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heelluring · 6 months

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— wherein your boyfriend, heeseung cheated...

warnings: C H E A T I N G, caught in an act redhanded, angst angst angst, cursing, sex, hoping bad things on someone, punching and slapping, melted ice cream (?)

You can't deny that the relationship between you and heeseung are starting to blur. It started with a simple, 'i'm tired...' until it escalated into no calls for almost a week. Tried to be an understanding girlfriend, giving him as much 'space' as he wants that maybe, you regret doing so. It feels like it just cause further drift in between you two.

You tried asking for help though, that's when your sister, rina came into picture. Your sister tried to reassure you, she is working at the same company as heeseung does and as his senior. "He's just tired, the company's expecting everything to be perfect for this upcoming project and everyone is tensed." She said dismissing your worries when you met her for a coffee.

"You really think so, unnie?"

"I swear, after this week hee will just come back to you as if nothing happened" You were delighted when you heard that. But, when did your sister called your boyfriend by his nickname that you only have the privileged to use? BUT THEN AGAIN, you're still happy with the reassurance she gave you. Holding out hope that you didn't poke around the 'nickname' incident too much. Maybe after working for the same company, they became close. Perhaps, rina and heeseung became each other's support system as they struggle to work in a toxic environment. That made you feel relieved for some reason.

True to her words, heeseung came back to you like nothing happened in the following week. He was all smiles, the happier ever since you seen him. You felt like the past came back when the both of you are just starting with your relationship. Heeseung was so attentive when he came back that time, saying he wanted to spend time together as a payment for all the times the two of you didn't got to do what the other couples do. You were happy, so happy. All the doubts, concerns, and insecurities was once again burned down the ground.

There's also a time where you invited rina to have lunch with you and heeseung, with also the purpose to thank her for reassuring you but of course, heeseung doesn't need to know about that. And so, with the three of you in a table, you can't help but smile and enjoy the company of the two people you love. Can't help but to laugh at their antics as they talk and tell silly stories together.

Then, heeseung had to go into a business trip. He said this would be his ticket to get a promotion, and as his girlfriend, you let him go with a heart burning support. Reassuring, and taking care of everything he need until he left. Weeks passed by and you haven't heard of him. Aside from the occasional, 'I'm okay... don't skip breakfast' there was nothing. No calls or video calls.

And, you understand. Heeseung was working so hard to get this promotion and the only thing you can do to support is by waiting for him. Just like today, as always... you tried your luck, maybe he's free and having his lunch right now since it's morning in the New York whilst it's late at night in Seoul. Maybe he'll finally pick up the phone since according to rina the company is doing some finishing touches and will be back at the end of the week, and besides there's only a 12 hours difference. You always make sure to call him in the morning to not disturb him so now that heeseung will be back soon, you were filled with hope. But then,

The number you have dialed is either—

he's not answering. You tried to dial his number again but it still failed. It's not even ringing, perhaps his phone died. Maybe he's too tired, is he even eating well? You can't do anything but sighed, and continued to walk. With a tab of ice cream in your hand, you finally saw Rina's apartment building. After confirming your identification to the security, you waited for the elevator.

Ever since heeseung left, you tried spending time with your sister. Growing up, you're not that close. And after her help with regards to your relationship, you felt something sparked in between of you causing you to wonder what happened for the two of you to grow apart. Seeing this as an opportunity to build connection, you tried hanging out with her. But, she's been busy for a while. Always saying that you two will hang out once all her work is done. You were concerned about her, of course. It looks like the company is giving her a hard time so you stepped up your game. What could comfort her better than a good creamy ice cream, right?

The elevator produced a sound the same time its doors opened to the intended floor. You calmy took a step, mumbling the unit number over and over again. "205... 205..." You carefully looked at the unit number before finally stopping at the right door. You were about to knock when the door moved open slightly at the sudden force from your knuckles. It didn't create a sound though, the door wasn't locked at all. Or, maybe rina thought she did locked it but failed to do so the last time she used it.

You, then pushed it completely open as the silence greets you. All the main lights are off aside from the light and soft sounds coming from the living room. You started walking through the entrance, and after sensing that there's a person, it automatically opened its lights. A pair of men's shoes scattered lousily at the floor. Your sister obviously got a visitor.

