and Cas is absolutely entranced. Your hips rock back and forth with the bull's motion, countering every single buck and jerk the machine used to try to throw you. You even had the balls to take one hand off the reigns and Cassian almost fell to his knees right there when you flipped yourself around and started to ride it backward. His eyes wander down to the tight denim of your cut-off shorts, your ass looks good enough for him to bite.

Every single eye in the bar is fixed on you because no one has ever stayed on the bull this long.

The machine starts to slow down, the rocking of your hips becoming more sensual as you begin to follow the beat of the country song blasting across the speakers. Everyone watches with rapt attention as the bull finally stops, before erupting into cheers that shake the very foundation of the building. You dismount, bowing with a flourish as you return to your group of friends. Most of the guys in the bar are approaching you, but Cassian is already tucking his hat back on and barreling over. Any other guy who had thought he stood a chance backed off just as quickly when Cassian sent them a glare that could level mountains.

He didn’t care what anyone said, he had to have you tonight, tonight you were his and his alone.

“That was incredible.” Cassian rumbles, coming up behind you, a quick wink and smile from him sends your friends fluttering across the dance floor laughing behind their hands.

“Well thank you,” you drawl, red lips pulling back into a feline grin. “And you are?” one of your eyebrows cocks, eyes lazily trailing up and down his form.

“Cassian Prince,” he tips his hat and watches as you smirk, “and can I have your name or should I just call you Beautiful?” you laugh incredulously, before rolling your eyes. Cassian’s confidence wavers for a second, that line normally works, but he presses on. “Can I buy you a drink?” You hum in contemplation, making a good show of tipping your head in thought.

“No thanks, maybe next time Cowboy.” You pat him on the shoulder before sauntering away from him and disappearing back into the crowd. Cassian watches those red boots walk away dumbfounded, but sulks back to his spot against the bar.

Cassian drinks until closing time, eyes still prowling the crowd but dissatisfied with every potential prospect. Nothing compared to the rush you gave him when you were on that bull.

Rita’s is emptying, and Cas knocks back another shot of whiskey as Rita cleans the glasses for the night. On the nights he doesn’t go home with someone he usually stays to ensure she gets to her car okay even though he doesn’t think that anyone in this town would be dumb enough to try anything with Rita.

“Hey Jackass, leave me the hell alone!” It’s shouted across the bar in such alarm that it raises the hairs on the back of Cassian’s neck. He moves faster than his brain can keep up with, tipsy feet carrying him to the bar's back corner. Cas finds that the distressed voice he heard belongs to you, and you’re currently facing up with a guy about twice your height, eyes locked on him with a glare that could make the devil flinch.

“Come on baby, I saw you on that bull,”

The stranger is pretty big, but Cas still has a couple of inches on him.

“I think the lady said to leave her alone.” Cassian’s voice rumbles, deep and dark like a thunderstorm. Your eyes blaze with lightning in return. The stranger turns and shoves Cassian on the shoulder, his adrenaline spikes, the song in his blood finally happy for a fight. His fist clenches and before he can blink it slams into the stranger's face. Cassian looks at you again as you freeze in shock, the stranger knocked out cold on the floor between your feet.

“HEY!” Rita’s voice screams across the bar, “Enough! Cassian get cleaned up, I’ll handle this.” She waves a disgusted at the man collapsed on the ground and you silently grab Cas’s hand to lead him into the bar’s tiny bathroom.

The two of you share the space across the sink, you run his hand under cold water before gently dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles with a paper towel.

“You know,” you start, a teasing lilt to your voice “no one’s ever punched a guy out for me before.”

“It’s not gentlemanly to disrespect women” Cassian rumbles eyes watching the way your hands curl around the callous skin of his palm. Maybe it’s the leftover adrenaline from the punch he threw, but the only thing he can think of is that your skin is so soft, hands unburdened by the roughness of labor. You lift your head and Cas can feel the ghost of your exhale skate across his lips. He doesn’t know who leans in first, but your lips taste like the limes and salt used for tequila shots.

He tries his best to chase the hidden burn as your tongue traces over the seam of his lips.

You’re surprisingly dominant in the way your tongue traces over his with a sensuality Cassian thinks runs in your blood. Cas lets himself be pulled in like a ship out in the ocean, flowing and bellowing with the tide that is your kiss. Those damned hands start undoing the buttons on his flannel, but he doesn’t let you get too far. “We should get out of here,” he heaves, your chests rising and falling to the same beat, he leads you with a hand to the small of your back out of the bar over to his truck. Cassian opens the door to the driver's seat and lifts you onto the seat before his mouth meets yours again.

Your hands feel like wildfire as they trace down the hard muscles of his back, his trail sends lightning strikes down the curve of your thighs.

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt again, and Cassian can feel himself getting harder every time one gets undone. His flannel drifts down to the asphalt that covers the parking lot and your hands against his bare chest might be the closest thing to heaven he’ll ever get. His lips bite dark marks into the curve of your neck, and the moan you release bounces off the curve of the windshield and comes back to rattle his bones. Your hands try to fond Cas’s hair but they run into the wide brim of his hat. The two of you pull apart and the fire in your eyes makes his old jeans get tighter. Your red lipstick is smeared but smile no less wild as you take off his hat and place it onto your head, as triumphant as a queen with a crown.

“Do you know what that means?” the low timbre of Cassian’s voice sounds more animal than human, his pupils blown wide as his eyes try to swallow you whole. With a laugh, you tip his hat at him and Cas drops to his knees this time. He makes quick work of the belt holding your shorts up, popping the buckle, and sliding the denim down your legs until they hit the concrete below the truck with a metallic thud. He devours you quickly, wasting no time to delve his tongue between your thighs. Your head tosses back with a moan as you begin to grind against his face with the same ferocity that you used to ride the bull earlier. Cassian slips a finger inside of you and lets out a loud groan at the feeling of you clenching around him, he can barely wait to get inside you. You finally release with a broken cry and collapse against his truck's old leather bench seat. You sit up on your elbows, chest heaving up and down with hungry eyes, and Cassian claims your mouth again. Large broad hands drag up your jaw and into your hair, scraping with such delight you almost purr like a cat. Your hands practically rip his belt open, his hips bucking into your hand when you rub hard against his length. Eagerly, you pull Cas into the truck after you and he barely manages to pull the door shut behind you. He kisses his way down your body, worshiping every inch and curve he finds before making his way back up. Lining himself up he pushes himself into you. Your hands claw down his back with a wild ferocity and Cassian loves the bite your fingernails leave. He gives you a few minutes to adjust to him, but when you start squirming underneath him and running your tongue along the shell of his ear, he snaps. He fucks into you with pure abandon, white-hot pleasure shooting between the both of you like a live wire. However, you–like everything else you’ve done tonight, continue to surprise him. You flip Cas over in the seats and ride him until his eyes almost roll back into his head. He never wants to leave this truck, the efforts of your passions fogging up the windows. You tumble over the edge walls squeezing him in a vice grip, and he’s almost embarrassed by it, but with a broken whimper, Cassian manages to lift you off of him and finish all over your stomach. You collapse against his chest, leaving red trailed kisses along the length of his jugular. After recovering, you retrieve your shorts from the ground, pulling them back up your thighs Cas watches with his eyes half-lidded in orgasmic bliss. He tracks the movement of your finger as you wipe away the smeared lipstick from the corners of your mouth.

“I’ll see you around cowboy.” Your sultry voice echoes out, reigniting the problem in Cassian’s pants when you swing the door to his truck shut and he watches your hips sway as you walk to your own car.

Cassian has to sit in his truck for another fifteen minutes to recover and its when he runs his hands through his tousled hair that he realizes one thing.

You’ve walked off with his hat.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #cassian acotar #acotar au #cassian imagine #cassian x reader #cassian au #cassian x you

272 notes · View notes

bisexual-biohazard5 · 1 month ago

Text

Percy Weasley HC: Music

When I see headcannons about Percy Weasley, some of them are about his music taste which normally head cannoned as jazz or classical music which I understand because it fits his vibe. But I love the idea of a smart, nerdy looking perfect prefect Percy listening to Riot Grrl. (For those who don't know, riot grrl is like femal metal that talks about sexism, misogny and is about feminism. It also occurs during 1970s to 1990s so it makes sense historically as well.)

Percy is an intelligent person so he should be able to see that sexism and misogny is wrong and that the sterotypes about genders are incorrect. (Feminist Percy Weasley is my life.)

So one day he listening to the radio at the burrow which no one else is really paying attention to and hears it for the first time and instantly gets obsessed. He wants to help the women and is inspired by the music which could tie into his obsession with the ministry because he wants to fix the corruption and sexism in the country. It's one of the reasons he wanted to be Minister of Magic so he could try and help end sexism and gender sterotypes.

Also he 100% had a Walkman cassette tape. It was made in 1979 and was actually really popular. Riot Grrl surfaced in 1970s to 1990s so it just makes sense to me that Percy would have a walkman and listen to female rock. Oh and his favouite bands are The Slits and Bikini Kill. His favourite songs are 'New Radio' and 'Rebel Girl'.

(And imaging sweet prefect perfect Percy Weasley who no one has ever seen do a wrong thing, listening to Riot Grrl and singing along to the lyrics, yes, even the swears, is funny to me and I hold this hc close to my heart. And did I spend 30 minutes researching so it all makes sense with the production of the Walkman and when the bands were formed? Yes. Yes I did. Do I regret it? absolutely not.)

(Oh and Oliver 100% found him singing vulgar lyrics and fell for him even more. Also Oliver would be opposite and listen to Jazz and classical because I love couples that have interests that are like the complete opposite to what their vibe is or what other people think and it's unpredictable and no one would believe it until they saw it themselves. While Percy has a walkman, Oliver would have collections of vinyls just like in Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. Whenever the gryffindors in the common room hear just heavy metal from their dorm, they assume it's Oliver when it's actually Percy.)

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Here is my conclusion Clears throat

#Percy Weasley Defense squad #Perciver

Audience cheers and applaudes.

#percy weasley #head cannons #music #riot grrrl #harry potter #Percy Weasley Head cannon #Bikini Kill #The Slits #Walkman Casette tape #Feminism #I love Percy Weasley #Perciver #percy weasley x oliver wood #music headcanons #hp shitpost

107 notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 1 month ago

Text

*~Toddler Chronicles-3rd Years PT.1~*

A/N: I have no excuses. I've just been hoarding my writing and trying to stack finished stories and post them out when I have depressive episodes—just to make sure I have something for you all! So anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy this part. The series is going to be so full of cute baby shenanigans that you'll have a toothache. Thank you again to @bun-lapin for letting me use their wonderful OCs! They are so fun to chew on... Word Count: 6.3K Pairings: Alluded Ruggie/Leona Warnings: Needles, Children, Me typing out a country accent, Google translate french

Starter, Pt 1

Ruggie had only felt fear so strongly he could taste it twice in his life. The first was when he was five and awoke in his hut with his grandma nowhere in sight. The second was when he was twelve and a drunk man had gripped at his arm to the point it bruised him for days.

And now he can say he's tasted fear three times. The third being he realized the second prince of the Savanna had been turned into a four-year-old and was missing. Anyone left in Savanaclaw that weekend morning was out and searching, using every nose and ear in the dorm to hunt down their missing leader.

Ruggie had to stop after an hour, his panicked breathing pulling in the scent of his search party more than the sandy flora he was looking for. He stood to the side, his head in his hands while his thoughts raced on what could have befallen the defenseless toddler that a pack couldn't find him.

“Ruggie!”

He looks up, not even trying to hide the tears pooling in his eyes. A rhino beastman, a third-year who heard Leona was missing and the pure distress in Ruggie’s voice quickly helped mobilize the dorm, stood before him. He shook his head, “We've searched the gardens side to side, we've got teams combing the woods. The school and coliseum are next for the beta teams, but we haven’t found anything.”

Ruggie’s sigh was ragged, dropping his head back down to grip at his hair in frustration. Dropping to the ground in a squat as he started to rock in a self-soothing motion.

The third-year sighed along with him, folding his arms as he looked out to the campus, “The ‘Emergency Protocol’ for a lost member is normally Rook…but you said he was four, too, right?”

“Yeah…”

“...” He tilted his head, a questioning sneer showing his teeth, “Why are they four?”

“If I fucking knew, do you think I would be five steps away from a heart attack?”

“Okay…geeze…” The third-year turns around hearing someone call his name. With a nod to them, he turns back to Ruggie, “Cool your head. You know Leona best and you're in charge when he's not available. If anyone could figure out where he went it'll be you.”

As the other beastman left, Ruggie was left to calm himself. Once he could breathe without the laborious tug of his own nerves, he really thought. Leona had very key areas he went to, all secluded away from others as he was always more comfortable alone. But those areas were also easily accessible, a factor that the possibly scared four-year-old no doubt didn't care for.

Away from others, carefully hidden, familiar…

Ruggie’s eyes snapped open, jumping from his position and bolting back to the empty dorm. His hands braced against one of the open-air window sills, hopping through it with ease as he sprinted into the faux savanna their dorm resided in.

