#to know he isn’t abandoned. he tests people

[visibleclosedeyes]

Gap in my heart (Literally)

pairing: Mr. Gap x reader

“Hello”

While you prepare to work in your bedroom–doing your makeup and hair, putting on your uniform–ready for the day ahead, a chilling but familiar voice calls you. 

“Mr. Gap? Uh. Me not play,” You said without turning your head toward the voice. Since the day you managed to get out of that  Otherworld, Mr.Gap has consistently shown up in your space in the gap in the wall, in different containers, and so forth. At this point, you kinda have a domestic relationship together. Boyfriend? You wouldn’t go that far, but something is there. 

“Disappointed” Mr. Gap narrowed his eyes before asking another question 

“Where go?”

“Same place every day, Mr. Gap. Working. uh–Me work, same work.”

“Why?” He asks, eyes still narrowed–displaying an unreadable expression that you guess to be some kind of discontentment. It surprised you really–Mr. Gap isn’t a high-maintenance type and he never asked you these questions before. What changed?

“Uh…Work hunger gone,”

“Work stop hunger?” He seems interested now. 

“Not exactly. Work gives things, and things get food.” You try again to explain to Mr. Gap the concept of monetary exchange and bill to the best of your ability. 

“....not understand, residents don’t need work. Why work?”

“Humans need work, me human…Mr. Gap, why curious now?” You ask a question of your own. 

“Me bored, Stay,” 

“Can’t. Need work,”

“Disappointed” He responds, the conversation sounds like it goes back to the very beginning. 

“Give finger?”

“No,”

“Disappointed” He repeats yet again before disappearing. 

Working is hard. Living in the human world is hard. You know this already but it seems like every day her co-workers really remind her of that fact. Today is just another day of demoralizing work days. Getting yelled at by your boss because of your co-worker's mistake is not fun. In the parking lot, you are sitting there with a cigarette between your fingers contemplating whether or not to murder your co-worker, literally speaking. Suddenly between the gap in the wall opposite to you, a familiar pair of eyes pop up.

“Hello”

“Mr. Gap??! How did you..? Oh right, you can show up in any gap,”

“Human trouble?”

“Its nothing, just hard day at work,”

“Me solve problem, give me finger,”

“What? No! Not give finger,”

“Boring. Goodbye,”

Almost every day was the same old same old—your co-worker is an annoying asshole who purposefully caused issues just so he could blame it on you.

“Where are the documents the boss asked you to do?” Speaks of the devil… the most annoying face among the co-workers in this shitshow of a company has shown up like a fucking ghost the moment she starts thinking about her job

“What? What documents?” She answers truthfully. What fucking documents? And why is she hearing this just now?

“Seriously, the boss wants you to be the one to do it. you’re seriously irresponsible. Why did they even hire you?” He said with such a fake shocked expression on his face. Wait, so the boss told him…

"Boss told you this and you never told me?” she asked him in disbelief

"You never ask me to tell you, you should have been more active,” He snickers with a smug smile. Oh, this irritating fucker.

2 months and 1 week. She has sworn off killing people for exactly two months. Like a proud ex-addict, she wears that pride quietly on her mind, unable to announce how prideful she is for not killing some random pedestrians who show up in an abandoned apartment. She wants to keep it that way, but this man seems to be testing her patience. She is going to lose it and kill this guy on his way home. 

"There is still time left. You can take responsibility and be active for once. Give me a call once you are finished!”

your palms curl into a fist full of hate and rage–this man has no idea who he is up against. She fantasizes about the different ways she would go about killing him. Her regular method of a crowbar to the head would be the safest route but this guy is a piece of shit to her so far and she wants to do something special for him.

No, she doesn't want to kill these days. Hunting and killing seems to be a hobby she lost interest in a while ago. Now, she simply wishes for a more simple life after all those lives she proudly took. 

(not finish)

One day, when she was working as per usual–she hears the sound of that asshole screaming from the restroom

"I swear! I saw it there! a pair of creepy eyes between the crack in the wall inside the male restroom!”

"some pervert looking into the male toilet?”

"No! I…I don't think it's human–when I saw it, it just disappeared into thin air!”

"I think you should go see a doctor”

“Yeah, are you I'll or something? Did you hear a voice in your head too?”

“S–shut up! Stop mocking me! I fucking saw it, Ok?!” 

It seems like vacation comes to visit you early this year as she hears one of the best but most shocking of all week. Her asshole co-worker has decided to quit, it also seems like he has been scared shitless and borderline losing his mind at something that most people don't seem to understand. Many think that he cracked under constant pressure but she has a better idea of what might have happened. She didn’t think to ask of him at this current time but it seemed like he could read her mind somehow when she found him manifesting in her bag, a pair of gleeful, teasing eyes with an otherworldly smile somehow made her heart skip beats. 

“Mr.Gap!”

“Hello. Me good resident.” 

“I heard about the haunting spirit between the wall’s gap in the male bathroom—did you do it? The guy who tormented me quit”

“Me solve problems, me good resident,”

“Yeah, that was a good one. Good, thank you”

“Give good resident finger?”

“No”

“Disappointed”

[jjaysontodd]

The more I read Jason the more I’m starting to think he might have bpd.

[lustlovehart]

I'm more curious about the reverse!Monster au, how are the others test boys and Fellow honest and Skully are like in this version?

I like to believe they’re generally the same as the dorm leaders actually. Unlike regular Monster!Twst who have the 7 wonders as the biggest wanted bounty in the monster hunter field, as well as their pesky magic capabilities, the seven in Reverse Monster!Twst, are basically regular people who are just highly capable at their jobs. The same thing goes for everyone else, they don’t have the super abilities their monster counterparts have, so they’re regular people as well. I can give a general consensus on how all of them meet readers though!

Pairings: Fellow, Skully, Neige, Chenya, Heartslaybul, Savanclaw, Octavinelle, Pomefiore, Diasmonia x Reader

First however, We should go over the others, as some of them aren’t officially apart of the Monster Hunters. Also, there is 100% spelling errors in here, so sorry!! Reversed

These men are supposed to be Monster hunters… So why… Why do they act more fiendish than a Monster like you?!?

Fellow - A con artist on sages quarter who regularly scams people on the streets. Karma catches up to him when he finds you hiding in the shadows, attempting to sell you a fake artifact, only for him to catch a closer look at you, and realize you’re the monster the Hunter organization has been looking for. He should run, but the closer he looks at you… You’d be quite the attraction… Many people would pay to see the all-famed beast in a cage! Synopsis: To which Fellow pathetically attempts to catch you, realizing as time goes on, maybe there’s more to you than just money… Leading to his obsession.

Skully - The information logger of the organization. He doesn’t hunt any monsters down but collects info brought back to make records. He's been obsessed with knowing more about you, as your existence is shrouded in mystery. Imagine his surprise when he’s working late at night, only to look up and realize his (few) pictures of you are missing! His long limbs stumble over to search, he trips when the feeling of a monstrous trait lies on the ground. He’s prepared to run out when he stops and finally realizes who’s sitting there. You look down at him, your eyes following his every movement. Well now… Now that he knows it's you and not some random, how could he ever let those other Hunters defile you?! Synopsis: Skully finds the love (or monster) of his dreams in his decrepited study room! Now all he must do is hide you away from everyone else… But how is he supposed to do that when you won’t even answer what you’re doing there?

Neige - A support Hunter, who rather than do the hunting, acts as medical backup on the field. There’s not much to complain about when it comes to him, unlike the other factions. People like the 7 Highers and their upper ranks are looked upon with admiration for their skill, but in the same breath spat at due to their more than disagreeable personalities. Not Neige though, he’s the only sweet person in the field. This is why his co-workers are in shock when they succumb to their wounds, watching Neige tend to the monster who has practically sent them to their graves. Neige looks back with a sad smile, but when he turns it shifts to a smile with great joy. Synopsis: The only healer in the work field, realizes he recognizes you, perhaps from a dream, or maybe another world. But all he remembers is how much he strived to find you again in this reality, slowly abandoning his life, in turn, to live this new one with you.

Chenya- The weird citizen who somehow always finds you. No matter how many trees, rocks, or even heads you throw at him, he just always seems to come back with a smile on his face. He’s not a part of the monster organization hunting you down, but he isn’t normal either. All you know is his name is Chenya, and he wants… You don’t know what he wants but he’s always there! You wonder if he’s a monster too, but the way he answers no so casually tells you he is just a regular human. So why is he everywhere??? Synopsis: This human holds too much mystery to be sure of his motives, but one thing is for sure, he has a great interest in always staying by you.

Heartslaybul Upper Ranks- They find out about you when they follow Riddle one day on a private job. The moment they see him confront you they silently cheer him on, completely expecting their tyrant of a unit leader to immediately behead you upon sight. When he doesn’t they’re left in a state of confusion, only further enriching the feeling when Riddle doesn’t kill you, but cages you. You escape his grasp once more and all of them overhear the way he whispers.

“I shall not let you escape…!” Now they’re curious as to why Riddle is so set on taking you, not because of the rules of his job, but because of his wants. You’ve successfully swayed the strict Rule-Followers heart, it only makes sense his soldiers have grown curious about you… They scramble away when Riddle walks in their direction, though now that they look closer… Are his cheeks blushed red? Ace’s snickers immediately alert their leader's attention, his face instead red with anger. “Are you the reason they’re gone?!” They’re all quick to run as Trey attempts to calm him. Surely, it can’t be that serious, You’ll get that monster next time! Trey is the only one who hears Riddles's confession of not beheading you, but rather… No, this should be a secret between them.

Ace and Deuce - Officially meet you on a mission, where their luck randomly has them crossing paths with a disguised you. When that cloak falls, the beginning of their infatuation is sparked. They can finally see you up close… and now they finally understand why Riddle is so obsessed with you. Ace throws a quick smirk at Deuce, silently communicating a plan. They feign worry as they pose as travelers, worried about your safety. They’re lucky you assume them to be innocent merchants and not secret hunters. However… are merchants usually this close to their clients? They’re basically breathing on you…!

Trey and Cater - You sneak into Trey’s part time bakery on Sages quarter, attempting to try all the food you have never tried. The both of them are assume you’re just a random monster that showed up, giving them extra work. They’re proven wrong when they instead find you. They’re quick to put away their weapons and beckon you over with sweet promises.

Savanaclaw Upper Ranks- First introduced to to the idea of you when they see Leona covered in scratches and bruises, they assume he either went out on a mission, or something else entirely. Their suspicions are proven wrong when they quietly hear Leona mumble your name, kicking rocks as he plans his future trap for his prey (you, though, not even Leonas sure if he can can call you prey. The moment he catches you, he already knows he’s gonna treat you way better than the meat slabbed on his plate). They remember the name quickly, a top rated bounty. Jack is proud at their unit leaders strong strive that hasn’t been seen in so long, while Ruggies wondering if there’s a way for him to get some of that money. One thing is sure, Leona certainly has them interested in you too (accidently).

“Damn monster… Ruinin’ my sleep…” The two of them watch Leona glare at a flower. They think he’s gonna sand it down to dust. They’re thrown off when he plucks it and pockets with a swiftness that’s honestly funny. Now they need to know who has their unit leader so starstruck.

Jack & Ruggie - Meet you when they’re training. It’s pure chance when the leaves of a tree rustle, a body falling out of its branches. They rush over, assuming it to be an innocent towns person who most likely broke a rib or two. They’re frozen when the body picks its head up, the pretty sight of the most heinous monster in existence (you) blinking at them in a daze. Ruggie laughs as he leans you on his shoulder. Well, now he doesn’t think he wants thatbounty money anymore. Jack was never in it for the reward, but he can’t deny he thinks the same as Ruggie.

Ocatvinelle Upper Ranks- They’re already aware of you from the get go. They were both hiding behind a tree as they witness Azuls first meeting with you. So, in a sense, their first meeting with you was right then, beating Azul with dark bruises before fading into shadows. They never tell him about their excursion though, acting oblivious when Azul vents to them about his encounter with you. Ohh…! He really thought he could get you…! They nod along, subtly feeding into his confidence. My, and they thought he only wanted the status! To think you changed Azul from just one meeting alone… You are quite the entertainer.

“I’ll get them next time…!” Azul slams his fist down on the desk, his weapons clattering at the impact. Usually, he would care about such damages, it’s expensive furniture! But the look on his face is something entirely different, as if he couldn’t care about that fortune anymore. What would it matter if he can’t lavish you in it? He buries his head in his hands, glancing over at the golden conch on his table. Monster like shiny things don’t they? Perhaps you’ll come out to him when you see it’s glimmer. Jade and Floyd giggle as Azul scrambles to form a basket of glittery objects. Jade shines the gold necklace in his hand, it’s comforting to know they all had the same idea~

Jade & Floyd - They finally meet you face to face after such a long time of only knowing your elusive nature, all because they flashed diamond and gold in the moons light. Despite the way you snarl and throw insults at them, they don’t seem fazed one bit. “Ehh, Shrimpy’s kinda pretty up close huh?” Jade nods along. That uniform of theirs looks familiar... That slimy hunter..! Though… You think you might prefer him over these two…

Pomefiore Upper Ranks- Another pair (#3) who stalk their unit leader. Though, Completely unwilling for Epel. The sight of a disheveled bruised and beaten Vil is distraughting for Rook, he’s only narrowly held back by Epel who clings to him. He whispers warnings to the blonde, if you got out there you’ll die! But to let a comrade in arms perish despite being so near must be a much more horrible fate! He’s already pulling back the string of his bow to kill an ugly beast like you. But then, Vil ducks out of the way, the moonlight hitting you, and allowing both of them to see the sight Vil saw so up close. The bow drops down as Rook gasps. My... You are the epitome of beauty.

“How horrible…” Vil sits up from the dirty spot on the floor, dusting off his uniform. Rook and Vil are ready to run up to him, but stop when they notice Vil lift an object up to the light, a sadistic laugh of victory escaping his throat. “Yet amazing.” a bottle of crimson liquid illuminates with the moon behind it. “You and I, should be the fairest together.” he covers the glass container in a sack. “But first, I should strive to become much fairer.” Epel is left quirking an eyebrow at a teary eyed Rook. He doesn't know why… But he feels like Rook wants to both hunt you, and court you.

Epel & Rook - Meet you because of Rook somehow picking up your disguised figure in an overpacked crowd. You’re unsuspecting to the hunters that lurk behind you, wanderingly aimlessly in your next feast. You’re about to open your mouth and take your first bite of a meal, when a gloved hand covers your mouth and brings you into the body heat. A mysterious blonde man look at you with a smile while he tugs. Non non, your face would be sullied with blood! Our queen wouldn’t like that, right Epel? The other hunter nods, tightening the rope in his hands. Something tells you it’s not just Vil who’s determined to see your beauty up close.

Diasmonia Upper Ranks- They’re alerted to your continuing existence when Malleus bursts through the door, his overwhelming strength almost shooting the hinges. It's been a while since he’s acted like this. The first time happened when he first became unit leader, his cause of disarray being a sighting of you he missed by two minutes because Crowley kept the sevens meeting running long. It doesn’t take much to assume this next cry is caused by you as well. They’re proven right when Malleus tightens his fists, cracking the statue near the door with a strong hit. The utterance of your name proves them right. He takes a glance at the pictures of you ripped from books, each one adorned with a flower he believed to fit your aura in the frame. He turns back with anger and sorrow, walking away from the board.

