#i wonder if it's RSV

[salsa-ishida]

You know how when you tell people about some kind of weird dream you had they'll often be like, “haha what were you smoking??”

No. Fuck that. I haven't smoked or drank since The Seizure and my dreams have been at their most vivid and bizarre bro.

The setting: I have convinced my sister to play some sort of video game with me. We are all snuggled up in my bed with our controllers, solving various puzzles (one of which drains the entire IRL Atlantic Ocean. Don't worry about it that never comes up again). She dozes off mid-game because of course she does.

Beneath the bed, there is a Thump.

I try to shine my phone flashlight down into what I have for years now dubbed The Abyss, but instead of being able to see the general mess that typically resides down there, it is only blackness. A shadow lurches forward at almost impossible speed.

I jerk back and turn to attempt to wake my sister; she is gone.

On pure instinct I scramble after the shadow, which I am now pretty sure has abducted her. I manage to trip said shadow and my sister drops out of it, like video game loot. She is, miraculously, awake (this might be the most unrealistic part of this whole dream, trying to wake that bitch up takes way more than this). The shadow is on the move again, slower, clearly injured, and we pursue.

As we step into what should have been my kitchen, we see the shadow limp into the center of a nearly empty room, grabbing onto a large wooden podium for support.

The light streaming in from the window reveals him to be none other than Mitch McConnell.

My shock and alarm somehow summons Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, with whom I share a look that apparently telepathically communicates what has just gone down. She freezes him in place with naught but her gaze, and, for reasons that seemed very important, dusts the podium for his fingerprints…. with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. He gazes upon us, frozen still, with his sunken, forlorn eyes. He knows the jig is up. My partner appears to help, and he and AOC begin to drag the haggard wretch off to his fate.

He falls again.

And then I woke up and stared at the ceiling for a while. What the fuck.

Bonus:

[track-five]

Good on you for getting tested, but I hope you don’t end up having anything major!

strep was negative but they swabbed my nose for all the fun stuff (flu, rsv, pneumonia, covid), so i guess i’ll find out in twelve hours

[unveilandresist]

Got a glimpse of where we're at as a country medically via the r/nursing subreddit. People are really not okay and it's deeply scary. 'Letting it rip' when it comes to covid is killing thousands and disabling millions. With the latter, here's what it looks like:

Nurses saying they are seeing ear infections in kids all the time secondary to other illnesses (or routinely in adults which they have never seen before), nurses saying their hospitals are overrun by flus, rsv, norovirus, mycoplasma pneumonia. many people saying they went to the doctor sick as a dog and came out with 3 different illness diagnoses at the same time or that they and their kids get sick over and over and over. it is not normal for this to happen. we were lied to about covid, y'all.

have you and the people around you been physically as well this last year or two as they were in 2019?

If you didn't know, as a lot of people don't - covid makes you immunocompromised. It damages the immune system, blood vessels and organ systems. It's a vascular infection, not a cold. the more infections you get, the worse it is. In the lab it's considered a level 3 pathogen (categories are for risk level/safety protocols), in the same category as tuberculosis. People are being treated with IVIG, because it's for immunocompromised people.

Also there is improper preparation and tracking for a h5n1 (type of bird flu) that has a very real chance of evolving to become a pandemic this and/or next flu season. they are finding it in wastewater all over the country, someone in Louisiana is in critical condition with it. Flu vaccine provides partial protection to it so I'd highly recommend getting that this and next winter.

Following epidemiologists is really important and helpful. The government wants you to go to work and think things are normal so they don't have to send you another check - they are not invested in our collective wellness (in fact, they take tons of lobbying money from insurance companies invested in keeping you sick). With some of these folks saying it is taking them weeks to recover from the flu, I wonder if some of it isn't bird flu, though it could be just being significantly immunocompromised.

fwiw masks work. I haven't gotten as much as a cold in years. well fitting kn95s and n95s protect you. even if you can't wear one at work, wear one to the doctor, at the grocery store and pharmacy. it would really help disabled people in general too.

[mattsobvimyfav]

unknown

Y/N has always played it safe—balancing her job as a pediatric nurse, and her careful lifestyle. But one night out with her friend, Jordan, changes everything. When she meets Matt and Chris—two dangerous, enigmatic brothers—she’s drawn into a world she doesn’t belong in. But the more she resists, the harder they pulls her in.

p.2 pt. 3

chapter 1

Boston in the early summer has a certain charm—sunlight reflecting off the Charles River, the distant hum of traffic blending with the laughter of people enjoying the warmth after months of bitter cold. It’s home, familiar and comforting.

At twenty-two, I’ve checked off one of the biggest milestones of my life—graduating nursing school. Now, I’m officially a pediatric nurse at one of the best children’s hospitals in the country, something I’ve worked tirelessly for. My days are filled with tiny hands gripping mine, sleepy smiles, and moments of both heartbreak and hope. It’s exhausting, but I love it. Every shift reminds me why I chose this path—to help, to heal, to be there for the little ones who need it most.

When I’m not at the hospital, I spend my time buried in books, or going out shopping with friends, But if I’m not reading, chances are, I’m with the family I’ve worked for since I was eighteen.

The Moore family hired me as their nanny fresh out of high school, and somehow, four years later, I never left. Their two kids—Owen, now five, and Ella, two—have become like little siblings to me. I’ve been there for scraped knees, school projects, and bedtime stories, and even with my busy schedule, I can’t bring myself to give it up entirely. Their parents understand; they know I care too much to walk away completely.

My life is a carefully balanced routine—nursing shifts, nannying, the occasional days with friends, and nights spent curled up watching my favorite show or reading my favorite book. And yet, despite how full my days are, there’s a small part of me that wonders if I’m missing something.

Thursday night was another long one. I worked the second shift from 7 PM to midnight in the respiratory section of the children's hospital, a place where the air always seemed just a little heavier. The unit was full—kids battling asthma flare-ups, pneumonia, and RSV, their small chests rising and falling with labored breaths.

My first patient of the night was a five-year-old girl named Lily, who had been admitted earlier that day with severe asthma. Her mother hovered anxiously by her bedside, asking a million questions as I checked Lily’s oxygen levels and adjusted her nebulizer. I did my best to reassure her, keeping my tone calm and steady. It wasn’t lost on me how terrifying it must be to watch your child struggle to breathe.

After Lily, I moved on to a toddler with RSV, his tiny frame looking even smaller beneath the tangle of tubes and wires. His parents had stepped out for a quick break, so I sat with him for a few minutes, rubbing small circles on his back as he dozed in and out of restless sleep. Moments like these made the exhaustion worth it—being able to offer even the smallest bit of comfort.

The night continued in a blur of vitals checks, medication rounds, and hushed conversations with worried parents. Around 10:30 PM, I grabbed a quick snack from my bag, savoring the brief moment of stillness before heading back into the harsh reality.

By the time midnight rolled around, my feet ached, and my body begged for sleep. But as I clocked out and stepped into the cool Boston air, I felt something else too—gratitude. For the kids who fought so hard, for the parents who loved so fiercely, and for the privilege of being there to help, even in the smallest of ways.

It was now Friday morning, and I can already feel the excitement bubbling up inside me. The week has felt so long, but today is all about taking a break with my friend, Jordan.

I get up, stretch, and head to my closet, trying to figure out what to wear. After a moment of hesitation, I grab my white cardigan. Underneath, I slip on a black cropped tank top that I know goes with pretty much anything. Then, I pick out my favorite khaki mini skirt. I pair everything with my white converse.

I grab my phone, scroll through a few messages, and decide to head out early. The morning air feels nice, so I make my way to the front steps of my apartment and sit down, legs crossed. It’s quiet outside, the kind of peaceful stillness you only get in the morning. I take a deep breath, enjoying the calm.

I’m just scrolling through my phone when I hear the sound of an engine approaching. Looking up, I see Jordan’s bright blue Jeep Wrangler coming down the street, turning the corner as it makes its way straight to me.

I smile as she parks, rolling down the window. "Ready for our girl's day?" she calls out, her grin already spreading across her face.

"Always," I reply, jumping to my feet, grabbing my bag, and heading over to the Jeep.

I hop into the passenger seat of Jordan's Jeep. She pulls away from the curb and grins at me, her hands gripping the wheel.

"So, what’s the plan for today?" I ask, turning to face her.

"First stop for breakfast. Then, I need to make a quick pit stop, then go shopping" she says with a mischievous smile.

I raise an eyebrow. "A pit stop? What are we talking about?"

Jordan just shrugs, her grin widening. "You'll see. But first, we need food. I’m starving."

I laugh, the anticipation building as we head to our favorite café in town. It’s a little spot that serves the best avocado toast and strong coffee, perfect for getting our day started. We pull into the parking lot, and I can already smell the rich aroma of fresh coffee drifting out as we walk in.

The café is quiet, the morning rush already over. We grab a table by the window, and Jordan places our usual order—avocado toast with eggs and two iced lattes. I don’t mind—she always knows exactly what I’ll want. As we wait for our food, we chat about the week, and was in the middle of telling her about my patience last night when I noticed a couple of people at a nearby table glancing over at us.

Jordan notices too and raises an eyebrow. "What’s going on? You seem a little tense today."

I shrug, "I don’t know. Just feels like people stare at us sometimes."

She smirks. "Y/N, we clash pretty hardcore. I mean, look at us."

I roll my eyes, though I know she’s right. I can’t deny it—there’s something about the way I carry myself that screams "basic good girl." and she’s the blueprint definition of grunge.

Jordan nudges me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Relax. They’re just looking. Let them." We both laugh just as our food arrives. 

"Alright," Jordan says as she sips her coffee, "after we eat, I’ve got to make that stop."

After breakfast, we slide back into the Jeep, the warm feeling of a good meal still lingering. 

"Get comfortable," she tells me, glancing over with a half-smile. "It’s gonna be a little bit of a drive."

I nod, still curious about the “pit stop” she mentioned earlier. The roads blur by as we drive through neighborhoods I don’t recognize, the buildings getting more worn down as we leave the busier parts of town. Finally, she pulls up in front of a rundown house on the edge of a quiet street. The place looks like it’s seen better days—paint peeling off the siding, the yard overgrown with weeds. 

Jordan parks the Jeep and sends a quick text, her fingers flying across her phone. I glance at her, feeling a strange unease settle in my chest.

"Who are we meeting here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jordan looks at me for a second, the serious look returning to her eyes. "Just stay calm. It’s no big deal, I swear."

We wait in silence for a moment before the door to the house creaks open. Two guys, who look nearly identical, step out onto the porch. They’re dressed in baggy sweatpants and wife beaters, they glance to their left and right before walking over.

Jordan rolls down her window as one of them heads straight for her side of the Jeep. The other boy makes his way to my window, giving me a once-over before leaning against the door.

"Hey" Jordan says coolly, and I watch as they exchange a few words. I can’t make out everything they’re saying, but I know it’s about weed. I always knew Jordan smoked but she had never brought me to pick up her supply.

The guy by my window with dark hair and a cocky grin—glances at me, sizing me up. "Who’s this pretty little thing?" he asks, his voice smooth and a little playful.

Before I can respond, Jordan cuts in sharply, her voice low but firm. "No, Matthew. She’s off-limits. She doesn’t belong in your world."

I blink, a little taken aback by the way Jordan says it. The guy, Matthew, chuckles darkly, clearly not bothered by her words.