In his first year, before they had started their situationship deal, Ruggie remembers waking up in the middle of the night. Nothing serious, just thirsty, so he left his room. But on his way to the kitchen, he saw Leona outside of the dorm's walls and walking into the fields of scattered vegetation and rocks. Ruggie never asked where he was going, but that memory was enough to tell him Leona had more places to hide than he thought.

Tracking Leona became almost laughably easy once he was far enough from the dorm, after a while the only smell was Leona in the magically sterile lands. A scent he followed to a small cave, the opening semi-hidden from view by a large rock resting in front of the opening and the amount of weeds growing from the top. Brushing the strands of grass aside he bit his tongue to hold in the urge to bark out laughs at the scene before him.

It was a pretty sweet setup, by Ruggie’s standards. A large rug had been laid out on the ground, softening the area while also keeping the dirt trapped underneath it. There was a low table at the center of space, the remnants of a quick meal by way of multiple snack wrappers and an empty juice bottle. But the best thing was the ‘bed’. A pile of old blankets and pillows all pressed into the corner, a tiny mass with reddish brown hair swimming in a daishiki resting on it. As always, Leona slept with his back to the entrance, laying in a curled up ball with his tail laid out behind him.

Ruggie stepped into the area as slowly as he could. Yeah, Leona was four, but he was still Leona. And Ruggie did not want to see what the potentially scared toddler could do to him in an enclosed space. He couldn't stop the swear he mutters, seeing a single tiny ear suddenly flick around and point toward him. He sunk to his knees, hands held up in a motion of surrender as Leona slowly woke up, “Hey…hey there, bud. You ok?”

The kid turned, a big green eye full of distrust peering at Ruggie as if daring him to move. Before long Leona had moved to fully face Ruggie, sniffing the air a few times before narrowing his eyes and wrinkling his nose, “You smell like the sheets in that room…”

Nodding, Ruggie tries to walk on his knees, one step for every few seconds to not startle the toddler, “Yeah. I do your laundry, it smells like me sometimes. I'm Ruggie, I…I take care of you here.”

Leona did not look pleased in the slightest that Ruggie was getting closer, but made no move past the adorable sneer, “Where's here? If you're trying to get money you picked the wrong kid.”

Ruggie didn't know if that was the inkling of something terribly sad or if Leona was actively threatening him and he didn't care to find out. He chuckles, one-half hobble of a step makeing Leona tense up, his poker face pinching together as he struggles to hold it together. Ruggie takes two knee steps back.

“I'm not dangerous. Hell, I think you'd wipe the floor with me anyway. I haven't had breakfast yet.”

Leona eased, his face slowly morphing into a pout and placing his tiny hands onto his stomach as he looked to the side, “I haven't either…”

Ruggie chuckles, eyes looking to the table and the empty wrappers, “You haven't?” He snorts at the little growl of a huff Leona lets out. He turns back to the kid, his smile turning soft as he held a hand out, “How about we get out of here and I make you some food? You can call Kipaji and we can go from there…”

“Kifaji…?”

Name dropping the aid was the right move, Leona's eyes lighting up at the familiar name before he schools his expression again. He wrings the edge of the now oversized sleep shirt in a show of nervousness. Sniffing the air, Leona wasn't able to smell anything pointing toward malice from the hyena. If anything it calmed him in a sense, the scent of something sweet with the earthy smell of dandelions, the same smell clinging to the fibers of the room he woke up in.

Ruggie kept his hand outstretched, breathing in relief when Leona finally walked closer and grabbed at his fingers with both of his hands. the sophomore stands, his scrawny hand wrapping securely around one of Leona's, “Let's get you a good meal then. You're so tiny; I gotta make sure you're well-fed!”

Leona pouts, following as the older boy guides them out of the little sanctuary, “I'm not that small for my age…”

Epel sighed, placing two plates down in front of the toddlers, “Here. Some nice and filling breakfast. Y'all want somethin’ to drink?”

Vil looked up, the long sleeves of his button-up pajamas neatly cuffed to allow his hands to be free of the fabric. He tilted his head, purple eyes curious, “You talk weird…Can I have peach juice?” he looked to his plate, smiling as he took notice of the gold swirls along the rim.

“...” Epel sighed, quirking his lip as he rolled his eyes. He couldn't smack the little bugger across the back of his head, he was four, he was going to say whatever was on his mind.

While Vil started to eat his breakfast, buttered toast and cut-up fruit just as he had requested, Rook was pouting, poking at his food in mild confusion.

“Rook?” The child snaps up, looking to Epel at the sound of his name, “Ya okay bud? Do ya not like ya food?”

“...” Rook pouted, eyebrows pinching together before he turned to Vil. He patted Vil on his shoulder, calling him to lean closer to whisper into his ear.

Vil hummed, nodding and swallowing his food before looking at Epel, “You got his food wrong.”

“Ah…how!?” Epel gestured to the bell pepper omelet on Rook's plate, “You said he wanted eggs and bell pepper! Did he want them raw!?”

“Don't yell at me!” Vil huffed, his tiny nose scrunched up as he slapped his hand to the table, “He told me you made it weird. You're the big kid, you should know what little kids need.”

Epel rolled his eyes so hard he nearly fell. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down before speaking to Rook, “What's wrong with it? What'd ah get wrong?”

Rook only looked at him confused, blinking a few times before mumbling a few words to Vil. The other blonde perked up again, swallowing his food before he responded in stilted Florian. Epel watched the back and forth, eyes following and wondering why…they were speaking in the other other language…

Vil nodded after a while, turning to Epel, “You made it wrong.”

“What did ah make wrong?” How could such a cute kid be so annoying in this small amount of time?

Sighing, Vil gestured to the omelet on Rook's plate, the other child finally picking at the food to eat it in tiny bites, “His food! You made it wrong!”

Epel gestured to the plate almost in a hysterical fashion, “Ya said he wanted eggs and peppers!?”

The pout Vil pulls is cute, Epel can't lie. But the glare he gave him was all too familiar to the disapproving stare of his 18-year-old self, “That's what he said he wanted! That…Rook, qu'est-ce que tu voulais?” *

“Shakshuka! Mon papa le fait pour moi, mon frère et ma sœur. Il n'y a pas des tomates…”

Nodding, Vil passed over a few chunks of his fruit medley to Rook, turning to glare at Epel, “You forgot the tomatoes.”

Sighing once again, Epel braced against the table and leaned closer to Rook, “Lil guy, ‘ou're gonna need to communicate with me. What is Shakshuka?”

Rook blinked his two big green eyes, tilting his to side as he gave Epel a look of pure confusion.

Vil leaned past Rook, cupping his mouth with both hands to loudly whisper, “I don't think he knows Common yet…”

“...”

Oh, that…that was bad. Epel forgot that Rook was one of the younger third-years; most kids didn't start learning the worldly language of Common until they were around four or prepping to enter the school system. He could make the assumption that the other third-years had at least started their introductory lessons, allowing the school's translation charm to be properly activated for them still.

Epel looked to Vil, trying to keep himself from looking concerned, “Wait, why? He should at least know a few words by now?”

Another brief conversation in Florian between the toddlers, Vil turning to Epel, “He said his mommy said he wasn't getting lessons until he was five.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Epel breathed out. A new annoyance to this pile of nonsense that has become his school life.

Crewel sighed, leaned over his desk as though it was the only thing keeping him up. brushing his hair from his eyes he looked at the group of students and toddlers gathered in his homeroom. The toddlers all dressed in makeshift clothing of oversized shirts, socks, and magically resized shoes.

Riddle stood behind his two turned juniors, eyes watching them like a hawk. His gray pupils moving back and forth to make sure neither child was acting out. A helicopter guardian move that proved unnecessary since both children were sharing a chair and crowded against each other, looking with wide eyes at whatever was on Cater’s phone.

Ruggie stood still with a blank expression, for a second Crewel had feared that the Savanaclaw students hadn't managed to find Leona. Only to see tiny hands creep from behind Ruggie’s head to tug at the corners of his mouth. An equally tiny face peeking from Ruggie’s shoulder and demanding to know when he was going to be fed again.

Epel sat in a chair, eyes glaring straight ahead in purely concealed annoyance. In his lap was Vil, the toddler quietly whispering in a harsh tone as he held and picked at Epel's nails. Clearly scolding him for having dirt under his nails and the small nicks on his fingers. In contrast, Rook was comfortably seated on Epel's shoulders. The other child smiling and having fun messing with the freshman’s hair by running his hands through it and trying to pull it into pigtails.

Ortho was the calmest, Idia practically swimming in his standard hoodie from Ortho's arms. The junior's long hair had shortened dramatically, now a fluffy halo of blue flames compared to the tail it was before. He sat curled into Ortho's arms, his mouth covered by his hoodie sleeve as he nervously glanced around the room and chewed on the fabric.

The most contrasted pair were Malleus and Lilia. While Mallues stood on the ground, holding onto a folded over Sebek's hand and calm, Lilia…

Silver held the still hissing and yowling child by the arms and as far away from his body as possible. The long-haired bat fae was kicking and squirming, nearly fighting for his life to escape Silver's hold. Though from how he kept angling his head and biting into the fabric of the shirt, Crewel could only think it was also a demand to be freed from the prison called clothing.

Crewel groans, covering his face with both his hands. Soon Hui-Yan enters the room, looking annoyed as she tips her head toward Crewel in greeting, “I’ve alerted the other teachers, no one else seems to be affected so I believe it was just this group affected…”

“Uh…” Ruggie reached up, Finally pulling Leona's hands off of his face and moving to hold the toddler to his front, “So…I know they have these meetings every now and again. I help Leona make stuff for them sometimes. That's most likely where they got spelled or dosed…”

Riddle hummed, eyes still locked on his unbothered charges, “A potion makes the most sense…it would explain the delayed reaction more than a spell-Cater, don’t you dare open that message!” He reaches down, pulling the phone away from Cater’s little hands and ignoring his and Trey’s whining.

“...” Crewel sighed again, reminding himself that he had a bottle of scotch calling his name once this whole event was settled, “What potion even does this…? Bucchi, do you have any idea how they could have dosed?”

“Leona was making a big fuss last night on Malleus fuc-” He nearly bit his tongue, closing his mouth as nearly everyone’s eyes snapped to him, basically daring him to finish his sentence, “...He said Malleus messed up the drink mix he brought and it tasted bad…”

Silver sighed, trying his best to rework his hold on Lilia as the child managed to wiggle one of his arms free from his hand, “I remember…Kalim came over a day or so ago with various syrups and sodas…Malleus just said they were mixing things for fun but it must have been for this meeting- Ow.” He groaned frowning at the growling child digging his fangs into his hand, “Please, stop biting me…”

“I don’t think Kalim al Asim would bring anything that contained magical properties. So that leaves the Scarabia and the Diasomnia dorm as the prime location for a third-party to slip something into the beverage.” Ortho nodded at his reasoning, giving his brother a worried glance, “My most present concern is what could have done this. It was strong enough to effect full-blooded fae but weak enough to humans to ‘deage’ them both to the same age.”

“...No?” Sebek spoke quietly, eyes glancing between Malleus in his arms and Lilia wrapped around Silver's arm and biting into his wrist, “They're…they're not. Waka-sama! Do you know how old you are?”

Malleus had only jumped a bit at the sudden volume increase that was Sebek’s voice before calming back down, “I'm forty…”

“...”

Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose, counting back in his head to calm his rising blood pressure. He grabbed his phone with one hand, texting Oster as he searched in his other coat pocket, “I’ll need to do some tests to determine what’s in their systems. Not to mention just making sure it’s not actively hurting them…”

Epel spoke up, Vil moving from his hands to poking and pulling at his face claiming he was going to get wrinkles if he kept glaring, “How are you gonna test it?”

“Blood sample.” Crewel then pulled what they could only conceive as the biggest-looking syringe any of them had ever seen. Silver and Sebek both only seeing one of such style in the valley since it seemed more modern needles weren’t so…comically terrifying.

…

Every child once in a relative calm had started to sob the second the syringe was brought out, each wailing and struggling to escape the room or their guardians' hold once they realized they were going to be stuck with the insanely scary needle.

Silver was fighting to keep Lilia from kicking him in the throat in his efforts to break free of his hold. Sebek wasn’t any better as Malleus whimpered and whined, the lights flickering the more distressed he became as the clouds darkened outside. Ruggie had Leona on his head, the child hissing and trying to tug Ruggie by the ears to demand he turn around to leave the room. Epel and Riddle had it the worst. Both of the smaller boys tried to strong-arm two wailing toddlers from flinging themselves to the ground.

Riddle yells, face red both from overexertion and rage, “Why do you have a sterile syringe in your coat pocket!?”

“Don’t you bark at me, Rosehearts! I’ll keep what I need to deal with you lot of rowdy puppies!” The teacher groaned, the sound of wailing children something he had no desire to ever hear.

Hui-Yan was no better as the woman stood almost frozen beside him with her eyes jumping from one crying kid to the other. She leaned over, eyes glancing to Crewel’s phone to see what he had texted the other science teacher, “Is Oster bringing more syringes or are you going to draw from each of them?”

