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hatsukeii · 11 months ago

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ring pop! / bsf!ushijima wakatoshi x reader

genre(s): heavy on the crack and fluff, dumb and dumber, ushiwaka is dense but loveable! childhood bsf to lovers! yay! sunshine! rainbows! candy!

warning(s): nothing, implied fem reader for fluency's sake, but please interpret this as you'd like!! i myself am non-binary, so at the very least you know the person who's writing has you in mind!! i still tried my best to keep everything gender neutral to the best of my ability!!

wc: 1490

tldr; “boyfriend? but i thought we were already dating?”

“Wakatoshi, can I have your second button?”

Petals of blooming sakura flowers replace the grey pavement beneath your shoes with a mosaic of dusty pink as you stand beneath Shiratorizawa’s famous confession tree. It’s a ritual that has been done for many graduations before your own, students would act nonchalant as they drag their romantic prospects beneath this very tree, all to ask for their second shirt button. This year, it’s your turn, your hands clenched behind your back as you rock forward, backward, forward, backward.

“What do you mean? My second button?”

“Yeah, your second button.”

Wakatoshi’s nose twitches in confusion and under the blanket of pollen from the flowers above. What’s so special about his second button, that you’ve dragged him under the Shiratorizawa tree for? His hand shoots up, picking at the thread sewn between each hole in his second uniform button. It doesn’t budge as he picks and pulls, until finally, he rips it off with force, handing it to you between pinched fingers.

“Here.” He reaches for one of your hands, linked with the other in anxiety and anticipation, and pushes your fingers apart, before dropping the button into your palm unceremoniously. You stare blankly at the small round in your hand, then at Wakatoshi’s deadpan expression.

“Toshi, that’s…that’s not how it works.”

He tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing as if trying to search your head for clues. The petals shuffle beneath your feet as you mindlessly grind your shoe into the ground, not sure what to make of this situation.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I gave you the second button, like you asked. Did I do something wrong?”

“Wakatoshi, I’m asking you to be my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend? Do you hear yourself? What nonsense, what has he been to you for the past six years, if not that?

“Boyfriend? But I thought we were already dating?”

You mind empties its contents as your jaw goes slack, a dumbfounded hum escaping your windpipe. You’re not too sure- no, you have not a single idea when that idea planted itself into his head. You’ve been subtle enough, right? And careful too! No love letters, or secret gifts, or bento boxes, just day to day, regular best friend interactions between the two of you. What could have possibly gone wrong?

“Dating? Where did you get that from??”

Wakatoshi frowns, hands moving to his pockets. A spring breeze whizzes by, filling the stale air between himself and you. That’s not very nice of you. Wakatoshi knows close to nothing about relationships, but he does know one thing: You probably should remember how you got together in the first place.

“You…forgot?” After all these years of tailing behind you at grocery stores, and weekly dinners at your house, and running to your place at a text’s notice, only to end up watching dramas all night and crying with you, and you forgot that you were dating? His voice quivers, a rush of betrayal in the gleam of his eyes stabbing at your chest as he grimaces at your confused expression, then back at the second button he just ripped off his chest that sits in your hand.

“I think I would remember if we‘re dating…but we aren’t.”

“How could you forget? I still have the ring pop from that day!”

What?

“Wakatoshi, the ring pop? From sixth grade?” At the mention of the ring pop, the fuzziness of an afternoon six years ago is wiped clean. You can almost taste the disgustingly artificial grape flavour that tingled and fizzed on your tongue, before sending you into a sugar high for hours, feel the cheap plastic ring that hung a size too big from your ring finger. You’re fairly certain that the company had discontinued that line of ring pops by now, the two pack too costly of a production for the cheap price they sold for in convenience stores.

“Yeah! I asked you to be my girlfriend with the second pop, and you said yes! You even wore the ring on your ring finger!”

His hands leave his pockets now, pointing accusingly at your ring finger that lacks a humorously large plastic ring. You’re not sure whether to be shocked or to laugh hysterically, not when Wakatoshi’s accusations of your…infidelity? are rooted in the sanctity and candour of a discontinued ring pop, until it all hits you at once. All the nights that he would drop off bags of groceries at your doorstep, your mother gleaming at his persistent service, and the afternoons of watching his volleyball trainings, his eyes glancing at you for approval at every legal point he makes, all the little times that led up to your eventual confession weren’t “best friend interactions.”

They were the actions of a boyfriend. A boyfriend, who (rightfully so) thought he was dating his girlfriend.

“Toshi…did it never occur to you that we’ve done absolutely NOTHING in all these years of ‘dating’? I mean, wouldn’t you have wanted to, I dunno, hold my hand? Or like, kiss me?”

Wakatoshi jolts backwards by an inch, hand travelling towards his jaw as he rubs it introspectively, trying to fan off the heat that is crawling from his chest to his neck. You stifle a giggle, before clearing your throat guiltily. No, you shouldn’t laugh at him. He’s trying his best to process the past six years of unrequited ‘dating’, how could you interrupt him? Do you have no heart, or shame?

“W-well, my dad’s always taught me not to do anything with anyone, partner or not, unless they asked for it first… and you never asked to. So, I never did.” He finally responds, as confidently as his stuttering voice could seem. “Besides, I assumed you weren’t the type of person to be into super-romantic dating, so I just never questioned it.”

You shake your head, smiling at the ground as you take a step towards him. Your hand grips his uniform button by your side, afraid that it might get lost in the petals if you drop it. Wakatoshi’s head darts from left to right, as if piecing together red herrings on a cork board, pinning down every interaction from sixth grade to now with thumbtacks as the strings tangle and twist.

“What about our drama nights? Was that also just being best friends?”

“Yes, Wakatoshi. That is what best friends do.”

“The grocery runs?”

“You offered to do them, and I assumed it was because you were always training late and wanted to help a friend out on the way home.”

“And the weekly dinners at your place?”

“We’re neighbours!”

You watch him groan, his face shoved into his now clammy palms. This is information overload, and Wakatoshi’s processor is melting down in front of your very eyes. He shakes his head frantically, his hair becoming disheveled. His hands run through his green locks, and land on his hips as his feet tap at the petal-covered ground.

“So, we have not been dating for six years, but you want to start dating from today onwards?”

"That is exactly what I'm asking."

Finally. He’s finally got it. The button weighs heavy in your hand, and you duck beneath his face to look him in the eye. He glances away, visibly repulsed by his embarrassment. He should've caught the signs...well, earlier. It somehow has never occured to him that a ring pop proposal might not be the most legitimate way to one's heart, and it certainly has never occured to him that it might have come off as an ingenuine attempt at securing a relationship.

"I meant it when I gave you the ring pop though."

Your face morphs into an effortless smile, the towering boy looking more timid than he ever has before. You haven't changed one bit since the day he's 'proposed' to you, from the smile lines that adorn your face, to the little pout of your lips when you grin. And as you look at him, eyes shimmering under the shade of the infamous Shiratorizawa confession tree, Wakatoshi is twleve years old again, missing a canine tooth on the top right side of his toothbed. He's pinching a long discontinued ring pop between both thumbs and index fingers, getting down on one bandaged knee earnestly to pop the big question.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

And suddenly, you're twelve years old, standing right there, in front of him, tiny hands covering your mouth as you gasp and tell him yes, a million times over and more. Wakatoshi is 5'2 here, a whole foot shorter than his now eighteen year old self, slotting a ring pop that's two sizes too big on your ring finger, the candy diamond shimmering in the sunlight on the walk home. Except now, the ring pop has transformed into the second button of his soon to be forgotten Shiratorizawa shirt, residing in your clenched fist.

"I know. I know you did."

His eyes refocus as he snaps out of his thoughts, and he wonders if you still have the plastic ring from the ring pop, the one that means to him doing groceries for your household before his own, and showing up at your door to watch dramas all night in your bed, and helping your parents with the cooking before your weekly dinners. His eyes soften, the probing frown long gone from his face as he returns your smile with his own, cheeks pink and teeth threatening to show through his suppressed grin.

"Does this mean I get to kiss you now?"

"Yes, Toshi. Yes it does."

His hands spare no time to cup your face, pulling it up to his own as his fingers draw lines across your cheekbones. Wakatoshi's brain bursts in sparks of gold and red, and he genuinely ponders how he has lived until now without ever doing this once. He pulls away, unsure what else to do after, before sneezing in your face.

"Sorry, pollen, gross."

"Let's get out of here then, quick."

You grab his hand in your own, another sensation he isn't sure how he's lived without until now, and pull him away from the tree as you run to the school exit. He jogs behind you, and you turn around, your fingers interlocked with each other's.

"By the way, happy sixth anniversary, Toshi!"

author's note:

@catsoupki here's your long overdue ushiwaka prompt baby i hope you like you like ;P i had so much fun writing this omg i cracked myself AND my sister up like twenty times running her through what my plan was LMAOO

i too need ushiwaka btw i actually love him SO MUCH it's not funny anymore I NEED HIM SBSBSBSBSB the only other fic i have of him is genuinely some of the worst situations i've put any haikyuu character in recently so i have to treat him to a good one here ofc

anyways tags!!

@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds

ok love u guys see u next fic bye bye

#ushijima x reader #ushiwaka x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushiwaka #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack #hq fluff #hq crack #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima fluff #hq ushijima #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 months ago

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2010 Earthship in Tres Piedras, NM still not selling. Relisted and on the market 107 days. 3bds, 2ba, 2,000sqft. It's one of the nicer ones, too. $685k.