"Relax, Jordan. It’s just a question," he says, leaning closer to my window. 

Jordan gives him a hard look. "No, Matthew. Hands off. She’s not for you."

The other boy who’s been standing by Jordan’s side, smirks. "C’mon, Jord, let us meet the girl," he says, his voice more playful than Matt’s. "What’s the harm?"

Jordan shakes her head firmly. "No, Chris," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I watch the two boys exchange looks, their attention flicking between Jordan and me. I start to put their names to their faces: Matt with the easy grin, and Chris, who seems like he’s having too much fun with this.

Matt suddenly turns his attention back to Jordan. "You hear about that party tonight?"

Jordan sighs, her expression softening. "I’ll be there," she says.

Before I can ask her anything, the deal wraps up, and Matt gives Jordan a nod, Chris handing her something small. The air seems to shift as everything falls back into place.

"Let’s go," Jordan mutters, her foot hitting the gas as the Jeep speeds off.

As we drive away, my mind is buzzing with questions. I glance at Jordan, who’s still focused on the road, I can’t keep quiet anymore.

"Who were those guys?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, though I’m definitely curious. "Matt and Chris."

Jordan lets out a small sigh, and I can tell she’s debating whether or not to tell me more. Finally, she speaks up.

"They’re triplets," she says, her tone a little more serious now. "They have another brother who lives out in LA. The three of them—Matt, Chris, and Nick—are big-time dealers. The kind of guys you don’t mess with unless you really know what you're doing."

My eyes widened a bit, the weight of her words sinking in. I always knew Jordan was in the know, but hearing this side of her world feels a little... overwhelming. "Wait, so they’re like legit drug dealers? And you hang out with them?"

Jordan glances over at me. "Yeah, but don’t get the wrong idea. I know them from way back. They’ve always been around, but we keep it casual. I don’t get too deep into their business. I keep my distance."

I nod slowly, "And their brother in LA, is he in the same line of work?"

"Yeah," Jordan confirms with a slight shrug. "That’s just the way they roll. You’ll get used to it."

I don’t know if “used to it” is something I want to get, but I keep my thoughts to myself. My mind drifts to what happened earlier. The way Matt kept eyeing me.

"So, what about tonight?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. "The party Matt mentioned. Are we going?"

Jordan’s hands tighten on the wheel, and I catch a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "You’ve never asked to go to a party before," she says, almost as if speaking to herself. "It’s always just been my thing. You’ve never really been interested in it."

I raise an eyebrow. "Well, there’s a first time for everything I guess."

My heart beats a little faster at the thought of stepping into that world, but then I catch a spark of excitement in Jordan’s voice. She’s got that fire in her eyes.

"Okay," I say, biting my lip nervously but also feeling the pull of curiosity. "Let’s go get me a new outfit."

Jordan flashes me a grin, her excitement matching mine. "Perf. Let’s go shopping."

A few minutes later, we pull up to a little boutique in the city. It’s not too far from where we were, but it feels worlds away from the rundown house we just left. I follow Jordan inside, the bells above the door jingling as we walk in. The place is packed with clothes—bright colors, edgy designs.

"Alright, pick something that’s revealing and sexy. You’ll wanna fit in.’" Jordan says with a wink. "You need something bold. You can’t show up in the same vibe as that avocado toast and cardigan look."

I laugh at the little stray she threw my way "Okay, okay. Let’s see what you’ve got in mind."

We spend the next hour in the boutique, Jordan practically dragging me from one rack to another, pushing me to try on things I never would have considered before. She pulls out a black corset top that looks a little daring, with intricate lace detailing and a structure that feels way more bold than anything I’d normally wear.

"You’re going for something sexy tonight," Jordan insists, tossing it at me. "Trust me, this will make an impression."

I hold it up to myself in front of the mirror, considering it. "Are you sure this is my style?" I ask, a bit unsure. The corset is tight, the cleavage daring, and the fabric feels both delicate and bold all at once.

"It’s not," she urges, giving me a knowing look. "That’s the point."

I give in and head to the changing room. When I slip into the corset, I’m surprised by how good it actually feels on—tight in all the right places, highlighting my waist in a way I didn’t expect. I step back into the main area, and Jordan’s eyes widen.

"Okay, okay, you look amazing," she says, nodding approvingly. "Now, let's get you some jeans to go with it."

I follow her to the denim section, and after a few minutes, I grab a pair of light-wash, wide-leg jeans. They’re flowy, a little more relaxed than the jeans I usually wear, but they somehow seem like the perfect balance to the corset’s structured look. I hold them up next to the top, and Jordan gives an exaggerated thumbs-up.

"Yes! These are perfect" she says. "This is how you’ll fit in."

I grab them, along with a pair of mini black heels that match the edgy vibe we’re going for. They’re simple but have just enough height to make me feel confident, without being too much.

When I step out of the fitting room in the full outfit, Jordan looks me over, a grin spreading across her face. "Girl, you’re ready. You look hot."

I laugh nervously, standing in front of the mirror. "I don’t even know if I can pull this off... but I kind of love it."

Jordan raises an eyebrow. "You’ve got this. Trust me, I’ll be by your side the whole night."

"Alright," I say, taking a deep breath. "Let’s do this."

After we finish shopping, Jordan insists on stopping by a few other places. We grab lunch, then swing by a beauty store for some makeup essentials.

"Trust me," she says, tossing a tube of mascara into the basket. "We’re going all out tonight."

By the time we’re done, the day has flown by. We’re laughing and chatting about random things, and the excitement I felt earlier is turning into a nervous energy that I can’t quite shake. Every now and then, my mind drifts back to the conversation about Matt and Chris.

When we finally get back to Jordan’s place, she pulls into the driveway with that same determined look she’s had all day. “Alright, babe, it’s time.”

I stare at her, my heart doing a little flip. "Time for what?"

"Time to get ready," she says, hopping out of the Jeep before I can say anything else.

I grab my shopping bags and follow her inside, my pulse picking up pace. Jordan leads me to her room, which is filled with a mix of clothes and half-open drawers. She’s already pulling out a few items, and I can’t help but laugh nervously.

The next few hours feel like a whirlwind. Jordan’s apartment is a crazy mess as we rush to get ready. 

“Okay, sit down,” she orders, motioning to the chair in front of her vanity. I do as I’m told, watching her rummage through a drawer filled with makeup products. “Let’s make sure you look amazing tonight,” she says with a grin.

I glance at my reflection in the mirror, still not quite used to the corset top and the wide-leg jeans. The outfit is bold, daring, but I can’t help feeling like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. Still, Jordan seems so confident in it, and I trust her.

She starts with my face, prepping my skin with some kind of serum and moisturizer she swears by. I close my eyes and let her work her magic, her hands light but sure as she applies the base, blending everything seamlessly. My skin already looks smoother, more even than it usually does.

“You’re gonna love the foundation I got for you,” she says, swiping a brush across my cheeks. “It’s got this glow to it—makes your skin look like it’s glowing from within.” She finishes with a dusting of powder, setting everything in place.

I watch as she moves to my eyes. “We’re going for sultry, babe. Just big huge lashes,” she says, applying a thick coat of mascara, making my lashes look long and voluminous.

“Open your eyes,” she says with a smirk as she steps back to admire her work. I glance in the mirror and can’t believe how much my eyes pop just from mascara. 

Jordan then turns her attention to my lips. She picks up a pink lip liner, carefully lining the edges before putting on a pink tinted lip gloss

I smile nervously. I’m not used to this kind of attention. My usual look is… nothing. I’ve never done lip gloss or anything like this before. But tonight, I feel like someone else. 

“Now for your hair,” Jordan says, pulling me from my thoughts. She grabs a curling iron, giving me a teasing grin as she begins to curl my hair in loose waves. The heat feels strange against my hair, but the result is incredible—full, bouncy curls that make my hair look effortlessly voluminous. She finishes with a little hairspray, just enough to hold everything in place without it looking stiff.

By the time she’s done, I’m sitting there, staring at my reflection in awe. The outfit, the makeup, the hair—it’s like I’m looking at a completely different version of myself. The girl in the mirror looks confident, daring, ready to take on whatever comes her way.

Jordan steps back, inspecting me one last time. “You look incredible, Y/N. Trust me, no one’s going to be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

I swallow, my heart racing. “Are Matt and Chris going to be there?” I ask, almost hesitantly.

“Absolutely,” she says, giving me a wink. “and you're absolutely staying away from them.” She finished with a straight face. 

I giggle at her firmness. Jordan grabs her own outfit, pulling on a leather jacket and running a hand through her hair as she heads for the door. “Alright, You ready?”

I cheer a little, feeling the rush of nervous excitement flood over me. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Jordan’s Jeep rumbles down a dark road, the streetlights becoming fewer and farther between. The neighborhood looks eerily similar to the one we were in earlier today—rundown houses, cracked sidewalks, I shift in my seat, glancing at Jordan, but she looks completely unfazed, focused on the road ahead.

When we finally pull up in front of a house, my stomach twists. It’s a large, old place with chipping paint and music blasting from inside. There are people lingering on the front porch, passing around drinks and cigarettes, their laughter mixing with the heavy bass of whatever song is playing.

Jordan throws the Jeep in park and turns to me. “Alright, listen,” she says, her voice firm. “Stick with me, have fun, but stay away from Matt and Chris. Got it?”

I roll my eyes, unable to hide my curiosity. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

She gives me a knowing look before hopping out of the car. I follow, as we make our way up the front steps and through the open door.

Inside, the air is thick with smoke, the scent of weed and something else I can’t place. The place is packed, people spilling into every room, music vibrating through the floors. Jordan walks in like she owns the place, immediately getting daps and side-hugs from a few guys as we move through the crowd.

“Jordy!” A girl with long, dark braids grins and pulls Jordan into a hug. “I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight.”

Jordan smirks. “Had to make an appearance. Thought I’d bring my girl Y/N with me.” She pulls me forward slightly, and I suddenly feel all eyes on me.

The girl gives me a once-over and smirks. “Cute. You don't really look like you belong here, though.”

Jordan just chuckles. “Last I checked, you're not the one who makes the calls around here, thanks for your opinion though!”

I laugh nervously, as the girl looks me up and down again before scoffing and walking away. Jordan hands me a red solo cup filled with something that smells strong. “Drink up,” she says with a wink. “It’ll help you loosen up.”

I take a sip and wince at the burn, but I don’t complain. The warmth spreads through me almost instantly, and suddenly, the party doesn’t feel as overwhelming. Jordan keeps introducing me to people—some friendly, some giving me lingering looks that make me shift uncomfortably. But with each sip of my drink, I relax a little more.

An hour or so passes in a blur of music, dancing, and conversation. At some point, Jordan disappears into a crowd of people near the stairs, leaving me standing alone in the living room. My cup is empty, and the warmth in my chest is starting to fade, so I decided to get another.

Making my way to the kitchen, I squeeze past groups of people talking and laughing. The kitchen is slightly less crowded, but it’s still buzzing with energy. I grab a bottle of some kind of alcohol, about to pour myself another drink when a deep voice cuts through the noise.

“Didn’t take you for the kind of girl to be here.”

I freeze for a second before turning my head.

Matt.