“... I'm not using the same needle on all of them Hui-Yan.”

“Okay.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I just assumed that’s what you’d do.”

“Why-”

“Um!”

Crewel and Hui-Yan look in surprise. The voice was squeakier but Idia was clearly the child to speak out. He was making direct eye contact, pulling his face from his sleeve and nodding his head.

“I can go first! To show them it’s not scary.”

“O-oh…Thank you, Idia…?” Both teachers glanced at each other, almost asking if they had heard the same thing. Idia as an 18-year-old was not brave, loud, nor as considerate as his toddler counterpart. While very helpful, it was simply jarring…

Crewel pulled out his crop, starting to cast a few spells on the syringe in hand, “Another teacher is coming with more supplies so I can safely get a sample from each of you. You’ll get one of those needles since I have this one for Malleus or Lilia. Modern syringes are made from steel which, if you puppies have been doing your science homework, is a mixture of iron and carbon.” He held up the syringe again, eye twitching at the increased wailing of the children, “I have a few vintage syringes that are still functional that were made with silver. A few cleaning spells and they’ll be safe to use for the fae…”

Oster bursts in, a bag slung over her shoulder as she huffed and puffed, “I’ve come with the items!”

“Perfect timing. Please prep the baby Shroud to draw blood and prep yourself to potentially fight several children…” Crewel pulled out the single-use bags of syringes, looking each over before he started to prep the second vintage syringe.

Rook peaked from under Epel's arm, watching as Idia let Ortho and Oster maneuver his jacket around to show his arm. He whimpered louder, watching the teacher wipe at the other boy's arm with a cotton ball that stained his skin orange, “Vous ne savez pas ce qu'est un tir? Ils font mal et font peur!” **

Idia looked down, eyebrows creased together in confusion, “Wha…?”

Ortho hums, gaining Idia’s attention, “He’s speaking Florian.”

“Oh…” Idia turned back to Rook, shaking his head at the terrified child, “I don’t speak Florian…”

“Scary! He’s saying shots are scary!” Vil wailed, struggling and twisting his arm in Epel’s hold while Rook started to do the same with his other side.

“Oh…Well. I get shots a lot, so I’m used to them.” Idia gains a fearful expression seeing both Oster and Crewel give the needles a final check over, “Yeah, it feels like a pinch but then you get a sucker!”

Malleus stopped his whimpering, shyly peaking from a fretting Sebek’s shoulder. He sniffled, looking over to Idia, “What…what is a sucker?”

“...A sucker?” Idia responded, looking just as confused. How did anyone not know what a sucker was…?

Sebek spoke up, patting Malleus on the back in an effort to calm him more, “It’s a confection; like the honey drops given out at the spring festival! Once you have the test done, you will receive a sucker as your payment for your bravery!”

“...” Malleus looked over to Crewel, the man realizing he was being watched and stiffly held the syringe up. Turning back to Sebek, Malleus nodded his head in a determined manner, “...I want a honey drop…”

“I will ensure you have as many honeydrops as you can stomach, Waka-sama!”

Two of the eight children pacified by the promise of candy, Riddle and Epel took notice and decided it was their best bet.

Riddle managed to kneel down, almost being pulled over by the two struggling toddlers, “Trey, Cater, you can have sweets if you both allow the nice teacher to get a blood test-”

Trey all but wept, the fight slowly leaving him after nearly two minutes of tugging against Riddle’s grip, “I want my moooooooom…!”

Vil cried out, much angrier and still fighting to be released from under Epel’s arm, “I want my lawyer!”

It took another five or so minutes for every child to be calmed and pricked. Trey demanded to call his mother and father once he had his blood drawn and his sucker firm in hand. Cater completely rejected the idea of candy, pitching an even bigger fit at the idea he would be force-fed the sucker after he had his blood taken. Riddle had to promise not only on his life but his favorite color that Cater would be the one allowed to pick what they all had for lunch that day.

Vil had nearly screamed himself hoarse when Crewel approached him with the needle, completely falling into tears on the ground and forcing Epel to fully console the child. It took a promise of as much frozen yogurt as he wanted for dessert and to swear he hadn't been kidnapped by crazy fans of his father. The other blonde toddler had helped Epel explain to Rook that they needed to take a bit of blood to make sure he was healthy. Though he didn't look happy about it, he gained his sucker by holding Vil's hand and closing both of his eyes tight.

Malleus had allowed Oster to stick him with the needle, hiding in Sebek's shoulder and whimpering. The first-year nearly making the woman break the needle off under the toddler's skin, yelling at her that she had taken enough blood when the sample had barely reached the first measurement mark. Lilia fought tooth and nail, never having seen a syringe and thinking it to be a weapon of sorts. It took both Silver and Hui-Yan distracting the child with the promised bright green sucker, allowing Crewel to gather his sample the moment Lilia had let his guard down, barely moving away to avoid razor-sharp baby teeth.

Leona refused and no promise of candy nor food nor any activity Ruggie could think up was accepted. In the end it took Ruggie holding the little prince in a body lock with both his legs and an arm. His last appendage helping Oster by holding Leona's arm still as he hissed and yowled. Once released the first thing the prince did was turn around and lunge at Ruggie, biting down hard on the hyena’s ear and had yet to let go.

Idia had watched it all, comfortable and snug in Ortho's arms with his star-covered bandaid and already blue sucker-stained mouth, “Bunch of babies…”

A botched potion was the answer. From the trace of ingredients found, Crewel and Oster were able to conclude the original potion was a magic reduction syrup. A rare concoction, but commonly prescribed for younger children with high levels of magic and no proper training. A potion that Oster had started to make once she and Crewel realized the children would possibly need it, Malleus mostly…

The main deviation was the substitution of moon crystals for moon petals. An ingredient commonly found in high-quality beauty creams for rejuvenating purposes. Both Crewel and Oster recognizing it from their own beauty night creams. Not harmful, but, it did manage to turn the recipients four. Luckily the potion would only last for a week or so, two tops.

Crewel had tasked Hui-Yan to do what she did best, hunting down students. Someone had planned to potentially poison multiple students and it was an act that would not slide, even by Night Raven standards. But, until the culprits were caught, there wasn't much any of them could do but make sure their new tiny charges were comfortable.

With promise of properly sized clothing and other necessities to be delivered, everyone took their respective toddlers back to their dorms.

Riddle sighed, a pouting Cater holding onto two of his fingers and a still sniffling Trey clutched in his free arm. Walking back to Heartslabyul was a chore and his workload would only grow as the days went on. While aid would be coming in the form physical items, Cater and Trey were pillars of the dorm, emotional support for many a student and Riddle's closest aids. He was aware he'd lose them once they went off to their internships, but to have it happen only a few weeks into this repeat year was cruel. Even if it was only for at most two weeks, Ace and Deuce were not ready for the task of filling their juniors roles yet…

As he entered the dorm's lounge area, he made eye contact with Ace. The redhead freshman sitting on a couch opposite Deuce while the other muttered quietly.

“Wow…they're still four, huh? I would have thought Crewel-Sensei would give them something to make them older again…” Ace stood from his seat, walking closer and raising an eyebrow. Both at Trey whining into Riddle's shoulder and the foul little pout Cater was giving him, “What's their deals?”

“Shots. Suffice to say, neither were too happy about it…” While he was able to guide Cater toward Ace, the smaller redhand's pout lessening when he was picked up, Trey had simply refused to detach from Riddle.

Deuce smiled soft, poking at Trey's back, “Hey, lil guy. Nothing to be afraid of, we're all pretty familiar with each other when you're older.”

Trey merely shook his head, not moving from Riddle's shoulder.

Sighing, Riddle did his best to shuffle Trey in hopes of moving his weight in his quickly tiring arms, “It was a very emotional morning for everyone. Maybe a nap is in order for them, at least until lunch…”

Ace takes notice of Cater in his arms. At the mention of lunch, the toddler seemed to be on the verge of tears the longer Riddle spoke on sleeping arrangements instead of the actual meal time.He bounced the toddler lightly in his arms, gaining his attention before doing a stage whisper to gain everyone's attention, “Hey. Why are you so mad?”

Cater puffed his cheeks out, sending a glare over to Riddle before whispering back to Ace in a harsh tone, “He lied about letting me pick lunch. He didn't say I could pick…”

Ace gasped, looking toward a confused Riddle scandalized, “Housewarden! Shame on you! Did you promise Cater could pick lunch? And you go back on your word? Shame! Jail! Jail for one thousand years!”

Deuce turned to Riddle, frowning himself at the slight, “Rosehearts-senpai…”

“I-! Cater is still allowed to pick lunch!? I didn't say he wasn't? I only gave the opinion that they should have a nap beforehand. It was a very busy morning.”

Cater’s demeanor changed, his eyes widen in amazement and moving away from curling against Ace, “You mean it? I can still pick what's for lunch?”

Riddle softened, smiling at the clearly excited toddler, “Of course you can, Cater-CATER, DON'T JUMP!”

Calm had fled quickly, Cater managing to slip out of Ace's relaxed hold and hit the ground running. His little legs zooming him out of the room before any of them realized he was running.

Deuce was the first to sprint after the child, “Diamond-Senpai! Where are you going!?”

“To pick lunch!”

Ace and Riddle rushed after them both, Riddle still carrying Trey in his tired arms, “Cater, lunch isn't for hours!”

Cater demanded to pick lunch, only then would he even entertain the idea of a nap. So Riddle, Ace, and Deuce all walked along the kitchen. Following behind a far too excited toddler as he looked around the curvy space looking for something to eat.

Trey had finally calmed down, pulling himself from Riddle's shoulder to look around the kitchen himself. Luckily he was distracted enough for Riddle to hand him off to Deuce, finally giving his arms a break.

Riddle watched from a stool, Deuce carrying and holding Trey up to cabinets and various items of the kitchen for closer looks. Ace was following behind Cater, laughing whenever the child opened a cabinet below only to be greeted with pots and pans instead of the food he was expecting.

But soon, Cater found actual food in the cabinets he could reach. The redheaded toddler proudly presenting an unopened jar of tomato sauce to Riddle, “This! I want this for lunch!”

Riddle looked at the jar, knowing the sauce was healthy enough but…, “Just the sauce?”

“Yes.”

“No. You're not just eating sauce for lunch.”

“...” Cater’s face started to flush, tears welling up in his eyes before he started to stomp his feet, “No! You said! You said I could pick! You promised!”

“I did promise, but sauce isn't lunch. You need to pick something else.”

“Nooooooo!” Cater had fallen back onto his bottom, shaking his head and nearly throwing the glass jar to the ground in fury before Ace kneeled down. The now older redhead trying to both calm and reason with the child.

“H-hey. It's ok. We can find something other than sauce for lunch-”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Deuce had appeared, still holding Trey at an arms length while the toddler held out a box of dry spaghetti pasta. Trey shook the box, gaining Cater’s focus before he shook it again.

“We can have sauce and noodles! Then you can have a lot of sauce with them.”

“...” Cater seemed to weigh his options, casting a pout at Riddle who remained seated in his chair but was unable to look at the upset toddler for long, “I want a lot of sauce on my noodles…”

“...” Riddle knew they had some chicken in the fridge, Trey had wanted to try to teach a few dorm members proper breading techniques, “Yes. A pasta is a wonderful idea for lunch. You're both very smart boys. Cater’s sauce will help make the perfect food for lunch.”

The praise was more than enough to dry Cater’s tears, the toddler holding the jar tight in his hands as he smiled.

Ace, Deuce and Cater walked around the kitchen, both of the freshmen taking turns lifting the toddler to see into the upper cabinets. Riddle sighed, a weight settling into his chest. Children were…so emotionally fragile. A part of him feared this was another avenue of his life that his upbringing failed to prepare him for. Feeling a tug on the top of his boots, the housewarden looked down to Trey, the once content toddler now looking unsure and back on the verge of tears,

“Can I call my mom now? You promised…”

“...” Brief panic gripped his heart, a bead of sweat forming at his temple before he smiled at Trey, “S-sure. Just one moment…”

Riddle pulled out his phone, looking at the personal content number of Mrs. Clover, a number that was routinely deleted and re-added before and after every school break. He gulped, clicking on the icon for a video call and waiting.

The line had rung only a few moments before a middle-aged woman with cropped black hair appeared on screen, she blinked at the camera with warm honey eyes before a wide smile took over her face, “Oh! Riddle, hello, lovely. How are you? You don’t normally call. Oh! While I have you on the line, can you tell Trey I tried to call him this morning but his phone kept going to voicemail?”

“...About that…” Riddle smiled nervously, making brief eye contact with a very excited looking Trey at the sound of his mother’s voice, “Something happened today and…Well…” Riddle turned his phone around, doing his best to keep Trey in frame of the camera.

The sound of pans falling from over the phone was loud and as disastrous as Riddle feared it to be. Instead, Trey beamed, waving with both his arms and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Hi, mommy! I got shots today and was really brave!” Trey moved closer to the screen, holding up his unopened sucker for his mom to view, “I got a sucker. I think it’s strawberry. I can tell because it’s pink but still red. So it’s not cherry. I can tell!”