“I finally saw them… But was it even worth it if I couldn't speak to them?” The confession leads to panic. Malleus… Finally met you? So… You do exist! They’re about to cheer for him, but remember his current unpleasant mood and deter from the decision. Though, the only thing left to do then is get you for him, is it not? They all collectively look at each other before leaving the chambers with great haste. Lilias laughing with joy, Silver is dazed yet still determined, and Sebek… Well, he views you with disdain, as you are a filthy monster, the things they’ve sworn to kill and protect the world from. But, you are the object of Malleus’s interest, so… He should most likely pursue you.

Lilia & Silver & Sebek - Meet you through a sucessful plan, where you glare at them from above the fire they have you dangling over. You’re shouting curses at them, hoping at least one will cast and bring misfortune to their lineage. You grunt in frustration when nothing lands due to your panic. Lilia tilts his head at you, questioning if this is really the monster blessed with the highest bounty in history, as well as Malleuses infatuation. Though he can’t deny it, he’s quite curious too, and he can confidently say the other two feel the same way. Silver is fully awake for once as he stares at you, even Sebek doesn't seem as uptight. In both of their minds, you’re a danger to Malleus, but you’re also his in the same breath, which is why... They feel so guilty for feeling the same way he does towards you. Lilia laughs as he swings you towards his arms, catching you with a strength unbefitting his frame. It seems you’ve captured both Diasmonas Unit leader and his uper ranks.

And perhaps… Maybe all of Sages Quarters key people.

To every ones misfortune, their traps fail and Monster!Darling escapes from them everytime, further increasing the missing count of Sages quarter, and perhaps the world.

[bruciemilf]

I know this is a DC blog but I NEED dad Logan. Get that murder teddy bear some kids ASAP.

Fancast + non canon Headcanons ahead.

BOBBY MY BELOVED / 16

“Sure everything in my life is terrible. But at LEAST I’m gay”

Makes pop culture references Logan doesn’t understand. “Logan threw the first brick at stonewall” “what are you SAYING” “he’s an ally”

Can, will, and has gaslight Logan into thinking he’s homophobic just for not letting Bobby do what he wants

Stole a beer from Logan once and they found him drunk crying at 3 am. He calls Logan to apologize about it. “I’m sO sorryyy. You know I love you??” “Go to bed” “noOoo” Logan is next to him.

Has a secret YouTube channel and everyone watches for Logan interactions specifically

Mabel Pines coded

KITTY… that’s his half pint your honor. / 17

Logan is terrified. Why are you such an easy kid. Why aren’t you rebelling? Why isn’t defiance bleeding on your fists?

Why aren’t you clawing and biting and snarling for your freedom? Why aren’t you being a kid? Who do I have to skin-

Daughters are not supposed to exist quietly.

I hc that Kitty’s family is extremely unsupportive of her being a mutant, — but they’re just traditional in general. Specifically she’s petrified of being around/existing along men.

Certified babysitter when Logan’s not around. She’s so big sister.

“guys!1!11!!!! mr. Logan said not to do that!1!1!1”

Logan BEGS her to be a shitty teenager for like 10 minutes. Be bratty!!! Tell him to fuck off! Throw a tantrum!!!! “But I’m not a kid.” “You’re MY kid.”

JUBILEEE daddy’s girl / 15

Problem Child TM

Plays Rock n Roll by Avril Lavigne at 4 am to piss Logan and her siblings off when they annoy her

Grounded all the time but if she fake cries Logan will shamefully relent.

Always puts Logan’s patience to the test because she anticipates him leaving/giving up on her

Foster child with issues. She spent half her life looking for people and the other half being abandoned by them. This won’t be any different.

Except Logan is very good at fighting destiny.

Your honor I don’t CARE Logan is made to be a girl dad!!!!

“On the spectrum. Not saying which one”

STRONG she/they energy

Most affectionate with Logan out of all the kiddos. Her love language is terrible pancake making (Logan eats them anyway) and cat cuddling.

ADHD icon

LAURA (murder baby) / 7

Brings dead birds/mice to her family members (affectionate)

Charles has the bright idea to enroll her in school with the kids. “It’s important for children to socialize with peers their own ages.” “Can’t socialize if they’re all DEAD.”

That meme of the little boy and his father with an arrow in his shoulder

Youngest child privilege

Steals Bobby’s phone and shoot’s hilariously off angle family vlogs. One of them includes her stealing Logan’s motorcycle while he runs after her

[p0orbaby]

Meet Cute

summary: it was always meant to be

warnings: just fluff for this one

a/n: probably my favourite pairing of mine to write

word count: 1.4k

-

Leah Williamson is not your type. This, you decide the moment you spot her from across the ballroom, swiping a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray.

You’re aware she’s famous, which is typically a red flag for you. Infamous in your world, where all the proper names are whispered behind manicured hands and anything resembling normalcy is held with the same disdain as a counterfeit handbag. Leah Williamson is an athlete, which in your circles is roughly akin to being an overpaid circus act.

But what really gives you pause is her haircut.

Short, blonde, not-quite-pixie. She looks like she’s wandered in here by mistake, a traveler who’s taken the wrong exit on the motorway and ended up in a place where the speed limit is fifty miles under what she’s used to. You half-expect her to pull out a map and ask someone the quickest way back to civilisation. Instead, she tips her head back and downs the champagne like it’s water, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and you’re immediately in love.

Of course, you won’t admit this, even under threat of being forced to wear last season’s Chanel. Love, in your world, is about as fashionable as pleather.

Your grandmother, God rest her weary soul, once said, “You’ll know it’s love when you’re willing to risk wearing nude tights for them.” Nude tights, in her book, being one of the greatest crimes against humanity. You’re not sure you’re there yet, but the idea doesn’t fill you with as much dread as it would have this morning.

But you digress. You’re here at this godforsaken gala because your father insists on parading you like a prize cow before other old-money families, hoping you’ll marry someone with a suitable lineage. You’re twenty-six and your father has begun to suspect you might have, as he put it, “alternative preferences.” This is his way of reminding you that lineage is everything, and falling for someone without a trust fund is tantamount to treason.

So here you are, in a dress that costs more than most people’s cars, standing next to the dessert table and pretending the caviar blinis don’t taste like expensive regret. Across the room, Leah is now juggling her champagne glass and a miniature beef Wellington, and she seems to be losing.

You decide to rescue her. Or rather, you decide to rescue yourself from having to listen to Lord Farnsworth’s lecture on the importance of preserving the family crest for the fifteenth time this evening.

“Having fun?” you ask when you reach her, which is a stupid question because of course she isn’t. Nobody is having fun here.

She turns to you, and for a moment, you’re convinced she’s going to hand you her beef Wellington like you’re the help. Instead, she gives you a smile so dry you could use it to exfoliate.

“Are you?” she asks, and her voice is lower than you expected, with that clipped accent that tells you she’s from somewhere north of where people have indoor pools.

You shrug, because you don’t really know how to answer that without resorting to a level of honesty that would make your therapist proud but your mother faint.

“I’ve had root canals that were more enjoyable,” you say, and she laughs, a short bark of a sound that seems to surprise even her.

“Fair,” she says, and you feel like you’ve passed some sort of test.

“So what brings you to the seventh circle of hell?” you ask, watching as she abandons her beef Wellington on a passing waiter’s tray like she’s releasing a burden into the wild.

“I was invited,” she says, as though that explains everything, and maybe it does. Maybe she’s been told, like you have, that there are some invitations you just don’t turn down. Even if they come with the risk of being cornered by Lord Farnsworth and his endless tirade about how the current generation is ruining the art of fox hunting.

“Ah,” you say, because you understand that language. “That explains the face”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve been making all night,” you say, trying to demonstrate by contorting your own face into what you hope is an accurate imitation.

She grins again, and it occurs to you that Leah Williamson might be one of those rare people who looks more attractive when they’re amused. Most people, in your experience, become grotesque when they’re laughing, all exposed gums and teeth that are never as straight as they should be. But her face lights up in a way that suggests she doesn’t find the world half as disappointing as you do.

“And what face have you been making?” she asks, leaning in a little closer, and you catch a whiff of her perfume—something that’s probably advertised with shots of people running through fields of lavender, but on her, it smells like trouble.

You gesture vaguely. “It’s somewhere between ‘bored out of my skull’ and ‘I can’t believe I’m not getting paid for this’”

“I’ll have to try that one,” she says, glancing over at Lord Farnsworth, who seems to have set his sights on you again, the poor man. “But I’ll need some pointers”

“First, you need to perfect the art of the disinterested nod,” you say, demonstrating. “Like you’re listening, but you’ve also just remembered you left the oven on”

She mimics you, and it’s terrible, but you applaud her effort anyway.

“Close enough,” you say. “Next, you have to practice the well-timed yawn. Not too obvious, but just enough to suggest you’ve heard all this before”

She pretends to yawn, and it’s so exaggerated that a few people around you turn to look.

“Subtlety is key,” you remind her.

“I’ll work on it,” she says, her grin widening as though she’s actually enjoying herself now, which is against all logic.

“And finally,” you say, feeling suddenly bold, “you have to perfect the getaway”

“The getaway?”

“Yeah,” you say, glancing at Lord Farnsworth, who is now being temporarily distracted by some poor woman in pearls. “Like this”

You grab her by the arm and start walking, weaving your way through the crowd with the precision of someone who has been doing this their whole life. She doesn’t resist, though she does give you a curious look as you lead her past your father, who is deep in conversation with someone equally dull.

You find yourself in the courtyard, where the air is cooler and the moon is doing its best impression of a romantic comedy backdrop. Leah stops and looks up at the sky, as though she’s surprised to find it there.

“Nice,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s talking about the view or the escape route.

“Much better than listening to Lord Farnsworth,” you say, and she turns to you with that smile again, the one that’s starting to feel dangerously like an invitation.

“So,” she says, as if continuing a conversation you didn’t know you were having, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The question is so cliché it should make you cringe, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you find yourself saying, “I’m here because I lost a bet with Satan”

She chuckles, a low rumble in her chest that makes you feel like you’ve won something. “And what did you bet on?”

“That I could get through this evening without wanting to jump into traffic,” you say, and she laughs again, this time a little louder.

“I think you lost that bet the moment you saw the guest list,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“So what about you?” you ask, genuinely curious now. “Why are you here?”

“Because I was invited,” she repeats, but this time, there’s something else in her tone, something that makes you think she’s not just talking about the gala.

You want to ask her what she means, but you don’t. Instead, you reach out and take her hand, surprising both of you.

“Let’s make another bet,” you say, feeling a strange kind of thrill, like you’re standing on the edge of something.

“What kind of bet?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly, but there’s a glint in them that makes you think she’s game.

“That we can get through the rest of this evening without wanting to jump into traffic,” you say, squeezing her hand just a little.

She considers this for a moment, then grins. “You’re on”

And just like that, the evening shifts. The gala, the people, the expectations—they all fade into the background as you and Leah step into something that feels suspiciously like possibility.

You don’t know where this is going, but for the first time in a long time, you’re excited to find out. And maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to risk wearing nude tights for her. But only if you lose the bet.

[milliumizoomi]

Hi, I was thinking Armando Ateras x Reader. So let’s just say that Reader is half human and half vampire and she controls her thirst but she still needs to feed but the hospital is closed down. When Armando came home, he noticed that the house is completely quiet and he saw Reader on the bed back turn and was breathing heavily. He walked towards her and he noticed that her eyes were brown and dark and has dark circles under her eyes and he asked what is wrong and told him that she needs to feed but the hospital is closed down. So Armando offers her to feed off from him but she says no quickly but still lets her feed. :)

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

☆彡SUMMARY.; You’re so thirsty, and yet you can’t take the help he’s offering.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO x HALFVAMP!READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; ONE SHOT

☆彡GENRE.; SLIGHT CRACK + ANGST (if you squint) + FLUFF

☆彡WARNINGS.; Mentions of Blood, Mentions of human testing, Child Abandonment, Mentions of Death, Biting, + Mature Language

☆彡NOTES.; Thank you sooo much for the request and I’m sorry it took so long, it took me 3 days to edit this🧍🏽‍♀️,, it was kicking my ass fr but I had fun writing it since I don’t think I’ve ever written something like this before. I hope yall enjoyyyy!!🥰🥰

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🧛🏽‍♀️.

🎧FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE, YOU CAN LISTEN TO SORROWS by BRYSON TILLER🎧

Death.

So this is what this dreaded thing feels like.

It had felt like years, centuries even you’ve been at home feeling pain beyond what you believe to be normal.

Put it simply, you’re thirsty as shit and the only thing that you can drink to ease it a little you have nothing of.

Blood.

With you being half vampire and all, it’d make sense that’d be the only thing you can even think of drinking.

The backstory of you being or becoming a vampire is definitely not a pretty one. You were tested in from an early age. Your shit parents sold you off for a couple grubby dollars because they could. They just didn’t want to take care of you, so what better way to get rid of a kid than selling her off right?

God bless the world now though because they’re dead, and they never get to bring another kid into this world. It took years of being prodded, poked, scanned, and lasered until Miami Department came and got you out of there. Only the people on this mission was even aware of your situation and what exactly you were.

Your situation was made top secret, which meant not many should even know you’re the person rescued from this place. Only the people in the mission, which was AMMO, and the captain, that was it.

That being said you had to be kept in a facility for a while to be monitored before they let you go. They didn’t want to risk anything so they had to make sure you were good to go to be let out. And with you being so top-secret, that meant you had to stay in a place with someone that already knew your secret. Marcus decided to take you in, after many, many… many talks with Mike. They made sure you got what you needed and you even got the chance to integrate back into society.

However, this isn’t the matter at hand right now.

With this all being said, the fact was that you were not full vampire. With that in mind, this sheer thirst you have for blood right now is absolutely ridiculous. You’ve never had this problem before.

You don’t even know why you’re feeling like this in the first place.

You were usually able to control yourself, control your desires, your urges, your thirst. But now, it felt like you could rip the walls off hospital just to get inside for even a drop of blood.

Stones felt like they were piling higher and higher into your neck.

You were so fucking thirsty.

It had been god knows how many hours, close to about 2 days since the hospital closed down and you could feel the hot sensation of burning in your insides, along with fatigue and pain all over your body. You could curse the damned hospitals for putting you through this. You could control your thirst, you knew you could, but for some reason these last couple days, you had been completely insatiable.

And the people who could help you right now had been gone for almost a week. One of them being your boyfriend of 11 months.

Armando.

You had met him at the department, where you usually had to go for routine inspection of the state of your body and your abilities. He had been let out of jail for sometime, and with him being on AMMO, his father informed him of your situation.

Apparently he trusted his son with your secret.

He was weary of you at first, but that quickly died when he saw how you carried yourself. What led him to become so drawn to you was your raw strength and mental fortitude. He was impressed (and partially terrified) not only of your speed and strength, but also your ability to keep your thirst for blood at a minimum.

Granted nobody else in the world was like you.

Still though, he half expected you to react in the ways he’d seen vampires in movies would, unarticulated and flat out greedy for blood. Your personality is what sold him though, but that’s a story for another time.