He’s leaning against the counter, watching me with an amused smirk. His eyes flicker over my outfit, lingering just a little too long on the corset before meeting my gaze again. He’s effortlessly put together—black jeans, a fitted long-sleeve shirt, and that same dangerous charm radiating off him like a magnet.

I clear my throat, trying to keep my cool. “I didn’t take you for the kind of guy who lurks in kitchens.”

Matt chuckles, stepping closer. “I don’t. I was actually looking for a drink, but now I think I found something more interesting.”

I roll my eyes, but my stomach flips. “Smooth.”

He grins. “I try.” His body close enough that I can smell his cologne—something dark and expensive. “So, tell me, Y/N, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

I lift a brow. “You say that like I don’t belong here.”

“Because you don’t.” His voice is low, almost teasing. “You’re different.”

“Different how?” I ask, genuinely curious.

Matt’s eyes flicker to my lips before back up to my eyes. “Too sweet. Too… innocent.” His lips twitch like he finds it amusing. “It’s refreshing.”

I swallow, suddenly feeling like I need another drink. “Maybe.”

Matt chuckles again, shaking his head. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart, you are.” His voice drops slightly, the edge of danger in his tone making my pulse quicken. “That’s why Jordan warned me to stay away from you.”

I blink. “She did?”

“Oh yeah.” He smirks. “Made it very clear. Told me you're too good for me.” He leans in slightly, his voice just above a whisper. “And maybe she’s right.”

I should probably listen to Jordan. Every instinct in me says Matt is the kind of guy I should stay away from. But the way he’s looking at me, the way his presence pulls me in like gravity—I don’t move.

Before I can even think of a response to Matt, another voice interrupts.

“Finally,” the voice drawls. “We get to meet you without Jordan shutting it down.”

I turn my head to see Chris sauntering toward us, looking just as sharp as Matt but with a slightly more mischievous smirk. His eyes flick between me and his brother before settling on me.

“How about you come sit with us? Let us get to know you,” Chris suggests, motioning toward a worn-out couch in the corner of the room.

Before I can answer, Matt’s hand is already at my waist, guiding me toward the couch. My heart pounds as we move through the crowd, Chris leading the way, Matt’s presence heavy beside me.

As soon as we reach the couch, I start to sit down, but Matt subtly steers me to the middle, settling me between him and Chris. The warmth of their bodies on either side of me is immediate, a stark contrast to the slight chill in the air. Matt drapes his arm lazily over the back of the couch, fingertips just barely grazing my shoulder, while Chris stretches out comfortably, his knee nearly touching mine.

Chris grins. “Let’s play a little game. Twenty questions.���

Matt chuckles, his voice low. “You up for it, sweetheart?”

I glance between the two brothers, fully aware of how much trouble I might be walking into. But something about Matt’s quiet intensity and Chris’ playful attitude makes it impossible to pull away.

“Fine,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I’m game.”

Chris smirks. “Alright, I’ll start. First question—where are you from?”

“Just outside the city,” I reply, relaxing just a little.

Matt hums. “Explains why you seem so… untouched.”

I roll my eyes, but my cheeks burn. “Next question.”

Chris leans forward, resting his arm on his knee. “Biggest fear?”

I hesitate. “Losing all of my teeth.”

Matt’s fingers tighten slightly against the couch cushion behind me. “Interesting.”

Chris raises a brow. “What’s your guilty pleasure?”

I bite my lip, thinking. “Old romance novels.”

Chris groans. “Lame.”

Matt, however, smirks. “Nah, that tracks. You seem like the type who loves the idea of some brooding, dangerous guy sweeping you off your feet.”

I don’t respond. The look in his eyes tells me he already knows the answer.

Chris continues. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

I hesitate before admitting, “Probably this. Sitting between two guys I barely know at a party I wasn’t even supposed to be at.”

Matt’s arm shifts, his fingers brushing against my shoulder. His voice is laced with amusement as he murmurs, “Damn, sweetheart. That’s your craziest thing? We’ll have to change that.”

Chris smirks. “Alright, let’s up this. Next question—what’s your biggest turn-on?”

My breath catches in my throat. My instinct is to play it safe, but the heat from Matt’s gaze and the mischief in Chris’ expression make me feel bold.

“Confidence,” I say, tilting my head slightly. “But not arrogance.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “So you like guys who know what they want?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “But not the ones who feel like they need to prove something.”

Matt hums, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against the fabric of the couch beside me. “Good answer.”

Chris leans in slightly, his grin widening. “What’s your biggest fantasy?”

I keep eye contact with him, watching as his expression darkens slightly with intrigue. My cheeks warm.

“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?” I tease, trying to deflect.

Chris laughs. “That’s the point, babe. You’re the one who agreed to play.”

I bite my lip, contemplating. The heat in the room, the tension in Matt’s touch, the look in Chris’ eyes—it makes me want to say something I normally wouldn’t.

I take a slow sip from my drink, gathering my courage before answering, “I guess I like the idea of someone being completely in control of my body.”

Matt’s fingers tighten slightly behind me, his breath hitching just a little.

Chris whistles. “Damn. You might be more fun than I thought.”

Matt finally speaks, his voice low and edged with something I can’t quite place. “Careful what you admit around us, sweetheart.”

I arch a brow, feigning innocence. “Why’s that?”

Matt smirks, his arm brushing against my back as he leans in, his lips barely grazing my ear.

“Because we don’t play fair.”

tag-

(divider by @cafekitsune) @tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274

[thebluester2020]

I wonder how sdv bachelor's would react to you getting mad at them for forgetting your (relationship) anniversary?

Getting Upset At SDV + RSV Bachelors For Forgetting Your Anniversary (For the Umpteenth Time And You Decided To Leave Them For It)

Warning(s): Angst (Especially on Shane's part lol, I'm a hater), No happy endings, Reader goes in on Shane and Alex in their individual parts,

Side note(s): Ik you were probably expecting something decently light anon but I just remembered that I haven't ratted on Shane in a minute so I thought some good ol' fashioned angst was in store.

Also, I picked who I wrote angst for because I teared up thinking of writing angst for my favorite emo or writer. Still, though, I hope you like what I've written anon (and sorry it took so frickin' long 😔)

Shane | "Another Bottle"

You were so excited for tonight, you could hardly stand in place as you waited for Shane to get home!

Tonight would be your third year with Shane. A year that (in your mind) would symbolize the trials and tribulations the both of you had gone, as well as shared with one another. And for the last week or so, Shane had been talking almost non-stop about the plans he had for the both of you at the end of the week! He hinted at eating some fancy dinner cooked up by Gus at the Stardrop Saloon, and although he didn't mention it verbally, Shane had been spending a lot of time with Elliot lately.

The two had almost nothing in common so, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought of the extra things your husband was preparing for you.

Shane had also mentioned taking a walk on the beach at the end, and once the night had concluded? A nice wine on the porch whilst listening to a playlist of you and his' favorite songs.

All of it was straight from a dream, a fairytale even that...admittedly, you thought would never happen. Especially since...he had forgotten your first anniversary, the second one too—but, you were nothing if not forgiving.

You had to be.

Your husband dealt with a lot. He had mental health issues as well as a drinking problem that he was still fighting to curb to this very moment! When you married him—nay, when you first started dating him. You knew that you would have to be patient and constantly show him that you were with him through thick and thin, come Hell or high water. You'd stand by Shane's side and walk with him through any troubles he may have faced or had roaming around in his head.

Therefore, that's why, as soon as the clock in your shared bedroom ticked to five o'clock. You practically burst out of your bedroom and out to the front porch to wait for Shane like an eager dog waiting for its owner to return home after a long day! In any minute, he'd walk through the small gates that led onto the farm's property...maybe with a bouquet of flowers? A tired expression at first perhaps? One that would immediately melt away at the sight of you like it always did...you couldn't wait to see for yourself.

Six O'Clock

You had decided to sit down on the steps of the porch, constantly standing in a pair of heels was bound to hurt your feet sometime or another as you continued to wait for Shane to go through those gates. He must've been held up at work, maybe spending a little extra time getting your date ready! Something.

Anything other than the thought your mind was threatening to settle on.

No, anything but that.

He was late but you were going to have patience, after all, all the best things in life were worth waiting for, right? You were willing to bet that he was going to appear at any moment now.

Eight O'Clock

You had lost the bet with yourself, that much was obvious as you quietly took off the outfit you had put together for tonight and debated whether you should simply take a shower and go to bed or if you should comfort yourself over a nice glass of wine. On one hand, you wanted the former, anything that would help you forget this night but...this time? You just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

This would be the third time that Shane had forgotten your anniversary. Last year, you had let him slide with his excuse that he was caught up at work, even though he worked at a grocery store and the place had a set time for when it closed! The second year, that time around, Shane had claimed that Jas suddenly wanted to spend time with him! You wouldn't have minded Jas tagging along for your anniversary date, she would have made it more lively, so that year as well, you let it slide.

This time though...as tears started to well up in your eyes and your chest tightened. You didn't know if you had it in you to let another anniversary slide.

And that's when you heard the front door open and close.

Even from the bedroom, the scent of alcohol was strong and all too familiar. The lazy movement of Shane's footsteps...the way he groaned and grumbled drunkenly in search of you.

He had forgotten your anniversary...all so he could get drunk?

You saw red. "Where were you?" You immediately questioned your husband when you rounded a corner and into the living room.

There he was, lying down on the couch with the stench of alcohol radiating off of him. You clenched your fists so hard at the sight, that you almost worried they'd bleed. "Out." Shane finally answered.

You could feel a vein threaten to poke out as he slurred his words.

"Out?" You said in exasperation.

"Yes, out."

"I thought you were trying to quit drinking," You stormed up closer to him. Shane barely even flinched, you were hoping he'd give you something, anything that said he had remembered your anniversary but was just too drunk and stupid to remember it. "Why—"

"I needed a break from work!" He grumbled. "Get off my back."

"But—" You took a breath. "Shane." You continued. "Our anniversary...you—you promised." When that word made its way out of your mouth, Shane could barely give you the decency to look embarrassed. To look ashamed that he would miss his only spouse's birthday. The one person who had stuck with him through everything, listened to him when he was at his lowest, had made sure he was at Dr. Harvey's in a heartbeat the second you noticed he was too drunk to even stand. You had even gone out of your way so many fucking times to make sure that you had did some things for him, anything that made his recovery easier and swifter.

And what could he do to thank you?

Easy, begin to fall asleep on the couch whilst he still smelled of alcohol. Even as tears started to burn your eyes, he still couldn't wake up for you.

So, you decided that was that.

You wouldn't go through this again for a fourth, fifth, or even sixth time in a row!

You were done.

"...I guess you were right before Shane," You said to his passed-out form.

"You are nothing but a drunk. And that's all you'll ever be." You continued with venom dripping from each word before you stormed off to your bedroom. Immediately, you tore open the closet before you practically ripped and tore his clothes from the hangers, snatching pants and everything else he owned from the drawers and other places he kept his things before you carried them all to the living room before dropping it at his feet.

Still, he barely moved an inch aside from snoring obnoxiously.

You wanted him gone first thing in the morning and you wouldn't hear another half-assed apology or even an excuse that he was "still healing" or "just had a momentary relapse". It was a fine fucking time to have a relapse on the day you were looking forward to for an entire week! And you absolutely hated him for it.

But...soon you'd have your peace back, free of any disappointments too.