Riddle could hear how frazzled Mrs.Clover was, the woman stuttering over her words, “Oh, how amazing, Trey! You’ve gotten so good at telling flavors, haven’t you? Um…B-be a good boy for mommy and be nice to Riddle okay? He’s gonna look after you for a bit, okay?”

“Okay, mommy! I’ll be good!”

“Trey!”

Riddle and Trey looked over, Cater now on Deuce’s shoulders and looking into a cabinet with an expression of wonder, “There’s more pasta shapes in here!”

“I wanna see!” Trey had dashed over, only to stop and double back to wave to the camera one more time, “Bye, mommy!”

“Bye, sweetie~...” Once Trey had ran off, being picked up by Ace to look into the cabinet, Mrs.Clover whispered, “Riddle, what happened to my son?”

Riddle turned the camera back to himself, whispering low as to not gain anyone’s attention, “There was a situation involving a misbrewed potion being slipped to a group of juniors and Trey was unfortunately a part of it. Bloodwork was taken and there’s no harm being done from the potion. They’re simply…four for the next few weeks.”

Mrs.Clover stood with her mouth lightly agape, giving Riddle a hard stare that lasted so long her husband had called out to her in mild confusion and concern. She shook her head, blinking herself back before turning around. She said a few words that Riddle couldn’t make out before facing him again, “We’ll get our ducks in a row over here. By…By Sunday we should have everything all set to close down for the week to come help you boys out.”

“Mrs.Clover, I couldn’t possibly ask-”

“Well, you aren’t, I’m offering, Riddle. You said a group got turned right? You boys over there are still just kids. My husband and I will be there to take the load off of you from watching them. Plus, it’ll be nice you know? We missed so much of Trey’s childhood…It’s not permanent but it’d be nice to have more pictures of him from when he was small…”

“...” Riddle huffed, looking to the side, “That would be helpful…I will have plenty of paperwork to handle now that Trey and Cater are indisposed…”

“I’ll call you later tonight! I can help you get Trey settled into bed. You should think of calling Cater’s parents, too. Bye, Riddle. Talk more later, okay?”

“Understand. Farewell and a good afternoon to you Mrs.Clover.”

Once the call had ended, Riddle thought over her words. It may be helpful for the others dealing with toddlers to have a week break from tending to them. Humming under his breath, he sends a message to Ortho, wondering what the android though of the idea of alerting the turned junior’s families…

Translations!

*V: Rook, what did you want? R: My papa does it for me, my brother and my sister. There are no tomatoes

**R: Don't know what a shot is? They hurt and are scary!

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst heartslabyul #twst savanaclaw #twst pomefiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia #toddler chronicles

69 notes · View notes

losersolace · 13 days ago

Text

to add to my opposites attract solangelo hcs: let’s talk about music.

i agree with the emo and goth music listener nico di angelo hc BUT i also think he is the furthest thing from a music snob. i feel like once he got out of the lotus casino and found out how many years of music he missed out on he started listening to as much music as he could. like what do you think he did during all those years of self isolation???? look out the bus window while it’s raining WITHOUT a mitski song??? plot revenge WITHOUT a country song about a cheating husband??? daydream about finding love WITHOUT a cheesy 2010s pop song????? i also think he’s one of those people who don’t know how to make playlists and throws everything they like in one and it’s WILD. he has disco followed by black metal followed by country followed by techno etc, multiple decades and multiple languages. there are songs he likes more than others but he doesn’t let genres stop him from at least trying.

will however had his whole life to experiment at a normal pace. had multiple phases and ended up a podcast enjoyer. which is funny bc his mom is a singer and his dad is the god of music, but that’s exactly why!! music is too powerful and personal, while the talking is like white noise and helps him concentrate. the times he does listen to music however?? he’s a certified YEARNER. nico canonically got the hint he liked him bc he kept staring from afar like that miley cyrus pic. my conclusion? HE’S THE REAL EMO MUSIC ENJOYER IN THE COUPLE. specifically, emo-rock and midwest emo. also alternative indie. he’s also not a snob, occasionally listens to other music, but while nico kinda likes whatever he likes, will heavily prefers these genres. also, opposite to nico’s messy playlists, will listens to albums front to back in the same order the artist put the songs in.

#yes will likes car seat headrest #yes nico likes 1D #and they both love chappell roan #theyre both me btw #also if there’s an album dionysus inspired it’s brat by charli xcx #do you think nico could get away with being mr ds favorite and not like it???#this may be controversial #I still love you goth nico #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #pjo hoo toa #rrverse #hc #this may have poor grammar #I wrote this at 2am again

56 notes · View notes

katanablue · 4 months ago

Text

Y’all will never guess the song I was listening to when this idea popped into my head lmfao

Dancing with Mikey is one of those things that’s just a normal part of your routine with him and one that you’ll never ever get tired of, no matter how many times he takes you by the hand and pulls you to him.

It could be any song playing from either of your phones; jazz, country, rock, 80’s, alternative, pop, Mikey won’t hesitate to start dancing and take you along with him.

His favorite specifically is when you’re cooking together, needing something to occupy the time while you wait for something to boil or bake. Music already plays from your phone and it doesn’t take long for him to turn up the volume a bit more and latch onto your hands.

Your laughter gives him energy, fuels his soul and drives him to be a better mutant because God does he love the way your face lights up each and every time he starts making you dance with him. It’s even better when you initiate first, finding the perfect song to match the mood and tug him away from the kitchen counter as soon as he’s done with whatever he’s doing.

You’re not afraid to get silly with it and it’s something you absolutely adore about the other. Making up dance moves and screaming the lyrics, not caring if your neighbors or his brothers shout complaints because in the moment it doesn’t matter, too engrossed in making a memory with the love of your life.

You like that you don’t have a specific way of jiving to whatever song it is, sometimes he’ll have you slow dancing to an upbeat song and then the next you’ll be doing the robot to a powerful ballad. His favorites are the ones he can act out literally, overdramatizing them so he can make you do that full belly laugh while other times he’ll do the choreo he saw in a movie like ‘Grease’.

And in the end he’ll always thank you the exact same way: a kiss to the back of your hand, ‘thank you for the dance, (insert whatever nickname he’s feeling)’, and then another kiss directly to your lips.

Then you use the down time to calm down, going back to tending to your cooking and checking to see if anything needs to be turned or whipped.

And if the recipe calls for another wait time, he’s already queuing up the next couple of songs, counting down the seconds until he can have you in his arms once again.

#tmnt #michelangelo x reader #bayverse tmnt #bayverse michelangelo #my writings #now reread it again but picture Rick James’ super freak LMFAOOOOO #bayverse mikey x reader #Bayverse Michelangelo x reader

58 notes · View notes

umbrellacam · 7 months ago

Text

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊

#Cam reads comics #hopscotching around between different time periods because violent FOMO yearning for different eras and interactions always strikes #Cam posts

70 notes · View notes

khush-chronicles · 4 months ago

Text

A brief history of Bangladesh and why it is relevant to the current situation

The Indian subcontinent liberated itself from the British in 1947. Two new countries were born, India and Pakistan. The Bangladesh we know today was a part of Pakistan.

In 1952, the students of Dhaka University, along with my other, marched on the streets, protesting that "Urdu"-the national language of Pakistan- would not be the national language of East Pakistan, now known as Bangladesh.

The reason behind this was that 52% of the people in the entire Pakistan spoke Bangla. There was no logic behind declaring Urdu as the national language of Pakistan as a whole. Much like India, there was no need to have a national language.

Students marched on 21st February, ignoring the red alerts. 7 students were martyred, shot by the police. But we protected our mother tongue, we established our rights, and their bloodshed was worth it.

Now, why is it relevant now? Because the history is repeating itself. Only Bangladesh's own government is playing the role of the autocratic Pakistani government. Worse, our prime minister is the daughter of the man who was the prime force behind the liberation of our country.

Bangladesh is the only country in the world that has 256 kinds of quotas reserved for various kinds of people. Even 10% for women. All are applicable at various levels, starting from primary school admissions to government jobs. 56% are reserved for quota holders altogether. 44% are for normal people.

Now, if it had been the other way around, no one would've been that angry. Bangladesh is a country of 200 million people. let's just say 1/4th of them are students. 50 million. The population of quota holders is 200 thousand. Is it not laughable? The 200 thousand students have the right to study, and get jobs and the remaining 49+ million have to fight for 44%? What kind of joke is this?

See the similarities? Trying to give everything to the minority?

The quota most applicable is the "freedom fighter" quota. The people who fought during the liberation war in 1971. Utmost respect and love towards them. But why should their grandchildren benefit from their participation? What is the guarantee that these grandchildren won't harm the country, the same country that was liberated by their grandparents' blood?

The freedom fighters who are still alive, they are ashamed. The population during the war was 70 million. 3 million were martyred. But more than half of the population fought, and the women gave shelter, food, and help in any way they could. Not every one of them collected their certificates. Most of them were illiterate, they didn't even know what a certificate was. And those who knew but didn't collect, and are alive, are saying that they didn't fight so their grandchildren could take advantage, they fought to save the country, they didn't fight for glory.

Our Prime Minister fled the country during the war. There are no records of her brothers fighting in the war either. Her father gave speeches in his white clothes but never picked up a rock to throw.

That aside, now students from almost every university in Bangladesh are protesting against the quota system. So many students cannot be wrong. And the government cannot again be right. It's the minority vs majority all over again.

Another uncanny similarity, 7 were martyred today. 16th July 2024, 7 were given their lives again, for the right study and do jobs and serve their country. What a downfall it is when our friends, seniors, and juniors are giving their lives, just for such simple rights. Where is democracy? Where is liberation? Is this what our grandfathers fought the war for?

The situation is worsening every hour. On 25th March 1971, Pakistani military forces raided homes. Not universities, not halls, HOMES. Of the general public. This was called "Operation Searchlight". No electricity, no light, no warning. Only breaking into homes and massacring men, women, children, and old, children without discrimination or thoughts. Again, something similar is happening.

There is this group called "Student League", they are students of various universities as well, but they are basically bootlickers of the prime minister. They follow whatever she says without any sense of morals.

The minister for education paid them to attack students in halls- confessed by a member of the Student League.

They entered the halls, and hospitals, beat up injured students, locked the hall rooms, and harassed the female students. The video clips that were shared, the screams of the girls, the way they were saying "Brothers save us", it's giving me goosebumps while I am typing it.

They stabbed many students who were returning home. They beat up many many girls who were silently standing by the roads. They harassed the general public.

Both sides are students. Only their teachings are different.

What's about to happen? How many more are dying? The internet connection is off. We can only access through VPN and Wifi. There is a red alert around the areas where most universities are situated. They are cutting off electricity where the protests happened and raiding houses. Again, the similarities. They are checking the homes of the general public if they are housing student protestors. If yes, the students are being dragged out on the roads. Where is freedom?

There is much more happening, which I am not even writing about right now. Much more to come.

Is this what Liberation is? Then I do not want it. If this is what freedom is, I would rather be in a cage.

My account isn't very big, but I am still posting about it. If yours is or if your friends' is, if you come across this post, spread it. Let the world know what an autocrat that woman is. What a tyrant she is.

PS: About a month ago Bangladesh was deemed "The most Peaceful Country in Asia" which is a blatant joke.

I have never been so ashamed and proud of my country at the same time.

#save bangladeshi students #bangladesh #bangladesh news #bangla blockade #student protests #university #student life #school #college #spread the word #alleyesonbangladesh

45 notes · View notes

tttovarichhh · 4 months ago

Text

well if anyone is giving

my take on that iconic quote 🫣😏

A proper education has lots of benefits – detailed in-depth study of the material, the best teachers and the harsh discipline of public schools, well, to prepare in advance for a harsh life. The only thing that the creators of such closed educational institutions obviously did not think about is how, what kind of things teenage boys do during puberty.

partly 18+ 🤫

if you want me to tag you under something like that next time, just say, i am gonna be very happy to do so

The difference between Charles and Erik is the deep abyss.

Charles is mesmerised by the abyss, while Erik is repulsed by its depth and the sharp rocks at the bottom, which could fatally injure him. But each day Lehnsherr comes closer to the edge, peering down, testing his own interest.

And God, that damn difference is sometimes Erik bloody needs while hates at the same time.

“Yes, not everyone had that privilege,” whiskey runs through the blood with growing irritation and Erik hisses at Charles once again, still trying to hide inner rage from not being on the same level with Xavier.

Charles is better, Charles is so fucking ideal, you can use his image as a religious symbol to protect souls of all those pitiful bastards, who just never had money to experience normality of life.

And that is what makes Erik heart race with anger every time.

“It doesn’t make any difference, Erik. We are not represented just by our education or wealth or anything else.”

Charles is soft, as usual. He knows, this topic is hard for Lehnsherr. There is so much pain in him, Charles is surprised anyone can have it and not go completely mad.

Erik hums, takes one more sip of whiskey and smirks, looks at Charles with some hint of growing drunk playfulness, still mixed with annoyance.

“Tell me, how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Your school. Your proper posh education in a castle where no one allowed, where you all know each other and play golf during lunch or whatever. How was it?”