Right now, the man you were currently silently begging to come home was nowhere to be found, as he was busy on a mission, and only god knows how long it’ll take him, or anybody else who knows about your situation to come back, You wanted him to be back so badly so he could just hold you as you went through this, not wanting to be alone. You were laying on your side, back facing the door and breathing so hard you were feeling severely lightheaded, even when laying down.

The after what felt like another hour had gone by, you heard the front door open and could’ve screamed for joy if you weren’t so damn thirsty and borderline passing out.

“Baby..?”

You heard his voice as his smell was enough to make you feel like you could get through this.

Armando, on the other hand, was on it.

Immediately, when he neared the bedroom after putting his stuff down, he could already sense something was wrong. When he saw you laying on the bed, back facing him and breathing hard, he immediately was on full alert.

He came over to you and slowly turned you over in your back, trying to assess the state you’re in.

“Mama? Talk to me, tell what’s wrong, what do you need?”

You looked at him, barely able to form words, you were just so out of it. He noticed your usual brown eyes were so dark they were border-lining black now, and under your eyes were dark circles. You looked like you haven’t slept in days.

“Mama talk to me please.. I need to know what to do to help you..”

“..thirsty.” You barely manage to answer him, practically gasping as the single word left your mouth.

“Where’s your blood baby? You don’t have any more?”

You shook your head no. And you already knew what his next question would be, so again, grasping at straws for the words to rip themselves from the back of your burning throat, you managed to say, “..hospital’s closed.. can’t get more..”

He tsks at the information you just told him. He quickly kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, lifting your head slowly to rest and on his lap as he brushes your hair, trying to find anyway to alleviate the pain he knows you’re in right now.

Judging by your state, you could very well die without getting blood somehow, and of course he could go get it for you, but he doesn’t want to leave your side.

He can’t risk that.

“Mama vamos... bebe el mío, no puedo dejarte así...”

At this point, you felt like your head was splitting and your ears were ringing, so you swore you had heard him wrong. You gave him an incredulous look, which he picked up on. “Baby I’m not kidding.” Quickly, but carefully, he pulled your body up so you were in a position where you were sitting in his lap, face facing his.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, you need to drink some of mine, now.”

You shake your head immediately. Weakly, you respond, “Hell no.. I’m not doing that. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“No te lo estaba preguntando.”

He shoots you a look, and if you could, you’d muster up the strength to roll your eyes. You swore you’d never drink directly from a person, it just felt so wrong to you, wrong to even think about. It would make you feel less human, and it already took you months to start ingesting blood.

“Woman drink, now!” Still being stubborn, you didn’t budge. So he had to take matters into his own hands. He guided your head from the crook of his shoulder to look at him.

“Listen to me mama.. I can tell you’re fucking exhausted and tired, so I need you to listen to me and drink, I’ll be damned if I lose you to your stubbornness. I’m not playing with you. Drink.” You start shying away from the intensity of his gaze and words.

You knew very well what you not listening to him would do. Sighing, you sucked it up and looked at him, nodding. He leans back a bit and takes off his shirt, then cranes his neck to one side, fully surrendering himself so you can start the process.

You swallow nervously, the dry feeling scraping at your insides. Slowly, you lean closer, your fangs slowly growing as your face draws closer to his face. You stop momentarily, not sure if you want to go through with this. “Go on baby, está bien..” he rasps, rubbing your back gently.

At his reassurance, you come close enough to his neck and open your mouth, your sharp fangs coming into view and bite down. He groans at the intrusion, his body momentarily tensing at the feeling.

You on the other hand felt as if you were in pure bliss. The sounds you were making at the taste of his blood would have the neighbors sharing some questionable looks. You felt so energized, and you couldn’t get enough. His blood felt like crack to you, it was so addictive. Armando swore it would hurt more than it did. It felt.. pleasing.

He liked it.

Maybe he should let you do this more often.

Finally, you pull back from him, dazed. He too is a little whipped from the situation. He holds the back of your head as you pull back, studying your face. Your eyes were already beginning to glow, reverting to their original color. “¿Mejor?” You nod yes, bringing a hand up to wipe the access blood and the corner of your mouth. Your body had felt like it was buzzing with pure electricity.

It felt so much better.

“See.. that’s why you need to listen to me mama.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I know.. thank you baby.”

He smiled at you. “De nada, mamá...now can you wrap this up for me so we can shower?” Gesturing to his neck.

You laugh a bit and smile. “Sí, vale.”

[GLOSSARY]

“Mama vamos... bebe el mío, no puedo dejarte así...” —“Mama, let’s go... drink mine, I can’t leave you like that...”

“No te lo estaba preguntando.” — “I wasn’t asking you.”

“. . . está bien..” — “. . . it’s fine..”

“¿Mejor?” — “Better?”

“De nada, mamá. . .” — “You’re welcome, mama. . .”

“Sí, vale.” — “Yeah, okay.”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @armandosbabymama @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom @butterflyybabe @dyttomori @nuggetnat888 @yeahnobyehoney @urbanlovestory || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — MILLIUMIZOOMI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere //// Part 3

Part 1 • 2

With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far 

But you are isolated by most 

And verbally tested by the lieutenant

“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”

“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”

“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”

Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant

“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!” 

“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”

“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”

It doesn’t get any better

No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops

It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day

“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”

“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”

“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”

“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”

One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood

Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place

You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome

It’s easy to keep you happy that way

Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you

So that you can enjoy in peace

But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone

They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place

Not just for you but for Vera too 

Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience

“You are the technician, fix it!”

“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”

“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”

Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats

In truth, they aren’t threats

They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you

When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent

“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”

“Me too.”

“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”

“Sure!” 

In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’

Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind

To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different

As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well

It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way

Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely 

putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod

“Why cannot I not try it out now?”

“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”

“But…I want to feel you both.”

“Soon Ver. Soon.”

Part 4: Coming?

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 1.3k w.c. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au-ish :3 ﾉ just some rindou lovin' ﾉ repost!

it’s been a while since you've been out with your friends. can you really call them that, though? they are classmates at the very least, ones that feel compelled to invite you to their gatherings. it’s thoughtful, you’ll give them that, but part of you wishes they didn’t. maybe the outing is just boring or maybe they have all grown dull, but either way, it’s easy to zone out in their presence. their chatter seems distant. you don’t even really know what they’re talking about—something regarding everyone’s plans for this saturday.

“what about you?” the girl beside you nudges your ribs to gain your attention—and it works. the jab is surprisingly painful given how small she is. “can you make it?”

“sorry, i already have plans with someone else.”

“aww,” she whines at your answer, “who are you hanging out with? maybe they can tag along.”

“rindou.”

all the idle chatter at the table stops upon the mere utterance of his name. suddenly, all eyes are on you. he’s popular, but not for the right reasons. not many people are fond of him. and you never minded that, but the people who dislike him don’t just dislike him; they’re afraid of him. so although you have no problem associating yourself with him, you’ve learned quickly that bringing him up around others often leads to unsavory reactions. you slipped up at this moment.

“you mean… haitani rindou?”

“mhm.” you’re aware of the common consensus when it comes to rindou and what people think of him, but you want to test the waters and see how your peers perceive him. “why? what’s wrong with him?”

the replies flood in like a tsunami.

“he only hangs out with his brother and you know how much trouble ran is.”

“yeah, they’re total scumbags. i’m pretty sure they’ve almost gotten arrested—and on multiple occasions at that.”

“you’re perfectly capable of surrounding yourself with better company. why on earth would you want to be seen with him?”

“that’s really none of your concern.” the last comment strikes a nerve and causes you to raise your voice. shocked eyes accompanied by gaping mouths stare at you in surprise. you don’t know why you expected their responses to be any different. everyone jumps to the same conclusion and they aren’t an exception. their feelings about him are crystal clear. if they think so poorly of him, they have no place in your life. “and i’d rather not talk to you guys if you’re going to continue to speak about him like that. i’m leaving now.”

and with that, you stand up, collect your things, and start on your way home.

• • •

rindou is in the kitchen when you walk through the door. a head of blonde hair sits at the small table, slurping up ramen noodles. the steam wafting from the bowl leaves the lenses of his gold-framed glasses foggy. your keys clatter when they meet the ceramic of the dish that holds little things like chapstick and mini box cutters. the noise grabs rindou’s attention, his gaze abandoning his food in favor of looking at your figure that approaches to take a seat next to him. he didn’t think he would see you back so soon; it felt like you had just left. but he doesn’t say a word, instead, offering you the noodles hanging from his chopsticks. you lean forward to accept the mouthful of spicy ramen. every other bite of what remains in the bowl is reserved for you.

you stay attached to his hip for the rest of the day; helping him wash the dishes even though it’s your least favorite chore, sitting in his lap and snuggling into his neck as he boots up his computer to play who knows what game with his friends—you even go as far as getting comfortable on the lid of the toilet while he takes his shower for the night. it isn’t unusual for you to take care of his hair once he emerges from the steamy room, combing out the tangled strands of blonde and blue before pulling out the hair dryer. after the locks are fluffy and dry, his hair sits in a neat bun on the top of his head. the only pieces that escape are the ones not quite long enough to be tied up with the rest.

you wonder if your actions came off as overbearing; not that you would care if they did. the conversation from earlier reminded you of how poorly people regarded your boyfriend. someone has to love him when everyone else thinks so little of him, and you’re more than happy to be that person.

and you’re content at the moment, practically lying on top of him, your fingers tracing each curve of the black ink tattooed into his skin. you can feel the thumping of his heart, hear the rhythmic beat of it in your ear.

“what’s wrong?” rindou speaks up out of the blue. so then he had noticed the shift in your behavior.

“what do you mean?” you feign ignorance. you know rindou was fully aware of his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to shield him from the harshness of others.

“you’re even clingier than usual.”

“i’m not clingy,” you mumble against his chest.

“mm, yeah, you are.” he pinches your cheek that isn’t pressed against him. it doesn’t hurt but you look up at him regardless. lilac eyes peer down at you. the blank expression on his face may not show it, but his gaze is enough to tell you that he’s concerned. “are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

rindou isn’t the type to push you, to make you tell him something you aren’t ready to tell. if you told him you didn’t want to talk about it, you were sure he’d let it go. but since it’s weighing so heavily on your mind, maybe it is best to share. “i brought your name up in front of some classmates and they said some pretty rude stuff about you.”

he snorts as if what you were worried about was silly. and to him, it is. it doesn’t bother him—the wandering eyes, the hushed whispers, the anxious avoidance. everything that you seem to be hyperaware of is the norm for rindou. and he can understand why it upsets you, he wouldn’t want people speaking ill of you, but he’s accustomed to his bad reputation. “i thought i told you not to let stuff like that get to you. you know i don’t give a shit about what people think.”

“well, i do.” maybe you shouldn’t, not to the extent you do, anyway. but after getting to know rindou, the real rindou, you can’t help but feel offended when people reduce him to nothing more than a no-good criminal. sure, he isn’t a saint, but he’s far from evil. what gave them the right to form opinions when they only got a glimpse of one side of him? “they shouldn’t get to judge you if they don’t even know you.”

he lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh, the breath heaving from his chest causing your head to raise. though, not long after, his lips find their way to your hairline, pressing a light kiss to the skin. his hand runs up and down your arm, “it doesn’t matter how often i tell you, huh?”

“nope.” you shamelessly reply. you’ll never stand for people demeaning the man you’ve come to love.

“how stubborn,” he clicks his tongue. it’s clear that this was a matter he won’t be able to change your mind on. of course, he doesn’t care what people think about him, but seeing you so protective of him and his image is oddly endearing. “so what, are you my defender or something?”

“mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes drift shut, “now and always.”

thanks for reading! pls consider reblogging or commenting if u enjoyed :3

[beenbaanbuun]

darling being left alone with yeosang for a long period while addams!matz has to leave for a few days (business or what have you)

yeosang dreads that shit as soon as they tell him. he KNOWS darling is gonna test his resolve and he KNOWS how it's gonna go, but darling's just so excited to stay with him, and hongjoong makes some passing joke about yeosang being the "guard dog"

so now he's like "well someone has to :|" but his tail is wagging anyway

oh this is adorable and i need to talk about it!!

okay, so the only two people taking it well would be san—he gets to go with matz as a chauffeur and is thanking the gods that he doesn’t have to be alone in the house with darling and yeosang for 2 days—and darling herself. whilst she isn’t necessarily happy about her precious mommy and daddy abandoning her for a couple of days (hongjoong’s dramatics are really rubbing off on her) she’s also well aware of her own capability. sure, she hasn’t had to take care of herself in a while, but it’s not like she’s forgotten how to cook and wash her own hair, right? she’ll be fine! and it’s not like she’ll be alone…

but yeosang is very much planning on her being alone for most of the two days. with no hongjoong or seonghwa there to distract her, all the attention will be on him. it’s fine for an hour or two, but a whole two days? he’ll barricade his bedroom door if he has to!

“you’ll take care of her, right?” the usually strong and dependable seonghwa asks yeosang with a shaky voice, and the wolf realises that perhaps he’ll have to spend more time with you that he initially planned on. that’s if he doesn’t want to get punished when you inevitably tell on him for ignoring you. with a tight smile he pulls darling into his side and nods. his tail flicks a little when she nuzzles into neck with a grin.

“of course he will, cara mia,” hongjoong mutters with danger in his voice. yeosang takes it for what it is, a warning—protect their darling or face the consequences. yeosang mentally resigns himself to being darling’s personal teddy bear for the next couple of days, and all his hopes of peace and quiet melt away before his eyes. “i’m sure the guard dog will keep her safe, won’t you, mutt?”

“someone has to, right?” darling just curls further into the wolf’s side and the tell-tale thudding on his tail beating against the ground gives up the game. he cant exactly pretend not to be at least a little excited when his tail is thumping against the floor like a drum beat. “the poor thing has been overly spoiled by the pair of you! you can’t expect her to look after herself, can you?”

and again, darling can look after herself and everyone in the room knows that. it doesn’t stop the knowing smile that gets passed around, though; she can look after herself, but she’d much rather leave that responsibility up to the men that she has wrapped around her pretty little finger. life’s so much simpler when all she has to worry about is being doted on…

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

Strap in if you dare, I’m going to talk about Riko.

Yes, he is a Bad Person. Nothing I’m about to say counters that. However… evil isn’t always so obvious as to dress in black and torture everyone you love. Evil is insidious and nuanced - it can creep in when you aren’t expecting it and have no defences. We’ve been given this incredibly complex and interesting example of it, and we’ve been given it for a reason. Riko is a character worth trying to understand.

Could Riko ever have been saved, and if so what would it have taken? What if he’d been able to follow the Fox path to redemption instead of the Ravens to perdition?

Except both Foxes AND Ravens were traumatised… the thing that ruined Riko was power. Lincoln said it: “nearly all men can stand adversity but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” Who was Riko without power? It’s hard to see.

So I’m fascinated by a different question - how did Riko see Riko?

We know how the Foxes saw him: a low-functioning sociopath with zero coping skills and the personality of a cat trapped in a wall cavity. Presumably that’s not how he saw himself. What kind of headcannon did he construct for himself, what was his own personal mythology?

We know he wanted his father’s approval, he wanted to be number one. We know how badly he dealt with those desires being thwarted.

I know how it feels to be an abandoned child. You feel like the outer edges of a person, with this gaping hole in the centre. It’s not just that you lost a loved one, it’s - how can I say it - it’s like the clasp that lets you hold on to people has been torn out too. Everyone will leave now, and you know it.