Earthships always have this atrium area along the side where they grow plants. This one is very nice.

The main living area and bedrooms usually enter from the atrium. This earthship is nicely done. Some that we've seen were very DIY and sloppy. Look at how nice the bottle wall looks, and the door looks professionally done.

Very well done. Look at the log ceiling.

It has a proper kitchen with nice cabinetry and a tile backsplash. The island is lovely- look at the carving.

The floor is professionally done, also.

Nice living room area next to the kitchen.

Look at how nice their plants are. Lemon and fig trees, banana, blueberries, kitchen herbs, coffee, grapes, exotic flowers and vegetables can be grown all year round.

Here you can see how the bedrooms are off the atrium.

There's a nice large closet area.

Bath #1 is very colorful.

Bedroom #2 is also very nice. The view of the atrium from the bedrooms is lovely.

Bedroom #3 is used as a sitting room.

Bath #2 has a regular tub. Usually they have tubs made from the wall material.

This looks like a grape vine.

There's an outdoor garden that includes fruit trees, plus a deck.

A wood stockade fence surrounds the house, but there's not a thing for miles in this direction.

Someone's walking. She's not going to the store or a neighbor's so I don't know why they put this picture up, instead of the deck.

I wish I could say that the rainbow looks beautiful, but it kind of looks like it's over a junkyard from here. This property is 100% off the grid.

1.83 acre lot. There are some neighbors around on this side.

#earthships #off grid houses #recycled houses #earth friendly homes #desert homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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seilahdiaries · 25 days ago

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𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗡 ?

in which ❝ . your their rapunzel girl . ❞

۪ ֹ ᮫ warnings . . . none? strict household maybe. and fluff જ⁀➴ ⋮ ⌗ 𝓯! reader x the outsiders !

🌞 idk why i randomly thought of a rapunzel coded reader but i did lmao. should i do like a belle or aurora one ??

now playing . . . something that i want - grace potter

𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦 .

you’re not really allowed to go out, so he comes over after school with you with his book and lays on the floor reading them outloud to you. so cute!

you’re obsessed with reading and poetry like him, so you always ask what pony thinks a line means. and then he starts yapping while you listen ☺️.

you guys draw stars on the ceiling of your room together.

eventually, after proving he’s a “good kid,” your parents start getting looser and start letting you go out— only with him.

but he never— ever. minds being stuck inside with you.

the curtains flutter. you’re lying on your bed, fingers dangling off the edge. and he’s looking through your book shelf, flipping through a paperback.

“hey. doesn’t it get boring? being stuck here with me?”

he glanced at you. then smiles softly.

“nah, not if i’m stuck here with you.”

𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗔𝗣𝗢𝗣 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦 .

you’re always painting— the room is covered in canvases and you paint on non-traditional things too. you even have one of him which is totally not giving creep but okay!

whenever he visits you, he brings little things for you to paint. like flowers, matchboxes or shiny wrappers😭.

“i saw this and thought of you,” he says, holding up a wrapper proudly.

you raise a brow. “that’s from a grape candy.”

“yeah but,” he grins, “look at the color, it’s you. you could make it pretty.”

you roll your eyes with a smile, but take it anyway.

you kiss him with paint on your hands, smudging it on his cheeks and jaw.

he always makes sure everytime he visits— its memorable. like he’ll slow dance with you in the middle of your room, literally cry when he saw the portrait you made of him. crash all of your canvases tryna show of his aerobatics.

and then you’re stuck putting a bandaid on his temple and still inside 😒.

𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗖𝗔𝗗𝗘 .

you guys definitely fill pots and leave them on your porch, watching little plants grow.

you always keep a tiny light on, maybe a candle, in your room— “just in case you pass by.”

he carves yalls initial into a tree you can see from your window with his blade, for sure. like I KNOW he would.

whenever you’re not allowed to go outside, he’s nearby the window and talking to you from below. like a literal fairytale.

“you’re not suppose to be here,” you whisper. johnny grins up at you, hands in his pocket. “yeah. but i missed you.”

“you’re gonna get a knot in your neck if you keep showing up like this,” you call softly, leaning your elbows on the sill.

“worth it.”

“you say that now,” you hum, “but when you can’t look side to side, don’t blame me.”

“i’ll just look up, then. that’s where you are, ain’t it?”

you’re guys’s love is so quiet and cute it almost feels made up. i need that.

𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡 .

you’ve never kissed anyone before him and it’s all he can think about.

he pulls back just barely, breath still warm against your lips, his hand resting at your jaw like he’s keeping you steady.

“sweet little lips,” he mutters out.

he grins, crooked and slow, mouth brushing against yours again—

“you keep kissin’ me like that, i’m gonna think you like me or somethin’.” he teases.

he teases you a lot for being a “sweet little thing,” but he always shows up when the lights go out.

you write his name over and over in the margins of your journal, book, recipe books, etc.

he steals you a red lipstick and tells you to wear it for some reason😭.

for sure teaches you how to sneak out.

but you teach him how to care.

𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗦 .

you iron his shirts in the living room and sway to old music on the radio.

i could totally see him building you a bookshelf with his own hands.

but you always do small hobbies that he loves. like when you embroider pillowcases with his and yours initials. always brushing and braiding your hair. or strumming a guitar.

“twenty minutes,” you murmur, stepping back from the dough and reaching for your brush.

you sit by the window, sunlight warm on your cheek as you work through tangles, braiding over your shoulder. you glance at the door like— maybe this time he’ll get off work early today.

the smell of fresh bread soon fills the room.

𝗧𝗪𝗢-𝗕𝗜𝗧 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗪𝗦 .

you write your dreams in a lilac pen and let him read them sometimes. he usually ends up poking fun at them but it’s fine😣.

he always climbs the side of your house instead of the front door to deliver snacks and a singular rose he stole from a yard. IM A FIRM BELIEVER ALMOST ALL THE GANG WOULD STEAL FLOWERS TO GIVE TO YOU.

he always puts on his favorite songs to show you, and the first time he did it was elvis rock-n-roll. you were flabbergasted.

he lets you put ribbons and bows on his hair, sometimes even braids. “as long as you promise to laugh.” he always says.

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘 .

watching him work on his car through the window and waves with a smirk when he catches you.

he lowk teaches you how to steal stuff to “feel alive.” 😭

he also would fix you up a bike so you could go visit him too when you were allowed.

he leaves his jacket for you, either in your room or on the porch railing whenever it rains. idk why but he does!

you print out tiny photos of him and tape them to your mirror, or even just having a page in your scrapbook about him..

“didn’t know i looked good enough for a scrapbook.”

“you look good enough for a hundred,” you murmur back, and he goes quiet.

eyes scanning the page, this time he’s got nothing cocky to say— just stands with a crooked smile and pretending like his heart isn’t doing backflips.

he also keeps something of yours in his glove compartment, like a nail polish or a ring. which is special considering he only has a random wrench and old cigarette boxes in there!

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gingerdusk · 11 months ago

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Trying to figure out TP Link's diet based on his environment.

Livestock-wise, we've got cuccos and goats. That means

Eggs

Milk

Butter

Cheese

Potentially meat, but I don't think they get eaten unless they're old. Too valuable otherwise | EDIT: Oh yeah you need to breed goats every couple years to get milk. Add in cabrito veal!

And we know for a fact that Ordon Goat Cheese specifically is a thing. Stamped wheel and everything.

There's also fish

And bees/hornets(? It's called bee larva, but the enemy is a Hylian Hornet)

Useful for bait, but Link can eat them.

Did some more research, and apparently in Japan they eat wasp larvae? Specifically in Kushihara. So I'm counting it.

Then plants-wise we have pumpkins

And...corn. Somehow. I've never seen corn growing, but Link has some hanging in his house, so it exists.

I'm choosing to believe it comes from these plants that grow in patches around Ordon.

That gives us a lot. We've got

Cornstarch

Cornmeal

Corn oil

Corn shoots

Pumpkin seeds

Pumpkin seed oil

Pumpkin flour

Pumpkin blossoms

No source of sugar, but depending on how the pumpkins in Ordon taste, they could be naturally sweet. Like pie pumpkins. Also corn syrup is a thing if it's a sweet corn. So corn syrup needs cream of tartar which comes from grapes and apples and such. It's a byproduct of wine. No corn syrup.

Edit: Malt sugar, though!

Now for hypothetical foods.

Ordon is surrounded by pine trees, so that adds pine needle tea and pine nuts to the mix. I was a little worried about species, but apparently there are a lot of pine trees that make edible seeds, so on the list it goes.

Then there are frogs near Rusl and Uli's house, wild songbirds on cliffs, and a squirrel that talks to Link directly, so those are huntable sources of meat.

Is horse grass a cattail? Maybe? Initially, I thought it was—the ends look like cattail seedpuffs, but the leaves are completely different.

I want to treat them like cattails. Cattails that also are probably the main food source for Epona and the goats.

If we do that, that means, on top of all the other uses cattails have like stuffing and tinder and antiseptic, we get

Roots

Shoots

Ground seeds

Can't find a good match for hawk grass though. Concluding that that's not edible. Equivalent exchange and all.