“Well,” Charles smiles, takes a drink himself, recovering some vivid memories, “we haven’t played golf on a lunch break, actually. But believe me, Erik, it wasn’t so ideal as you imagine it. Yes, we had great lecturers, but boys everywhere the same, no matter the social class.”

Lehnsherr smirk at that, tilts his head. He looks at Charles and laughs softly.

“Of course. The same.”

“I am not saying my experience was the same as yours, my friend, I would never make that comparison, but it seems like you think those, as you say, castles, are some sort of sacred places,” Xavier smiles back, runs fingers through his hair, then glances at Erik again. Erik just watches him, lazily running his index finger on the edge of glass.

“Aren’t they?”

“Not at all. I might say, they are the dirties places in the country, full of teenage boys, who are just figuring out things about themselves,” at that, Charles smiles softly, reminiscing about his younger self and what used to happen behind closed doors at school. He glances up at Erik, his gaze darts at Lehnsherr.

Erik smiles back, leans back in the chair, his own eyes never leaving Charles’.

Silence in the room is palpable and slides under Erik’s skin with a light tension and growing feeling of warmth from the whiskey.

“Did they know about your mutation?”

“No. I am glad they didn’t as I was using too frequently. It was a fun time and I am sorry you are still feeling like we are different in that regard. I understand it, but please, don’t think of me as just a posh bastard.”

“I am not.”

“I know you do, deep inside you still do,” Charles says it softly, nearly whispering and Erik not completely sure was it even a real phrase or just Xavier’s presence in his mind.

They stay silent for a while, this time the quiet feels way more welcoming and soothing. Erik drinks a bit more, still glancing at Charles, knowing, there is no need to talk. Everything is clear and just waits it’s time.

“I better get some sleep, Charles. Thanks for the game,” Lehnsherr glances at the chess on the table, smirks at his win. Once again, he proved himself to a better opponent.

Charles smiles, stands up, steps closer to Erik, looks up at him before gently tapping on the shoulder.

“I am not your enemy, Erik. I am your friend, please, let me be one.”

Erik glances down at the palm on his shoulder and nods. Their eyes meeting again, darting at each other, testing who is gonna give up first to the growing need to jump in the abyss, knowing of death down there. And Erik does.

The kiss is gentle, full of drunken need and some bloody sentiment he hates to pull out to the light. He needs it like air, searches to response, scared to be rejected and then covered with shame for not keeping him self conscious. Erik pulls away, looks down at Charles, searching for all the answers again and frowns slightly as the sense of growing regret raises inside as a flame.

Xavier looks at Erik, takes his hand and rests on his neck, smiles as Lehnsherr brushes fingers agains the skin slowly.

“I am not pushing you away, Erik.”

“But do you accepting me?”

“Yes,” this time Charles leans forwards, meets Erik’s lips in a kiss, less sensual one and way more fierce. Lehnsherr responds to it, sliding his other hand in Xavier’s hair, tugging slightly. He breaks the kiss, his heart is beating rapidly and he smirks.

“So, what exactly do all the boys do in those private schools?”

“Making out a lot,” smiles Charles, resting his hands just above Erik’s hips while Lehnsherr is still brushing his fingers over his skin, “too much, even.”

“Mmm, I see. You aren’t as innocent as others see you, Charles.”

“I never pretended I am,” he smirks playfully, steps even closer and looks in Erik’s eyes once again, without any hints, just clear proposal. Lehnsherr bites his lip, laughing softly, his caresses are gentle yet on the line to become more possessive.

Erik doesn’t go to his room this night. He lets his guard fall and Charles smiles, kissing Lehnsherr’s neck, sometimes nuzzling with soft bites, making Erik exhale deeply.

“Is this what you have learned?”

“Precisely, my dear, and much more,” another bite, this time on the shoulder just above hundreds of small freckles Erik hates, “they are beautiful, stop thinking badly of them.”

“Stop giving me life advices at least right now,” Erik hisses, looking up at Charles, who laughs at that, before reaching out for the belt on trousers. Xavier smirks when it flies away by itself and Lehnsherr pops up on his elbows.

“Ops,” he smiles, reaches for Charles and pulls him closer by the hips, still gently, “I have my tricks as well, just so you know.”

“I know,” he says, leaning down again, biting on the collarbone, leaving growing marks, while Erik lays down on the pillows, closing eyes, moans softly.

Charles kisses him all over, bites and brushes his fingers on every line of the body, settling everything in his memory. Every bone, muscle, scar, freckle and mole, everything needs to be healed by kisses and touches, and Xavier volunteers to be a doctor.

And Erik is grateful. Arching under the touches, he lets control go and just allows himself to feel and moan in a pillow, while Charles once again, presses lips on the back on his neck, making sure that Lehnsherr feels comfortable with him.

And he does. He does so much that they start to spend nights together nearly every day, changing roles, but still being there for each other in every aspect. And they fall into the depth of that abyss again and again, making Erik wonder if there ever will be the end of this fall.

#erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #professor x #magneto #cherik #x men movies #x men first class #x men #michael fassbender #james mcavoy

51 notes · View notes

orcasoul · 1 year ago

Text

The swimming lesson

Summary: The reader is friends with Joel and Ellie. During a trek one day the reader embarrassingly admits she can't swim and Ellie suggests that Joel could teach her. Her and Joel arrange a day for her first lesson and they both end up getting more than they bargained for!

Warnings: Smut, under 18's DNI, swearing, use of Y/N.

Italics indicate inward thinking.

This is my first ever attempt at writing smut, so I apologise if it's not that good. Please go easy on me 🙈

Word Count: 7,335

The stifling Wyoming summer sunshine rained it's searing rays down on the three of you as you made your way through the coniferous woodland. Slivers of golden light trickle lazily through the swaying leaves, bathing the trees, the ground and your companions in a luminous glow. The soft breeze blows loose strands from your braid across your face, tickling your nose and cheeks. "Uh, sweating my "balls" off out here," Ellie groaned for the thousandth time. "Hey you wanted to go for a hike, kiddo," Joel blithely reminded her. "Didn't think we'd be out this long," she replied in a teasing tone. "I thought you'd be used to all this walking after coming all the way from Boston," you countered with a smirk and raised eyebrow. "Touche," she answered amusedly. "You're right though, it is scorching out here," you agree as you lethargically drag your feet, kicking up lose rocks and twigs. Joel on the other hand seems to be taking everything in his stride. After journeying across country and the endless smuggling ventures in Boston, a stroll in the wilderness was a piece of cake for him. Over the summer you, Joel and Ellie had taken up trekking for fun, and even though Ellie complained about the heat she actually loved these little adventures, often being the one to arrange these trips.

You loved them too. For years you'd explored the woodland alone after one of your closest friends' had decided the outdoors wasn't for her. Apart from her patrol shifts she rarely left Jackson. But for you a walk in the wild yonder was rejuvenating, a peaceful solace when you could pretend that the world hadn't changed, that people still went about their normal lives, shops were open, cars were running and children could play outdoors and just be children. Maybe this is why Ellie loved these excursions. She had the chance to be a carefree child for a while. After doing this alone for so long it was a welcome change to have company. Joel and Ellie's arrival several months ago was the talk of the town, even if they only stayed for one night. But their return a short while after and their decision to call Jackson home sent a buzz through the community. It's a rare thing for new people to join the town and a lot of the women fawned over Joel the second they saw him return. You couldn't blame them, really. A woman would have to be blind to not find Joel incredibly handsome, but some of them seemed to be all too eager to catch his attention, flirting shamelessly, constantly offering him drinks at the Tipsy Bison and generally making desperate, doe eyed fools of themselves.

You'd noticed over recent months how those women gave you death glares across the bar and the mess hall as you and Joel began to spend more time together. It was inevitable, really. Maria and you were good friends and Joel being Tommy's brother meant you'd unintentionally spent a lot of time with him and his adopted daughter and things just naturally progressed from there, to the point that you'd go to the Tipsy Bison together, have meals at each other's houses and take these leisurely walks. If you were being honest with yourself, you'd been harbouring a crush on the grouchy man from the moment you'd met him and over time those feelings had grown into something much deeper. But you felt it was best if you kept those feelings hidden, seeing as Joel didn't seem all that interested in the whole dating scene. Plenty of times you'd seen him rebuff the not so subtle advances of horny women, mumbling something and walking away from their attempts at seduction to join you, Tommy and Maria at your table. You couldn't resist the urge to smirk at their annoyed expressions and you couldn't deny the relief you felt every time he rejected them. It would have been heartbreaking to watch him take a woman home. But you're not stupid. He's a man with needs after all, and you'd overheard a few of the single women tell their friends that they'd spent the night with Joel. But by the sound of it, that's all it seemed to be; a one night stand.

And that was before the two of you had become friends, which made that bitter pill a little easier to swallow. But in recent months you'd noticed how he couldn't seem to get away from these vultures quick enough when they tried their luck. A part of you hoped, maybe foolishly, that he rebuffed them because maybe, just maybe, he had feelings for you too. But the logical part of your mind kept telling you that was wishful thinking and to not look too much into it. If only your yearning heart would listen to your sensible mind, alas it's never that simple. So you tried your best to ignore your feelings, even though sometimes you could swear you'd caught the odd lingering stare from him, subtle touches lasting longer than necessary, such as when he'd pull you up a steep incline and not immediately release your hand, or when he opened a door for you to walk through and his hand would nestle at the small of your back. Of course it could just be his way of being friendly and polite and maybe you're only seeing what you want to see. So it was for the best to try and suppress any fanciful thoughts and just focus on being his friend. After all, you'd rather have Joel as a friend than not at all.

And now here you are, traipsing through the picturesque landscape with your two favourite people. It's nearing late afternoon now and you swear the sun's heat has spiked just to torture you, sweat rolling down your neck and soaking the top of your tank top. The breeze seems to have vanished too, making the woodland feel like an unforgiving inferno. You watched as Joel led the way along the trail, the broad expanse of his back capturing your attention in a mesmerising allure. You noticed how his sweaty black T-shirt stuck to the planes and muscles of his physique and if you hadn't pretty much sweated all of the water from your body already, you're certain you'd be drooling now. God, does this man even know how beautiful he is? An unexpected outburst from Ellie snapped you out of your momentary ogling. "Oh hell yeah!" She exclaimed, excitedly as she darted off down a trail to the right. "Ellie," Joel shouted as he ran after her, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following. As you descend the slight incline you gasp at the sight before you. A small and placid lake with a small jetty (probably built for fishing before the outbreak), surrounded by low lying vegetation and trees sat hidden away as if it's beauty is to sacred for just anyone to see it.

The colour of the water seemed almost unnatural, the dazzling azure of the shore giving way to cobalt blue the further out you looked. The mostly still water rippled now and then as fish came to the surface to devour unsuspecting bugs, while the sunlight glistened and shimmered off the glass like surface. Birds warbled to each other in the trees and you found yourself lost in the moment. A moment to appreciate the radiance and serenity this post apocalyptic world has managed to retain. Beauty, simplicity, harmony; It can all still be found if you take the time to look for it, and with that comes the joy of knowing that not everything had been destroyed. These moments should be cherished, maybe now more than ever. "Wow it's stunning!" you breathed out in awe, eyes fixated on the scene gracing you. "Bombs away!" Ellie yelled as she dropped her pack and ran to the end of the jetty. Her cannonball entrance startled the birds feeding on the shore close by, forcing them to take to the air. After a few moments she breaks the surface with the goofiest grin on her face, while pushing loose, soaked strands out of her eyes.

"You two gotta try this!" she beamed. Joel rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, as he always did when she got carried away. "I don't think so, kiddo," he replied, folding his arms. Ellie huffed, "Fine, you old grouch. You have no idea what you're missing." "I'm sure I don't," Joel smirked. "What about you Y/N?" Ellie asked hopefully. "Um....," you began. "Go on in if you want," Joel insisted with a soft smile that almost made you knees buckle, "I'll keep an eye out." "I...um...," you falter, cheeks turning redder than the heat already made them. Joel raised his eyebrows, puzzled by your awkward response. "Come on," Ellie pressed, almost impatiently, kicking her legs up in front of her. "Don't make me swim alone." You look to Ellie, then to Joel sheepishly. "I can't swim," you confess with a shrug. "Really?" Joel seemed genuinely surprised. You shake your head, embarrassment creeping over you at your lack of knowledge of a skill that could one day save your life.

"Joel can teach you. He taught me," Ellie offered while twirling in the water. "Would you Joel?" you ask, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. "Sure thing, darling," Joel replied, his southern drawl becoming more prominent on the last word. "And don't worry about drowning. Joel will give you the kiss of life," Ellie interjected with a wink and a smirk at you, that suggested she knew something you didn't. "Ellie!" Joel snapped, his flushed cheeks matching your own. "What?" Ellie shrugged nonchalantly, "Just saying is all." Joel looked at you and smiled shyly. You've never seen Joel look so flustered the whole time you've known him and you couldn't help but find him suddenly endearing, provoking a shy smile of your own to break out across your face. "So when can we do this?" you asked quickly, before Joel can change his mind. "Guess we could do it tomorrow?" he suggested. "Cool, tomorrow it is!" You confirmed with a big grin. Your mind was racing with excitement and nerves on the walk back to Jackson. You and Joel would be alone in the water, physically closer than you've ever been before. Just the thought of his big, strong hands holding you in the water was enough to dampen your panties with desire. Stop it! you chastised yourself. He doesn't like you like that. But then why did Ellie wink? And why did Joel seem so awkward? Maybe... nope, nope he doesn't, you try to convince your overly hopeful mind.