(I didn’t cope by turning my bedroom into Abu Ghraib, though.)

It’s the worst of both worlds. His father is far enough away to cause that gaping wound, yet not sufficiently gone for it to ever close over and heal.

But… despite his impossible situation, Riko wasn’t withdrawing into himself. Resentment ate away at him and he liked doing side-projects of revenge, but it was hope driving him on. I see Riko as someone with a very hot flame in them, someone determined to succeed (like Neil). He was driven, even if the goal he chased so eagerly was an illusion. I think he saw his situation as a challenge, an opportunity to prove himself and eventually take his rightful place at his father’s side (surely that’s what Kengo really meant, surely this was a test, a test he can pass if he just wins one more time...)

Imagine something like… the second son of a Roman emperor, sent to some far-off outpost to get him out of the way subdue rebel tribes. A chance to make a name for himself, an opportunity to create an elite unit where violence and skill are everything, where winning is everything. A challenge he accepts with savage excitement.

And the world views them with the kind of awe once reserved for ancient Sparta. Unsurpassed warriors, impossibly focussed. Yes, they endure conditions no one else could even consider but they always win, and everyone loves winners. They are the legends of legends. Surely his father will see.

Kevin was his Lancelot, his shining sword, his right hand. Kevin added to Riko’s status, assured him he must be a hero if he had such a splendid champion at his side.

But Kevin is beautiful, so perhaps Riko’s feelings were more complicated than that, perhaps they were feelings he couldn’t admit he had. He could still work those feelings into the overall picture though… it’s all part of Kevin being his beloved champion.

Until the champion started edging him out of his own story and had to be sacrificed. A necessary sacrifice, but losing Kevin struck a huge blow to the mythology Riko built up about himself. He could no longer look in the mirror, side by side, and see Kevin’s glory (and, yes, Kevin’s dad) reflected back as though it belonged to him too.

Despite this Riko finds a way to keep winning, even without his champion. Surely that is even more impressive? Can his father see that?

Still no response. In the story Riko constructs for himself his father does no wrong, so this towering rage he feels has to crash down on someone else. He tells himself he is punishing his troops for daring to be unworthy.

Then there is Jean, someone from a caste so low as to be unclean, even subnormal, someone it would hurt Riko’s prestige to treat with any kind of respect. But Jean is also beautiful, and those feelings can’t be worked into the myth. Their outlet is the darkness behind closed doors, along with all the other feelings that don’t fit the story of the hero.

Harming his people, his intimate possessions, was Riko’s coping mechanism for rejection and humiliation the way self-harm in many forms is to many others. (Are you hearing me if I say hurting yourself is hurting your own Perfect Court, and there is collateral damage even if you think it’s just you, because people love you and suffer because of it? Are you hearing me if I say stop being Riko to yourself?)

And maybe his enjoyment of that cruelty was, deep down, a form of denial that the cruelty arose from anguish. ‘No I’m not upset, I’m not a loser, I’m in control, I’m doing this because I like it…’ Maybe even to the point where rendition becomes sexual.

But it’s starting to unravel. He’s lost his only friend and can no longer unleash his mounting frustrations on Jean the way he wants to; he’s running out of pieces for his board.

Then he finds the fugitive his family were chasing for so long. This is his big chance. He’ll have a brand new champion for his stable or a valuable offering to please his father, he wins either way.

He captures this feral child who tells him there is no empty throne waiting by the side of the emperor, Kengo never mentions his son’s name, Riko is nothing more than a joke in that far-off capital. So much scorn in those words that the carefully constructed mythology withers before it.

First the would-be rook took the queen, then the wild-card knight escapes again, and now the whipping boy / concubine / bishop is taken by a girl with a cross around her neck. The king has lost all his men… because that’s your REAL story, isn’t it: everyone leaves you.

And then… Kengo dies.

Yes, Riko is a Bad Person. No, I do not like him. But Nora gave us two boys who met their brother for the first time, two boys who cried out their brother’s name only to see their hopes shattered. And in that moment they were one, so I cannot dismiss this monstrous, horrible abomination no matter how hard I try.

I can however dismiss anyone who says Nora is not a goddess of writing.

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations No.13

-just my opinions, please take them with a grain of salt !

-Libras tend to only give significant attention to people they think are beautiful/pretty. (So if a libra man is messing around in your dms, you at least know you’re pretty! Lol) Subtly I’ve noticed that Taurus placements tend to do this as well? Like, they don’t write off people in the way some Libras do but I haven’t seen someone with Taurus in the big 6 dating someone that isn’t attractive or at least aesthetically pleasing.

-Stellium in 3rd/ mars in 3rd/ Gemini Mars and Stellium in 6th/ mars in 6th/ Virgo Mars: do you find yourself multitasking all the time? I find that multitasking helps me finish tasks faster 9 times out of 10. Like I need to have my attention in a few places at once to be efficient. (I love podcasts and drawing)

-Neptune conjunct moon, Pisces moon, moon in 12th: you have really deep intuition but not much clarity that comes with it. Like I had this like intense instinct go off that i was going to run into something one I cut off last year- and I was right! But only halfway lol, totally different dude than I expected lol. It’s like shaking a magic 8 ball, you’ve got an answer but not the answer lol.

-I agree that your moon sign shows the most of your true personality, especially as you get past like 25. But with sun conjunct moon I’ve had a tricky time spotting this. I think it’s clearest with Aries and Aquarius moons for me. Aries moons have so much energy and they grow into being real leaders as they get older, and Aquarius moons have real stand out opinions and tend to live in their uniqueness more and attempt to conform less as they get older.

-Mercury in 3rd or Gemini or natal retrograde can mean you’re incapable of writing short little text messages lol. You either write a paragraph or send a lot of little texts successively.

-I find that Venus/Libra dominant people can be very charming in public and really judgmental in private/anonymously. They don’t want their opinions to clash with their pleasing persona.

-Scorpio sun + Sagittarius moon/ Sagittarius sun + Scorpio Moon doesn’t mean you have to be wild but oml they’ve been some of the most extreme people I’ve ever met. I feel like these people are always bringing BIG energy into the room and changing things around them with that Jupiter/Pluto double whammy. (I have stories about every person I’ve known with those placements but my go to is an aunt that had a boyfriend that bought her a car and a dog and she crashed the car, abandoned the dog with my grandma, and broke up with the guy. He’s doing better now lol.)

-But on the flip side, Capricorn placements can bring in Saturn type changes and lesson to any environment they come into. I have a stellium so it’s hard for me to separate all the categories where I’ve seen places fall apart (usually work places and bad bosses but it applies to everyone)

But for sun- people get insecure and start acting from a place of ego, moon- emotional tension gets tested and people are more likely to react from petty places, Mercury- communication and technology that was patched together falls through in the weak places and systems get overwhelmed; Jupiter- Luck runs out for those that are flying by the seat of their pants and don’t really know what they’re doing; Neptune- no more delusions are allowed, lies and duplicity are exposed

And after I’ve left those places and their dysfunction behind it seems like the lessons continue on even more. I’m not sure why the effect lingers, except that Saturn will make you learn or punish you.

[yoongihan]

Not Friends - HJS - OneShot

(i've had the above gif for so long, i have no idea who the creator is. credit to them and if they see this and wish me to take it down, please let me know. i thought the effects of the banner were pretty cool)

pairing: jisung x female reader

genre: angst, coming of age, fluff, romance, friendships

romantic trope: boy next door (inspiration from this reel)

word count: ~8k

rating: T

warnings: language, kissing, arguing, mostly the trials of middle and high school, drinking underage (nothing too excessive), sneaking out, abandoned places, mc is stubborn af

there is mention briefly toward the end of something that might be triggering, it is not praised or belabored. it's something characters disagree with, i'm choosing not to list it as it is a bit of a spoiler. if you are concerned, please message me off anon and i will let you know what it is.

a/n: fic #3 in skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics. i have to admit, this is kinda a weird one. not really sure what people will think. however, it seems hella fitting to post jisung's story after getting so much of him lately (the song '13' is beautiful) and his curly long hair might be my death. hugs to you readers, you have been so lovely.

----------

There isn’t a time where you don’t remember Han Jisung being there. He’s always just there. 

His family moved into the house next door when you were only a year old (so you’ve been told, it’s not like you have any memories of that time) and he was a year old. Your moms started talking over the small fence that lay between your two backyards, so somewhere in your infantile mind, there is an image of one chubby-cheeked Jisung, probably falling over from his seated position then crying loudly because his balance was always circumspect, especially during the dreaded middle school years.

So when in school, someone asked if you knew Han Jisung, you said yes. 

Friends?

No. Not friends.

Boyfriend?

No, ew. He’s just the boy next door.

Yes, you hung out with him when you were both infants and toddlers. When school started, you were sometimes in the same class, but not always. He tended to keep to himself during recess and you had enough trouble trying to find friends who were interested in the same things you were. 

Namely, vampires.

Perhaps expecting other six and seven year olds to be as fascinated by vampires was asking a bit too much. But you were listening to Dracula, a radio performance, at six years old (begs the question of why your parents didn’t do anything, but they weren’t around at that very moment) so why weren’t other kids interested?

Well, they weren’t. 

Maybe your parents thought you’d grow out of it. Most kids grow out of things; horses, wanting to be a fireman, superheroes, etc. 

So many times that your parents tried offering you Barbies and My Little Ponies, on which you painted fangs and blood on.

But you don’t grow out of it. And no one grows into it.

Jisung himself seems to integrate okay into middle school. He finds Felix and Seungmin, and the three of them pal around, playing video games and probably other things that you were and are unaware of.

“You’re going to join the dance team?”

You’re in your backyard, attempting to weed the garden because if you do, your mother might not get as mad about you failing your math test. Jisung comes out to let out his dog, Bbama, and the two of you, though again not friends, aren’t unfriendly; so you chat. 

“Felix wants to,” Jisung explains as Bbama comes to the fence to press his nose to your waiting fingers. “And well, he likes when we do things all together.”

You eye him with skepticism. “Can you dance?”

You’re both newly turned thirteen and puberty is a bitch. Jisung is all limbs, and you’re sure you resemble an egg in physique and color. 

“No. But they aren’t expecting Lord of the Dance or anything.”

Jisung getting sassy with you isn’t new. Though quiet a lot of the time, when it’s only the two of you, he seems to be braver. 

“They want us to do extracurriculars, you know, to get ready for high school.”

“Yeah?”

“So, what about you?”

“What about me?” What you just pulled up out of the ground is definitely not a weed, so you plop it back in and cover it up with dirt. Hopefully, your mom won’t notice. 

“You should join the dance team too!”

You look up at him before watching Bbama run in circles behind him. “No.”

“Maybe robotics?”

“No way.”

“Art club?”

“Jisung, you’ve seen my stick figures.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“What I want to do doesn’t have a club or team, okay?”

You can hear his soft sigh as you dig out an actual weed this time. 

“Vampires?”

You bristle at the implications. “I’m just…” You huff and sit back in your kneeled position. “There are too many accounts for it to be fiction, okay?”

“But what do you do with that?” He asks just as softly. “I mean, if they are real, they want to drink your blood and kill you. So like…you should avoid.”

“Do they? Or is that just Dracula and other novels telling us that?”

He points out a weed you’ve missed. You grumble, but grab and pull. 

“Kids at school–”

“I don’t care what kids at school say or think, Jisung.” 

“Yes, you do. We all do.” He swallows. “You think it doesn’t hurt when they make fun of my braces or glasses, or the fact that I can’t walk without running into something?”

You wince. Jisung isn’t a friend, but he’s familiar. He’s annoying as most boys are, but he isn’t mean. Not usually. You and he have had fights over the years, but most were when you were little and toys were involved. 

“You shouldn’t care what they think.”

“But I do.” 

“That’s why you’re joining the dance team, and I’m going to work on the ultimate vampire hunter kit.”

“Where are you going to get holy water?”

“Amazon.”

He sighs again, calling Bbama to go back inside. “I’m joining the team because Felix is my friend and it matters to him. That’s what friends do.” When he stops at the back door, he calls back. “Seungmin is really good at math if you need help for the next test.”

You don’t answer, not for the first time considering how you don’t have friends. There are some kids you sit with at lunch, but they mostly congregate together because there is strength in numbers, not because there’s any common interests or amiability. 

–

~Ninth grade~

You wonder if maybe you should have tried out for softball or something because each pebble you throw at Jisung’s window actually hits 75% of the time. Who knew you had great aim?

The window opens and he looks down and you can see more than hear his heavy sigh.

“Why don’t you just message me?”

“I don’t have your number.” Why would you?

There’s another heavy sigh and he disappears into his room after closing the window. Your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You pull it out.

>> now you have it.

<< can i borrow your car?

>> what?

The back door opens and he comes out in pajama pants and a huge sweatshirt. He’s shoved on his glasses and his hair is tufted in chunks. 

Was he really asleep at 11pm?

“You wanna borrow my truck?”

You nod, tugging on your scarf, a bit too tightly wrapped. “I’ll be careful. It’ll be back in the driveway by the time you wake up in the morning. I could probably hotwire it if I studied for a bit, but I figure, I could just ask.”

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes unfocused. “Why?”

“I don’t have a car.” Your parents don’t think you’re responsible enough to have a car. Something about still living in fantasy, blah blah blah. 

“I know…” He looks both annoyed and amused at the same time. “Why do you need it tonight?”

“Oh. I need to check out a place. There’s been rumor of vampiric activity.”

He actually takes a step back. “You’re going vampire hunting. Tonight. In my truck.”

“Yes.” I hold out my hand. “If you’ll give me your keys.”

“Do you even have your permit yet?”

You drop your arm. “No, but I’ve practiced.”

He turns and stares at his house. 

“So…Jisung…is that a no?”

“If I say no, will you hotwire it?”

“I mean, maybe.”

There’s a lot of muttered curses before he turns back around. “Yes, but I’m going with you. I’m driving.”

“What? No. No way.”

He walks right up, a foot away from me. “You let me go, drive, and you come to see the dance team at halftime; or you’re shit out of luck, Van Helsing.” 

You open your mouth to tell him where he can stick it, but then don’t. You actually need his vehicle. The area that online people have had sightings and encounters is only an hour away and this was the only night that your parents had wine before dinner which would definitely keep them so deeply asleep that you can get away with a nightly venture. 

And maybe it would be fun to watch Jisung, Seungmin and Felix perform. Not that you’d ever admit that.

“Yeah. Okay. But you have to do what I say, okay?”

He nods. “Give me like five.”

An hour and a half later, he shifts next to you as you hold a position in a cluster of trees. “Like…I don’t think they’re here.”

“Shh,” you hush him, half-heartedly hitting his arm. “They don’t billboard-announce it.” You move quickly and as quietly as you can toward the old abandoned cabin.

“Pretty sure it’s just serial killers who do that.”

You spin around to glare at him, but he’s grinning at you. You’re irked, but you can’t help but smile. It’s a little fun to have someone with you.

“Are we really going in there?”

You hand him a flask and move again to another gathering of foliage. 

“Are we drinking?” he whispers once he’s followed successfully. He’s still skinny as a rail, but still provides a little warmth at your back. 

“No, you dummy, it’s got holy water. It’s to protect yourself.” 

“Oh.” You can almost hear his smile. “Thanks.”