Once he was up and gone tomorrow.

Alex | "High Ambitions"

Alex's gridball career had been going extremely well as of late.

You always knew that his efforts, the constant hard work he'd put into the sport, would pay off one day. You always told him that! You just wished that...it wasn't at the expense of you sometimes, compared to how he was when the two of you first started dating, Alex was gone almost all the time. From sun up to sun down, he'd either be training or taking a bus down to Zuzu city at the crack of dawn in order to train further with his coach!

You didn't have enough fingers to count how many times you woke up by yourself. The spot where Alex should have been cold and empty, but Alex had promised you that he wasn't letting his ambitions and his budding career get in the way of you two! He'd always come back and hug you, stating that you were the reason why he was playing in the first place and trying to make it big.

All so that he could fund and take care of the both of you, deliver you a lavish lifestyle that would allow you to have more time to do the things that you and he liked to do rather than most of your day being spent with farm work and running around! And while that was all fine...your current lifestyle, was something you enjoyed.

And you enjoyed it even more when you did it with Alex.

Yet you had bit your tongue and nodded your head, you were happy for him and wanted him to succeed! So long as he didn't forget about you, you were happy and content. Besides, you'd have all the time in the world to make up for lost time with him tonight! It was your anniversary and the second he got back from practice, you wouldn't hold back from being a little greedy with him.

At least...that was the plan.

Until two hours went by.

He was supposed to be home at 8 o'clock.

Now? It was just barely reaching 11:00pm. And as the minutes continued to tick by, your anger at your husband only grew. He promised you that he would be home on time, that he wouldn't let practice take over you being his number-one priority. Clearly, that was one huge lie. However, as you heard the rapid jingling of keys at the door all of a sudden...you couldn't even find it within yourself to make up an excuse for him like you had many times prior.

No, it was clear where his priorities were as of lately.

And you weren't a part of them in the slightest.

"Y/N!" Alex called out as soon as he entered the house, his eyes quickly finding you sitting on the couch. Back straight and eyes forward, you hadn't even reacted to the sound of your name aside from a brief glance over your shoulder.

Oh, he knew he was in trouble.

"Sorry," Alex said bashfully, flashing you a boyish smile that would always do just the trick of melting your heart a little in the past. "I got caught up with practice, I scored three touchdowns today!"

"Do you know what day it is today?"

His eyes widened a little, his mouth opening to ask you to clarify as he desperately racked his brain. Only then, did horror wash over his features the second he remembered. "Y/N...I'm so sorry-"

You suddenly stood up. "Don't bother," You said sharply with a sigh. "It's the third time you've missed our anniversary!" You laughed emptily.

"All for fucking gridball practice. The same thing you told me wouldn't get in between us."

He rolled his eyes. "You know this is the one thing I've been working towards my entire life." Your husband huffed. "Why can't you be happy for me? I'm doing this for the both of us!"

"The both of us?" You scoffed. "You're doing this for you. I told you the second you started practicing to not let sports come between us, to at least take the time to remember me!" You shouted as you quickly got in his space, your chest heaving as your hands found their way to your hips.

"And what do you do? The exact opposite."

"Well, what about you?"

Oh, he was not placing the blame on you.

"You're always working on the farm, that or rushing off to the mines for the third time in a night!"

"How the- that's not the same! And besides, you're barely here to begin with! I'd rather be in the mines with the ghosts to keep me company than lay in an empty bed for the fourth night in a row!"

Your husband only blew you off with a scoff at your words, turning on his heels to walk away from the conversation. And that single act, it only made the pain worse. So much worse that...you couldn't even believe that you had married him in the first place. In the beginning, you were absolutely smitten with Alex, admiring his determination for gridball as well as his drive to be the best at it! Even now...you still want to support him at it, see him become the very best but...not at the detriment of you.

Not at the detriment of your marriage.

If he couldn't be bothered to remember the simplest things about you such as an anniversary.

Then it was best if you left the picture completely.

You took a deep shaky breath. "...Pack your bags tomorrow Alex." You said, your breath barely above a whisper but still loud enough to where Alex stopped in his tracks completely.

"What?"

"Pack them," You repeated. "You want to focus on gridball? Fine, but it won't be with me playing second fiddle to it." Then, you turned around to walk to the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hello! I've recently taken the plunge and downloaded Ridgeside village for one of my save files. I'm enjoying it so far and I am eyeing some of the romanceable candidates 👀.

So I was wondering, you know the ask a while back about the farmer being oblivious to all of the bachelor and bachelorette's being in love with them? Could you do the same with the Ridgeside characters? And maybe expanded?

Eyyyyy glad you liked the Ridgeside Village mod, dear anon ☺️

I've added both SVE and RSV candidates as well. Sorry if the headcanon came out a bit stilted (wasn't sure what the best format was lol). Thanks for the ask and enjoy 💕

RSV bachelors/ettes with oblivious Farmer:

After the young Pelican Town candidates failed miserably to win the heart of Farmer, who must be the most oblivious person in the world, the bachelors and bachelorettes of Ridgeside Village decided that their time had finally come. They're the ones who can get the Farmer's attention, aren't they? Oh, but they didn't, because they didn't count on two things.

First, there were still competitors in Pelican Town - it was just that the other residents hadn't immediately joined the "hunt". Although Sophia and Victor weren't even sure what was even going on, they just wanted to spend more time with their friend Farmer. Victor, however, tried to give a couple compliments, but the gist of the content of his words apparently didn't get through to Farmer. It's a shame of course, but both Sophia and Victor just get over it and just switch to their own lives (and maybe even each other). Claire also threw a loving glance in the direction of the eternally energetic Farmer, but due to uncertainty and constant fatigue she decided that she had almost no chance (it's not true, but *sigh*). Olivia, of course, could show all these young amateurs how to properly compliment and hint at the object of their affection, but feels it's not her age to go after Farmer. She will respect Farmer's choice, and may even push Victor toward Farmer a little bit so that her son will be more confident.

Second, Ridgeside Village residents doesn't really realize how painfully oblivious Farmer is. All the advances and compliments the Farmer (unknowingly) dodges like a spy film protagonist dodges enemy bullets and lasers. And Jeric and Blair will be the first to question their own flirting abilities. Maybe they should have been more.... assertive?

Standing nearby the restaurant, Corine, Ysabelle and Paula greeted the Farmer more flirtatiously, asking to spend time with them just a little bit more. The girls decided to play fair: to whom the Farmer would pay more attention - the winner. Except that Farmer thanked "their good friends for the compliments" and ran off on their farming business, leaving girls in shock. Paula at least laughed at the comicality of the situation.

Faye and Irene thought that the way to the Farmer's heart was through their stomach, so when the girls found out what were the favourite dishes of the daredevil of the entire Stardew Valley, they immediately began the preparation. The Farmer thanked them not with dates, as the two girls had hoped, but with... fresh fruit from the greenhouse. Shit. Okay, well, at least the fruit is delicious. Bryle, passing by, decided to tease Faye and show her the "real master of pick-up", since he himself had had his eye on Farmer for a long time. A complete fiasco, as you might expect, causing Faye herself to start laughing at her friend's failure. The two will then argue again (but will become a couple in the future, but that's another story).

Anton... Doesn't even look in the Farmer's direction. He wants to try, wants to give them at least one good compliment, but... Why? So that Farmer will be disappointed in him like his ex-fiancée? No, Anton won't risk their friendship for that.

Apparently Yoba itself (or other magical forces) are protecting Farmer from flirting, because there's no way they couldn't pick up on Daia's hints. The girl is almost directly flirting, proposing to become something more, trying to kiss and, pardon my language, "get them into the nearest bush for some fun." "Into the bushes? Maybe we'll find a cute bunny there!" ....Bunny, huh.

But that's at least some effort, though, because Jio didn't come up with anything better at all than to express his flirtation in the form of... completely ignoring Farmer. Like, the more he ignores them, the more interested they'll be in him. Weird logic, and then the grumpy will have a face like "Wait, that's illegal" meme when Farmer ignores his ignore (and Kiwi is now constantly teasing him).

Ian, Kenneth, Phillip and Shiro decide not to act without haste, but to learn from the mistakes of other candidates who have failed on the love front. Slowly but surely, they try to spend more time with Farmer without making any drastic moves yet. And honestly, even if they too fail to endear themselves to Farmer, a caring and loyal friend would be enough for them. Sean also wanted to take leisurely steps at first, but he didn't have the patience and so he heads to the bench with the other losers. Better luck next time!

Zayne is a rather well-mannered young man, and he is not going to impose his company on anyone without their desire. If the Farmers themselves approach him, then he will try to make small talk and apply all his knowledge of flirting. It's a similar situation with June, but he may be a little more stubborn as he, unlike the others, has limited time and will be less likely to do so when he goes back for two whole seasons.

Flor, Alissa and Maddie are pretty shy in that regard, so they'll leave the flirting and sighing heavily when Farmer walks by. It's just that Farmer is a very close friend to them all, and to demand anything more from them is somehow wrong. If only they would notice... *Sigh*

For Kiarra, the best way is to be herself: no intrusive flirting, no those innuendos. Just have a nice time with a (so far) friend and not worry about anything. And then - just ask Farmer straight out. Do they want to date? Yay, Farmer and Kiarra have become a couple. They don't want to date? Yay, Farmer and Kiarra remain best friends. It's simple.

Magnus, who decided to introduce Lance to Mr. Aguar, became unwitting spectators of an oblivious Farmer being chased by a crowd of admirers. It's a funny situation, really. Heh, maybe Magnus would have joined them, but he decided to let fate take its course. If he's meant to be with Farmer in this dimension, then so be it, but if not, well, just suck it up and move on. Lance, on the other hand, believes he's in charge of his own destiny, and his sly smile suggests that he'll take matters into his own hands once the competition has died down. He has a couple of trump cards up his sleeve....

...............

And somewhere nearby, the much-admired Lenny is sitting on a bench, eating popcorn and watching the whole thing like a favourite comedy show. "Huh, and they said there'd be no fun in old age!".

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Jess McAllen

The manicured lawn outside Nassau County’s legislative building in Mineola, NY, is a picture of suburban peace. But back in August, the chambers inside reflected a more contentious reality. On either side of the aisle, two camps arranged themselves: the masked and the unmasked. They were there to plead their case during an hours-long public hearing for the Mask Transparency Act, which would make wearing a facial covering to “hide one’s identity” a misdemeanor, punishable by up to a year in prison and a $1,000 fine.

The first member of the public to address the lawmakers was seventy-seven-year-old Wayne Hall, a former Long Island mayor and kidney transplant recipient. His main concern, echoed by many in the room, was that the bill would morph into another iteration of New York’s notorious stop-and-frisk policy, which violated the rights of hundreds of thousands of residents. “Black and brown individuals already face disproportionate scrutiny from law enforcement,” said Hall, “and will be more likely to be stopped and questioned, simply for wearing a mask.” Proponents of the measure, meanwhile, argued that allowing masks has enabled crime. Republican congressman Anthony D’Esposito, who attended Trump’s Madison Square Garden rally earlier this month, implored the council not to vote “in favor of hate-filled thugs.”