Joel could kill Ellie sometimes. That girl is too smart and too perceptive for her own good. For months Joel was convinced he'd successfully concealed his feelings for you, but all this time Ellie could see straight through his facade. His heart thumped nervously in his chest as a thought crossed his mind. If Ellie saw it the whole time, could Y/N? His mouth became dry at the thought that you might have known all along, and for the sake of your friendship had decided to not acknowledge it. But now Ellie had let the cat out of the bag and there's no going back. The last thing he would want is to ruin the friendship the three of you had built over the months. Joel know's he's not the type to easily make friends but the more time he'd unintentionally spent around you, the more he realised he enjoyed your company. Your cheery disposition seemed to balance out his gruff and often grumpy demeanour and in no time at all he'd found himself falling hard for you. So much so that he no longer sought out meaningless one night stands with Jackson's women. He only wanted you. He'd often lie awake at night fantasising about taking you in his arms and worshipping your body as you deserve.

How he'd take his time exploring every inch of you, caressing your smooth skin and bringing you over the edge with his tongue again and again until you were begging him to fuck you. But every time he dared to hope that you could feel the same way he had to remind himself that a young, beautiful, graceful woman like you, who could have any man she wanted, wouldn't look twice at an man two decades older than her. And if the most he could get from you is your friendship, he'd gladly take that any day. He just hopes that Ellie's ill timed but well intended faux pas hasn't now caused irreparable damage. He noticed you'd been unusually quiet for most of the walk back, but then again so had he. Ellie of course filled the, what would have been, uncomfortable silence with her shitty puns and random comments about anything and everything that entered her mind. For once Joel was glad of Ellie's non stop blabber as it eased the air of awkwardness between you both as the two of you fell into conversation with her and eventually each other once again.

The three of you arrive home as the sun coats the evening sky in gold and pink hues, casting long shadows over the town, the calm air cooling to a more bearable temperature. "So.....," you turned to Joel before having to break away to make your way to your own house, "See you bright and early tomorrow?" "Yep, see you then, Y/N," he responded with a light pat on your shoulder, looking directly into your eyes. Just the slightest touch from Joel set your body buzzing. You don't think you've craved anyone so much in your entire life. Feeling a bit bashful under the gaze of his caramel brown eyes, you try your best to compose yourself and, looking between Joel and Ellie you bid them both a good night with a warm smile, then begin to walk away. "Night," Ellie chirps at you while waving, ".....and enjoy your lesson tomorrow!" she calls over her shoulder in an obvious teasing tone. You look back and chuckle when you see Joel gently shove her forward and mumble something at her in exasperation.

The lake sparkled in the early morning sunshine. The flawless surface, reflecting the world above the shoreline in a perfect mirror image resonated deep within you, reminding you once again of why you love to be out in the middle of nature. "Okay, ready for your first lesson?" Joel spoke in his authoritative dad voice as if he was addressing Ellie, which made you stifle a giggle. He dropped his backpack on the ground and pulled out a pair of knee length shorts. "Ready as I'll ever be," you reply enthusiastically. "Be right back," Joel said as he walked off behind a tree to change into the shorts. As he returned he noticed you trying to suppress a smile. Trying and failing. He cocks an eyebrow. "What?" "Nothing, you..... I just never thought I'd see grumpy Joel Miller looking so casual in a pair of shorts," you chuckled behind your hand. "Shut up," Joel playfully scolded you with a hint of discomfiture in his voice. "Aren't you going to change?" Joel inquired while looking over your jeans and T shirt. "You wont be able to swim in them." "One step ahead of you Miller," you grinned while removing your boots and socks, then taking off your top and Jeans to reveal a shocking pink bikini. Joel's jaw had never hit the floor so fast in his life! Heat spread through his cheeks and down south at the sight the sight of you in a bikini. Suddenly he felt like a teenager who'd seen boobs for the first time. You were mesmerising!

His gaze quickly trailed over your exposed body, from the curve of your hips to the valley between your pert breasts, supported perfectly by the thin materiel of your bikini top and finally up to your face. He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly as you looked at him a little bashfully and he realised he'd been caught staring just a little too long. "Shall we?" you gestured to the lake then turned to disguise the slight smirk that had broken out across your face. You are so glad you'd decided to check the old suitcases during a patrol to the ski lodge a few weeks ago, and found this little gem. You were initially hesitant about wearing it in front of Joel. It's been so long since you'd worn a bikini and the though of being so exposed felt quite foreign now, but judging by Joel face you couldn't have looked too bad in it. His reaction had set something off in your brain. Maybe he is attracted to me, after all? Maybe he's always wanted me as much as I want him..... or maybe it's just been a while since he's seen an (almost) naked woman, well... he's a man at the end of the day.

You're rational mind decided it was best to settle on that last reason and not dwell on it. You follow Joel into the water, nervously stepping further out until the surface is lapping at your waist. "It's effing freezing!" you shrieked cheerfully, while holding your hands above the water. "Wimp," Joel teased as he looked back at you, instantly noticing how your nipples poked through your bikini top. He spun his head back around, trying to gather his thoughts. "Just a little further," he coaxed. "It's not too deep." You swallow apprehensively and wade out a bit further until the water is level with your chest. You close the gap between you and Joel, suddenly feeling a warmth spread through you despite the frigid water. How can he have such an effect on me?... Focus, idiot! You look up into Joel's mahogany eyes and for a moment neither of you say anything or even move. Forget the fear of drowning in the lake, you're already drowning in those big, expressive, puppy dog eyes! Joel looks as nervous as you feel, the air so thick with sexual tension that you'd forgotten to breath.

You slowly release the breath you'd been unknowingly holding, your chest shuddering slightly as it escaped. It didn't go unnoticed by Joel, who was trying his best to keep it together when all he wanted to do was take you in his arms, taste you, feel you..... His jaw ticked as he cleared his throat again. "So..." Joel begins, awkwardly, "The first thing ya need to learn is how to stay afloat in an emergency." Joel's head begins to clear a little as he focuses on the lesson. "If you're in deep water and getting tired just lay on your back with your arms and legs spread out like a starfish." He demonstrated the position briefly, then stood back up and walked back over to you. Your eyes lustfully trailed over his torso as he made his way back. His soaked T-shirt clung to every inch of his chest and you suppressed the urge to bit your bottom lip. "Okay, you try." "But I'll sink," you protested timorously. "No you won't. I won't let ya," he reassured you with a small smile. "I'll keep my hand under your back and only let go when you're feeling confident, Okay?"

His soft and reassuring gaze helped to settle your unease. You've always trusted Joel and if he says he won't let you sink, then you're perfectly safe. "Okay..." you agree with a bit more confidence. As you begin to lean back you feel his hand lightly press against your back. What you weren't expecting was for his other hand to sweep across the back of your thighs to bring your legs to the surface with the rest of your body. A shot of arousal shot straight to your sex at the contact, your pussy clenching around nothing, while trying to keep your breathing steady. While floating you make sure to focus on the clear blue sky above you and not on Joel. Damn it, if you make eye contact now, you'll lose the last bit of composure you're just about clinging to. "There you go Y/N, you got it. Doing so well," Joel praised, softly.

Maybe it was just your heightened state of arousal but Joel's low, smooth voice sent a shudder rippling through you, exciting every inch of your body. It's enough to drive you to distraction! If he felt you shudder you could at least blame it on the cold water and hide the fact that he's so easily making you feel like a horny schoolgirl. You're so preoccupied with keeping your waning composure in check that you don't notice that Joel is having just as hard a time focusing as you are. Seeing your entire body laid out before him, (and almost naked for God sake), is the sweetest torture he's ever had to endure. He can't help it but his eyes momentarily drift to your chest, relishing the sight of your pebbled nipples poking through the thin fabric of your bathing suit, the way the water runs down each breast. God, how he longs to run his fingers over your silky looking skin and gently pinch your nipple until you moan..... Fuck, he groaned inwardly. He shouldn't be looking at you and thinking about you like this. You're his friend for crying out loud, his much younger friend too! He shakes his head as though it would erase every sinful thought invading his mind.

"Okay," he breathed, "I'm gonna let go now, darling." He slowly removes his hands, much to your disappointment, and your body begins to float. You're amazed at how easily you bob on the surface and can't hold back an elated squeal. "Joel, I'm actually floating. I'm doing it, look!" Joel's heart felt like it just grew in size at your carefree and childlike happiness. Seeing you smile, hearing you laugh reminds him that there is still beauty in this world. "Good job, sweetheart," Joel commended with a grin, "knew you could do it." After a few moments of savouring the sensation of almost weightlessness you lowered your feet to the bottom and decided your are brave enough to try again, without assistance. You beam with excitement as the movements come to you so effortlessly. "You're a natural," Joel crooned. Giggling you place your feet back down and turn to face Joel, who looked like a proud dad at his kids' school play. With exhilaration still buzzing through your veins you look up into Joel's eyes with a broad grin, "Thank you for- Arrrrgh!!!..."

Joel felt as though he was going to have a heart attack as a sudden burst of adrenaline ripped through him. Before he could even fully register what was happening you had gripped onto his neck, wrapped your legs tightly around his stomach and tried to crawl higher up his torso. The sheer, unexpected force of your body slamming into his knocked him off balance. He stumbled back while instinctively wrapping his arms around you, just managing to steady himself before falling back and taking you under with him. "What the fuck?!" Joel yelled, his face matching the panic on your own. "Something's down there! It touched me! It fucking touched me!" You screamed while while still trying to crawl up him. Joel sighed a breath of relief. "It's just a fish. There's plenty of them in here. They ain't gonna hurt you," He reassured you while trying to suppress a smirk. However his voice betrayed the fact that he now found your reaction amusing. "Hey, it's not fucking funny, okay!" you smiled as you slapped his shoulder. "It scared the shit out of me!" "And you scared the shit outta me! Can't do that to an old man!" Joel retorted lightheartedly.

You chuckled while nervously looking around for a few moments, not that you can see anything under the water, then turn your attention fully to Joel. You've never been this close to him before and you find yourself transfixed by his eyes. You notice the varying shades of brown and how they blend so intricately together, as if nature itself is an artist and Joel is the masterpiece. Those beautiful, expressive orbs could tell a thousand stories and you wish to know every one of them, the good and the bad. But the story they seem to be conveying now is one of nervousness and..... want? It feels as though he's looking past your own eyes and into your very soul, discovering secrets and desires deep within. You feel vulnerable and exposed and you like it. You're not sure how long you've both been staring at one another, when suddenly you are acutely aware that Joel's hands are cupping your ass, on big palm on each cheek, holding you tightly against him. You feel your tits press into his chest with every inhale you take, but you don't want to move.

Joel's brain is still trying to catch up with what exactly just transpired here. With what led you both to being in such an intimate embrace. All he knows for certain is that he owes that fish a huge debt! He never imagined he would eve get to hold you so close and now he never wants to let go. He could be wrong, he could be seeing what he wants to see but he's been around long enough to recognise the look you're giving him in this moment; The look of longing and desire. That, coupled with the fact that your soft and supple ass is currently in his hands has his cock rock hard in his shorts. Thank god you climbed up his body or this would have been really awkward. "Joel," you whisper in a sultry tone, "You can..... you can let go now." You know your expression belies your words. Truthfully you could stay this way forever. Joel notices the contradiction, and it may be foolish of him but he has to know. He has to try or he'll regret it for the rest of his days. "Do you want me to let go?" he asked slowly, chest heaving in anticipation. He's sure you can feel the vibrations of his frantic heartbeat. You almost say yes but your body yearns for his touch, his warmth, and it's obvious now that he doesn't want to let go. You stare into his eyes for a few moments before shaking your head, "No... I don't" you exhale in relief, feeling a weight lifted from you now that you've made it clear you want him. He knows now and there's no going back.

Your gaze leaves his eyes and travels to his plush lips, then return to his eyes, looking for any indication that he's uncomfortable. But all you find is a quiet confirmation that he wants this as much as you do in the way he also looks at your mouth, then to your eyes. Slowly, you lean in, giving him the chance to back away if he changes his mind. But before you can think too much on that Joel closes the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours. His lips feel as soft as they look, a feather-light touch that sends jolts of electricity down your spine. You slide a hand up into his hair, gently gripping onto his wavy locks. Joel deepens the kiss while sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You gladly grant him access, savouring the taste and feel of his warm tongue for the first time. What began as a delicate, soft kiss has now become a passionate entanglement of tongues and teeth. You grip his hair harder with both hands to hold his head as you both lick into each other. Joel's fingers dig into your ass cheeks, pushing your already throbbing core to rub against his stomach. You gasp as you involuntarily grind your pussy against him, which causes Joel to grip you tighter and moan into your mouth. A deep, reverberating moan that travels through his chest and into yours, igniting and insatiable need for him to be inside you. Joel breaks away to look into your eyes, his own dark with need.