Side note, how do you think horse grass spreads? It's almost always in groups of two or more plants, so that suggests rhizomes, but the image of Link picking one up to blow and stuffing flying out the end of the horseshoe is hilarious to me.

Up next, there are ferns, primarily near trees. After very careful and way-too-deep analysis of a pixelated fern's leaves, I think it's bracken fern.

Which is mildly poisonous.

And also edible.

On the list it goes!

Then finally, Sera has some kind of herb hanging in her shop.

I don't know what it is. I'm calling it Ordon Spice. Congratulations, Ordon Pumpkin Spice is now a thing.

#long post #twilight princess #loz #zelda #analysis #theory #worldbuilding #hello it is bee being a nerd about zelda hours again

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artechoceneexplorer · 6 months ago

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I don't think I have shown this here, but I've been working on a drawing of one of my favourite creatures (?) from Dungeon Meshi, the Dryads. Also kind of making my own version of it by adding details specifically on their internal workings, and making them feel more like a fake puppet of a human grown from a flower.

The original dryad design vs Full Piece of mine (WIP)

I used several plants that have hinges and moving parts as a reference, mainly the hammer orchids (Drakaea sp.) for the internal joints and snapdragons (Antirrhinum sp.) for the external joints of the petal limbs. For the muscles used for more fast movement rather than structure, I used the curling tendrils that many climbing plants, especially in the cucurbit and grape families used for climbing, and can contract and extend pretty easily like springs. They don't use the same mechanism as normal tendrils though, as these move not by growing, but by hydraulics like other movable parts in plants like Mimosa, Drosera or the venus fly trap. For the general texture of the petal skin and sepal hair, I used mainly Hibiscus flowers for no particular reason other than I just love Hibiscus color diversity and petal texture.

Closeup of nearly finished Female flower

I Really enjoyed designing the face of the dryads, making them much more articulated and doll-like than the original designs. This facial petal had two moving parts: the mouth, which can open to allow pollination, which is partially inspired by orchids and snapdragons, with similar contraptions to access the pollen or stigmas; and the eyes, which are inspired by the retractable leaves of Mimosa plants, which can contract and relax via internal hydraulics to open the dryad's eyes.

Closeup of the facial petal of the female flower

I might add some text detailing some additional information once I finish the rest of the piece, but it depends on how good or cluttered it makes the piece feel, but I would like to add it. By the way for anyone wondering, the scientific name is a modification of the Greek name for dryads and other nymphs, which are usually named by adding -aie and similar suffixes to the plant they're associated with (greek dryads were named after oak trees). As these are more more flowers than trees, the genus name uses the prefix "Antho-" which is derived from the word for flower. The species name is much more simple as it means false (-oides) human (anthrop-).

Closeup of the male flower with additional information.

I hope you enjoyed this different kind of post where I go a bit in depth into my creative process, see you in the next one :>

#art #illustration #clip studio paint #speculative evolution #speculative biology #fanart #plants #botany #botanical illustration #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dryad #fantasy #creature design #art wip #work in progress

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blueiscoool · 9 days ago

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A 2,000-Year-Old Pompeii Garden Springs Back to Life

The Pompeii Archaeological Park has recreated an ancient perfume garden—right down to its antique roses.

A garden once flourished in Pompeii. There, alongside a typical row house, olive trees, roses, and vines blossomed, nourished by hand-carved irrigation channels. The entrance to the site bore the Latin inscription “Cras Credo,” translated to “Credit will be offered tomorrow,” a touch of Pompeiian humor. The Vesuvius eruption in 79 C.E. wiped out the grounds—but preserved hints of its purpose.

Now, a new garden is taking root the same spot. The Pompeii Archaeological Park has just unveiled the restored Garden of Hercules (so named for a statue of the mythical hero uncovered at the site), freshly planted with 1,200 violets, 1,000 ruscus plants, and 800 antique roses, as well as vines and cherry and cotton apple trees. The botanical display is intended to mirror how the garden appeared 2,000 years ago, based on the findings of botanist Wilhelmina Jashemski, who identified pollen, spores, and plant fossils in the area in the 1950s.

“In Pompeii, the natural and archaeological landscape are one,” Gabriel Zuchtriegel, the park’s director, said in a statement. “The green of Pompeii, which was once perceived as a management and maintenance problem, an element almost separate from archaeological structures, is now recognized as an essential component of archaeological areas, as well as of the largest agricultural project of the Park.”

Located on Regio VIII, Insula 2 of the archaeological park, the house joining the garden was uncovered in 1953 before the rest of its grounds was excavated in 1971–72, with further studies carried out in the ’80s. Researchers found that the house was rebuilt following a 62 C.E. earthquake, with its owner buying surrounding land to plant the garden.

In the garden, archaeologists discovered holes in the earth that once held the roots of olive trees, impressions left in the soil by vine trellises, and biological traces of roses. Numerous perfume bottles found on the site indicate the garden was once involved in the commercial production of perfume. Flowers would be pressed with olive oil or grape juice, researchers found, before the concoction was bottled and sold.

Also significant was the discovery of an ancient irrigation system, which allowed gardeners to water the plants through a hole in the wall, without having to enter the site. The water would then flow through channels that wound their way around flower beds, or pool in reservoirs created by earthenware pots, or dolia, situated around the grounds.

“If a gardener needed to give extra water to a plant, they could take it from a dolia,” historian Maurizio Bartolini told the London Times.

Bartolini, who worked on the replanted garden, believes that the garden’s owner might have been experimenting with scents at the site, as opposed to running a full-scale operation. The garden, he noted, measures a mere 98 by 98 feet, while creating 5cc of perfume takes some 2,000 roses.

The irrigation system has been recreated for the Garden of Hercules, its troughs meandering across the new beds. A terracotta statue of the Greek legend has also been reproduced, installed in a small nook next to an outdoor dining space.

“This was a productive place,” Zuchtriegel told the Times of the space, “but also really beautiful.”

The recreated garden is part of Pompeii Archaeological Park’s efforts to shed light on daily life in the ancient Roman city before its destruction. Also currently on view at the site is “Being a Woman in Ancient Pompeii,” an exhibition that delves into the lives, roles, and activities of Pompeiian women.

By Min Chen.

#Pompeii #A 2000-Year-Old Pompeii Garden Springs Back to Life #The Pompeii Archaeological Park #Garden of Hercules #mount vesuvius #ancient artifacts #archaeology #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #roman art #ancient art

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percyjavksongf · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!.•❀

➤𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤!𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➤𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐’𝟖𝟖𝟓

➤𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

“𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 “𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝,

“𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫“

𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜

Somewhere in camp, Percy was probably off teaching younger campers how to properly wield a sword, and you? Well your contribution to Camp Half-Blood was keeping your pouting face hidden in a feather filled pillow.

You thought of dragging your tired legs off the bed and going out, doing something productive with your last few days at camp before the summer was up, but then you’d feel sick at the thought off speeding up your day by doing something productive, so you’d just sigh and roll over in your bed. Your internal fight to leave bed lasted for an hour or so before you came to the conclusion that at least sitting up in bed would be better then slowly suffocating in your bed sheets, so you did just that.

You groaned at the pop your back made when you finally pulled yourself up, gods you really needed to get out of this bed. Although you understand it probably makes a hell of a lot of more sense to actually achieve something on this crisp summer day, like run through the strawberry fields with Selina nipping at your heals, squealing with happiness as the sun beats down unforgivingly against your sweating skin. Or maybe you’d be sneaking around with Connor, he always knew how to put an honest smile of your face, even if others found him annoying, you believed he had a hidden sweetness to him that he covered up with stupid jokes and wild pranks.

You flipped through your thoughts for awhile, humming the familiar tune that drifted through the air of your mother’s cabin, Demeter, admiring the wildflowers that seemed to almost dance along with the tune. A knock at your Cabin door had you reluctantly removing your eyes from the ballet of the wildflowers and staring curiously at the door, you weren’t expecting anyone so you almost considered ignore the noise, that was until they started knocking furiously on the door and forcing you up from your comfortable position. You walked over to the door quickly in hopes to stop the awful banging that disturbed the plants and swung the door open.

“you wanna get drunk?”

Pollux.

You send him a false look of annoyance and let your eyes travel down to the pitcher of grape flavoured cool aid in his purple stained hands, he must’ve just made it.

“drunk?” you questioned incredulously, “have you finally done it? Turned water into wine! Oh you’re a little Jesus in the making!” you cried out dramatically and reach for the pitcher. Pollux, picking up on your tease right away quickly moved to hold the pitcher away from you

“ha ha, very funny. I’m obviously still working on completing that miracle, but in the mean time we could go get a sugar rush” Pollux peered behind you, raising a brow at your obviously recently occupied bed “or are you too busy?” you rolled your eyes and put a hand to Pollux’s chest, pushing him the rest of the way out of your cabin’s front door and turning to shut it behind you. You supposed it wouldn’t be much harm to spend an hour out in the fresh air.

An hour turned into five and the sun was starting to set on yours and Pollux’s makeshift dining area, the once filled pitcher was now discarded, empty and resting on it’s side. Pollux and you had moved to rest against a rough tree and people watch, making comments on possible up and coming romances in the camp.