The bill, introduced by Republican representative and former IDF paratrooper Mazi Pilip, ultimately went on to pass the county legislature and went into effect immediately — with all twelve Republicans voting in favor and seven Democrats abstaining. Pilip celebrated the win in an Instagram post by decrying mask advocates as “the thug protestors whose aim was to intimidate, harass, promote violence and spread hate.”

The tense hearing was a snapshot of a debate playing out across the United States, as local politicians attempt to crack down on a fabricated crime wave by banning facial coverings. While lawmakers are promoting concessions for health and religious exemptions, the language of the bills themselves consistently shies away from the reason why masks have become so popular in the first place: Covid-19. The virus continues to mutate, and people are still dying; some seventeen million adults suffer from Long Covid. Meanwhile, traditional respiratory illnesses like flu and RSV continue to circulate. So it’s no wonder that many—especially people who are immunocompromised or living with chronic illness—want to be able to wear a mask in public.

In June, North Carolina passed a similar ban, and several other localities are looking to follow suit, with either proposed laws or talk of potential laws in Chicago, Los Angeles, and New Jersey. In the New York state legislature, two competing bills are already on the table. One, introduced by Republican state senator Steven Rhoads in May is seen as unlikely to pass. The other bill, which establishes the offense of “concealment of identity in a lawful assembly, unlawful assembly or riot,” was introduced by Democratic state senator James Skoufis on June 14. Two weeks later, a campaign called #UnMaskHateNY was officially launched outside Columbia University, the site of pro-Palestine student protests just months earlier, in support of a statewide mask ban.

Two Democratic lawmakers attended the launch: Jeffrey Dinowitz, who introduced a twin version of Skoufis’s bill in the assembly, and Brian Cunningham, who in September coauthored an op-ed for the New York Daily News titled “Unmask the cowards on our campuses,” which is featured on the #UnMaskHateNY website. (Cunningham, however, claims he is not affiliated with the group.) The lawmaker is advocating for specific carve outs in the bill, saying he will only support it if there are health and religious exemptions. “I grew up in Flatbush, Brooklyn,” he told me recently, “I grew up in the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s in New York City. People wearing ski masks, prior to Covid-19, weren’t greeted with hugs and welcomes from the neighborhood grandma, or anyone else.” When I asked if he would, instead support a simple ski mask ban, he reminded me that it wasn’t his bill. What about his thoughts on police using the law to racially profile constituents? “Am I saying that the bill is bad that’s in? No. Am I saying the bill is good? No. I’m saying that there is a conversation that this bill is provoking.”

For a campaign purportedly against anonymity, it has proven exceptionally difficult to determine who is behind #UnMaskHateNY. The campaign website simply states that it is “led by civil rights leaders, faith leaders and other diverse advocates.” So I reached out to the Anti-Defamation League (ADL), which has publicly supported the campaign and sent representatives to the launch. “We are a member of the coalition that is leading this effort,” a spokesperson replied, “but not the lead. We will have someone leading our effort follow with you directly.” (No one ever followed up.) I emailed the #UnMaskHateNY email, DM’d them on Instagram and Facebook, and even emailed Mercury Public Affairs, which under Facebook’s relatively recent transparency rules is listed as overseeing the campaign’s Facebook page. No one replied. Running out of options, I got in touch with Cunningham’s office to double check who had been in touch with him from the campaign. I was given the email of a man at the ADL, who also never replied.

Regardless of whether they are leading the campaign or not, the ADL isn’t holding back. “Anti-masking laws passed in New York were used to help counter the reign of terror of the Ku Klux Klan,” reads a statement on their website. “Now, it’s time to bring them back to counter masked intimidation.” This language is similar to a proposal by the right-wing Manhattan Institute, titled “Model Legislation to Modernize Anti-KKK Masking Laws for Intimidating Protesters” released in early June, which declares that “just as Ku Klux Klan members used white hoods to conceal their identities and terrorize their targets, modern activists are using keffiyehs, Guy Fawkes masks, balaclavas.” In an #UnMaskHateNY advertisement that has run on both Facebook and Instagram since late September, video of torch-carrying KKK members is cut with pro-Palestine protests: “Today’s hoods are masks,” a solemn narrator intones, “but the hate is the same.” The implication is clear: if you are wearing a mask, you are basically the KKK.

Those in favor of mask bans love connecting their crusade to the role an 1845 New York law—“An Act to prevent persons appearing disguised and armed”—played in stopping the KKK from openly terrorizing New York, but the original reason the law was created had nothing to do with the KKK, which was founded twenty years later in Tennessee. It was, instead, a direct response to a yearslong “anti-rent war” that started in 1839. The movement began when a group of farmers, tired of extortionate leases, went on the nineteenth-century version of a rent strike. They wore “Indian” disguises while disrupting house sales, resisted evictions, and tarred and feathered police officers. In January 1845, the anti-mask law was passed. This didn’t stop things from escalating: only seven months later, undersheriff Osman Steele was shot and killed by masked protesters when he was trying to help sell a property.

“There is no doubt that people can be more apt to act irresponsibly when their conduct cannot be traced back to them,” is one tidbit of wisdom in the paratext of Skoufis’s bill. Just like the Nassau County ban, the language of Skoufis’s legislation appears to grant police—famous for their unbiased and calm judgment—sole discretion to arrest anyone who simply looks shifty, just because they are wearing a mask in a large crowd. It’s unclear how this might play out. In Nassau County, there have been a few reported arrests since the ban went into effect. Among them: an eighteen-year-old who police say was “displaying suspicious behavior” and wearing a ski mask (upon searching him, police found a knife); a twenty-seven-year-old man who attempted to break into a house while wearing a ski mask; and one man who was part of a protest at the Young Israel of Lawrence-Cedarhurst synagogue in Queens and was arrested while wearing a keffiyeh. “Police on the scene asked him if he was wearing the garment for medical or religious purposes, which are the two major exceptions to the new ban,” according to the Nassau County Police Department. When the man said he was wearing it in solidarity with Palestinians, he was placed under arrest. (A federal class action lawsuit was filed against the Nassau County law in August by Disability Rights of New York on behalf of individuals with disabilities but it was dismissed in September.)

For Ngozi, a Nassau County resident who attended the public hearing in August and has an autoimmune disease called scleroderma, the threat of arrest isn’t new. “The reality is that I’m a black, disabled person, wearing a mask in public. I’ve always been marked,” they told me. “I feel like this is maybe the first time that white people are fearful of being criminalized for something.” One of the problems with mask bans—even with concessions—is that it puts an awful lot of trust in those enforcing the bans not to abuse their power. “People are like, ‘Oh well, there is a health exemption, make sure you have your doctor’s note,’ and it’s like, no, we should not be providing the state with ‘proof’ that we are disabled.” On top of this, health issues are not always obvious. “I have disabilities that are not visibly apparent,” Ngozi, who asked to only go by their first name, added. “Do I have to be in a wheelchair for you to believe me? Do I have to have crutches? Do I have to have an oxygen tank? . . . I’m very concerned about the impact of what a legalized stop and frisk looks like for disabled people.”

Sue, a senior who lives with rheumatoid arthritis, says her other chronically ill friends want to know why masks must be the visible disability delineator. “An immunocompromised friend who uses a wheelchair pointed out to me: ‘Mask bans, for me, are like banning my wheelchair. Masks have been part of me, my health care, and my life, for decades.’” Sue’s rheumatoid arthritis attacks her joints, as well as her lungs and other organs. She takes two different immunosuppressant medications, which alter her immune function and increase her risk for viral, bacterial, and fungal infections, so she often wears a mask while in public. “Even a seemingly minor threat, like the common cold, can lead to a serious illness in someone with a compromised immune system,” she said. “These medicines also suppress my immune response to vaccines.” For Sue, who also asked to only go by her first name, a mask ban would only compound the wider discrimination she faces in a society she feels has already left her behind.

As it stands, Skoufis’s bill, which lawmakers are hoping to advance as soon the legislative session begins in January, affects the right of people like Sue to go to protests or large public gatherings when we are not in a declared public health emergency. The proposed law dictates that it will be illegal for people to wear a face covering at a lawful or unlawful assembly or what the police consider to be a riot “unless they are wearing personal protective equipment during a declared public health emergency.” Since this is no longer the case, anyone who wears a mask for health reasons at a protest or large public gathering could be breaking the law. The health exemption language of the Nassau County law, which applies to facial coverings worn anywhere in public, meanwhile, is vague: “This law shall not apply to facial coverings worn to protect the health or safety of the wearer.” This has its own problems, namely that it will be on individual police officers to interpret both the law and the reason why someone is wearing a mask. Back at the public hearing in August, D’Esposito said the law would be “enforced by one of the finest police departments in the country,” but residents were not so sure. “Ultimately this law will be carried out based on one person’s judgment,” noted one resident. “More simply, is this masked person doing something I like or do not like?”

Many activists see the bans as retaliation for pro-Palestine protests that have swept the country in the year since Israel invaded Gaza in the wake of October 7. At protests people often wear masks either to support the health of their community, or to protect their identity from getting doxxed. The health exemptions prompted by lawmakers treat the issue as two dimensional: You are either a protester, or someone with ongoing health issues. Why can’t you be both? It shouldn’t be surprising that a person concerned with preventing the transmission of a potentially debilitating disease might also be concerned about the genocide in Palestine. In their proposal, The Manhattan Institute had already thought of this: “Someone who wears a mask for health reasons probably should not be congregating in large groups of people.” Aside from ignoring the otherwise healthy people who mask to avoid exacerbating underlying conditions or contracting Long Covid, the document makes it clear that anyone who has a chronic illness or disability is expected to stay out of public life.

Among the groups of people who are pushing back against proposed mask bans is Fight for the Future, who have launched a Stop Mask Bans campaign. One of the organizers, Alex, who preferred to go by her first name, said mask bans spotlight cross-movement solidarity. “They carry out the combined violence of public health abandonment, surveillance, censorship, and policing. If we truly want to beat them, we have to address their full intent and impact,” she said. “Otherwise, we’ll be fighting an uphill battle against so-called ‘exemptions’ to these bills that claim to address the needs of just disabled people, religious people, or those concerned about facial recognition.” She added, “Our call is for no mask bans, with no exceptions, because all anti-mask bills violate our fundamental rights to health and privacy.”

Decades ago, radical health activism looked like the Black Panthers screening for sickle cell anemia, or the Young Lords seizing a mobile chest X-ray unit and taking it to an underserved population in East Harlem. Those days are long gone, says Ngozi. “When it comes to public health, yeah, the greatest amount of solidarity was shown with protests against police brutality and specifically responding to George Floyd’s murder, but we haven’t seen that again. We haven’t seen it replicated. You have to consider that people were being supported with stipends from the government, people were on unemployment.”

Beyond the likelihood of discriminatory arrests, mask bans will have wider consequences. According to opponents, the passing of such laws will enable harassment from the public and encourage shop owners to turn away particular customers. “It’s easier for people to pathologize and stigmatize things like, ‘Oh, you’re a weirdo, oh, you must have OCD, you must have anxiety, you must have something wrong with you mentally,’” Ngozi said. Sue recalls former CDC director Rochelle Walensky’s 2022 comments on Good Morning America, in which she referenced a study of 1.2 million fully vaccinated people that found the majority of those who died of Covid had at least four comorbidities. “So really,” Walensky said, “these are people who were unwell to begin with.” People like Sue heard that message “loud and clear.” “The CDC is encouraged that only the vulnerable are dying from Covid now. Maybe that’s why people don’t care — they have received this message from the top down.”