"Jesus Christ Y/N, you got no idea how badly I want you," Joel rasped while running one hand up the curve of your bare back. A small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you playfully run your nose along the curved tip of his. "Show me," you purred against his lips, while running a hand down his stomach, to the hem of his shorts. Joel's brain almost short circuited right then and there. He's pray's, no begs this isn't all a dream. Here you are, the woman he's fallen hopelessly in love with, whom he craves more than oxygen, is asking him to discover her in the most intimate sense. He can't hold back anymore. He's like a man possessed! Grabbing the back of your neck, he crashes his mouth onto yours, his tongue parting your lips and finding your tongue once again. You moan into his mouth as his fingers find the hem of your bikini bottoms, covering your soft lips. He slowly slides a finger underneath the fabric, resulting in your back arching of it's own accord. His tender stroking is enough to send jolts of pleasure throughout your clenching pussy. You run your hand further down and into his shorts, finding his already throbbing cock. Fuck, he's huge! You use your fingers to map out the image, feeling each vein along his length and the sheer width.

You feel a smug sense of satisfaction knowing you are the reason he's so hard right now. You feel his cock twitch as you wrap your hand around him and slowly begin to pump up and down, rubbing your thumb over the sensitive head. The groan you pull from him is primal and only serves to fuel your own arousal more. Joel's now holding you by one ass cheek as his thick and agile fingers tease your entrance. Your grip tightens around his dick as he lightly traces along your folds until he settles on your clit. A high pitched gasp escapes from your throat as Joel begins to rub small circles over the little bundle of nerves, sending tingles all along your cunt and into your lower stomach, the sensitivity causing your whole body to shudder as his strokes become faster and more determined. Unable to focus on anything but the intense pleasure anymore, your moans turns into cries as your face falls to his shoulder and your hand stills on his cock. Joel holds you tight as waves of euphoria radiate across your shuddering frame, seizing your muscles and stealing the air from your lungs. "That's it, good girl. So good for me," Joel purrs in your ear as you come down from your high. "Joel...." you wheeze, breathlessly. "Hmm?" He hums as he nips at your earlobe while squeezing your ass tighter. "I need.... need you inside me....now," you rasp through your delirious haze.

Just hearing you say those words (words he never thought he'd hear from you) has Joel's mind whirling. "I'll give ya what you need sweetheart. I'll take good care of ya, but not in this dirty water. Don't want ya getting an infection, do we?" And with that he grips your plush ass with both hands, pulling you up to wrap your legs tighter around his waist, the unexpected manhandling turning you on even more than you thought possible. He walks you both out of the water and onto the shoreline as if you weigh nothing to him. Joel kisses you again while slowly sliding you down his body until one foot reaches the ground, the other leg is hiked up to his hip, his calloused hand smoothing the soft flesh at the back of your thigh. With a deep groan he releases your leg and walks over to the backpacks, pulling two towels out and laying them on the mossy ground. Joel walks back over to you, wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you off your feet, causing you to giggle, which in turn brings out of him that smile you adore. It's a good thing he has a firm hold of you right now or your knees would give out at such a beautiful sight. He brings you to the towels to lay you down. The cool, mossy ground is almost as soft as a mattress and the thought of having Joel out here in the beauty of the natural world is both freeing and exhilarating! As Joel settles between your legs you sit up and grab the bottom of his T-shirt.

He lifts his arms, allowing you to pull his wet shirt off. His body is a sight to behold! Broad shoulders leading to a toned chest with a scattering of greying chest hair, thick arms almost three times the size of your own, perfectly bronzed and sun kissed skin littered with several scars; A testament of his will and ability to survive in a dangerous and unpredictable world. You suddenly feel like no-one and nothing on this Earth could touch you with this powerhouse of a man at your side. You bite your lower lip and lean in, planting kisses all along his collarbone and move down his chest, running your hands up and down his soft stomach. As you indulge in enjoying Joel's body with your lips and tongue, he reaches around to unclasp your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground. He pulls back to admire the sight gracing his eyes. The image of your bare breasts before him has Joel salivating. His eyes turn dark with lust. He lifts a hand to caress the soft swell of your tit, rolling a pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger, just as he'd imagined. Christ, you feel heavenly!

The sound of your sultry sigh only increases the intensity of Joel's burning desire to claim every bit of you. He lowers his head and takes your tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipple, while palming the other one. Your arms wrap around his head and your head falls back as you arch your back, pushing your chest further into his face. The sounds he's pulling from you only seem to spur him on. After a few more moments he releases your nipple with a satisfying 'Pop' and smirks. "God baby girl, you're perfect," Joel croons, "Tell me what you want." " I want to taste you, Joel." You didn't mean for your voice to sound like a whiny beg but that's all you can muster in your lust filled state. You look down to admire the tent in his shorts. "S'all yours, darling," he grins, his honeyed Texan drawl making you swoon. You eagerly pull his shorts down and his cock springs free, hitting his lower belly and smearing a smattering of precum over his 'treasure trial'. Your eyes widen at the size of him. Your sense of touch didn't deceive you; He really is fucking huge!

Your eyes trail up his thick and veiny member to the purplish tip and without realising you bite your bottom lip again. Joel chuckles, softly, "Like what you see?" "Mmmhmm....," is the only sentence you can articulate in return, your eyes wide in lust as you take in the glorious sight of him. You look up to Joel's face and silently tell him to stand, while you get up on your knees. You delicately take his dick in your hand, your fingers and thumb not even meeting around the girth of it. Slowly and firmly you pump while looking up at Joel, whose eyes are in the process of rolling back into his skull! "Fuck, Y/N, just like that. Feel's so good," he whines. Before he knows it he feels the wet warmth of your mouth enveloping him, your tongue swirling languidly around the head, almost making his knees buckle. He feels himself sink further into your throat, eliciting deep, sensual moans from your chest that vibrate through his cock, making him shudder. He feels close, too close as you continuously hollow out your cheeks and suck with a vengeance again and again. He has to stop you know or he won't last long enough to fuck you. "Okay, that's enough, sweetheart," he gushes as he gently pulls himself from your mouth, "or I'm not gonna last much longer and I wanna feel all of you," he says with a wink.

He carefully lays you back down on the ground as if you're made of fine china, and removes your bikini bottoms. "Whew..." Joel whistles, staring at your pussy with look of a starved animal. "Beautiful!" His reaction to your naked cunt stirs a feeling of desperation to have him inside you right now. "Joel.... I need you, need to feel you-" "Patience darling," he soothed while teasing your moist folds. "Just gonna loosen you up a bit for me. I don't wanna hurt you." He slowly sinks two thick fingers inside you, dragging along your velvety walls. You gasp in pleasure, your hips bucking in response to the welcome intrusion. After a few moments he hooks his fingers, pressing over and over onto that sweet spot that now has you reduced to a squirming, panting mess. "So wet," Joel marvels, his voice dripping with seedy desire. Your walls start to flutter as a burst of pleasure grips you for the second time. "Oh shit, Joel," you mewl as you recover from yet another orgasm, leaving you breathless. Joel smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "I know, baby. Ready for me now?" "Yes, please, just fuck me!" you beg, unashamedly. "I've got ya, gorgeous," Joel whispered. He notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, looks into your eyes and steadily and gently pushes into you, parting your velvety walls around his thickness. The beautiful sting of the stretch has you gasping and rolling your head back, overwhelmed with the sensations of pain and pleasure, both complimenting one another and setting your nerves, your cells, every part of you ablaze.

Joel can't help but grunt as he bottoms out completely. You both still for a moment, just to enjoy the feel of each other. You've never felt so deliciously full in all your life and wish it would never end. He then begins to thrust in and out, one hand gripping your hip while the other kneads hungrily at your breast. As Joel picks up the pace you feel him hitting your G spot over and over. You arch your back, wrap your arms and legs around him and spread your thighs wider, clamping your calves around his waist and digging your feet into his ass to push him as deep as possible. You just can't get enough of him! The tingling sensation returns, heat building in your belly at the blissful feeling of Joel's hard and throbbing cock hitting every part of your silky tunnel, bringing your orgasm dangerously closer by the second. Joel continues to pound into you like his life depends on it, battering your cervix. You've never experienced this level of rapture with any previous sexual partners. Joel certainly puts them to shame today. The familiar coil begins to tighten in your lower belly, causing your walls to contract harder around his length.

"Fuck," Joel gushes, sounding awed. "So tight!..... fucking.... fucking made for me sweet girl!" Joel's relentless pounding has you crying out his name as you soak his cock with you slick juices. "You're doing so good. Takin' me so good. I think you can give me one more, what ya say?" Your eyes feel heavy, chest heaving as you are still recovering from your third high. "I... can't...." you pant desperately. "Yes you can , baby." Joel's gentle coax seeps into your shaking body, making you completely compliant to his wishes. Hell, you'll do anything he wants right now. He kisses you, deep and hungry with passion while moving his fingers to your aching core. You're already to overstimulated that it takes mere seconds before you feel another orgasm building as he rubs faster and faster at your swollen bud. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, digging your nails in so deep you know you're leaving little crescent indents in his soft flesh. Something about that excites you even more, as if you're marking him as yours. You tremble, uncontrollably as a sudden surge of white hot bliss sweeps through your anatomy, your voice horse from screaming in ecstasy, you're ears ringing through yet another intoxicating peak.

You can tell Joel is close as his thrusts become sloppy. The sweet sound of your blissed out moans leaving your soft lips is music to Joel's ears. He's sure even the heavenly hosts could not sounds as enchanting as you do right now in his arms. He grabs your hand from his shoulder and lays it beside your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. He buries his face into your neck as he feels about ready to erupt. The warmth, the wetness, how you fit so perfectly around him, squeezing his pulsating erection is too much. "Where do you want me, sweetheart?" Joel asks in a low shuddering voice in your ear. "Inside please!" you implore. "I want all of you." Joel growls lewdly at the thought of laying complete claim to you by coating your insides in himself. A few more deep snaps of his hips brings his balls to tighten and throb as he bursts within you, painting your fluttering walls with thick ropes of his pearly white cum. His thrusts slowly cease as your legs fall limp from his sides. You kiss him leisurely, both groaning into each other's mouths. "That was..." Joel begins, still catching his breath, cheeks flushed red. "Wow..." You finish his sentence with a lazy smile. "Yeah," Joel chuckles as he slides out of you onto his back on the towel. You already miss the feeling of him being inside you.

He wraps an arm under your neck and around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. You lay your head on his chest and rest a hand on his soft tummy. He lovingly lays his hand on top of yours and you notice just how much his large hand dwarfs yours. Basking in the afterglow, you both just lay together, revelling in this new found intimacy between you. For so long you've wanted Joel to know exactly how you feel but the fear of rejection kept your confession at bay. Even though there were times when you suspected that he might want more than friendship, you didn't want to push the boundary and potentially ruin the close friendship you'd both built. But knowing now that he's wanted you all along in the same way you want him leaves no doubt in your mind; You're his and he's yours. You can't keep the smile off your face, knowing you've both crossed into new territory and what this means going forward. It may be a little soon and some might even call you downright foolish as your next words flow from the heart with such conviction. "Joel...." you breathed quietly. "Hmmm," he answered in a low rumble. "I love you." A moment of silence passes and an anxious knot begins to from in your stomach, fearing you've ruined this moment by coming on too strong. But before your mind can spiral any further with doubts, Joel pulls you into him even tighter, tucking you under his chin and kisses the crown of your head. He sighs contentedly and whispers "I love you too Y/N.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller x y/n #the last of us

95 notes · View notes

covid-safer-hotties · 1 month ago

Text

Also preserved on our archive

A lot of good sources linked in the original article!

By Bruce Mirken

As the dangers of Long COVID become more recognized, the country's going backwards on preventing new infections.

While I’m far from the only person worried about Long COVID and our society’s general inclination to look away and pretend it’s not there, people like me certainly feel badly outnumbered. It’s beginning to feel reminiscent of how people with AIDS and their loved ones felt circa 1986—and maybe it’s time for the same kind of response.

For those of you lucky enough not to have lived through that era, by the end of 1986, AIDS had killed nearly 25,000 Americans, but president Ronald Reagan had yet to speak the word “AIDS.” His press secretary had joked about it and the White House press corps laughed. While individual scientists were doing important work, the bureaucracies running the NIH and FDA seemed very much to be in business-as-usual mode. Because the casualties had largely been gay men and injection drug users, it seemed like no one with any power cared whether we lived or died.

So, a group of New Yorkers – mostly gay men – decided it was time to start raising hell. Calling themselves ACT UP, they disrupted the New York Stock Exchange and, as chapters sprang up nationwide, they staged protests that shut down the FDA and NIH. Eventually, people like Anthony Fauci began to see they had a point. I joined the Los Angeles ACT UP chapter in 1988 and ended up getting arrested half a dozen times in protests at the LA federal building, the County Board of Supervisors and the U.S. Capitol, among others. We won major improvements in HIV/AIDS care in the Los Angeles County health system, which cared for thousands of people with AIDS who had no health insurance. When I landed in San Francisco in 1993, I connected with ACT UP Golden Gate.