It takes a few more minutes of covert movement before you get to the house. You circle it, looking for any tell-tale signs of vampiric activity (corpses or animal remains, displaced or unusual soil, etc), but there’s nothing except overgrown weeds and some tricycle that has been taken over by said overgrown weeds. 

You test the back door. 

“Shouldn’t we get a flashlight?”

“And announce our arrival?”

“They can hear better than us, don’t you think they’d already know, with how you nearly tripped over that root before the gate?”

Yeah, that was embarrassing. You glare at him again. 

“How do you know all that stuff? About their hearing?”

He rolls his eyes and rewraps his scarf around his neck. “I’ve known you all my life. I listen…duh?”

You shake your head and enter the run-down cabin. As you test the rotted wooden floors, making sure to tell Jisung to step where you step, you think about that. There’s no reason why Jisung would just know how good a vampire’s hearing is rumored to be. Unless he listened to you, and remembered.

That sticks with you, even as you find that the abandoned cabin is full of dust, cobwebs, questionable wallpaper choices, with no sign of life…or unlife. 

He never says anything like ‘I told you so’ on the drive back, nearly four and a half hours after the initial request of his car. 

“That was kind of fun,” he says, sneezing when you both get out of his dented-in-weird-places truck. 

“You screamed three times and squeezed my arm so tight, it’s gonna bruise.”

“Those weren’t screams. They were….yelps. Exclamations of surprise.”

You can’t help but smile at him. “Sure.”

He tugs his beanie so it covers his ears. “I’ll do it again with you, if only so you don’t steal my truck.”

“Maybe…” You don’t promise anything. Yes, it was nice to have someone with you, but you don’t put your faith into it. Jisung is on the dance team, goes to pc cafes to game, and actually hangs out with his friends. You do just this. 

You know you’re the weird one here. 

“Maybe I’ll finally get my own car.”

“You could get a job.” He offers, leaning against the grill of his truck. 

“At fifteen?” 

He shrugs. “You could babysit?”

The both of you start laughing at the mere idea of you being in charge of vulnerable little humans. 

“I mean, you could.”

“The world is a better place without me protecting a toddler from the electric outlet.” 

He shrugs and shoves his hands into his coat pockets before pulling out the flask. “I dunno. You protected me pretty well.” He yawns. 

“Go sleep.” You take the flask back. “Thanks.”

He nods, already looking like he might fall asleep leaning against his SUV like that. “Not going to say ‘any time’. Maybe once and awhile.”

You press your lips together to stop smiling at him. “Sure. Night.” 

–

Jisung reminds you of your promise to watch the dance team at one game’s halftime, so you show up to a basketball game, sit and watch a sport that makes the people around you yell at the referees, the other team, and the home team with such passion that you think you must have something wrong with you because you do not get it.

But the half ends, and most people get up to grab concessions or hit the bathrooms while the co-ed dance team comes out in black and red outfits. You find Felix easy enough in the crowd, his vibrant blonde hair bouncing as he finds his position, talking excitedly to another dancer. Seungmin with his characteristic nonchalant expression is behind Felix, seeming unbothered that there’s an audience in front of him, waiting to judge and assess him.

Jisung is near the end of the second line, bouncing on the balls of his feet as everyone gets into place. He glanced up at the crowd, eyes scanning. He sees you because your eyes lock and you give a little wave of ‘see, I came’. You think he smiles, but you are on the top row of bleachers, off to the far side. 

The dancers all drop their heads when the music starts. Felix leads off and the rest fall into sync with him. You try and watch the group as a whole, impressed with how they move together, how the choreography seems like a mix of hip hop and contemporary.

It’s honestly pretty good for a high school group. You have YouTube and you’ve seen the occasional viral embarrassing dance rendition of whatever hit song is popular. 

Your eyes fall on Jisung the most. He’s the only one you know on your side of the gym (most of the time, there are a few formation changes). 

For being all limbs (though admittedly, he’s less like a stretched-out stick figure these days), Jisung is a good dancer. He’s on beat with his moves, and it doesn’t look horribly awkward.

You’re surprised. 

The song isn’t more than maybe two minutes and the applause at the end of it is not the same as the passionate yelling of spectators for some ‘bogus call, ref’. You clap though because you are impressed, and because if you had friends, you think it would be Jisung and his two compatriots. 

You start to head out of the gym into the lobby to go home; you are not sitting through more yelling at where an orange ball travels to. You’re almost home free, but you hear your name and turn to see Jisung running up to you. He’s grinning, face flushed, hair ruffled. 

“Thanks!”

“I mean, I promised.” You glance around to see schoolmates watching the two of you conversing and you wonder if Jisung worries about it. Because if you were less on the fringes (you’re not going to call Jisung popular, but he’s not ignored), you might worry about who you’re seen with. 

“Did I do okay?”

His question interrupts your musing on high school hierarchies, and you look at him in shock. 

“I…I don’t know anything about dance, Jisung.”

He nods. “But you are honest. Sometimes painfully. So, tell me. What did you think?” He crosses his arms and waits. You blink a few times, your mind going back over the memory of their performance, him specifically. 

“I think you’re good. I didn’t see any obvious mistakes or like you didn’t fit in.”

“But?”

It’s unnerving how he seems to know that you have more thoughts, even when you weren’t completely aware of them yourself. 

“I think you can extend more?” You swallow, lifting your arms so they stretch out. “Like your arms don’t go out all the way and I think it looks better when you do?” You shrug and drop your arms. “Also, your shoulders are up when you dance. Makes you look tense.” 

He nods a few times before smiling. “See, I knew you’d be honest.” He drops his arms from his chest. “Thanks…Are you leaving?”

You nod emphatically. “I cannot handle the screaming any longer.”

He laughs. “Yeah, fair.” He watches you for one more second. “We’re gonna go out for burgers and shakes later…you can come?”

“We?”

“The dance team mostly, I think.”

You’re already shaking your head. “Uh, thanks, but no thanks.” You start to walk backward, a little on edge being this close to Jisung and how he kinda sparkles all sweaty and red-faced. “I’ll see ya.”

He waves as you practically trip to get out of there.

–

~Tenth grade~

He warned you. He said that with both sets of parents going for a weekend trip together that he might have a party. You didn’t care because you had homework and research to do, and a party with Seungmin, Felix, and Jisung didn’t seem that concerning.

Since when did sophomore Jisung know enough people to have a rager? Because that’s what it sounds like next door right now.

You look through the kitchen window. There’s a lot of people, bodies silhouetted in the windows of his house, people in the backyard. Music loud and pumping. 

He invited you. You could go over.

You sigh and look in the refrigerator. There’s a six pack of beer. You could bring it over. Your father would probably just think that he’d already finished it. Or maybe he’d be thrilled that you snuck alcohol like a normal teenager. 

That’s what you’ll do. Just bring the six pack over, say hi to Jisung and remind him that the rest of your neighbors might not be as tolerant of the noise level.

And to be careful. 

You tug slightly on your turtleneck as you walk over. It’s not cold enough to warrant it, but it’s night time and you aren’t stupid.

Easy access to arteries is a dumb move.

You decide to step over the fence between the backyards, hearing a few ‘who is that?’ comments as you do from the outdoor party-goers. You will stay thirty minutes. That’s enough to get the high school party experience, right?

You see Felix the moment you walk in the back doors. He is sitting on a counter laughing at something someone is saying. He sees you, eyes light up and he slides off the counter to come greet you. 

He’s so bright sometimes he makes your eyes hurt.

“You came! Jisung said you wouldn’t!” There’s a hug, enthusiastic on his end, less so on yours. No one dislikes Felix; it’s impossible, but he’s definitely good in small doses for you. “You brought beer?”

You nod and he takes it from you, leaving your hands empty with nothing to do.

“Come, come, have a drink.”

“Uh, I just brought that and wanted to say hi to Jisung.”

He hands you a bottle of something pink with a peach on the label before gesturing toward the middle of the house. “I think he’s in there somewhere.”

Did you mention you don’t love yelling?

The music and the din of human voices is a lot to your head, so you sip the drink to find it’s not too gross and the cold of it is welcome amidst the heat of bodies. You enter into the sea of people, some dancing, most talking, a few touching in ways that makes your skin crawl.

Seungmin bumps into you and greets you with the same apathy that makes you always think that you and he might be good friends if either of you tried. 

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask, wincing as you have to yell it to be heard.

Seungmin smiles and it makes you question everything. Because it’s too wicked to just be a smile brought by an innocuous question or even alcohol. 

“I think he’s over by the stairs. You should definitely say hi.”

If Felix is too bright to take in more than just a bit at a time, you’re more wary of Seungmin. You kinda hope you never see him smile again. It’s too unsettling.

You nod and move on through the house, avoiding touching people as much as possible because they smell of liquor and sweat and so many pheromones. 

It takes a few minutes to get to the stairs, but you do find Jisung who is staring into the crowd that is writhing in the living room. You quietly sidle up behind him (him unaware) to see what he’s seeing.

Ahhh. 

“Mi-sun, huh?”

He jumps and turns, almost knocking heads with you. You step back to give him space. He says your name, eyes wide and then quite delighted. He hugs you.

He hugs you.

Jisung doesn’t hug you. That’s not a thing between next door neighbors. But you can smell the mix of fruit juice and rum on him, so you think that it’s probably not surprising that intoxicated Jisung is affectionate. 

He is friends with Felix after all. 

You pat his back during the hug, but he doesn’t let go quickly. You feel his nose brush the fabric covering your neck before he draws back. 

“You’re here.”

You shrug, a little undone by how damn smiley he is. “I’m here.” You wait but he’s still staring and smiling at you, so you look away, pointing back toward the crowd. “You like Mi-sun?”

He follows your hand then looks back at you. “Uh, I mean…she’s pretty?” His brow is furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“You were staring at her.”

“No, I wasn’t.” There’s a pout added to his words, so you just shrug because why would you debate this.

“I just came to bring some beer and say hi,” you tell him. 

“What?”

God, do you have to yell everything?

“Come on,” he says when you shake your head. “We’ll go upstairs.” He takes your hand and leads you. You are so dumbfounded that you follow, half-stumbling up after him. 

He leads you to a room and hits the lights before pulling you in and shutting the door. You look around.

“There’s no way this is your room.” You have very vague recollections of his bedroom from when you two were in elementary. 

“It’s my brother’s.” His older brother is already in college. “Why isn’t it mine?” He plops on the edge of the bed and lays down. 

“Doesn’t feel like yours.” You assume that his room looks different from when you were kids, but maybe there are still Alvin and the Chipmunks sheets. 

“Valid.” He sighs. “There are so many people here.”

You sit next to him. “Yeah. I was gonna warn you that I think Mrs. Park has looked out her blinds at least three times.”

Another sigh as he looks up at the ceiling. “Fuck. I really thought it’d be like ten people.” He sits up and looks over at you. “You’re drinking.”

You look at the wine cooler and offer it to him. “I think I had three sips.”

He takes it and drinks it, eyes on you when his mouth touches the rim of the bottle. You tilt your head to the side, then decide not to ask about it. 

“So…a high school party…is it as great as the movies told us?” you ask, looking at his brother’s swimming trophies decorating one set of shelves. 

“Dunno. It’s my first legit party.”

“Same.” You doubt birthday parties from third grade when Doyung had to invite the entire class counted as ‘real’ parties. 

“It’s not horrible,” he says before saying your name. You turn to look at him to find that he’s only a few inches away. 

“What are you doing?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You freeze before jumping off the bed. “What?”

He makes a face before looking at the half-drunk bottle in his hands. “I know it’s weird, but it’s my first party. This’d be my first kiss.”

“There is probably someone down there who’d do that for you,” you stammer, trying not to look at his lips because that’s what the word ‘kiss’ has done to your brain. “I think Felix would.”

Jisung laughs before grinning at you. “He probably would, but…” he trails off, looking at you. 

“But…” You cross your arms, so he doesn’t think you are interested. Then it hits you. “Wait, is this because I always tell you the truth? Like you want to make sure you don’t suck? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Okay, maybe there’s some of that…” That shouldn’t be as disappointing as it is to you, but he continues, “But also…” he swallows nervously. “I want to kiss you.”

Your brain has stopped computing. 

“You…want to kiss me?” You are surprised you can even speak. “Why?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You move back to sit on the bed, a foot or two between you and him. “I…” You meet his gaze. “How drunk are you?”

He shrugs with an embarrassed smile. “Two drinks? I mean, I won’t lie, I definitely probably wouldn’t have asked you if I was fully sober, but I’m not…impaired or anything.” He scoots a little closer. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I might cry about it later, but–” He laughs when you punch his arm with no force. 

It’s hard not to stare at him. Whether it’s the alcohol or something else that makes his eyes all sparkly, he’s turning into someone quite pretty. His nose still doesn’t quite fit his face and he’s more of a toothpick than human. 

But he’s pretty.

And probably the only person you know who you could kiss and not be worried as much about the aftermath. Maybe growing up with him just means he isn’t so scary.

Maybe it just means that he’s safe.

“Okay.”

His eyes widen at your admission. “Yeah? Oh. Okay.” He turns more toward you. “So, you have to be honest. I really have a lot of overcome in the romance department, but I think being a good kisser could like be my chance to outweigh the rest of it.”

You laugh, you can’t help it. “You’re pretty great as is, Jisung.”

His mouth parts, eyes boring into yours. “Thanks.”

You shake your head at the near mesmerizing effect of his big brown eyes. “Rules though.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Hands nowhere that bikini covers .” Even saying it outloud makes you cringe, but you really have no desire to find out if you like being groped or not. 

“Uhhhh, same?” He covers his hands over his chest like the cups of a bikini top and you giggle because he’s funny and cute and you’re going to kiss him. You lean closer. His eyes drop to your mouth, his hands falling from his chest to the mattress. “Anything else?” his voice is pitched high and you wonder if your voice does something to give away your nerves too. 

“I don’t think so?” Yeah, your voice doesn’t quite sound normal. 

He reaches out, one hand touching your cheek while the other rests on your thigh. He lets out a shuddery breath. 

“Soft,” he whispers before his eyes close which reminds you that you should close your eyes, too. You feel his lips brush yours hesitantly before settling with a bit more confidence. His hand cups your face as his mouth moves. 

It’s nice. It’s interesting.

He draws back, but his hands linger. Eyes open, and he gazes at you. 

“Okay?”

You nod, curious because you feel like it should be more. You aren’t sheltered. You’ve seen kisses on screen, in real life, but it’s not like you’ve studied. Kissing for any length of time requires movement. So you move.

You press your mouth to his, hands pushed down on the mattress as you edge ever closer. His index finger traces the shell of your ear when you open your mouth so your tongue can touch the seam of his lips. You feel him visibly jolt, but he gives you no time to question or apologize for that as he returns it. 

Oh…ohhhhh.

As his tongue slides along yours, his hand on your thigh clenches. It’s like a chain reaction; his hand on your leg draws you more to him, your hands finding his waist and hips. He makes a sound that spurs on his tongue so much that you pull back.

“No.”

His eyes flutter open. “What?”

“I mean,” you feel dazed yourself. “Not so much tongue.” You brush back his hair when his hand drops to your shoulder. “No lizards.”

He winces. “Sorry.” The flush on his cheeks catches your attention and you lean in to kiss the heated skin. His breath catches. 