The reality is that cops are unlikely to target a white person in a KN95, and even if a mask ban has a carve out for medical face masks, there will inevitably be unintended consequences that will hurt people. “Under a mask ban,” says Alex, “protesters are essentially given a choice: unmask and face Covid and Long Covid, tear gas, and the life-destroying consequences of public doxxing, or remain masked and face even more police brutality and surveillance.” These bans may be pitched as a solution to crime and discrimination, but they harm everyone by eroding the right to privacy and health.

[kickthecanrevolution]

So it looks like I’ve likely had walking pneumonia for four months? It’s likely after I got COVID, it turned into pneumonia instead of RSV. At my infusion my cough was so bad, I was gagging. It finally clicked for the doctor that I’ve been complaining about the cough for a long time but there were other more serious things to address, so I think they just pushed it aside. There’s a certain point where it became very difficult to advocate for myself because I was feeling so poorly, I felt like I was crazy. I knew something was wrong with my lungs but they’d listen to them, say they sounded clear and moved on.

This time it was different, I got louder about it. So I got a chest x-ray right after the infusion. Waiting for those results felt terrifying, wondering if I have lung cancer - that was one of the first things I asked when she called with the results and she said no, it doesn’t look like that. There is some opacity in my lungs which is caused by one of three things: infection/pneumonia, by something called radiation pneumonitis, or worst case scenario, lung damage from the chemo I’m on which would mean chronic lung damage and I’d have to stop.

They gave me a Z-pack - I’m on the third day and I feel so much better so it’s likely infectious or the pneumonitis that is helped by the anti-inflammatory properties in the Z-pack. I really hope it’s infectious, I have four more doses of this chemo and even though I hate it, it’s critical in preventing reoccurrence. I have to take all of it, I have four more doses (three more months).

All I know is my nose is bleeding less, I’m feeling more energy and my cough is getting better. I still might have to get a chest CT scan but waking up without as much gagging and choking felt like a miracle. That I might feel normal and healthy someday still feels like a long ways away but I’m feeling so much more hope this morning.

[angesaurus]

This weekend has me reminiscing about how I remember crying everyday during covid, being so stressed out about virtual kindergarten and working from home at my extremely busy and stressful job, with a baby who was admitted to the hospital TWICE with rsv (one time on oxygen the whole time), and wondering if life was ever going to be back to normal.

[elaho]

Last year, the creators of Ridgeside Village [RSV] were kind enough to reach out to me to do some commission work for their latest Mod instalment: RSV Spirit's Eve Costumes.

I'm both honoured and flattered to have worked with such wonderful people throughout the process and challenged to hone my pixel art skills even more.

Here is the list of characters and costumes I created for RSV below:

1. Anton as Han Solo [Star Wars]

2. Ariah as Amelia Earhart

3. Bryle as a football player [Zuzu City Tunnlers]

4. Faye as Ahri from League of Legends

5. Ian as Kristof from Frozen

6. Jio as Buddy the Elf [Elf]

7. Jio as Link [Breath of the Wild]

8. Kenneth as Sauron [Lord of the Rings]

9. Maddie as Kady Heron from Mean Girls [Zombie Ex-Wife]

10. Yzabelle as Odette from Barbie Swan Lake

Check out the RSV Mod for Stardew Valley on Nexus and my pixel art Commission Website.

Enjoy the Spirit's Eve Festival at Ridgeside! :)

[theculturedmarxist]

Eugenics is still the rule of the fucking day.

"People 65-plus and people who are immunocompromised should strongly consider masking during flu, RSV, COVID season while in indoor public spaces," said Dr. Céline Gounder, a CBS News medical contributor and editor-at-large for public health at KFF Health News. "And for everyone else — it all depends on what their risk tolerance is."

"Depends on what their risk tolerance is." Are you fucking kidding me?

CBS News chief medical correspondent Dr. Jon LaPook says he likes to use the "weather report analogy" for the general public. "What's the weather out today? If it's raining, you will probably want to bring an umbrella. If you are in an area where there is an uptick in airborne respiratory infections like COVID, flu or RSV, you may want to take extra precautions, such as wearing a high-quality mask in indoor public spaces," he said.

People should be masking up before there's a fucking "uptick." That's how you prevent a fucking "uptick". Especially considering testing isn't the metric the people in power are going by any more, but hospitalizations, which are always going to be lagging indicators. By the time the "uptick" is registered these diseases are going to have been present and active for days or even weeks.

After COVID hospitalizations climbed nearly 22% this week, the CDC is predicting further increases over the coming month as new variants spread. This replaces previous projections from the agency that admissions would "remain stable or have an uncertain trend."

Oh, cool, so things are already bad and the are predicting that things are going to get worse, but the decision is being made to not do a fucking thing about it.

In a 2021 "60 Minutes" interview, virologist Paul Duprex explained the current (and future) emergence of new variants — a concept applicable to the current situation. "Is there anything we can do to stop the virus from mutating so much?" LaPook asked Duprex at the time. "We can certainly stop it making as many mutations by stopping it infecting as many people - if we block its transmission, if we wear a mask, if we get vaccinated, if we do social distancing," Duprex said.

None of which will be happening because "Covid Is Over" and doing any of the necessary things to prevent it are voluntary at best.

After news broke about the BA.2.86 variant earlier this month, the CDC said the agency's advice on protecting yourself from COVID-19 — which includes wearing a high-quality mask among other recommendations listed on its website — "remains the same."

Oh alright let's see what the CDC recommends

In addition to basic health and hygiene practices, like handwashing, CDC recommends some prevention actions at all COVID-19 hospital admission levels, which include:

Ugh. At least its recommendations implicitly admit that covid is airborne.

Still, some experts fear it could be hard to convince Americans to don masks again even if COVID cases continue to rise. Dr. Danielle Ompad, an epidemiologist at the NYU School of Global Public Health, said "It's a bit like putting the genie back in the bottle." Still, she has personally started wearing a mask again recently in crowded places, where the risk of exposure is greater.

Huh, I wonder why it would be hard to convince people to mask up again. Who's responsible for letting the genie out of the fucking bottle? Maybe they should be taken to task for this fucking decision?

"If I were with people who aren't public health-trained, I would wear a mask, particularly in crowded situations, because I really don't have time for COVID. Mask mandates are challenging because they make people really bent out of shape out of proportion to the ask."

What people are getting "really bent out of shape" by mask mandates? Just "people" huh? No specific people at all? Okay then.

"Who wants to get sick while on vacation?" she says. "If you're going to be in a crowded public place — the subway, an airplane, a crowded theater — those are the kind of places I would at least consider wearing a mask."

Hey maybe these fucking super-spreader places shouldn't be open especially with multiple variants spreading across the country with no mask mandates in place.

Though increased cases and hospitalizations are prompting precautions, Gounder says she doesn't see another lockdown in our future. "That ship has sailed. Has sailed for years now," she said. 

"That ship" just sailed itself, huh? Another development with no cause and no active participant? Just up and sailed on its own, did it? And there's no one to sail it back? Man, that's crazy.

[secretlythepits]

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

What a year!

It was actually spectacular in many ways for me despite the enormous challenges.

_________Best of Times:__________

3 weeks in Bolivia

Salar de Uyuni

Brain improvement

The full force return of self-confidence

Finally understood self-worth

Deepened friendships

A week in Playa del Carmen

Mini break at Ormond Beach

Wrote 3 curriculums

Big improvement in marriage; communication & forgiveness

Established a meditation/poetry practice in the morning

Got both children enrolled in an aviation technical college

Home improvements: impact windows, tree trimming that was desperately needed, new roof on writing cottage, massive deck improvements, new lawn

Pink sapphire ring and repair on my engagement ring

Cousin visited

Bestie/ Cousin/ soul sister visited

Turning 50!

So much astrology fun

Lots of chances to tour beautiful gardens

Did not let the election results destroy me (I was so afraid of this)

__________Worst of Times:____________

Husband’s stage 4 cancer diagnosis and treatment

Tottering near divorce (beginning of year)

Sprained ankle

Pertusis

RSV

Gaining a significant amount of weight

Husband losing job

Teenagers being teenagers

Didn’t launch my company

The election results

*******

I think it would be easy to just write off the year and say it was terrible because cancer, but my life has a story that is separate and distinct from my husband’s. I am sure this was the worst year of his life and that affected me and colored my life in terrible ways.

But also, I closed a seven year cycle of suffering that began when my mom died and was followed by my brain injury. I think perimenopause intensified it all. It was just awful, awful, awful. Every time I clawed my way out of pit, I was knocked back down.

For 7 years!

Going to Bolivia, taking that leap of faith that I could handle it— hands down the best decision of my life. I restored myself to myself. I remembered that I was wonderful and capable, qualities that felt gone for good for so long. Inside of me, monumental changes took place. It changed the way I interact with the world. I feel more in control, as poised to surf the tsunami. I am not afraid to be myself anymore.

Watching my husband suffer was really hard. Getting very sick and watching him get so very sick was really hard. That’s what caused the weight gain (weight is a huge emotional issue for me, former ED). But honestly, considering how hard it was, I think I’ve handled it really well. I was able to help but also put some parameters around the situation to protect my own fragile happiness.

I am excited and daunted by what 2025 has in store for me. But deep down, beneath the surface jitters of anxiety, I know I am up for the challenge.

[boimgfrog]

Ive literally been telling stories since I was a kid if I was born in ye olde tymes I would have made a KILLING as a travelling storyteller and rhyme spinner. Though if I was born in ye olde tyme I would have also died as an infant from having my breath stolen by a cat (RSV) so I probably wouldn't have made it as a storyteller for very long. Still!! one can wonder

[nerdygaymormon]

Romance in the Bible is Queer

Romance doesn't usually enter the equation for relationships in the Bible. Not that people wouldn't learn to love the person they are married to, but our concept of dating, falling in love, choosing to spend our lives together and marking that with a ring and a marriage proposal is largely absent from the Bible.

The few times we see it something like it, they are queer relationships!

The first story of romance is Jacob & Rachel. When we first meet Jacob in the Bible, he chooses what would traditionally be feminine roles--he does the cooking and he stays home in the tents instead of out hunting or other manly jobs. Jacob first met Rachel when she brought her family's flocks to get watered from a well, which means she also violated gender norms because typically men were shepherds. Jacob was smitten with her, and agreed with her father to work for 7 years in exchange for getting to marry Rachel. "So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her" (Genesis 29:20 RSV). However, on his wedding day Jacob was tricked into marrying Leah, Rachel's older sister. Jacob agrees to work another 7 years if he can also marry Rachel. So here we have a polyamorous relationship with 2 sisters and their cousin.

Ruth and Naomi is a beautiful story of loyalty and fidelity, and I have no doubt their relationship would be held up as the epitome of what a good marriage should be if they weren't two women. Ruth’s vows to Naomi sound similar to modern marriage vows: "Wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you live, I will live. Your people shall be my people and your God will be my God too. Wherever you die, I will die and there will I be buried beside you. We shall be together forever and our love will be the gift of God." (Ruth 1:16-17)

Straight Christians tend to view them as two good friends and Gay Christians usually see a powerful love story, but more chapters of the Bible are devoted to Jonathan and David than to any other human love story. They became so close that it looked like they would one day rule Israel together, until Jonathan was killed in battle, which is when David declares, "Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women" (2 Samuel 1:26 NIV)

[nonbinarytoast]

I’ll always remember the nurses at the hospital I was born at. I remember little, but I remember shapes. Laughs.