“you know I’ve heard a few rumours about you” Pollux stated matter of factly and you gasped, turning to face him in an instant. “you have to tell me”

“no I don’t” Pollux grinned, obviously enjoying the power he had over the topic

“yes you do, you can’t bring it up and then not tell me” you state seriously, causing Pollux to grin wider “actually I just heard from the department of hidden information and yep, uh huh, ok yeah I’ll let them know. No, I don’t have to tell you” you stared unimpressed at the skit Pollux played out for you of him answering the phone to deny your request, you looked away from him and stared off at the sunset, “thats fine smart ass, I’ll just have to let Mr D know about the time you actually got drunk, and how it wasn’t done by any miracle but more so by a lie his devious son managed to get away with”

“It’s about you and Percy”

A laugh burst out of your chest at how quickly he confessed, and you failed to notice boy’s stare burning into your skin, and the slight blush forming on his face. You laughter had died down and you finally registered his rushed words.

“Percy and I? What about us” you questioned curiously. Percy and you had been joined at the hip since you first came to Camp Half-blood, both having a peculiar love for blue food and the ability to get yourselves into all sorts of trouble. You’d say you became close friends after the fight of Manhattan, you had taken a nasty blow to the head that left you unconscious for a couple of days, when you had finally awoken in the camp infirmary the first thing you noticed besides the pounding in between your ears, was the exhausted face of Percy Jackson sitting in the chair beside your bed, his restless hands fiddling with your bed sheets. Since that day Percy almost seemed to make a habit out of making sure to see you every single day. The thought snapped you back to the present, surprised you hadn’t already realised it, you hadn’t seen Percy today.

“just something about you two spending a lot more time together, thats all. You know how people around here gossip over nothing” you frowned at the bitter tone of his voice and looked back towards the camp, where was Percy?

“have you seen Percy today?” you replied, forgetting the topic of your conversation mere seconds earlier. You tried to ignore the small frown that appeared on Pollux’s mouth at the mention of Percy. Over the past few months you had noticed Pollux’s opinion of Percy shift every so slightly, he used to be overjoyed by the mention of Percy but now it seemed to be the worst thing you could talk about with him, and you weren’t really sure why.

“probably somewhere showing off his sword fighting or something” Pollux grumbled and leaned back on his hands “never mind him, lets just lounge in the sun and pretend we had a productive day”

“let us live as flowers, wild and beautiful and drenched in the sun” you grin and look over to Pollux, knowing the quote will earn you an eye roll

“yeah ok flower power, just change the last part to drenched in wine and I’ll accept it” an eye roll or a dumb comment.

Your gaze returned to the camp once more and to your surprise you spot Percy only a few feet away from you, walking over at a comfortable pace. That was always something you enjoyed about Percy, he always seemed so laid back. You let a smile bloom over your face and lifted you hand up to block out the dying sun,

“hello miss wild and beautiful and drenched in the sun” the shit eating grin that graced Percy’s features maked your heart flutter,

“you’re here to eavesdrop I see” you quickly take note of the new freckles that decorate his sun kissed complexion, and the gentle stream of red that’s flowing on his upper arm that makes you frown and get to your feet, at his side in an instant “Percy your arm-”

“it’s fine, really. Just comes with the job of teaching twelve year olds how to use a sword” you carefully brush your thumb over the skin just beside the cut, it was just a nick but still was un welcomed by you none the less.

You hummed and removed your hand from his skin, it almost felt like your palm was burning as it drifted away from Percy, itching for the contact once again. A forced cough from behind you steals your attention, Pollux had gathered his pitcher and gave you a tight lipped smile, “I’ll leave you to it, see you around” you gave him a smile wave and thanked him again for the cool aid, you turned away from his retreating form you’re met with another unimpressed look.

“you better hope the wind doesn’t change, Perseus”

Percy’s burnt nose wrinkles from the name, only his mother calls him by his real name.

“what have I done to deserve a full name?” he scoffed

“give me that look” you replied matter of factly

Percy’s frown deepened for a moment before springing back up into a soft smile, the wind had picked up and you watched as his hand reached forward to tuck away a strand of your hair that was moving lazily in the breeze. You stared up at Percy through your lashes, uncaring of the heat that bloomed on your face. Percy knew the effect he had on you anyways.

“Pollux doesn’t like me” Percy said, moving his hand to rest against your cheek, his calloused thumb drawing soft circles on your skin. Your eyes scan your surroundings, hoping to the gods that no one was around to disturb your moment of piece, where the cloak fell off and left Percy’s love for you proudly displayed. Percy’s other hand playfully pinched the exposed skin on your waist and your eyes fixed to his once more. “don’t worry about them, let them see us”

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally at that, Percy and you had decided to keep your budding romance to yourselves when it first began, when the war had just ended and you felt it was best to leave that detail out, more focused on the loss of your fellow campers and dealing with that grief. But as the months went on you had still stayed the same, secret meetings after the camp fire had died down, sneaking into the lake with the help of the Percy’s air bubbles, only the fish that inhabited there knew of your love for each other. Sometimes during a particularly serious game of capture the flag, one where you and Percy were on different teams, he would manage to sneak up on you a steal a quick kiss before running off with a laugh in attempts to through you off your game. You’d always return the kiss later after your team won.

“why do you think Pollux doesn’t like you?” you questioned

“because he likes you” Percy replied much to your surprise “it’s all anyone at camp can talk about these days, they swear he’s going to ask you out any day now” it’s hard to miss the slight grumble in his voice as he goes on about how Pollux has been flirting with you for months, but you honestly hadn’t picked up on it. Right now you were more focused on the way Percy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the mention of Pollux trying to woo you. You’d had reached the wooded area of camp and reached for Percy’s hand then, your fingers intertwined and you positioned yourself in front of him, now walking backwards to face him as you spoke. Percy seemed to be more focused on guiding you away from any trees unknown to you.

“I don’t think he dislikes you, Percy. He’s never said anything bad about you” you said, Percy hands moved to your hips to side step you away from a fallen branch.

“he’s never said bad about me to you, probably” Percy said

“probably, see it’s not definite” you attempted to reason, any other words leaving your mind in a heartbeat when you feel the scratchy bark of a tree pressed against your back. You eyes stayed glued to Percy’s as he stepped closer to you, his hands drifting up to your waist. You looked around then to see if any campers, or gods forbid, Mr D, were taking a stroll through the woods at this time. Percy’s fingers resting on your jaw beckoned your attention back to him “always looking around” he spoke lowly, his words for you and you alone.

“are you sure you want to make this known?” you’re unsure why you whispered it, there was no one around anyways. But you still felt nervous, it only took one person to see before the news would spread like wildfire, and you would be bombarded with invasive questions and ‘how could you not tell me!’ from your siblings. Too be honest you kind of liked being a little secret, knowing you had Percy all to yourself. But you knew how much better it would be to not have to sneak around everywhere, the teasing would die down eventually and your relationship would be common knowledge.

“I think we’ve hidden this away for way to long, I want everyone to know you’re my girl”

you can’t contain the smile that his words bring you, his girl.

“we’ll only if you’re ok with that, of course” he followed up with quickly

“yeah I think it’s about time I explain to Miranda why I keep waking her up at three in the morning to let me in through the window” you laughed, imagining the look on her face when you finally spill the beans to her, she’s undoubtedly by excited by the news, but probably also scold you for keeping it from her for so long.

The sun’s golden rays poured down through the dancing leaves that dressed the trees and sunk into your skin, you watched as Percy’s eyes almost seemed to glow in the light, he was summer’s child.

You relaxed against the tree and pulled Percy closer to you, and for a moment you let the world consist of just the two of you. You never thought it ever would, even though the two of you had been friends since the age of twelve there was never a time where you could just breathe together. there was always a quest, or a battle, or a four thousand year old girl who Percy vanished with for two weeks, that one had caused a raft between you for a few weeks.

But now you simply exist together, and it makes everything worth it.

You brought a hand up to rest against his upper arm, revelling in the heat that was coming of his dirt covered skin, you made a mental note to tease him about it later and send him off to the showers. Your hand continued it travels upwards and you finally landed in the space between his shoulder and his neck, running a thumb against the underside of his jaw.

“you in love with me or something?” Percy teased, drawing a hum from you in response

“I might just be, Jackson” you grinned, before letting out a gasp as Percy dipped his head quickly and kissed you. It started off heavy and warmed you up like nothing else, it slowed down into soft pecks before Percy drew away, not without pressing on last kiss to your redden lips.

“I might just love you too” Percy breathes out, dipping back down again to press his lips to the side of your mouth, “my sweet girl” he mumbled against your lips finally before pressing one last kiss to them.

“Percy” you whispered, putting a hand against his chest to create some distance as you flushed at the realisation of how exposed the two of you were. Percy took a step back with a smug grin, his hands never leaving you.

“you are though” Percy continues, causing you shove against him gently in protest “my sweet girl, or do you prefer my girl, cus you know both statements are true-”

“shut up” you whine out in embarrassment, he was so shameless. Percy laughed at your protest and took your hand in his, pulling you towards the rows of cabins.

“what’re we doing?” you said, letting him lead you away from the shade of the trees, Percy only smiled at you before continuing ahead

“we’re going to hang out with the rest of the campers, maybe your friend Pollux will be there”

you give him a deadpan look at the mention of Pollux, still wondering how a man like Percy could be jealous of your friendship with Pollux, it was obvious you only had eyes for him.

“and why are you so eager to get us there?” you questioned curiously

“cus I want them all to see that you’re my girl” he stated back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to press a quick kiss against. You sighed and made a show of dramatically rolling your eyes.