Here I am (with my late boyfriend Tim at the left) at one of the protests in that L.A County healthcare campaign. Most of my closest friends from that era have been dead for decades.

I get that COVID has played out very differently than HIV/AIDS. AIDS ramped up slowly and seemed not to affect “normal” people until it killed closeted gay movie and TV star Rock Hudson in 1985, and even then officials largely looked the other way. Only scientific breakthroughs in the 1990s finally stemmed the tide of death. In contrast, the much more highly transmissible SARS-CoV-2 virus came on fast and furious, turning Americans’ lives upside-down almost immediately.

But now, we’ve arrived at what seems in some ways like an eerily similar place. When needed precautions to curb a highly infectious airborne virus spurred frustration and political pushback, officials largely threw up their hands and gave up. Even measures that don’t involve mandates or restrictions on behavior have mostly either been dropped or never happened in the first place.

LONG COVID’S GROWING TOLL

Unfortunately, the virus hasn’t gone away, even if the initial wave of mass death has receded. In August, as a summer surge peaked, US COVID-19 deaths exceeded 1,000 per week, though the latest September data suggests the numbers have begun declining toward pre-surge levels, when deaths were generally in the 300-400 per week range. That’s still equal to a 9/11 every eight to 10 days. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention tracking of SARS-CoV-2 levels in wastewater—probably the best data on US viral prevalence now that cases aren’t being reliably tracked—showed 15 states with “very high” levels and another 19 rated as “high” as of Sept. 19.

But COVID is not just a matter of cases and deaths. The disease’s long-term effects have disabled millions of Americans, and the numbers keep growing with each new wave of infection. An updated review published in Nature Medicine puts the current global number of Long COVID sufferers at 400 million and estimates the worldwide economic impact at a staggering $1 trillion.

We now have plenty of people experiencing repeated SARS-CoV-2 infections. The good news, if you can call it that, is that these reinfections may produce fewer new cases of Long Covid than a person’s first infection – but they absolutely produce some, and the Omicron variants circulating in the last year or two seem to produce more Long Covid than earlier viral varieties. Every time you get COVID, you roll the dice with your health – maybe for the rest of your life.

If I sound alarmed, well, I am. As longtime readers may know, I have some first-hand experience with Long COVID, though in milder form than many experience. My January 2022 infection left me with peripheral neuropathy—painful nerve damage—in my legs and feet. It’s incurable and nearly impossible to treat, as conventional pain drugs don’t help. I will likely never live another day without pain and walking more than six or seven blocks at a stretch is a struggle. I used to enjoy hiking, but will probably never do it again. Still, I don’t have the more debilitating symptoms like crushing fatigue or dysautonomia—disruption of the part of the nervous system that controls automatic functions like heartbeat, blood pressure, digestion and breathing—that afflict some Long COVID sufferers. Lots of people have it way worse than I do.

We know that COVID can have lasting impacts on many parts of the body, including the brain. A recent study of 52 COVID survivors—about half with mild to moderate initial illness and half with more severe disease—found that compared to healthy controls, both groups “had a significantly higher score of cognitive complaints involving cognitive failure and mental fatigue” 27 months after their original illness, with no significant difference based on the severity of that initial illness. On a series of tests, researchers found “changes in brain function” that may explain the reported problems.

Just as scary, a study of people aged 65 and up just published in the Journal of Alzheimer’s Disease reports that “people with COVID were at significantly increased risk for new diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease within 360 days after the initial COVID diagnosis.” This review of the medical records of over six million patients found that the risk escalated with advancing age. As with many of these long-term impacts, the mechanisms involved remain unclear.

Survivors of an initial SARS-CoV-2 infection also have increased rates of high blood pressure, now documented in multiple studies. High blood pressure increases your risk of deadly cardiovascular complications like heart attack and stroke.

I can’t help but wonder whether these issues have affected me, but there’s no way to be sure. My blood pressure, well-controlled for a dozen years with a very low dose of medication, began ratcheting upward about a year and a half ago, necessitating three medication adjustments since then. I’m also definitely more forgetful than I was, mostly little things like walking into a room and forgetting why I went there. But those things can happen to older people with or without COVID, and it’s hard to know cause-and-effect in a given individual.

But I sure as hell know I don’t want to get this virus again and risk these and other issues getting worse. Unfortunately, avoiding it is getting harder by the day, and neither government at any level nor public health authorities seem to care.

PREVENTION? WHAT PREVENTION?

While there’s some evidence that the antiviral drug Paxlovid can reduce the likelihood of Long COVID if administered early enough, the results so far are mixed and not overwhelming. The best way to avoid Long COVID is to not get infected in the first place. As a society, we’ve pretty much stopped trying.

The government is still encouraging vaccination, as it should. But it’s been clear for some time that while the vaccines are very good at reducing the chance of severe illness and death if you get infected, they offer only limited protection against getting infected in the first place. “Vax and relax” can prevent mass death, but it can’t prevent mass infection and an ever-growing number of cases of Long COVID, even if most people get vaccinated. And vaccination rates have been declining for a while, with a new Ohio State University survey reporting that only 43% of U.S. adults have gotten or plan to get the new COVID-19 shot.

And in a bit of absolute madness, Florida’s Ron DeSantis-appointed Surgeon General Joseph Ladapo has actually advised against use of the newly updated mRNA vaccines. In a post on Mastodon, Yale epidemiologist Gregg Gonsalves called this “beyond irresponsible. It is malpractice.”

Ladapo is an outlier, but even his saner colleagues around the country downplay the fact that we don’t have to limit ourselves to vaccination. It’s an airborne virus, so there are two main ways to stop it from spreading: 1) Get the virus out of the air, or at least reduce its concentration to a very low level, and 2) Protect yourself from breathing in any virus that’s in the air around you. We know how to do both.

Masking works, but the type of mask matters. As the Mayo Clinic notes, “Respirators such as nonsurgical N95s give the most protection. KN95s and medical masks provide the next highest level of protection. Cloth masks provide less protection.” Two and a half years ago, a CDC study found that those who reported regularly wearing an N95 or KN95 respirator in indoor public settings had an 86% lower risk of catching COVID-19.

Recently, during my first return visit to San Francisco after moving in early 2022, I met my nieces for lunch at the Ferry Plaza. It was a Saturday, Farmers Market day, and the place was jammed. In three-plus hours I saw no more than half a dozen people wearing any sort of mask, and only a couple were N95s. In my new hometown of Hilo, masking is only slightly more common. At the supermarket, I see barely 10% of customers and staff in some sort of mask. In some venues, it’s less.

A recent Ipsos survey found that half of Americans believe they’ll never get COVID again. Only 20% described themselves as “trying to stay as safe as possible.”

None of this is a surprise—people are simply responding to the messages they get from the people supposedly leading on health issues. The CDC promotes vaccination but barely talks about masking anymore; it acknowledges the value of indoor air quality but doesn’t seem to be doing much about it. In interviews, CDC Director Mandy Cohen regularly urges vaccination but almost never brings up masking or air quality and says little about Long Covid. Political leaders mostly talk about COVID in the past tense and pat themselves on the back for a job well done in prior years. The result is what you’d expect: Most Americans now treat COVID like a common cold, disregarding most precautions and not bothering to test when they get sick.

Back in 2022, when public policy on COVID was still relatively sane, the Biden administration published indoor air quality guidance and made congressionally-approved funds available that “that can be used in schools, public buildings, and other settings to improve indoor air quality.” It’s unclear exactly how much of that money has been used and for what, although some school systems have definitely made HVAC upgrades. But we’ve never had either enforceable indoor air standards or a coordinated plan to implement them. As Science noted in July, “The COVID-19 pandemic has clearly shown the vulnerability of society to the spread of infectious diseases. At the same time, with frequent outbreaks in elder care facilities and school classrooms, it became clear that it was a fatal mistake to largely neglect the recommendations of scientists and engineers regarding minimum standards for ventilation and indoor air quality.”

In any case, those federal dollars were aimed at schools and public buildings. It’s been left entirely to the private sector to do, or not do, anything to reduce airborne pathogens in supermarkets, theaters, clubs, malls and other privately owned spaces. Local groups like Chicago’s Clean Air Club and Austin’s Clear the Air ATX have tried to fill the gap by lending HEPA filters and other clean air equipment to arts and performance venues and other gathering places.

A RADICAL IDEA: DO WHAT WORKS

We know what to do. As Clean Air Club founder Emily Dupree and co-author Shelby Speier wrote in Sick Times in May, “We possess the technology to make public spaces safer. Studies show HEPA air purification and far-UVC lamps drastically reduce the number of airborne pathogens in a room and therefore lessen the likelihood of COVID-19 transmission. When combined with other layers of protection, these tools have the potential to finally make our shared spaces more accessible during an airborne pandemic.”

A key word here is accessible. Failure to address indoor air quality and other prevention measures makes public spaces seriously dangerous for those at highest risk, including the elderly, the immunocompromised and those with long-term health issues, including Long Covid.

Such simple, factual messages are rarely heard in official statements about COVID. “What I find the most frustrating about official handling of COVID and prevention is the lack of care, education, and honoring the science around COVID,” comments Clear the Air ATX founder and Long Covid activist Katie Drackert. “Telling people to ‘stay home when they feel sick’ for a virus that spreads asymptomatically? Well, they are just straight up ignoring science.”

Admirable as they are, the small, volunteer-driven efforts of groups like Drackert’s and Dupree’s are not remotely comparable to the scale of the problem. For now, people must take matters into their own hands. “In the year 2024, people still need to be wearing a well fitted KN95 or above for optimal communal and individual protection,” Drackert says. In the absence of reliable information about air quality in indoor spaces, she suggests getting a portable air quality monitor, which can be reasonably affordable. “High CO₂ levels indicate poor ventilation, which may lead to higher concentrations of aerosols that could contain the virus,” she explains. “Some air quality monitors track particulate matter (PM2.5 and PM10), which are small airborne particles. While COVID is smaller than these particles, high PM levels may indicate poor indoor air quality.”

Most of us can’t entirely avoid being in spaces with poor air quality, and that leaves us with masking, which the country has largely abandoned. Worse, we’re starting to see bans on face coverings in public spaces being enacted—for example, in Nassau County, New York, and North Carolina.

These laws typically contain exceptions for people masking for health reasons, but, as New Jersey’s Star-Ledger noted in a recent editorial opposing a proposed mask ban, “t leaves it up to the cops to decide whether someone has a legitimate medical reason for wearing a mask at a public gathering. “How will they know that? It’s subjective. And based on past experience, we know what that means: Police will disproportionately stop and question Black and brown people, who have also been the most likely to continue wearing masks to protect against COVID-19.” It’s hard to imagine a more demented public policy than making disease prevention illegal. And it’s not hard at all to imagine a COVID-19 prevention framework that would make a meaningful difference without causing a nationwide freakout: Encourage masking. Even if mask mandates are a political non-starter, there’s still plenty we can do. First, officials can talk about it and actively encourage people to wear high-quality protection like N-95s when in busy, indoor spaces. They can remind people of its importance—that COVID is not over, not just a cold, and that even a “mild” case can change your life forever. Federal, state and local governments could distribute N-95s or KN-95s free or at minimal cost. Get serious about indoor air purification. Build on what the Biden administration started a few years ago: Develop medically informed, enforceable indoor air quality standards and create a verification system so that people know when a building they enter meets them. Start with public buildings and the largest, busiest private venues, like sports arenas, concert halls and theaters, and move on from there. Give business owners generous technical and financial support in meeting those standards, and a reasonable amount of time in which to do it. While this program is ramping up, fund the local organizations now struggling with limited resources to fill the gap. None of this is that difficult. It’s not even that expensive when you consider that the federal government is in the process of spending $634 billion to upgrade nuclear weapons that with any luck will never be used. What’s missing is political will, and that won’t be there until people scream bloody murder. That’s why I think it may be time for a new version of ACT UP focused on COVID-19. The issues are somewhat different, but less so than you might think. While the original ACT UP focused a lot on research, treatment and care, it also addressed prevention. ACT UP chapters around the country started syringe exchange programs, handed out condoms at high schools, and sometimes succeeded in shaming the system into doing the right thing. And of course, there are issues to tackle around Long Covid research that I haven’t addressed here, but which I will try to cover in a future piece. The fundamental problem is much the same as people with AIDS faced in 1986: a system stuck in neutral, politicians stuck in denial, and a public closing their eyes, covering their ears and shouting, “I don’t hear you!” The first task must be to break the system–and the broader population, as much as possible–out of its present inertia, complacency and denial. I honestly don’t know whether ACT UP tactics like occupying the CDC and disrupting state and local health commission meetings will have the same effect they did decades ago, but at this point I don’t know what else to try. Nothing good lies at the end of our current path.

#mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #public health #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #wear a respirator #long covid #covid conscious #act up

33 notes · View notes