I don’t remember coughing, but I remember loud sounds and lights flashing. I remember my mom yelling for the ambulance to drive faster. My dad told me he had called for a sprained ankle when the receptionist called a nurse over out of nowhere. Suddenly she yelled at my dad, asking who was coughing in the background. He told them it was me, two days before my first birthday, with a cold.

It wasn’t a cold. It was RSV, the leading cause of infant mortality in the US. She saved my life.

I remember tubes. I remember medicine. I remember white walls and my mom’s tears, wondering if I would make it. I was their miracle. The last child my mom could ever safely have. I was born with serious complications, but both me and her ended up ok. She had always dreamed of two kids. I was her only chance at another child.

I remember the mushy cake the nurses brought me. Their sweet but tired voices. Their laughter as my weak, diseased arms shoved that cake into my mouth full force. My mom had been asked how old I was. I was officially out of the danger zone and they needed to fill out my charts. She shook as she realized it was my first birthday. She cried so hard. The nurses called in favors and brought me a healthy, small, pink, mushy cake that I could eat with my little hands.

I remember my mom’s face when she realized I would be okay. I remember her barely held back tears when she held me in her arms without tubes in me for the first time in days. I remember how happy my Sister was to see me and our parents again, since she’d been staying with our aunt. I remember my lungs, soft and steady, breathing the way they were supposed to for the first time ever.

Those nurses are everything to me. The reason I’m alive. The reason I’m writing this. I know there are bad doctors. I know most just want a sense of control. But some of them take their oath seriously, and it’s about time we recognize them.

[thebluester2020]

[SDV] "Cheater"

Summary: SDV + RSV Bachelors(s) as the "side piece" Warning(s): Cheating! (The farmer's husband/boyfriend is just an unknown NPC in this case), Dubcon(?) (Reader is tipsy in Alex's part but still coherent enough to consent), Hints of emotional abuse on Sam's part, NSFW F I L T H, Degradation (on Shane's part), Slut-shaming (Also on Shane's part). Side note(s): Before I get the messages— Yes, I know that cheating is wrong 😭. This is all fictional and simply me being inspired after reading this one jjk cheating smau by @/nanaslutt. Also, I decided not to include Harvey since I couldn't imagine a scenario where he'd willingly participate in infidelity??? So sorry Harvey lovers.

Also, I REALLY wanted to add RSV! Jio into this but this whole thing was becoming too long as it was so- better luck next time 😔

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Elliot

Your relationship with Elliot started after you two met in a bookstore. A few days after your wedding night mind you, after that night passed, you realized just how boring and unambitious your husband was! All he did was go to his 9-5, come home, and eat dinner before going straight to bed!

He never seemed interested in touching you, much less showing you any type of affection.

But with Elliot? Every single moment with him felt as if you were in a romance novel. His sweet words combined with his gentle touches were electrifying, every single second he made it clear that he wanted you to all himself and that he didn't care that you were a married woman!

Of course though, you tried to deny to yourself that you wanted anything more than an emotional fling with him. Your husband was handsome...just a little lacking in the emotional department. Elliot was simply around to fulfill that.

But one weekend, when you had driven from ZuZu city to Pelican town to spend some extended time with him while your husband was out for business...seeing him shirtless was practically the last straw before you hopped into bed with him.

♡ - Elliot felt like he had just entered the gates of heaven.

He couldn't believe how long he had waited to have you.

Since the very second he met you in that bookstore...you had never once left his mind, even when he learned that you were married! The first time he thought about what you possibly looked like underneath your clothes, he quickly reeled himself back in and swore to never think about you in such a perverted way again. All until you wore a short dress that brought attention to your legs, paired with a cute pair of wedges that gave you an alluring sway.

Right then and there, his mind wandered.

Suddenly Elliot wondered about how good your body would feel against his own, just a simple touch and nothing more. Perhaps running a hand up your arm or even caressing your face.

Then...when you decided to sit next to him at a park, your dress riding a little too high up your thigh. Only then did he wonder what you looked like underneath your clothes, how good would your cunt feel rubbing against his clothed cock, how sweet would your moans sound? Were you loud or shy? He definitely wouldn't mind putting in a little extra work if it meant you'd give him a taste of what you sounded like...something that even your poor husband hadn't heard yet.

But now? As he currently fucked you inside of his cabin, he no longer had to dream or wonder anymore. Your nails clawing up and down his back as if you were an animal in heat whilst your pussy clamped so tightly around his cock that it threatened to make him cum on the spot! "Oh, my darling..." Elliot panted, his moans closing in on sounding more like desperate whines as he pressed a press right behind your ear as a hand moved from your thigh to cup your cheek.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," He continued. Every word was as if he were saying a sacred prayer to a goddess.

And in his eyes? You were exactly that.

A goddess.

One that was allowing her lowly servant to worship her body despite belonging to the arms of another. And that fact, the fact that you chose him over the husband you complained about so much to him...constantly stating that you didn't feel appreciated or that your husband treated you as if you were just another routine in his life. It only served to make him harder, to the point his thrusts increased in both speed and fervor whilst your moans increased in frequency and volume.

"N-Now...you don't have to go back to him, right?" Elliot said with a loving smile as he peppered your face and neck with kisses.

"You can stay with me," He kissed your lips.

"I'll appreciate you, treat you like you truly deserve my love."

Then he pressed another kiss between your brests.

You struggled to retain Elliot's words, the burning tight knot in the pit of your gut making you keen and squirm in eagerness and anticipation of your orgasm. And he didn't mind, not in the slightest. He'd fuck you dumb until you couldn't remember your husband, simple! So long as you continued calling out his name, so long as your husband remained far from your mind and you stayed in his bed just like this...he'd didn't need only a response. Only the heat of your warm slick walls on his cock, your moans and that loving gaze in your eyes.

The simple, non-routine things.

Sebastion

To start off, there was nothing wrong with your boyfriend. He was sweet-hearted, treated you well and made you laugh! But...he didn't have a job, he refused to get a job, all as he said under the same breath that there wasn't a single job out there that was "worthy of his time"! But in your ears? It just sounded like he wanted you to work, all while you were cleaning the house, as well as the main cook without a single smidge of help from his side!

The tension caused by this was clear.

And your boyfriend thought the best way to clear the air was by taking you to a start-up band's show downtown in Zuzu city!

It wouldn't fix things so easily but...you were stressed so you decided to go to escape your issues with him for a few hours at the very least.

At the end of the show however? While your boyfriend was talking to the only female member of the band. That's when you met Sebastion, your heart skipping a beat at how he looked at you with hooded eyes and talked to you so smoothly while he smoked a cigarette.

All too soon afterward, that's also when you found yourself in some alleyway while he bounced you on his dick against a graffitied wall.

♡ - The feeling of the rough wall against your back was electrifying.

The speed in which you met Sebastion, talked to him before you two felt comfortable enough to be fucking in an alleyway was practically lightning speed! But you loved every fucking second of it, slick pouring from your abused cunt as his hard dick plowed your insides, all the, while your arms were wrapped around his neck to both, stabilize yourself as well as pull him closer to further indulge in the feeling of his lips roughly kissing your neck.

"Ohmy—" You moan choked up in your throat when your lover lightly bit down on your neck, his hands on your ass tightening as he suddenly increased in speed. He groaned at the feeling of you somehow getting even tighter, the sight of his sharp gray eyes looking up at you through hooded eyes making you whine at the sexy sight.

Yet...for Sebastion? Despite your addictive moans and the way you pulled his head closer for more of his attention...the sight of your eyes constantly darting to the end of the alleyway? As if you were expecting someone.

He didn't know why but...it infuriated him.

So much that he tore his lips from your neck to practically growl in your ear with a raspy accusatory tone. "What are you looking for?" He panted in your ear.

"O-Oh—!" You gasped sharply when he thrust up inside of you suddenly, to call your attention back to him. "N-Nothing!" Half-lire and half-true, on the one hand? It was a struggle to keep completely focused when he was dicking you down so good, more so when the knot inside your belly was becoming impossible to ignore in lieu of your impending orgasm.

Yet on the other hand? Your brain retained enough cohesiveness to remember the fact that you had a boyfriend. One that could appear right around the bend fo the alleyway at any moment and see you being fucked by another man— "Hey," Once more, Sebastion lightly nipped at your neck, somehow speeding his thrusts up even more to where you had to throw a hand around your mouth to keep from screaming out like a wanton whore.

"Focus on me," He ordered. "I—shit—don't know who you're looking for but—"

"B-Boyfriend...oh fuck...!"

Oh.

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place.

The man you arrived with and seemed to be annoyed at every single time he cheered too loudly when Abigail had a solo.

The one he briefly spotted you arguing with here and there...however, although you mentioned your boyfriend with such a worried tone. Your pussy tightened, your walls clenching and unclenching to the point where Sebastion had no choice to assume that you enjoyed the idea of your boyfriend catching the both of you in the act of fucking one another in a dirty alleyway! "Dirty." He smirked, gently pulling your hand down from your lips, your moans quickly erupting from your lips.

"You should be quiet." He smirked. "What if your boyfriend comes around?" Once more, you clenched at the mention of your boyfriend.

A guttural groan escaped his throat before he pressed you closer to the wall, his orgasm closing in closer and closer at the idea of someone catching you two together. A shut-in like himself...fucking such a pretty woman who decided to cheat on her boyfriend in an alleyway, it was something that he thought only happened in bad pornos. "Unless...you'd like that?" He smirked.

"I don't mind, just continued being loud. Let him walk around and see how good some random man's cock makes you feel."

That did it for you, your orgasm suddenly rushing over you with such a force that made your legs shake and your cunt have a seizure around his cock. The feeling of your orgasm brought Sebastion to his own as he pressed himself against you until he was at the base of his dick, a drawn-out moan leaving his lips as he stilled until he steadily pulled himself out. He whistled quietly at the sight of his cum dripping from your cunt, up until he heard a gasp at the end of the alleyway.

He saw only a brief flash of something.

Perhaps an embarrassed passerby.

But he liked to believe it was your boyfriend, the same one you clearly didn't care about much if you were here right now cheating on him.

"Seems like your boyfriend caught us," He said.

"W-Wha...?" You said dopely.

"Doesn't matter," He swiftly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Since he already knows...wanna go again?"

Sam

Your boyfriend was mean.

Not to be the point where he was abusing you physically but emotionally? Most definitely, he was the reason why you didn't do a lot things in your life and was the reason why you were afraid to take a step outside of your home most of the time.

To the point where it affected your decision in terms of taking your grandfather up on taking care of his farm or not. Your boyfriend decided it was "best" to hide away the letter somewhere in the house, and you haven't been able to find it since. You assumed that was just how your life would be for the rest of your days until...you met Sam.

A golden retriever of a man whom you met when you happened by him and his band having a show.

You decided to watch from afar as you didn't have a ticket but once the show was over? You and Sam immediately hit it off, his bright personality and outlook on life was refreshing, the way he complimented you made you see stars almost and when you hinted at wanting a different life. He immediately encouraged you to go after it!