“What about me?” you ask, fascinated at the give of his cheeks. You press another kiss. “Any tips?”

“No.” It’s more of a groan and you raise your eyes to his. “You…you’re very good.” He doesn’t elaborate, but kisses you again. You feel the intrusion of his tongue, but it’s slower…like he’s savoring. 

It’s so much better. 

You’re unaware of much beyond the kissing, your hands having a mind of their own as one slips under his t-shirt to trace the slope of his back. You’re not quite conscious of maneuvering him so he’s lying back on the bed and you are straddling him on your knees, reluctant to break away from his mouth. You do though, you draw away and look down at him; his swollen lips, red and shiny. His dark eyes and flushed skin. How his fingers wrap around your waist, gripping tightly. 

“Better?” he questions, breathless.

“Much.” One more kiss, this one soft and he whines when you pull away again. “I think you’ll be just fine, Jisung.”

He sits up as you move off of him. Reality comes back, your brain returning to its normal functioning. You stay on the edge of the bed, staring anywhere but at him. 

He fills the space next to you, so quiet. He says your name, and you dare to glance over. 

You kiss him again, the urge strong. He cradles your face in his hands, kissing you back. It’s more sweet than heated.

There’s a loud crash sounding from downstairs, and he jerks away before looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Shit.”

“You better go.”

He glances at the door then back at you, his hands leaving your face. “Yeah…are you going home?”

“Yeah. I think…I think I should.” You miss his hands already.

You both stand and you slide your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. He reaches out to touch where your neck is covered by your shirt. You freeze, staring at him. He shrugs, not saying anything. 

“I’ll…I’ll see ya.” He disappears through the door, shutting it behind him. You don’t move for a minute, trying to feel like you have control over your body before you leave. 

As you make your way through the party-goers, you’re almost out the back door when you hear someone (Seungmin you think) holler “Cops on their way!”

It’s a mad dash that you make in front of the departing crowd. You step back over the fence, hurrying into your house before watching the people and the cars all race off. You wait several more minutes once everything has gone quiet to realize that the cops aren’t coming. 

Pretty effective way to end a party, though.

Your phone vibrates.

Night.

—

If you had friends, especially female friends, you might have talked to them about it. Might have discussed the whys and hows and what to do now of it all. But you don’t think your mom is the right person to tell about the party at the Han’s house, and the few kids in high school you do interact with aren’t exactly interested in anything about your life. Your conversations consist of retelling what assignments someone missed and how high school is hell. 

You definitely don’t talk to Jisung about it. 

When you see him at school the following Monday, he smiles at you, but is distracted by one of his dance team members. You maintain the status quo which is little engagement with anyone at school, even Jisung. 

What is there to talk about? It was a kiss (several) and just two neighbors experimenting. It’s not anything else.

It definitely doesn’t mean you like Jisung or anything.

It’s two months later that you see him talking with Mi-sun by the lockers, her hand on his arm that you reiterate to yourself that you don’t like him.

Because that would be stupid. 

—

~Twelfth Grade~

High school is hell, but you weather it well enough. You pass your classes, you get a decent score on the SAT even though you think university is a pointless experience. It appeases your parents that you do apply and do accept going to a school in state, but farther away than you’ve ever been. 

You’ve been working a part-time job at a bookstore for the last two years, finally earning enough for a used car. Which means you don’t text your neighbor for any late night excursions. Even though he’s asked at least twice. 

He’s easy to avoid if you try. 

But not at the graduation bonfire. It’s tradition. The powers-that-be in your small town look the other way when the graduated seniors set up a party on the outskirts, in the woods. Bonfire, drinks, very little food and somehow it’s okay as long as no one drives home. 

You go because you’re curious. You’ve been to maybe three parties since Jisung’s because it makes your parents less annoying when you do ‘normal’ teen things. You haven’t stopped your research and exploring, but you hide it better. 

It’s the last high school thing you’ll ever have, so you go. 

It’s not about Jisung.

But you do see him once you grab a beer to keep your hands occupied. He’s laughing with Seungmin and Felix and other schoolmates that you know by sight. You know that he did date Mi-sun for probably a good year or so because even though you are a nobody in your school, it’s small enough that dating rumors and truths get to everyone, even the outsiders. 

You force yourself to look away from him when he smiles because it’s still bright and happy and it hurts. 

The bonfire crackles and burns bright in front of you as you fiddle with your open bottle. 

“Hey, you came!”

Apparently he saw you too.

You force a smile to your lips. “Hey Jisung.”

He steps in next to you, clinking your bottle with his. “Happy ‘we’re done with this hellhole’!” He seems a little intoxicated, giddy from the ceremony of the day. 

“Sure.”

He turns to you. “Your mom said you were going to Southern?”

“Yeah. And you’re going to State with Seungmin and Felix.” You take a sip and make a face. 

“Yeah.” There’s a pause. “Guess we won’t be neighbors.” 

Why does he have to sound bummed about it? What does he care?

“Yep.”

“What does an aspiring vampire-ologist major in?” His smile hasn’t faded, but you realize that you’re just not in the mood for his teasing. Even if he’s one of the only people who’s never mocked you for your life-long preoccupation.

“What do you major in when you just do everything your friends do?” 

You can see him still in the corner of your eye. The smile drops, the easy and open manner closes off. 

“What?”

You turn to him, angry for reasons you can never tell him because it’s probably not his fault that you went and developed a crush on the boy next door, but you convince yourself if he hadn’t kissed you, you wouldn’t be like this. 

You wouldn’t like Han Jisung.

“Just curious if going to college with your best friends from high school is such a good idea. I mean, will you ever figure out what you actually want to do if you keep following them?”

The bonfire paints flickering light over his face, shadowing the entirety of his expression. But you can see enough. 

You’ve hurt him. You’re not friends but you never wanted to hurt him. 

“At least I don’t live in a fantasy because I refuse to deal with the real world and actually interacting with humans. I don’t prefer mythological creatures over actual people.” He spits out words like they’ve been festering inside for far too long. “At least people know I exist.”

He holds your gaze, your glare for as long as it takes you to let his words settle in your mind. It’s a direct hit. And only he knows you well enough to do it so keenly.

You hate that you just now realize how well he knows you. 

“Have a nice life, Jisung.” You toss your bottle into the bonfire, watching the mini explosion with disinterest before walking away. 

—

~First Year at University~

When you see Jisung in his backyard during winter break, you pause in your thoughts about going out to look at the stars. You haven’t spoken to him since graduation night. You saw him load up his truck and leave about three days before you left for your college. There has been no contact in any way. You almost made a profile to see if he posted on tiktok or instagram or anything, but school takes over as it always does, and you don’t want to feel weak. 

Even if you wish you could apologize. 

You don’t go back home until winter break. Your parents check in with you, but you’re convinced that they’re just grateful that you’re finally out of the house. As the semester wears on, you don’t blame them. 

It’s three days before Christmas when you see Jisung in the backyard with Bbama. You were about to walk out, look up at the stars and soak in the wintry quiet. You hesitate in seeing your neighbor, wondering if you can actually do this. 

You go out anyway.

In a tufted beanie and big puffy jacket, Jisung spins around at the noise of the sliding doors opening. Even from this distance, with the back door lights illuminating, you can see his eyes widen.

You wave. “Hey Jisung.”

His shoulders drop in relief. “Hey.”

You walk over to the fence, pulling tighter on the hood of your sweatshirt. You squat down to pet Bbama over the fence. 

“So…” you begin, looking up as your neighbor walks over. “How was college?”

He half-smiles and squats down too, eyes on Bbama. “Is it strange to say life-changing?”

You stare at him as he rubs Bbama’s hindquarters. You need to know. You need to know if getting away from home, from the drama of high school, from everything of before also irrevocably altered him and the journey he thought he was on. 

“No,” you say. He looks at you then and seems to understand that there’s a lot you’re not saying. “Wanna tell me about it?”

The half-smile stretches into a full one. “Yeah, okay.”

He drives you both out to the woods, to a very large clearing so you both can lie in the bed of his truck and stare up at the stars, unpolluted by light. He throws a blanket over you before adjusting an old hoodie under his head for a makeshift pillow.

“I’m sorry.”

You still look at the stars, but you can feel his gaze. 

“You are?”

“For what I said at the bonfire. I was…” One of the reasons you never apologized was that you weren’t sure how to without revealing how angry you were and that the source of your anger was your silly crush on him. “I was angry and I took it out on you. I’ve always thought your friendship with Seungmin and Felix was really nice.”

He lets out a soft breath. “You could have been friends with them too.”

You snort. “Yeah, I wasn’t really about that.”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry too. For saying what I did about you living in fantasy and–”

“I don’t think you were entirely wrong,” you interrupt. “I think there was some element of avoiding life.”

“Did you have to take Psych 101 too this semester?”

You laugh, turning your head to look at him. He’s looking up at the sky, giving you a picture-perfect view of his profile.

He’s grown even more, in just five months. 

“I did.”

“Me too. So, I think you weren’t completely wrong either. About me.” He moves and sits up, leaning back against the cab of the truck. You do the same, wrapping the blanket around you. “It’s easier to be what others what you to be than to figure out what you really want.”

You’re both quiet for a few minutes, hearing the wind whistle through the bare and needled trees. 

“Did you? Did you figure out what you want?”

He nods. “I…I started writing.”

“Writing?”

In your peripheral, you can see him swallow nervously. 

“What kind of writing?”

“Lyrics. Music. Poetry.” He turns toward you. “I had to take a writing class to get it out the way and only one was available…poetry. I shouldn’t have even gotten into it, it’s a 300 level…a total glitch, but it was so good and I liked it so much and–” He cuts himself off, looking away and even though it’s dark you can tell he’s blushing. “I think I’m pretty good at it.”

“Are you going to like…be a song-writer?”

“Maybe? I’m taking two music production classes next semester. It might be awful. I might be awful at it.”

“But you might not be.”

He looks back at you and does that half-smile again. “Yeah. I might not be.”

“That’s really awesome, Jisung.” You reach out and squeeze his arm, which really is just you squeezing the puffy jacket. “I’m happy you found that.”

“What about you? You made it sound like…like college was life-changing for you too.”

You take a deep breath.

“Still researching?”

“No.”

If you were in a drama, he would have gasped with such a reveal. But it’s just quiet. Cold and quiet. 

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not real.”

Maybe that’s when a gasp would happen. 

“I…um, really?”

You laugh at how he’s trying to sound surprised. 

“I mean I noticed you aren’t covering your neck like you usually do at night, but–” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he noticed that.

“I know. I know. I was so adamant about them being real. And who knows? Maybe they do exist. They’re just really good at hiding.” You sober up. “There was this flyer-poster thingy on the bulletin boards and on the community website for extracurriculars and clubs and stuff. It said something like “Find out about real vampires’ or whatever. I thought maybe I’d found others like me.”

You look back up at the sky.

“But you didn’t.”

“No. It wasn’t a big group. In some tiny classroom in the history building. The person who spoke was an activist.” You feel your voice break. “About sex-trafficking.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah. And like, went on about the statistics, and how it happens here, not in some country a million miles away. I almost cried in the meeting. These kids, people our age and younger are being enslaved and assulated on the daily and…” You trail off. “I mean, we’ve all heard about it before, just something about then, that moment. Here I was, trying to write a manifesto about some fictional character trope and there were children out there, being…” You press your lips together and take another deep breath. “It was eye-opening.”

“I can imagine.”

You swallow your emotions a little, wondering if you would ever become jaded when you thought about it. 

“Anyway. I finally picked my major. I’m doing sociology and criminal justice. I don’t know what that means really, except…”

“I think that means you know what matters to you.” 

You turn to him. “Yeah. I guess so.”

He smiles. “Well, my lyric-writing turn feels really underwhelming right now.”

You laugh and lightly punch his shoulder. “I bet your words are really wonderful. Thoughtful. Powerful.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You don’t know that.”

“Well, no, I don’t. But you were always a good friend to me…You’re really empathetic which I bet comes out in your writing.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve admitted that we’re friends.”

You huff and punch him again before crossing your arms to look back out into the dark night. “Whatever.”

“I think your obstinacy will serve you well in what you wanna do, Van Helsing.” 

You smile at the nickname. 

“Hey.”

You turn again toward him. He’s moved closer. 

“I’m excited for you.”

You can’t help but soak in his warmth from being closer and that smile of his. “Thanks. I’m terrified.”

“I think that’s good. I’ve never seen you scared.”

“I’ve seen you scared.”

He makes a face. “Well, that’s what I get for having a girl like you next door.” He meets your eyes for a couple seconds. “I’m sorry too.”

“About?”

“The party at my house.” 

You can actually feel your heart speed up. 

“We were kids.”

“But I liked you.” He shrugs. “And I got to kiss you but did nothing about it. Which feels both dumb and spineless. You didn’t seem to be interested so I just kinda decided to not bring it up again.”

You can’t take looking at him in the eyes for this, so you stare at the trees in the distance. “You liked me?”

“Of course. So I’m sorry I kinda made it about it being my first time and like, practice when it was definitely more than that. I took your first kiss too.”

“I agreed,” you say softly. “I agreed because it was you.” You reach out and smooth the wrinkles in his forehead from his worry. “I didn’t bring it up either. Even though it mattered.”

He doesn’t look away from you. “Yeah. It mattered.” He links his hand with yours. 

You stare at your connected hands because it’s almost as unfathomable as you pursuing something that wasn’t vampires. 

“Jisung.”

“Hmm?”

“You said you ‘liked’ me. Past tense.”

“I did.”

“Well, I like you.” You force your eyes back to his. “Present tense.”

“Yeah?” If there’s a trace of knowing in his voice and expression, you can forgive him. Because he’s always been perceptive and observant. Maybe your crush wasn’t as unnoticed as you thought. 

“Yeah.” You laugh in self-reproach. “I mean, I think you’re the only thing outside of my research that I even thought about.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he’s grinning, still holding your hand.

“Say something.”

“That’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

You roll your eyes, but don’t move away. “Are you a better kisser now?”

You can see and hear how his breath catches at your question. “Um…I think so. I got really good advice from a friend, once. Not too much tongue.”

“That is a good friend.” You aren’t sure which of you is moving closer to the other, or if both of you are doing it simultaneously, but his lips are definitely nearer. 

“Yeah. I like her.” 

“Still?”

He nods, so close his lips brush yours just from that movement. He lingers, before kissing you more firmly, his other hand coming around to cup your face. 

Maybe you don’t remember it that well, but you think he has improved. His tongue touching yours sends shivers through you that have nothing to do with the cold. But he notices. 

“I better get you home. It’s freezing.”

You protest, and he kisses you on the lips in response before dropping his head and pressing his lips to your neck.

“I wanted to do this that night,” he whispers against your skin, then looks up at you. “Kiss you here.” 

You cup his face in your hands, mouth meeting his, your fingers sliding into his hair. The way he kisses, the changing rhythm; his hands trailing under your hoodie and up your sides; all of it just causes your fingers to tighten in his hair, relishing the silky feel and hearing how he shudders at the slight pull. 

He drags you closer, almost into his lap, but the wind picks up, blowing through the both of you so you simultaneously shiver. He chuckles against your lips. 

“I better take you home. Getting sick on winter break would be the worst.” 

You agree, but not without wrapping around him, kissing again. He eventually draws away, but lets your noses brush.