I guess he was sticking to that term, his girl.

...

a/n: helloooo, wrote this in a couple of hours so it's rushed like all of my works <3 my first non christmas inspired percy work so i hope yous like it!!!

#percy jackson #book percy jackson #pjo #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #x reader #pjo fandom #fanfic #connor stoll #selina beauregard #pjoverse

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master-muffinn · 1 year ago

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Lord of the rings X druid!reader headcanons

Legolas x reader, Thranduil x reader, Gandalf x reader (platonic), Merry/Pippin x reader (platonic), Elanor x reader.

Legolas

🧚‍♀️ Legolas is very curious and excited! He wants to know EVERYTHING about you and what you can do!

🧚‍♀️ But he finds the fact that you can turn to different kinds of animals the most interesting, and asks you a lot of questions about every animal you can transform too.

“Y/n what is that for an odd creature?”

“It’s a seastar”

“A STAR!??” 🤩

🧚‍♀️ Asks you if he can touch you in your animal forms. He lights up with happiness when you say ‘yes’ and touches you with utmost care and curiosity.

🧚‍♀️ Loves carrying you around in your smaller forms. If you turn to a snake he’ll put you around his neck like a necklace, a bird on his head or any other animal that can be on his shoulders.

🧚‍♀️ When the fellowship was in the snowy mountains and while the others had to walk in the deep snow, you were a little mouse in Legolas warm pocket. Not needing to do anything and Legolas didn’t need to worry about your safety. Win-win.

Thranduil

“I thought the druids died out for 4000 years ago, guess i was wrong”

🍷 Like Legolas he is very much interested but in a more calmer and quieter way. He also likes the animal shapes more.

🍷 He likes when you turn to a little bird and sit on his shoulder whenever he goes to different places.

🍷 LOVES when he sits on his throne and you turn to a smaller animal and sit on his large hand and put your tiny paws on his fingers- the king has heart eyes. 😍 (yes you are his pet now lol) And he totally would feed you grapes too.

🍷 Other than that he also likes your plant and flower abilities. He has left the garden's beauty to you and it is shining more beautifully than it ever has since you came into his life- or perhaps it is just (amazing) you who has grown beautiful and colorful flowers in his heart❤.

🍷 And of course he will try out some of your abilities in the bedroom 😉

Gandalf

🧙‍♂️ Sorry Frodo, Sorry Bilbo, y/n is his number one favorite friend now!

🧙‍♂️ He is very fascinated over your elemental abilities. Wind, water, fire, plants/trees? “What can you do?”

🧙‍♂️ Gandalf would try (hard) to not sound too eager and excited when you show him. But he can’t help but smile and laugh when you make a phoenix appear out of the fire.

🧙‍♂️ Might show you his ‘magic’ if you ask nicely and you will inspire one another.

🧙‍♂️ If you have any difficulties with your training and elemental controlling he will give you advice and guidance with what he knows.

🧙‍♂️ Gandalf wouldn't mind if you join him for a while on his journey. He greatly enjoys your company.

Merry/Pippin

🤡 Oh no! OH NOOO! Gandalf will pray to god ... .PLEASE DON’T LET THE WORLD END!!

🤡 When they learn what you are, they will storm you with questions. They will drag you with them for every little prank and misery they are planning.

“Y/n, can you turn to bird and poop on someone's hea-” (pippin)

“No!”

“Can you poop in someones drin-”

“No!”

“Can you-”

“ENOUGH WITH THESE POOP REQUESTS!!!!”

🤡 If you meet on the ring quest, they will ask you to turn to a larger and fluffy animal, like a bear so they can sleep with (on) you on cold nights (like the bear in jungle book? Yes!) Boromir will get jealous because you stole his children. 😢

Elanor Brandyfoot

🐌 The others don't trust you and don't want you around until you show them how quickly you can turn seeds to flowers.

🐌 Elanor will try to calm them down and talk to them so they don’t ‘use’ you for their ‘food greed’.

🐌 You two will have a contest of who is quickest to fill a bucket with berries, buuut of course Elanor wins.

“Looks like ya powers weren't able to outmatch me!”

🐌 She loves to see your abilities and is very happy that others like you too and have accepted you to the group, but she gets a little jealous when you get too much attention because she wants to be alone with you too!

🐌 She loves the evenings when things have been calming down and laying under the stars with her head on your (larger) animal form. Petting you is very calming for her and she mostly falls asleep like that with you.

Thank you for reading! I hope you like it! 💖

Post made by me, @master-muffinn

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mionemymind · 1 year ago

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Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area.

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here.

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.”

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants.

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch.

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself.

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.”

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily.

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.”

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.”

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place.

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.”

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?”

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?”

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait.

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.”

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?”

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states.

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time.

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.”

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them.

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers.

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.”

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!”

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.”

“Anytime, Wanda.”

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy @olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fluff #lost in the universe #marvel #wanda maximoff fluff

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months ago

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Ace Trappola: Trouble, that Trappola

Wow, different pjs??? I wonder if each student will truly have unique sleepwear or if it’ll be like “everyone in the same dorm has similar sleepwear, just recolored and with a different motif”. I’ve been laughing about how Ace is dressed and posed, it’s very… Justin Bieber-coded. His bedhead though, it reminds me of Sylvain from FE3H.

Fun fact, I have an irl friend that has the same birthday as Ace... Therefore, I am legally obligated to celebrate it with them/j This year, we're going to an Alice in Wonderland-themed afternoon tea, which I think is very appropriate for Ace! Aaaaaah, My Alice in Wonderland-loving heart can’t take it 😭

Rise and Shine!

He was having a pleasant dream.

There was a path, and the longer he walked on that path, the more the scenery morphed into nonsense.

First was a forest full of twisting turns, colorful signs that pointed this way and that. There was mewing coming from the trees overhead, but every time he looked, he’d find no one there.

Next was a field of progressively bigger and bigger plants. The flowers had faces set in them, and they taunted Ace as he passed. He had plucked the underside of a mushroom cap and chomped down on it. A mistake—Ace had an out-of-body experience, ballooning to the size of a giant and then back to his regular size.

Then he washed away in a sea of tea, spilling from a gigantic glass bottle labelled Drink Me. He swam with the sugar cubes drifting in the fragrant rapids. He caught a current of milk and rode it past trees of chocolate. A dollop of grape jam had dropped down from a branch and landed on his nose.

When Ace, at last, fished himself out of the tea, he was left sticky, skin caked in sugar. As he made to wring his clothes of Darjeeling, he spotted an iced cookie by his feet. Eat Me, it said. There was a trail of them, confections dotting the road ahead in a neat trail. He had followed it—followed until the cookies became crumbs and he was left wandering in a white void, a blank canvas.

Wandering… wandering… where?

Just as that question cropped up like an unwanted weed in an otherwise flawless lawn, a soft sound tickled his ear.

Someone was calling his name.

Who is it…?

He picked up his pace. A casual stroll to a speed walk, then a speed walk into a jog, a job into a run, then a run into a full-on sprint.

"I'm coming! I'm coming already, darn it!!" Ace shouted into the blinding white. "I'm coming, so...!!"

Wait for me. I'll meet you there.

I'll definitely, definitely...!!

His eyes snapped open.

He was lying on his back, wrapped up in his comforter and staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Ace blinked several times, slowly adjusting to the sunlight that was spilling in through drawn curtains. A groan escaped him--it was too early for this.

“Mmm… What time is it?” He rolled over in a groggy daze, reaching for his phone. It was still connected to a charger, but it snapped right out of its socket when Ace jolted up. "WHAT?!"

The time, it couldn't be correct. But the line of text messages in his history confirmed the building dread in his stomach.

Gm, Ace! I'll be over soon. Cya then.

I'm here!

Hey, are you up? It's 10 minutes past.

Did you stay up late talking to your bro and sleep through your alarm again?

Hellooooo?

I'm gonna leave without you if you don't come out in 5 minutes.

"Crap, I'm running late!!"

Ace leapt out of bed and flew across his room. The comics and magazines littering his mattress scattered to the floor, but he didn't stop to pick them up.

He moved like lightning, hurriedly dressing and rushing into the communal washroom. While he brushed his teeth with one hand (lest he face the wrath of his vice dorm leader), he teased out his hair with the other. After splashing his face with water (who was going to clock him, Vil?), Ace scribbled on his signature heart, grabbed his backpack, and slipped into his sneakers.

He had his technique down pat thanks to years of practice.

Ace bolted down the hall, stuffing a protein bar into his mouth as he cleared the door. The day greeted him--and so did you, glancing up from your own phone.

"There you are! You kept me waiting, wise guy," you lectured him. It wasn't anything serious--not like his dorm leader's lengthy tirades--just paling around.

"Excuse you," Ace huffed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm fashionably late. There's a difference."

You laughed. Typical of him to always have a snappy comeback prepared.

"Well, c'mon then, fashionably late loser," you urged, playfully nudging his arm, "or we'll both be tardy."

"We'll be late, but at least we'll be late together," he grumbled, nudging you back. "That's fine by me. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be stuck in a room with ya for the afternoon."

"That's a weird way of describing detention with Crewel-sensei."

"What can I say? I'm a poet," he shrugged, letting his sarcasm drip like thick nectar. "Besides, I can't leave you hangin'."