It was love at first sight for the both of you.

And when Sam suggested you come to his hotel room for the night, you didn't waste a single second saying "yes".

♡ - "You're so pretty..." Such simple words, whispered to you in a dimly lit hotel room whilst a show played in the background with the volume lowered. Yet...to you? Such kind words meant everything and the world to you.

It was wrong of you to cheat on your boyfriend, you knew and understood that so well. Your boyfriend was mean but...no one deserved to be cheated on, right? Even if the person in question called you names every night, threatened you with such cruel things each time you even mildly suggested leaving or sometimes even thought that it was a good idea to talk about themself to make you feel bad for them! It was the same tactics, every single time.

And they worked.

Until tonight.

After watching a start-up band's show from afar, you were entranced by Sam's music and how he looked on stage. How happy and carefree he looked while he played his guitar, even though there was only a handful of people in the crowd, he played as if it was broadcast to the entire world! And something about the sight made you want to get to know him more, to the point where...somehow. You were here, in this hotel being fucked so lovingly by him that it made your chest tighten and ache.

"So...so...so pretty." Sam continued to whisper in your ear as he fucked into you from behind while you both lay on your sides. Your leg lifted up as his arm reached around to rub at your throbbing clit. Each touch was gentle and tender, as if you were a porcelain doll that would break at the slightest bit of rough treatment. And you couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get enough of how his soft lips felt against your cheek and how he pressed himself against your backside so closely as if he were afraid you'd disappear.

"We should continue seeing each other after this, don't you think?" He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear.

You blushed deeply at the thought. "I...I don't—Oh...!" Such a cruel tactic, to distract your nervous thoughts with a sudden thrust up into your slick cunt or suddenly increasing the pace in which he rubbed at your clit.

"You sure?" A soft moan left your kiss-swollen lips at how tender Sam's voice was, as if he were a dejected puppy trying to get his owner to give him another treat. "You said you had a boyfriend right? He doesn't have to know...this can be our secret." He continued to speak, pressing more kisses to the side of your face as he increased the pace of your thrusts, the pleasure beginning to override any critical thinking functions in your head as you started to consider Sam's words.

In another world...if Sam were your boyfriend...you could be sooooo much happier.

You knew he'd treat you so kindly, would never utter a single mean thing about you or himself in order to get you to do as he said.

He'd always keep you in the forefront of his thoughts. A paradise on earth.

"C-C'mon—fuck—say yes, I like you....I realllyyyy do." He begged, a whine escaping him as his thrusts began to speed up, his pace stuttering here and there whilst his fingers worked more fervently to bring you to orgasm along with him.

"I...I can't do that to my—fuck!—b-boyfriend...l-like that!" You whined.

"He'll be m-mad!"

Sam frowned a little. "You're already cheating on him with some random guitar player you met tonight, you can't do anything worse." He whispered.

"Just leave him, be with me...please?"

You didn't know what it was, but the way he uttered such a sweet plea tugged at both your heartstrings and the knot in your tummy, a loud whine leaving your lips before your pussy seized around Sam's cock, your newfound lover panting your name hotly in your ear for a few more thrusts before he stilled with a grunt, his fingers continuing to circle at your clit for a few more times until you whispered your growing discomfort from overstimulation.

The both of you sat in silence for a few beats, your heartrates steadily coming down as the reality of your new situation came to light more and more. You'd make the call that you were officially leaving your boyfriend tomorrow, for the now? All you wanted to do was lay in your lover's arms and sleep until the next day...as for Sam however?

To have such a cute girl in his bed? Not to mention a, hopefully, new girlfriend that was as sweet as you?

He'd forever be thankful to Yoba that playing tonight in Zuzu city allowed him to cross paths with you.

Alex

To be fair to you, you were tipsy and Alex looked soooo much like your boyfriend! Handsome, strong, and tall. Adorable eyes and a voice that made you clench your thighs.

And to be fair to Alex...he hadn't a single clue that you had a boyfriend when he first met you. All he understood was that someone new had arrived to Pelican Town to take over the old farm about ten minutes away from town!

So, when he first laid eyes on you in the Stardrop Saloon....he was hooked quite quickly.

Long-legs and pretty, the deep v-neck dress you also wore didn't do good for his imagination either. He wanted to get to know you better.

Thus? He did.

But he should've had a clue that you had a boyfriend with how much you constantly called him a different name but he didn't mind! He would remind you of his actual name as many times as you liked so long as you continued rubbing yourself up against him. So long as you continued to whisper dirty things in his ear and smile so sweetly in his face.

And let's just say, when you lead him to your home. You learned quite quickly as to how to remember your new lover's name.

♡ - "See? Feels so much better when you're calling out the right name, right?" Alex cooed to you, sucking hickeys into your neck as he pulled your hips down onto his cock. The prominent vein along the side of his dick constantly teasing and rubbing against a sweet spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your voice go a pitch higher every single time.

And you couldn't deny that...he was completely fucking right. At the bar, you assumed Alex was your boyfriend! He looked so much like him and had the same mannerisms that you were shocked when he kept saying he wasn't your boyfriend! But in your tipsy state, you thought a game was being played on you. A game that you couldn't exactly decide if you were winning or losing at seeing how overstimulated you were from the amount of times you've cum up until now.

"Fuck—!" You cried. "Oh...I think—I—" Suddenly, Alex felt a gushing sensation around his cock, a smirk decorating his face as he moaned at the sensation.

"Shit," He panted. "That's the second time tonight, huh?" He smirked, licking his lips as he rose himself up to better look at your glistening cunt as a thick white ring started to show on his dick. You didn't know how but, you could've sworn that he just became harder.

"H-How are you—" Your breath caught up in your throat when his hand moved to play with your tits, cupping and squeezing him as a perverted glint shimmered in his eyes. "���How are you still hard...?! J-Just cum already!"

"Oh baby, I know you don't want that." He smirked. "You're fucking cryin' and moanin' for my cock like your boyfriend doesn't fuck you good back at home!" You pouted at his words, you had only known this man for...a few hours, at most? Yet he already pinpointed you down to a T almost! Even now, you swore you loved your boyfriend with all your heart and soul.

But Yoba, Alex knew how to make you see stars with how his cock reached places inside of you that you previously didn't even know existed! "C'mon~" Alex said to you as he leaned down to you, tapping the side of your face a few times to snap you from your cock-drunk state. "Say that I'm better than your boyfriend. You know you want to."

A moan left your lips at his request, your moans easily turning into yelps and cries of pleasure as Alex picked up the pace. His fingers reached down to circle and pinch at your aching clit as the combined sensation of both pleasure and slight pain made your third orgasm approach you rapidly. "W-Wait—ah!—j-just a break! Fuck!"

"Not until you say I'm fucking you better than your boyfriend pretty."

The second you felt his movements begin to slow, you cracked as easily as an egg under an anvil. "Oh..." You moaned. "You're b-better than my boyfriend. Soooo much better!" You continued to whine in response, slightly irritated at how Alex made you say such an embarrassing sentence, even as you were already so wet that your slick was soaking the bedsheets! Yet Alex couldn't get enough of it, of you and the fact that he now has someone new to play around with.

"We're going to have so much fun together pretty," He smirked.

"I'll make you forget all about your boyfriend."

Shane

He didn't mean to lust after his best friend's wife.

But you were too gorgeous to not have at least some wandering thoughts about. After all, so long as he didn't act on these thoughts, it wasn't bad right?

So since the day he met you, he'd think about how your legs would look wrapped around him. How sweet your moans would sound in his ear or how your breasts would feel in his hands. But, he knew these thoughts were becoming a problem the moment he started getting a hard-on just from spotting you or even smelling a hint of your perfume.

But as for you...you relished in seeing how your husband's friend lusted after you.

In fact, you preferred Shane over your poor husband.

He had a rugged handsomeness in comparison to your clean and perfect husband. From the small moments you'd spot Shane's hard-ons when he'd suddenly excused himself. He was bigger and way thicker than your husband too!

You begun to think that you had made a mistake marrying him so quickly.

And you decided one day, after visiting Marnie's farmhouse and realizing that Shane was home alone, that you would remedy that mistake immediately.

♡ - "Oh Yoba—!" You practically squealed into Shane's pillow as he plowed into your needy cunt from behind. "So dirty Shane~ you must've realllllyyyyy wanted me."

You talked wayyyyy too much.

That single thought ran circles inside of Shane's head as he fucked you, your legs flailing about from the pleasure he was delivering to you whilst a hand grabbed your hair and forced your head down into the pillow. Yet your talkativeness wasn't a bad thing he feared, oh no, he loved it. When you were with your husband, each time you spoke was like hearing a little piece of an angel's choir straight from heaven's gates.

Syrupy and almost like a siren's.

Threatening to lead him further and further down into the pit of sin, of wrongfully lusting after you. Yet...now? It was only encouraging him to fuck you harder and harder until your voice either gave out or until you were only capable of saying his name over and over like a prayer. "God, you're such a mouthy slut." He murmured, the annoyed bite in his words only serving to make you wetter as you smirked in response.

"Oh yeah?" You giggled cheekily. "You should do something to make me shut up—Ah~!" Shane shut you up with a firm thrust into your needy hole, a few more murmured curses slipping from his slips as he increased his pace as well as his roughness. You turned your head on the pillow to look back at him through the corner of your eye, neediness written all over your expression as your lip quivered with how much you wanted to continue to goad him into fucking you harder, rougher as if he were jealous of your husband.

You thought it was hilarious at how obvious his eyes were when he looked at you. You had no clue how your husband didn't call his friend out on his staring yet!

Then again...your husband was always so clueless.

If he couldn't catch his friend staring at his wife, even when it was going on right in front of him.

Then he definitely wouldn't find out about your little newfound love affair.

"H-How would your friend feel about this, h-huh?" You panted out.

"His best friend losing himself in his wife's pussy—Oh!" You giggled.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Shane's cock hit a sweet spot inside of you, his head tipping back as he lost himself in the feeling of your tight cunt milking his cock. "God—you just can't ever close your mouth..." He moaned, his pace stuttering a little as he pressed a hand into the dip in your back, making you arch as well as causing your moans to cut off in a choked whine each time his dick plowed into you. "So fucking tight in this position...I can feel that spot inside of you, the one that makes you go allll stupid for me." He smirked, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as steadily as he possibly could in order to try and delay his orgasm to further indulge on how it became harder and harder for you to speak.

Your cunt felt like a vice, he had to focus intensely just to keep from cumming! Suddenly though, your mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm washed over you suddenly, something that wasn't too unexpected due to the way Shane's cock was rubbing all the right spots inside of you, as well as the way his balls were slapping right against your clit.

"Maybe I should put a baby inside of you," Shane smirked. "How'd you react then, huh? Carrying another man's kid, eh?" He said, not missing how your cunt clenched at the thought, only spurring him to thrust into you more harshly as you whined and kicked your legs up and down.

"S-So meannnn." You whined.

"A-And yet here you are...being fucked dumb on another man's dick, fucking shameless." He groaned before he stilled against your ass, his cock twitching inside of you as you moaned at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your insides.

You whined in slight disappointment when he pulled out, all before he parted your ass to get a better look at your pussy dripping with his seed. "Damn," He whistled. "Guess you'll have to take this used pussy back to your husband, eh?"

"Or...you could stay with me."