“The image of you above me, kissing me that night. Seared into my brain for eternity.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he climbs out of the bed of the truck and holds out his hand to help you, but you throw the blanket over his head before climbing out on your own. He’s laughing when he gets into the driver's seat to drive you back. 

When he parks in his driveway, it’s quiet again. And your mind wanders.

“So…what does this mean, exactly?” you ask carefully. 

He takes your hand in his, turning his body toward you, eyes soft and warm. “Means whatever we want it to.”

“We go to different schools.”

“True.”

“We are just now figuring out who we are and what we want to do.”

“Also true.”

You huff at him. “Long distance, even two hours or whatever rarely works.”

His smile grows. “You looked up how long it takes to drive between our schools?”

It’s beyond embarrassing so you pull your hand out of his, and get out of his truck. He follows soon after, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, his mouth pressing against your temple. 

“It’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Whatever.”

He draws back, not letting go, but so you can look at each other. “Two hours is nothing. We drove almost that far to look at an empty house.”

It reminds you again. That he pays attention. That he cares so deeply about his friends that he does stuff with them. Even hunting something that doesn’t exist. 

You kiss him before drawing back to say, “True. Two hours is nothing.”

His answering smile fills you with so much affection, you wonder if it was inevitable; falling for the boy next door. 

---

(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[phoenixshusband]

If you think Spider saved Quaritch for no reason you’re wrong, like entirely. Spider is 16. Keep that in mind for all of this. 16. Your brain finishes developing in your mid-20’s, Spider is still a teenager.

More below the cut cause I know people hate scrolling for ages through long text posts lol

Spider is a teenager that has grown up never fitting in, physically he’s human, but he’s grown up with the Na’vi and so the way he acts and thinks is that of the Na’vi. Because of this he simply will never fit in, he will always be an outsider no matter what he does. This is a child that is viewed as different and wrong in many ways, those he looks up to look down on him in all possible ways, quite literally treating him as a stray rather than a child. No, Neytiri and Jake have no obligation to raise or treat him like one of the family but as adults they do have an obligation to ensure a child is being raised right and being treated right, all adults have that no matter who they are.

So you take a child that feels like an outsider, doesn’t fit in, is mentally struggling and you have him kidnapped by the RDA and a man who is technically his father, have a guess what happens. Yeah, he gets more fucked up. I don’t know what the fuck that thought extractor machine thing is but it’s looks horrific, if Spider didn’t have epilepsy before I’m willing to bet he does now. And in this time of torture, imprisonment and fear it’s not Jake or anyone else from the camp that come save him, it’s Quaritch. Quaritch saves him, that instantly creates a bond as Quaritch gives him a freedom and safety he wouldn’t get otherwise.

With Quaritch Spider gets freedom, he can test the limits as all children will, he gets to ride on an ikran right at the front as though he was flying it, Spider gets to see even more of Pandora. Not to mention literally no one came for him, the adults (and I mean all of them not just the Jake and Neytiri) abandoned him despite knowing that the RDA is cruel enough to torture a child, they knew what he might be facing and they just left him. This kid must be in mental hell.

And it all crescendos when Neytiri tries to kill him. I do not care what you say Neytiri was justified in killing every single person on that ship brutally, they all deserved it but not Spider. He’s a teenager and innocent, she was not justified in doing that. I’m not here to shit on Neytiri though, she’s an incredibly complex and deep character written beautifully and I adore her, but that doesn’t mean wrongful actions can’t be recognised.

Which perfectly leads us to the moment. Spider is underwater, there isn’t time to think only time to act and Spider, traumatised and scared, does. And he does the stupid move of saving Quaritch. But as I’ve said he had a reason to do it, a motivation, just as Neytiri had one to put a blade to his neck.

Spider saving Quaritch does not represent the failings of his morals and his character but instead represent the failings of those around him, the scientists had an obligation to raise him and at the very least Jake had an obligation to ensure a child wasn’t being damaged mentally as he grew up, both failed in doing this and as a result a teenager was pushed to the point of breaking and he did.

Spider is not a bad kid. Neytiri is not a bad person. Jake is not a bad father. All of these can be true and so can the fact that they each did the wrong thing, and that’s a fact.

All it takes is:

Jake: Hey Norm, Spiders been hanging around the kids a lot more and I’m worried some issues might start developing, mind checking in on him?

Norm: Yeah sure Jake, no problem.

And then he talks to Spider and they can find a way to help him with his issues. That’s it! Easy.

[forthevillains]

Careful who you marry

Albert Wesker X fem! Reader

(I just love the idea of Wesker going soft, but also panicking after finding someone who genuinely cares for him)

Albert Wesker, the man people fear, the man responsible for countless of deaths, the cold blooded bioterrorist known to the world as pure evil. Though what if he had a cute little wife to hide? What if all that facade would go away the second he gets home and sees his precious darling.

Wesker isn’t the one to make his emotions clear, he’s not the one to love and on top of that, he thought that he wasn’t able to feel any emotion at all. He was never loved by anyone nor has he ever felt the emotion towards another human being. All he’s ever had was his sister and William Birkin, his only friend.

That though, changed once he met you. You, his loving wife, you who always listened to him, no matter what it was, no matter that you barely understood a word he was saying. You who always saw the better in him, the good side that no one thought existed at all. He was living his life, worried about the new world, worried about survival of his test subjects, worried about the future… But once you came in - he was suddenly worried of disappointing you much more.

You may have fallen for him first, but he definitely fell a lot harder. It was difficult for him, dealing with the sudden emotions, not knowing what is he to do, how to handle such situation. He would ignore you at first, distance himself even, wanting nothing more than to get rid off you and that addicting voice of yours that stayed in his head for days after talking to you.

That poor guy… Of course you didn’t leave. You insisted on being by his side, he was just a helpless soul, abandoned and left to die alone. It was difficult to keep up with him, especially for you, someone who’s still young, inexperienced, with the whole life ahead of you, but you managed it anyway.

Wesker loved you dearly, wanting nothing more than to protect you from the corrupted world, from the terror, from all the people that wanted him dead. Your innocence was something he promised himself to keep for you. He would never forgive himself if he ruined your life, he would never forgive himself if you hated to be by his side, if you hated him. Never in his life has he been this way and there’s still a part of him that is unsure of the decision, but whenever he thinks of a life without you - he realizes that he’d be better off dead.

On the other hand, he really tries for you, he’d even go as far as to tell you that he loves you, though it sure took a lot of time for him to find the nerves to say it out loud. And when he says it - he means it. Albert would surely spoil you, making up for all the time you have to spend alone, basically locked up while he works so that no one could hurt you. Whatever you want is yours, no matter how much it costs - he’s gonna buy it for you. When he comes to you by the midnight only to find you awake and waiting for him, there’s a small smile tugging at his lips at the realization of how much you missed him. He makes sure to wrap his arms around you tightly, planting small kisses in your hair as he squeezes your small form gently. You’ve created a home for him, something he loves to come back to at the end of the day. You’ve become his comfort, something he wasn’t used to and didn’t know he needed.

If Chris was about to find out about you, he’d be marked as dead. Immediately. Albert would be too concerned about losing you, about Chris telling you all about their past, about the terrible things he’s done and he can’t let that happen. No matter the good intentions he’s created in his own mind, he knows that you wouldn’t understand. And he can’t risk scaring you off now that the two of you have come this far. You’re stuck with him, loved by only him, protected from all the world’s wrongs, while your loving husband gets more and more blood on his hands just for you. It’s love after all isn’t it? A true husband would kill for his wife, right? He isn’t doing anything wrong… Though he’ll keep it away from you anyway, just in case. He tries so hard for you it’s making him look crazy:(

Just hope that you won’t want to get away from him, because he’s not letting you go, not after all he’s done for you, he’s gonna make sure of it.

[traveler-at-heart]

Finding Home - Part 3

Summary: This is a series imagining what it was life for Natasha after joining S.H.I.E.L.D.

Warnings: Violence, injuries.

Part 1, Part 2

There were only five people in the room.

“Jericho missiles” Fury says as soon as the door is shut. Clint looks at you, alarmed.

“What are those?” Natasha says and Maria turns to the screen.

“Developed by Tony Stark. Selects a target, at a certain height it splits into 16 smaller missiles to have a cleaner impact. The shockwave is also more devastating”

There’s footage of tests conducted in military facilities playing on the screen.

“Obadiah Stane sold five of these to the Ten Rings. Stark was able to destroy them all. Or so he thought” Fury pushes three identical folders in the direction of Clint, Natasha and you.

“There are still two” Clint confirms after skimming through the file.

“At an abandoned factory, close to the Canadian border” Natasha reads out loud, going through all the information at record speed.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how heavily guarded are these bad boys?” you ask Fury.

“They have grenades up their asses”

“So, like a seven”

“Not funny, Agent” he warns, but you turn to Natasha, who let out a small chuckle.

“She thinks it is”

“It will get old really fast. Trust me” the man says and she rolls her eyes. “You leave tomorrow, before the Ten Rings decide it’s time to light up the sky in an American city”

“Let’s go over strategy today. Natasha’s suit and weapons should be ready” Maria proposes.

“I’m looking at the Widow Bites” you interrupt.

“Farley said that if you messed with his tech again he’d quit” Fury reminds you.

“Good riddance. He’s an idiot and she’s not going on a mission with faulty equipment”

“Fine. Hill” Fury nods in confirmation and they leave the room.

“What was that?” Natasha turns to you, but you shrug your shoulders, projecting the map of the factory and reading the file.

“Oh, now you’re modest about it?” Clint teases. “Y/N here is an MIT graduate. Mechanical Engineering, top of the class”

“It was a small class”

“If she wasn’t an agent she’d be running the design department. Made my arrows ten times lighter and faster. Deadly too”

“That’s enough. I just want to make sure Nat has the best equipment” you wave dismissively, still looking at the map.

It’s an important mission, yes. But your priority is Natasha.

—

“Fucking Farley” you mutter for the tenth time, making Clint chuckle.

As suspected, the Widow Bites have a short range and the voltage isn’t enough to incapacitate enemies, so you’ll be fixing that as everyone else discusses the plan.

“Y/N is coming in first. Once she disables the security, Romanoff and I will go set the explosives for the missiles” Clint says, going over the map of the warehouse.

“I’m not leaving her alone” Natasha says and while you keep your eyes on the Widow bites, correcting the wiring, you smile.

“It’s fine, Nat. It’s my area of expertise. I’ll hack their systems, keep an eye out and will join you once the explosives are set” you look up, nodding her way. Maria walks in, looking over your shoulder. “Tell Fury he needs to kick fuckface Farley to the curve”

“Noted, Brains. Which one of you will be Brawn?” Maria turns, smiling teasingly at Natasha and Clint.

“I’m Beauty” Clint says, turning to Natasha. “Romanoff?”

“Sorry to break it to you, but Natasha is all three” you say, removing the magnifying glasses and stretching your back. “Is it dinner time yet?”

“Our order should be ready. I’ll pick it up” Natasha offers, taking the car keys.

“Don’t forget about the…”

“Extra rice, yes” she rolls her eyes and Clints follows right behind, ready to take a break.

Maria sits right next to you, and you don’t need to turn around to know she’s staring.

“Yes, Hill?”

“So when are you asking her out?”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, come on” she pushes your chair and you roll away, annoyed. “You compliment her, she knows about your special order, the pining and the heart eyes”

“I’m one of the few people who treat her like a human being. That’s all” you say, hoping it’s the end of the conversation. Maria throws you a paper ball, just like in your academy days and you snort. “Ass. Yes, I like her. But she’s barely had a life. I can’t ask her out and make it awkward. Natasha needs to live and experience things and once she knows what she wants… maybe I’ll do something about my feelings. Until then…” you point at your friend, and she nods, motioning as if her lips are sealed.

You just hope your feelings for Natasha won’t get in the way of this mission.

—

The air is colder than you anticipated.

“Good to go?” Clint says, looking over his shoulder. You try your comms and go over the equipment. Once you nod, he lowers the jet, counting down to prepare you for the fall.

“Be careful” Natasha says. It’s the first things she’s said to you since you left headquarters.

“Chinese for dinner?” you say with a smile, hoping that it will ease the tension. Natasha nods and you wave, jumping into the darkness.

The landing is a bit rougher than you would have wanted since the parachute was dragged around by the wind, but nothing is broken and you can disable the security alarm in the hatch.

From there, your next stop is to the control room. There’s only one man monitoring the cameras, and you knock him unconscious before he can reach for his gun.

“I’m in. You have twenty minutes” you announce.

“Got it”

Out of pure curiosity, you look over at the computer on the side, browsing through the files.

“Clint” you say as you stumble upon Stark’s designs.

“I’m kinda busy” he says, installing the explosives around the warehouse.

“They have intelligence on other Stark weaponry. Should I make a copy and then clean up their files?”

“Proceed. But be on the lookout, we’re almost done here”

“I can multitask” you say, pulling out a drive to copy all the files. The encryption will have to be done later, but for now, eliminating everything they have should be enough.

Either way, the entire building is blowing up in a few minutes.

An alarm blares across every hallway, and you look up, surprised.

“What the fuck, Y/N? We’re not done here” Barton barks, clearly in a hurry to finish the job now that you’ve been discovered.

“It wasn’t me” you say, frantically looking at the cameras. There’s a man with long hair that frames his face, covered up to his eyes with a dark mask. “We have company. I’m locking the doors on your side, exit through the vent”

“That means you won’t be able to get out” Natasha protests.

“I’ll find another way and meet you. You have to go. Our friend here seems to be… in a hurry”

Your blood runs cold when you see him punching his way through the guards. He is a super soldier, judging by his strenght and now you’re trapped with him on this side of the building.

“Fuckfuckfuck”

Pulling the drive to your pocket, you leave the room and go to the side farthest away from the man.

The thing is, he seems to be going through the walls instead of using doors, so the distance grows smaller with each of his steps.

“Natasha is gone” Clint informs you as you’re sneaking around. That makes you stop in your tracks.

“Bullshit”

She wouldn’t.

“The minute we were out she ran away in the opposite direction. I’m on the jet now. Give me your location”

“East side of the…”

The sound of metal and concrete cracking surprises you from behind, and you come face to face with the man.

He takes your gun and twists your arm, but you aim at one of the pipes in the ceiling to give you a few seconds to run. You can feel him going right behind you, dangerously close.

“The building is blowing up in five minutes, Y/N” Clint says.

“Thanks, I’m trying not to get killed by fucking Frankenstein” a heavy metal arm pulls you down, punching you two times until you’re gasping for air.

He then kicks you down a couple of stairs, and you hang on to the railing by an inch. Once he glances over to check if you’re still alive, you shoot at his eyes, protected by the mask.

Wrong move, as he’s not pleased in the slightest.

Dropping a few feet to the ground, you begin to run down the exit.

A few things happen at the same time.

You turn and see Natasha, breaking a door. You smile at her. Of course she wouldn’t leave. Her eyes widen, and when you turn around, the man is raising his gun.

Two shots and then you’re down, hot liquid spilling down your stomach and leg.

“Y/N” Natasha screams, throwing Widow Bites to the man. His arm is briefly paralized and Natasha takes advantage of the moment to help you up. You limp against her, feeling the building shake.

“Come on, Clint is waiting outside”

Luckily, the ceiling behind you begins to fall, putting some concrete between you and the man.