"No?" Your eyebrows hitched. "Funny, cuz I clearly remember you ditching me for cleaning duty on the first day of classes. I almost thought you had left for class without me today too."

"Oi, that was then and this is now! Come on, do you really think I'd do that to you? Me? Really?"

"Absolutely," you said without missing a beat.

"Pfft. You're so wrong about that." He rolled his eyes. "If you were really that worried that I'd gone without you, you could've poked your head in to check on me."

You frowned. "That'd mean I'd have to go into your room."

"So? I've been over at your place and in your room before. What's the big deal? You'd just be returning the favor."

He leaned in, so close that your noses almost touched. Your heart stood still. The corners of Ace's mouth lifted into a smirk. It suited him well, loathe as you were to admit it.

"Or is it that you're being shy?" he asked in a singsong. "Prefect 🎵"

"I-I'm not!" you squeaked, stepping back to put distance between the two of you. "Quit assuming things, Ace! This is why you're so annoying."

"And who is it that's decided to hang out with my 'annoying' ass, huh?" he countered smoothly.

"Urgh...! Maybe I shouldn't have wasted my time waiting for you to get ready after all..." you muttered, turning away from him. "My morning would be way more peaceful without you."

"Way less interesting too," he quipped--getting in the last word.

You shook your head, but didn't bring yourself to argue. However meddlesome his tongue was, he had spoken the naked truth.

He's trouble, that Trappola.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ace Trappola #twst x reader #Ace Trappola x Reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Reader #self insert #jp spoilers #something no one asked for #Ace birthday takeover #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #I wonder if Ace made that same face when he got the SOS text from Yuu in book 4 #bet he did

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covid-safer-hotties · 8 months ago

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Also preserved on our archive (Daily updates!)

An older (published in January 2024) but interesting and comprehensive look at long Covid's effect on Latino families and communities in the US.

By Lygia Navarro and Johanna Bejarano

Editor’s note: This story first appeared on palabra, the digital news site by the National Association of Hispanic Journalists. It is part of a series produced in partnership between palabra and Northwest Public Broadcasting (NWPB) with the collaboration of reporters Lygia Navarro and Johanna Bejarano. *Some people interviewed for this article requested anonymity to discuss private health issues.

Victoria* is already exhausted, and her story hasn’t even begun. It’s late January 2021 in rural Sunnyside, Washington. The town of 16,000 people is a sleepy handful of blocks flecked with pickup trocas, churches on nearly every corner, and the twangs of Clint Black and Vicente Fernández. Geometric emerald chunks of farmland encircle the town.

Thirty-nine-year-old Victoria drags herself back and forth to her parents’ bedroom in a uniform of baggy burgundy sweatpants, scarf, knit hat and mask. Always a mask. As the eldest sibling, her unspoken job is to protect the family. But COVID-19 hits before they can get vaccinated.

When Victoria’s mamá got sick and quickly infected her papá, Victoria quarantined them. She shut them in their room, only cracking the door briefly to slide food in before retreating in a fog of Lysol.

Working in the health field, Victoria knows if they make it through the first 14 days without hospitalization, they will likely survive. Yet, caregiving drains her: Keeping track of fevers. Checking oxygen saturation. Making sure they’re drinking Pedialyte to stay hydrated. Worrying whether they will live or die.

Five days in, COVID comes for Victoria. Hard. Later, when she repeatedly scrutinizes these events, Victoria will wonder if it was the stress that caused it all — and changed her life forever.

At the pandemic’s onset, Victoria’s family’s work dynamics fit the standard in Sunnyside, where 86% of residents are Latino. “Keeping the members of your household safe — it was hard for a lot of families,” Victoria says. Living in multigenerational homes, many adult children, who’d grown up in the United States with access to education, had professional jobs, and switched to working from home. Their immigrant elders, who’d often only been able to finish fourth grade, braved the world to toil in fields, produce packing plants, supermarkets, or delivery trucks. As Leydy Rangel of the UFW Foundation puts it: “You can’t harvest food through Zoom.”

More than three decades ago, when 6-year-old Victoria’s family migrated from rural northern Mexico to this fertile slip of land cradling the zigzagging Yakima River, their futures promised only prosperity and opportunity.

According to oral histories of the Confederated Tribes and Bands of the Yakama Nation — who white colonizers forced out of the Yakima Valley in 1855 — the valley’s fecund lands have fed humans since time immemorial. Soon after the Yakamas’ removal to a nearby reservation, settler agriculture exploded.

By World War II, employers were frantic to hire contracted bracero laborers from Mexico — themselves descendants of Indigenous ancestors — to harvest the valley’s bounty of asparagus, pears, cherries and other cornucopia. This was how Victoria’s family arrived here: her abuelo and his brother had traveled back and forth to Washington as braceros decades before.

Victoria’s path took similar twists, in a 21st century, first-gen way. She moved all over the country for her education and jobs, then returned before the pandemic, bringing a newfound appreciation for the taste of apples freshly plucked from a tree that morning, and for the ambrosial scent of mint and grapes permeating the valley before harvest.

Today, agriculture is the largest industry fueling the Yakima Valley, the country’s twelfth-largest agriculture production area. Here, 77% of the nation’s hops (an essential ingredient in beer) and 70% of the nation’s apples are grown. Latinos, who constitute more than half of Yakima County’s population, power the agricultural industry.

While the area’s agricultural enterprises paid out $1.1 billion in wages in 2020, 59% of the low-wage agriculture jobs are held by undocumented folks and contracted foreign seasonal laborers doing work many Americans spurn. Latinos here live on median incomes that are less than half of white residents’, with 16% of Latinos living in poverty. Also in 2020: as they watched co-workers fall ill and die, Latino farmworkers repeatedly went on strike protesting employers’ refusals to provide paid sick leave, hazard pay and basic COVID protections like social distancing, gloves and masks.

“Every aspect of health care is lacking in the valley,” Yakima Herald-Republic health reporter Santiago Ochoa tells me.

In interview after interview, Yakima Valley residents and health care workers sketch in the details of a dire landscape:

The state’s busiest emergency room. Abrupt shutdowns of hospital facilities. Impoverished people without transportation or internet access for telehealth. Eight-month waits for primary care appointments. Nearly one in five Latinos uninsured. More than half of residents receive Medicaid. Resident physicians cycling in and out, never getting to know their patients. Not enough specialists, resulting in day-long trips for specialized care in bigger cities. With its Latino essential workforce risking their lives to feed their families — and the country — by summer 2020, COVID blazed through Yakima County, which quickly became Washington’s most scorching of hot spots. Not only did Yakima County tally the highest per-capita case rate of all West Coast counties (with Latinos making up 67% versus, 26% for white people), it also saw more cases than the entire state of Oregon. Ask Latinos here about 2020, and they shiver and avert their gazes, the trauma and death still too near.

Their positive tests marked just the beginning of terrifying new journeys as COVID slammed Victoria and many other Yakima Valley Latinos. Mix in scanty rural health care, systemic racism and a complicated emerging illness, and what do you get? Chaos: a population hardest hit by long COVID, but massively untreated, underdiagnosed, and undercounted by the government and medicine itself.

It won’t go away The cough was the first clue something wasn’t right. When Victoria had COVID, she’d coughed a bit. But then, three months later, she started and couldn’t stop.

The Yakima Valley is so starved for physicians that it took five months to see a primary care doctor, who attributed Victoria’s incessant cough to allergies. Victoria tried every antihistamine and decongestant available; some brought relief for three, maybe four weeks, and then returned spasms of the dry, gasping bark. A few minutes apart, all day long. The worst was waking up coughing, at least hourly.

Victoria had chest x-rays. An ear, nose and throat specialist offered surgery on her nose’s deviated septum. As months passed, the black hair framing Victoria’s heart-shaped face started aging rapidly, until it was grayer than her mother’s.

Over a year after the cough began, an allergist prescribed allergy drops, and Victoria made a chilling discovery. Once the drops stopped the cough for a month, then two, Victoria realized that the extreme fatigue she’d thought was sleep deprivation from coughing all night persisted.

“The exhaustion comes from within your soul, it overpowers you,” she says. “It’s intolerable.”

And her mind was foggy. When interrupted at work every 10 minutes by a coughing jag, Victoria hadn’t realized COVID had substantially altered her brain. “There are things in my brain that I should have access to, like words, definitions, memories,” she says. “I know that they’re there but I can’t access them. It’s like a filing cabinet, but I can’t open it.”

Before long, the cough resurfaced. Sometime in 2021, reading COVID news for work, Victoria learned of long COVID: new or lingering health issues persisting at least three months after COVID infection.

How to get help if you think you might have long COVID Talk to your doctor, and if your doctor doesn’t listen to your concerns, bring a loved one to advocate for you at your next appointment. Bring this article (or other materials on long COVID) to show your doctor. Ask your doctor about seeing specialists for long COVID symptoms, such as a cardiologist (for dysautonomia symptoms like dizziness, heart palpitations and shortness of breath), a gastroenterologist (for digestive problems), or a neurologist (for chronic nerve pain). Ask to be referred to a long COVID clinic (if there is one in your area). Now four years into the pandemic, there is still no treatment or cure for long COVID. COVID long-haulers (as they call themselves) have reported over 200 varied symptoms, with fatigue, dizziness, heart palpitations, post-exertion exhaustion, gastrointestinal issues, and brain dysfunction among the most common.