The next minutes are confusing, since you struggle to remain conscious.

“HQ, this is Barton. We have an agent down. We’ll be there soon” you hear Clint report. There’s a pressure in your abdomen but you can’t look down. “Natasha, I have to fly this thing, keep her awake”

“Y/N” the woman says, trying to stop the bleeding. “Look at me. You can’t fall asleep now”

“I’ll be fine. You were great today, Natasha. I knew you’d be a great agent. Would you tell my mom that I…?”

“Tell her yourself”

“Don’t be a сука” you mumble, your eyelids heavier.

“What is the one thing you always wanted to do?” she asks, desperate to keep you talking.

“I always wanted a cat. My sister’s allergic” you drag your words. But then, you turn to the redhead, smiling. “What about you?”

“A rollercoaster” Natasha says without hesitation. Your smile grows.

“We’ll go to Connie Island, it’s gonna be so much fun…”

“Y/N, stay with me, don’t close your eyes”

But you’re too tired to listen.

—

“Her family should be here any minute” Fury steps in, eyeing your bruised face. Three surgeries later and the doctors think you have a pretty good chance of recovering.

Natasha and Clint are sitting by your side, their eyes glued to the monitor that keeps beeping.

“The man… had any of you seen him before?”

“I thought he was a myth” Natasha says, the image of the metal arm and the symbol on it etched on her brain. “They call him the Winter Soldier”

“KGB?” Clint guesses.

“HYDRA”

“That’s ten times worse” Fury sighs, turning to the Russian. “We’ll need your help to figure out who he is. But for now… nice job”

“I should have done more” Natasha says when Fury leaves the room.

“She’s alive because of you” Clint protests. “But you should let me know, I thought you were running away. When you want to pull a rescue, at least tell me where to fly the jet”

“Ok” the redhead nods.

“Let’s get something to eat. You know Y/N wouldn’t want you to starve yourself”

—

When Natasha and Clint come back to your room, Maria is talking to an older woman. She has eyes like yours, and a smilar hair color, which makes Natasha think it’s your mother.

“You saved my daughter” she says as soon as Natasha walks in. Your mother hugs her tight, thanking her.

She has no idea that this is all new to Natasha, especially the hugging part.

“Let’s go over some forms” Maria rescues the redhead, walking the older woman to the door.

Her words echo and Natasha goes over them till she loses count.

She’s never saved a life before. She never had someone thanking her for keeping a loved one safe.

Maybe, there’s hope for her after all.

—

It’s been a few days and you have yet to open your eyes.

Natasha stays next to you, and reads out loud the way you did for her. Your mom is in the couch, knitting as she listens, keeping an eye on the girl.

Even if she’s not aware of Natasha’s circunstamces, she can tell there are strong feelings involved between you two.

“How long have you been at SHIELD?” the woman says, examining the green pattern on the scarf she’s knitting.

“Not long” Natasha tenses, hoping it won’t be necessary to bring up her past as a former assassin.

“Y/N’s father was in the CIA. Her sisters were more… I don’t know. They argued over clothes and wanted to wear makeup. Y/N would work on cars with her dad or build stuff”

“That sounds nice”

“It was, yes. Drives me crazy that she risks her life for a living. But it’s in her blood, I guess”

“She’s a great agent. And a wonderful person. You did a good job raising her”

“You’re too kind” the woman says, pulling the scarf and presenting it to the redhead. “Here. This color brings out your beautiful eyes”

Natasha is hesitant as she takes the green scarf, inspecting the fine knitting and feeling the softness of the fabric against her fingertips.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you���

“Thank you. For saving her. I’m happy to know my daughter has wonderful partners. I like you, Natasha”

“I’m glad to hear that, because I kinda gave her the secret pasta recipe” you say with a weak voice, making both women rush to your side.

“Oh, sweetheart” your mom says, running her hands through your hair.

“Sorry to make you come all the way here. I know you hate flying”

“No, don’t be silly. Plus, I’ve spent some time getting to know Natasha. You guys make a great couple”

“Ma!” you protest, the monitor beeping loudly as your mother teases you. “Would you be a dear and get the doctor? I really want to eat something that isn’t hospital food”

Your mother rolls her eyes, but leaves and you stare at Natasha.

“Thank you for saving me”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s not nothing. I’m alive because of you, Natasha Romanoff”

“I guess it’s our thing, isn’t it? Saving each other” she smiles, her hand inching towards yours.

“Yes. Yes it is”

—

The doctor promises you’ll be discharged in a few days, but there’s a long road ahead for your recovery. At least six months without missions.

Fury stops by, surprising you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, eyeing the box of chocolates that Maria brought you. “You mind?”

“Help yourself, boss” he picks a sweet and nods approvingly, clearly stalling. “Come on, you’re not one to sugarcoat things”

“The drive you took. It does have some very detailed information on Stark’s tech. I know we discussed an undercover mission a while back… but I decided to send Natasha instead”

“As what? I was supposed to be a new engineer on his team”

“Legal. Close to Pepper Potts. And hopefully, Agent Romanoff will charm Stark”

“Oh, Nick. Come on, not the playboy angle” you protest. There’s an unpleasant feeling at the pit of your stomach as you imagine Natasha dealing with Stark’s advances.

“It is what we have, Y/L/N. Take some time, recover and come back. I have a feeling we’ll need all the help we can get”

“Yes, Director Fury” you nod, as Natasha walks in. The man nods, and you can tell he trusts Natasha now. It’s a relief.

“How are you feeling?” Natasha says, pulling the usual chair next to your bed.

“Happy that I get to go home. soon Not so excited over my mom running around my place cleaning and complaining”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could stay but…”

“You have missions. I heard you’re booked and busy, Agent Romanoff”

“Well, yes” she smiles, blushing lightly.

“Is that what you want? Because that’s all that matters to me”

“I want to do good. Clean my ledger”

“You’ll do great. I know it” you reach for her hand, smiling.

“I could… put it off. For a few months. It won’t be a big deal”

But you can see how eager she is. To prove herself she’s so much more than the Red Room. That she’s not just the Black Widow.

She’s Natasha Romanoff.

“I’m not going anywhere, Nat. You’ll always have me. Ok?”

“Ok” she nods, looking away, but keeping her hand in yours.

Deep down, you knew this was only the start of your journey together.

[covid-safer-hotties]

The US Government Has Abandoned Us to Endless COVID. We Can Do Better. - Published Aug 10, 2024

The pandemic isn’t over. Why is it so hard to find accurate information about it?

This week, Nassau County, New York, passed a mask ban. Those wearing face masks will now face the possibility of up to a year in jail or a $1,000 fine. Angry at the power of anti-genocide protests, lawmakers banned one of the most basic forms of disease protection just as the world is experiencing a record surge in COVID cases. While officials insist that the law will not be used against those masking for medical reasons, disabled activists protesting the move say they were intentionally coughed on during the city council meeting where the bill was passed.

In a world of airborne contagious diseases, everyone has a medical reason for masking. So why doesn’t our public health policy recognize that?

In 2020, at the height of the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, then-President Donald Trump was excoriated for saying that “when you test, you create more cases.” This statement was met with outcry by journalists and public health professionals and pundits from all major outlets.

Trump’s statements and policies on COVID were regularly and widely critiqued. In October 2020, CNN launched a tracker of “every time Trump said that the coronavirus pandemic was over, but it wasn’t,” which juxtaposed Trump’s words with the number of new cases in the United States.

Since President Joe Biden took office, many of the same things that Trump was excoriated for have been implemented as policy. In September 2022, Biden suddenly declared the pandemic over at the Detroit Auto Show, and in May 2023, Congress ended the federal emergency. Both moves were unrelated to any data about case numbers, yet no similar media outcry about premature or imaginary declarations has dogged the Biden administration.

Trump’s outrageous argument that if the U.S. collected less data, the picture would be rosier has been made into official policy under the Biden administration: As of May 1, 2024, hospitals are no longer required to report admissions, and most of the other data collection infrastructure on COVID test rates, like local dashboards and easily readable trackers on cases and deaths, has already disappeared.

By mid-July 2024, it was possible for Biden to have an active case of COVID and to claim that he is going home to isolate while simultaneously appearing on video in a group of people unmasked, without major media outlets blinking an eye about this contradiction. At this point in the pandemic, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) website is no longer a go-to place for clear COVID information, but instead muddies the difference between COVID and the common cold in its prevention recommendations. As Caroline Hugh, an epidemiologist who volunteers for the Public Health Collective, told Truthout, it is hard to know what’s going on because the “picture has gotten a lot fuzzier and a lot more complicated.”

As Supports for COVID Sunset, Access Is Obstructed It is worth stating explicitly that the COVID pandemic is decidedly not over, despite the end of the U.S. federal emergency. The policy and response have changed, without any real relationship to changes in the illness and how it affects people.

The basic facts about COVID have not evolved that much: It is a highly contagious airborne disease, tight-fitting masks are effective, regular vaccinations are helpful in avoiding more serious illness, and isolation (some experts insist longer than five days) is warranted to avoid getting other people sick. It can cause death and long-term or permanent disability.

What has changed in the last four years is that it has become harder and harder for people to remain clear on this information and to put these basic guidelines into practice. The information about the risks of COVID and how to avoid them has gone from being mainstream advice to countercultural information that people have to search out. In this information-poor environment, the risks to disabled people, to those who work directly with the public (disproportionately BIPOC people) and anyone else with an increased COVID risk level are dramatically increased.

It is also now much harder to put this information into practice as government and institutional support for COVID safety practices has all but evaporated. Tools that were used earlier in the pandemic like free testing, masks and vaccines, have almost all been phased out, often shifting the financial burden for these to individual patients. The expectation to work while sick has been reimposed. The public has repeatedly been told “we have the tools,” but with tens of millions of people kicked off Medicaid in 2024, Paxlovid — a rapid treatment that reduces the risks of the infection — is difficult to obtain for most people, and expensive for almost everyone. Even the Bridge Access program, which funded COVID vaccinations for those without private insurance to cover them, is sunsetting this fall. “It is absolutely unaffordable to get COVID for the vast majority of working Americans, for people who are not working, who are retired and disabled on SSDI, on a limited income, on SSI. This is a catastrophic cost to be exposed to right now,” Beatrice Adler-Bolton, coauthor of Health Communism and co-host of the podcast “Death Panel,” told Truthout.

One of the ways that misleading information becomes normalized is by making it challenging for people to act on any other information.

“Immunity Debt” and Other Commonly Circulated Myths With the disappearance of supports and these changes to the mainstream media narrative, it has become harder to feel sure about COVID. The dramatic wind down of data available has been coupled with a major shift in framing from the CDC, which has communicated in ways that fail to counter the U.S. public’s widespread turn toward a mentality that is resonant with Trump’s misleading push for “herd immunity” in 2020.

While the CDC does acknowledge that “reinfection can occur as early as several weeks after a previous infection,” much of its recent messaging on COVID has tended to bolster the widespread public sense that hospitalization and COVID deaths have largely decreased because of immunity from prior infection or vaccinations. (Only 28 percent of adults in the U.S. are up to date on COVID vaccinations.) For example, PEW Research Center cited the CDC in its statement that “The vast majority of Americans have some level of protection from the coronavirus because of vaccination, prior infection or a combination of the two. This has led to a decline in severe illness from the disease.”

Adam Moore, a virologist working towards a Ph.D. at the University of California, Davis, says that while this claim is accurate, the overall framing is “dishonest” because it underemphasizes how quickly natural immunity can wane after a COVID infection. He also argues that this frame underemphasizes how COVID can have serious impacts on a person’s immune system and their ability to fend off any kind of illness.

Fundamentally, it is complicated to assess why fewer people are being hospitalized or dying of COVID despite continued high rates of circulation. The reason is not necessarily solely related to immunity (through exposure or vaccination), especially given the disease’s quick evolution that has resulted from the failure to contain it.

The data collection on who has been hospitalized or even died with an active case of COVID has also become less reliable, as many hospitals no longer report all COVID cases, but instead make a distinction between people hospitalized “with COVID” and people hospitalized “for COVID.” And, undercounting of deaths has been a pattern throughout the pandemic.

Most importantly, experts who spoke to Truthout emphasized that death and acute illness like hospitalization are not the only serious outcomes from an illness. Most of us would like to avoid serious injury, traumatic events and long-term disability that fall outside the purview of the basic and extreme indicator of death. Pandemic indicators and figures that do not tell us how many people are developing or living with long COVID, for example, fall far short of offering a complete picture of the risk of COVID infection.

The push for “herd immunity” to COVID is only one of several common misleading ideas about immunity. Another is immunity debt, the claim that if a person missed getting a cold or respiratory virus in 2021 they were more susceptible to getting sick in 2022. Immunity debt, although popularized in some media outlets, is not a scientifically accepted idea. The immune system is a not a “muscle that needs exercise to get stronger,” explained Moore.

COVID goes against a lot of what people in the United States have been told about viruses and what has come to be common sense. The most common viruses in the U.S. are seasonal, but COVID circulates year-round, more like tropical viruses. Moore highlights that this makes COVID fundamentally different from the flu and, crucially, the vaccination cycle for the flu, where annual vaccination works because it can account for the variants that have evolved in the opposite hemisphere. Since COVID circulates everywhere year-round, annual vaccinations are not enough to keep up on the latest variants. Beatrice Adler-Bolton adds that COVID surges in the United States are not related to seasons but rather to moments of intense travel, like Memorial Day weekend, Labor Day weekend, the holidays in November and December, and Spring Break.

Good Information Is Available — If You Know Where to Look The people who spoke to Truthout for this story recommended many sources of robust, trustworthy information about COVID. These sources are not invested in making sure the economy continues going as it is, which has been one of the biggest reasons government and mainstream sources misrepresent COVID data. Many also have a commitment to disability and racial justice and are actively organizing for improved public health information and infrastructure.

Recommended resources include Noha Aboelata and Roots Community Health’s “people’s health updates” on YouTube; Ground Truths, the newsletter of Eric Topol; The Sick Times, a weekly newsletter focusing on Long COVID; and Adler-Bolton’s podcast, “Death Panel,” which provides regular deep dives and analysis of COVID policy.

Local mask blocs are another good source of information. These local mutual aid groups provide low-cost or free masks to community members (via bulk purchasing), and they share a lot of locally relevant information about COVID (often on Instagram).

Nationally, groups like the People’s CDC, the Public Health Collective and the Pandemic Mitigation Collaborative are synthesizing technical information and sharing it to a wider community with a disability justice lens. Hugh highlighted the importance of reading and combining a variety of information, rather than relying on a single source.

Repetition Is a Democratic Power The most powerful part of COVID disinformation is its simple repetition through multiple channels constantly, says Adler-Bolton. But repetition can work both ways. Those pushing for more accurate COVID information that allows everyday people to be in solidarity with one another can also use this power of repetition, but “we have to be relentless.”

Undoing the damage of bad information is difficult, because “breaking the mystification of disinformation” can’t be done by simply changing the information that goes through those same media channels, said Adler-Bolton. Instead, people must work with each other through personal connection. “There is a kind of trust that we can build between each other that goes further than the trust any one person can have with any media project, no matter how good the project is.”

Information that rejects ableism and white supremacy raises the stakes by asking people to reject the comforts they have been promised by racial capitalism. Sharing that information with each other is part of a collective struggle for disability and racial justice.