Long COVID is far from a mysterious illness, as it’s often called by the medical establishment and some media. There are precedents: for at least a century, historical documentation has shown that, while most recover, some people remain sick after viral or other illnesses. Yet funds for research have been severely limited, and sufferers ignored. Myalgic Encephalomyelitis – sometimes called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or ME/CFS — is a prime example. Like ME/CFS, long COVID afflicts many more women (and people assigned female at birth) than men, with women comprising as many as 80% of COVID long-haulers. Most long-haulers are in their 30s, 40s and 50s — the busiest years for women with children, who often put their own needs last.

What should have been instantly clear, given how disproportionately Black and Brown communities were hit by COVID, was that long COVID would wallop Americans of color. Yet, the U.S. government waited until June 2022 to begin tracking long COVID. Even now, with 18 months of data showing Latinos are the population most impacted by long COVID, palabra is among the very few media outlets to report this fact. Are the nation and the medical community willfully ignoring Latino long-haulers — after sending them into clouds of coronavirus to keep society’s privileged safe?

Fighting for a diagnosis When Victoria mentioned long COVID, her doctor didn’t exactly ignore her: she listened, said “OK,” but never engaged on the topic. Same with Victoria’s allergist and the ear, nose and throat specialist. All they could do, the doctors said, was treat her symptoms.

“I’m highly educated and I know that you have to be your own advocate. But I kept asking, kept going on that line of thought, and they had nothing to say to me. Absolutely nothing,” she laments.

Victoria understood science on long COVID was limited, but still expected more. “All of the treatments we tried, it was as if COVID hadn’t existed. They should at least say that we need to investigate more, not continue acting like it wasn’t a factor. That was what was most frustrating.”

Just as Victoria fought to have her illness validated by doctors, 30 miles away in the northern Yakima Valley town of Moxee, 52-year-old María* waged a parallel battle. Both felt utterly alone.

When the pandemic began, María became the protector of her husband and children, all asthmatics. When she fell ill New Year’s Day 2021, she locked herself in her room, emerging weeks later to find her life unrecognizable.

Recounting her struggles, María reads deliberately from notes, holding back tears, then pushes her reading glasses atop her head. (María moved here from northern Mexico as an adult, and feels most comfortable in Spanish.) Her dyed brown hair, gold necklace and lightly made-up face project convivial warmth, but something intangible behind her expression belies a depth of grief María refuses to let escape. When I tell her I also have long COVID, and fell ill the exact same month, she breathes out some of her anxiety.

María’s long COVID includes chronic, full-body pain; memory lapses so severe she sometimes can’t remember if she’s eaten breakfast; such low energy that she’s constantly like a battery out of juice; unending shortness of breath; joint inflammation; and blood flow issues that leave her hands a deep purple. (The only time María ventured to the hospital, for her purple hands, she says staff attempted to clean them, thinking it was paint.) Like Victoria, María used to enjoy exercise and hiking in the valley’s foothills, but can do neither anymore.

María has no insurance, and receives care at the Yakima Valley Farm Workers Clinic, created in 1978 out of the farmworkers’ movement. The clinic’s multiple locations are the valley’s main providers of care irrespective of patients’ ability to pay.

Whereas Victoria’s doctors expressed indifference to the idea of COVID causing her health complaints, María’s doctors not only discounted this connection, but made serious errors of misdiagnosis.

“Every week I went to see my doctor. She got so stressed out (at not knowing what was wrong with me) that she stressed me out,” María says. “My doctor told me, ‘You know what? I think you have multiple sclerosis.’” María saw specialists, and afterwards, even without confirmation, María says her doctor still insisted she had MS. “I told her, ‘No. No, I don’t have multiple sclerosis. It’s COVID. This happened after COVID.’ I was really, really, really, really, really, really insistent on telling them that all of this was after COVID.”

Latinos uncovering the connections between their ill health and COVID is rare, partially due to the plummet in COVID coverage on Spanish-language news, says Monica Verduzco-Gutierrez, a long-hauler and head of the University of Texas Health Science Center San Antonio long COVID clinic. There has been no national public education on long COVID, in any language.

“It’s hard for people to understand what the real impact of long COVID is now and in the future,” says Lilián Bravo, Yakima Health District director of public health partnerships and the face of COVID updates on Yakima Valley television early in the pandemic. “We’re looking at a huge deficit in terms of people’s quality of life and ‘productivity.’”

Eventually, María’s doctor sent her to another specialist, who said that if she didn’t improve within a month, he’d operate on her hip. María’s never had hip problems. “He said, ‘Well, I don’t know what you’re going to do,’” and then put her on a strong steroid medication that made her vomit horribly, María says. She hasn’t tallied what she’s spent on medical bills, but after paying $1,548 for a single test, it must be many thousands of dollars.

Meanwhile, María’s family and friends kept insisting her maladies were psychological. “I never accepted that. I told them: ‘It’s not in my head. It’s in my body.’” It wasn’t until more than a year after becoming ill that María finally saw a rheumatologist who diagnosed her with long COVID and other immune dysfunctions. “I told her, ‘Yes, I knew that my body wasn’t working. I knew that something was wrong.’ I felt like I could relax. Finally someone is telling me that it’s not all in my head.” Once María was diagnosed, her extended family switched to asking how she was feeling and sympathizing with her.

Victoria, on the other hand, has never received a long COVID diagnosis. At Victoria’s request, her doctor referred her to the state’s only long COVID clinic, at the University of Washington in Seattle, but Victoria’s insurance, Kaiser Permanente, refused to pre-approve the visit — and the clinic wouldn’t accept cash from her. At present, the clinic isn’t even accepting patients from the Yakima Valley or any other part of Washington — they are only accepting patients in King County, which includes Seattle.

Victoria’s family hasn’t accepted her health struggles either. “I’d say, ‘I know that you think I’m crazy,’” Victoria says, chuckling, as she often does to lighten her discomfort. “My mom would fight with me: ‘You forgot to do this! Why are you so spacey?’ ‘Mami, it’s not that I forgot. In reality, I completely lost track of it.’” If Victoria is fatigued, her family asks how that’s possible after a full night’s sleep. “I’ve found that I have to defend myself. When I try to explain to people, they hear it as excuses from a lazy person — especially being Latinos.”

Karla Monterroso, a 42-year-old California Latina long-hauler since March 2020 who spent her first year bedbound, says, “(With long COVID), we have to rest in a way that, in our culture, is very difficult to achieve. We really judge exhaustion.” In fact, pushing physically or mentally for work can make long-haulers much sicker. Karla says Latino ethics of hard work like those of Victoria’s parents “aren’t the principles that are going to serve us with this illness.”

Long COVID diagnoses in Latinos are still too rare, due to untrained family medicine physicians and medical stereotypes, says Verduzco-Gutierrez. (Doctors might see blood sugar changes, for example, and assume that’s just because of Latinos’ high rates of diabetes, rather than long COVID.) She says “misinformation on long COVID” is rampant, with physicians claiming long COVID is a fad, or misdiagnosing the bone-deep exhaustion as depression. When Verduzco-Gutierrez’s own doctor invited her to speak to their practice, the assembled physicians weren’t aware of basic research, including that the drugs Paxlovid and Metformin can help prevent long COVID if taken at infection. In Washington, physicians must complete training on suicide, which takes 1,200 to 1,300 lives in the state yearly, but there’s no state-wide training on long COVID, which currently affects at least 498,290 Washingtonians.

Cultural skepticism about medicine — and entrenched stigmas about illness and disability — mean Sunnyside conversations about aftereffects don’t mention COVID itself. Victoria’s relatives push traditional herbal remedios, assuming that anyone still sick isn’t doing enough to recover. “(People suffering) feel like they’re complaining too much if they try to talk about it,” Victoria says. Meanwhile, her parents and others in her community avoid doctors out of stubbornness and mistrust, she says, “until they’re bleeding, when they’re super in pain…, when it’s gotten to the worst that they can handle.”

“People in this community use their bodies for work,” Victoria says. “If you’re Latino, you’re a hard worker. Period,” says Bravo. “What’s the opposite of that, if you’re not a hard worker? What are you? People don’t want to say, ‘I came to this country to work and all of a sudden I can’t anymore.’”

Victoria sees this with her parents, who’ve worked since the age of 10. Both have health issues inhibiting their lives since having COVID — her dad can’t take his daily hour-long walks anymore because of heart palpitations and shortness of breath, and her mom began getting headaches and saw her arthritis worsen dramatically — yet neither will admit they have long COVID. Nor will their friends and family. “If they noticed the patterns of what they themselves are saying and what their friends of the same age are suffering after COVID,” Victoria says of her community, “they’d hear that almost everyone is suffering some type of long COVID.”

Long COVID’s deep impact on Latinos The “back to normal” ethos is most obvious in the absence of long COVID messaging while as many as 41 million adults now have — or have recovered from — long COVID nationwide. “The way that we’re talking about the pandemic is delegitimizing some of (long COVID’s) real impacts,” says Bravo of the Yakima Health District.

Even with limited demographic data, statistics show a nationwide reality similar to Victoria’s Sunnyside. Through a recurring survey, the Census Bureau estimates that 36% of Latinos nationally have had long COVID — likely a vast underestimate, given that the survey takes 20 minutes to complete online (Latinos have lower rates of broadband internet), and reaches only a sliver of the U.S. population. Experts like Verduzo-Gutierrez believe that true rates of long COVID in Latinos are higher than any reported statistic. California long-hauler Karla Monterroso agrees: “We are underdiagnosed by a severe amount. I do not believe the numbers.”

This fall, a UC Berkeley study reported that 62% of a group of infected California farmworkers developed long COVID. Weeks later, a survey from the University of Washington’s Latino Center for Health found that, of a sample group of 1,546 Washington Latinos, 41% of those infected became long-haulers. The Washington results may also be an undercount: many long-haulers wouldn’t have the energy or brain clarity to complete the 12-page survey, which was mailed to patients who’d seen their doctor within the prior six months. Meanwhile, many long-haulers stop seeing doctors after tiring of the effort and cost with no answers.

“Our community has not bounced back,” says Angie Hinojos, executive director of Centro Cultural Mexicano, which has distributed $29 million in rent assistance in Washington and hasn’t seen need wane. “That is going to affect our earning potential for generations.” The United Farm Workers’ philanthropic sister organization, the UFW Foundation, says union organizers hear about long COVID, and how it’s keeping people out of work, frequently.

Cultural and linguistic disconnects abound between doctors and Latinos on long COVID symptoms, some of which, like brain fog and fatigue, are nebulous. If doctors lack patient rapport — or don’t speak their language — they’ll miss what patients aren’t sharing about how long COVID changed their lives, work and relationships. That’s if Latinos actually go to the doctor.

“If you’re working in the orchards and your muscles are always sore, it’s just part of the day-to-day reality,” says Jesús Hernández, chief executive officer of Family Health Centers in north-central Washington. “If you’re constantly being exposed to dust and even chemicals in the work environment, it’s easy to just say, ‘Well, that’s just because of this or that,’ and not necessarily be readily willing to consider that this is something as unique as long COVID.”

Even Victoria says if not for the cough, she wouldn’t have sought medical advice for her fatigue. “There are a lot of people out there that are really tired, in a lot of pain and have no idea why. None,” says Karla, who was a nonprofit CEO when she became sick. “I have heard in the last three-and-a-half years the most racist and fatphobic things I have ever heard in my life. Like, ‘Oh, sometimes you got to lay off the beans and rice.’ I have a college education. I’m an executive. I am in the top 10% of wage earners in my community. If this is my experience, what is happening to the rest of my people?”

Conspiracy theories and misinformation As Yakima Valley’s Latino vaccination rates continue dropping, I hear all the COVID conspiracy theories: the vaccine has a chip that’ll track you; the vaccine makes you and your children infertile; COVID tests are rigged to all be positive; that hospitals get paid more for COVID patients. Victoria laughs at the most absurd one she’s heard. Her mom’s explanation for her health problems nearly three years after COVID: the vaccine.

Across the Latino United States, social media algorithms and WhatsApp threads promoting COVID disinformation proliferate. Last summer, Latino Center for Health co-director Dr. Leo Morales did a long COVID community presentation just south of Yakima Valley. The audience’s first question: Are vaccines safe? “This is where we’re still at,” Morales says. “That’ll be a big stumbling block for people…in terms of getting to talking about long COVID.”

One morning in early November, Morales and his team gather in Toppenish at Heritage University, where 69% of students are Latino, to present their survey data. Neither presenters nor attendees wear masks, an essential tool for preventing COVID transmission and long COVID. “The only conversation that I’m having about COVID is in this room,” says María Sigüenza, executive director of the Washington State Commission on Hispanic Affairs.

Yakima Valley health institutions are also ignoring long COVID. Of the two main hospital systems, Astria Health declines interview requests and MultiCare reports that of 325,491 patients seen between January and November 2023, 112 — or 0.03% — were diagnosed with long COVID. The Yakima Valley Farmworkers Clinic, where María’s doctor works, refuses to let me speak to anyone about long COVID, despite providing patient information for the Latino Center for Health’s survey. Their doctors simply aren’t seeing long COVID, the clinic claims. Same with the other main community provider, Yakima Neighborhood Health Services, whose media officer responds to my interview requests with: “It’s not going to happen.”

“I think they’re not asking, they’re not looking,” Verduzco-Gutierrez says. “Do the doctors just…look at your diabetes or your blood pressure, but not ask you, ‘Did your diabetes get worse when you had COVID? Did your blood pressure get worse? Did you not have blood pressure problems before? And now do you get dizzy? Do you get headaches? Do you have pains?’” She believes that many, if not most, Latinos with long COVID aren’t getting care, whom she calls “the ones that we’re missing.”

An uncertain future The outlook for Latinos with long COVID is grim. Cultural stigma and ableism cause now-disabled long-haulers to feel shame. (Ableism is societal prejudice and discrimination against disabled people.) Disability benefits are nearly impossible to get. Long-haulers are losing their homes, jobs and insurance. Latinos’ overrepresentation in sectors that don’t offer sick pay and are heavily physical — cleaning, service, agriculture, construction, manufacturing, homecare and healthcare among them — may automatically put them at higher long COVID risk, given ample anecdotal evidence that pushing through a COVID infection instead of resting can lead to long COVID. Latino care providers will become ill in greater numbers, imperiling the healthcare industry.

But Latinos may not be clear on these factors, says long-hauler Karla Monterroso. “My tío had said…'We must be defective because we get sick more than the white people.’ And I’m like ‘No, tío. We are exposed to the illness more. There’s nothing defective about our bodies.’ I’m afraid for us. It’s just going to be disability after disability after disability. We have to start in our small communities building caring infrastructure so that we can help each other. I am clear: No one is coming to save us. We’ve got to save us.”

Disability justice advocates worry about systems unable to cope with inevitable disabling waves of COVID in the future. “(Latinos) aren’t taking it as serious as they should,” says Mayra Colazo, executive director of Central Washington Disability Resources. “They’re not protecting each other. They’re not protecting themselves.” Karla sees the psychology behind this denial: “I have thought a lot about how much it takes to put yourself in danger every single day. (You have) to say ‘Oh, it’s fine. People are exaggerating,’ or you get that you’re in existential hell all of the time.”

Reinfection brings additional risk of long COVID, research shows, and Verduzco-Gutierrez says, “We still don’t know the impact of what is going to happen with all these reinfections. Is it going to cause more autoimmune disease? Is it going to be causing more dementia? Is it going to be causing more cancer?” She believes that every medical chart should include a COVID history, to guide doctors to look for the right clues.

“If we were to be lucky enough to capture everybody who has long COVID, we would overwhelm our (health) system and not be able to do anything for them,” Victoria says. “What’s the motivation for the medical field, for practitioners to find all those people?” For now, Victoria sees none. “And until that changes, I don’t think we will (properly count Latino long-haulers),” she adds.

Flashes of hope do exist. In September 2023, the federal government granted $5 million each to multiple long COVID clinics, including three with Latino-specific projects. In New York City, Mt. Sinai Hospital will soon open a new long COVID clinic near largely-Latino East Harlem, embedded in a primary care clinic with staff from the community to reach Latino long-haulers. Verduzco-Gutierrez’s San Antonio clinic will teach primary care providers across largely rural, Latino South Texas to conduct 15-minute low-tech long COVID examinations (the protocol for which is still being devised), and will deploy community tools to educate Latinos on long COVID.

Meanwhile, at the University of Washington long COVID clinic, staff are preparing a patient handbook, which will be adapted for Latinos and then translated into Spanish. They will also train primary care physicians to be local long COVID experts, and will return to treating patients from the whole state rather than just the county containing Seattle. After palabra’s inquiry, the UFW Foundation now has plans to survey United Farm Workers members to gauge long COVID pervasiveness, so the Foundation can lobby legislators and other decision makers to improve Latino long-hauler care.

Back at the Yakima Valley survey presentation, attendees brainstorm new care models: Adding long COVID screening to pediatric checkups, given that long COVID most impacts child-bearing-age women, so moms can bring information to their families and community. Using accessible language for long COVID messaging, or, as Heritage University nursing faculty member Genevieve Aguilar puts it: “How would I talk to my tía, how would I talk to my abuelita? If they can understand me, we’re good to go. If they can’t, olvídate. We have to reframe.”

More than anything, personal narratives will be the key to open people’s minds about long COVID — although that path may be challenging. In Los Angeles, Karla has dealt with a lack of full family and community support, in part, she believes, because her body represents COVID. “I am living, breathing proof of a pandemic no one wants to admit is still happening, and that there is no cure for what I have. That is a really scary possibility.”

While Karla does identify as disabled, Victoria and María don’t. Victoria has learned to live and move within her physical limits. At work, she sometimes feels inhibited by her cognitive issues. “I tell my boss all the time, ‘Oh man, you guys hired such a smart person. But what you got was after COVID, so it’s not the same.’” At times, she worries about the trajectory of her career, about how her work’s intense problem-solving wears out her brain. Will she be able to pursue larger challenges in work in the future? Or will long COVID ultimately make her fail?

Victoria tells me she “remains hopeful that there is a solution.” In a surprising twist, her cough completely disappeared eight months ago — when she became pregnant. (Other long-haulers have seen their symptoms improve with pregnancy, as well, likely due to immune system changes allowing a pregnant person’s body to not reject their baby’s growing cells). Victoria is optimistic that her other symptoms might disappear after she gives birth. And that, maybe someday, her parents will admit they have long COVID, too.

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