You continued your venture until you came into the living room. The light and the sound you heard earlier came from the TV as you expected, the soft buzz of the actors' voices where the only sounds heard in the entire apartment. Your eyes then travelled to a certain direction, and was greeted by a rather familiar suitcase. Your heart beat in a rather uncomfortable way. You were getting nervous from the thoughts that are slowly creeping inside your mind.

"It's impossible, y/n. Heeseung's still in new york..."

You sighed, trying to control your breathing that you didn't even noticed escalating the same time as your heart beat. After getting courage that you didn't even know where you get, you started walking closer to the couch. A piece of clothing one after another revealed in your eyes. You tried to calm yourself but the way your hands trembled says otherwise, as you bravely grabbed the neck tie that is disposed on the couch together with the others.

It's a classic dark blue with an elegant design. A design that you are so familiar with as the one who personally picked and gifted it for heeseung's birthday last year. You clutched it closes to your heart, as the other one made in contact with your mouth, tears slowly filling your waterlines.

"Ugh—" Your breath hitched at the sound, head swiftly looking at the direction of the master's bedroom to your side. You frozed completely, even your breath stopped. The only thing you can feel is the way you heart beats as you wait for another sound. Maybe it's all in your head, a hallucination. You decided to walk closer to the door, now all numb and deprived of normality.

You thought you're dead inside but what you see on the other side of the door is what further killed you. "Ugh, shit, hee! You're fucking me so good baby. Yes—" It was your sister getting fucked by your boyfriend of 3 years on the bed. You can clearly see how heeseung's cock disappear in her hole as he thrust. How her eyes rolled at the back of her head in every rut. Groans, moans, and slap of skin to skin were the ones dominating the whole room. How can you not hear them the first time you walked in? How can you not see all the signs?

That's when you realize, you were blind all along. How can you not suspect when your sister called your boyfriend by his nickname? How can you not doubt all the smiles and subtle touches they do at the lunch you three did? How can you be so oblivious all this time?

You sighed despite the shaky breath, as you swipe the tears away. This will fucking end now, and you'll make sure to see the end of it as you look at the security camera blinking in corner of the ceiling.

As the moans increased, you decided to kick the door with all the strength you had making it swung open with an alarming noise together with the panic screams you induced to the two people on the bed.

"Shit— Y/N!" Heeseung cursed getting dressed in panic as rina hugged the sheets to cover herself. "Y/N... this is not what it looks—" The man stopped his blabber when you throw the tab of ice cream at them and to everyone's surprise the now melted chocolate ice cream spilled everywhere staining the bed and the two. "We're over..." You said, surprised by how stable your voice are, how void you are of emotions. And, that's the last thing you said before turning around to walk away.

You were about to go out the front door when a pair of hands stopped you on your way, "Wait, y/n... please, love let me explain" Heeseung desperately begged, as he look straight at you. His eyes filled with emotions but... you unfortunately, weren't. His hair was messy, there are marks everywhere on his body, and most of all his lips are swelling with a stain of red lipstick, a profound reminder of his deception.

And, your lack of emotions as you look at him made heeseung devastated. You sneered, harshly swatting his hold before your clenched fists made in contact with his face. Heeseung fell on the floor, shocked as he look up to you. You thought you were drained of emotion but you were completely wrong. You can't feel anything other than, "I am so fucking disgusted of you." ... disgust. And the way your eyes look at him empty, with no expectation whatsoever, as if he wasn't deserving of any emotions even anger from you made heeseung even more distraught.

You felt another presence walking up to you, but before she can even finish apologizing your hands automatically made in contact with her cheeks making her look at you in shock. "I hope both of you suffer far more greater than I felt." and I'll make sure of that. You mumbled before walking completely out of their lives.

heelluring, 2024

#masterlist #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen ff #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #angst #lee heeseung #yang jungwon #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki

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ikarakie · 1 year

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one thing you learn living in new york: you literally never know what's going to happen the next day. it's become a general rule of thumb to expect the unexpected, so to speak.

despite this, when the avengers get reports of iron man flying in circles over queens, growing more frantic by the second, they're confused. mainly because they're currently sat at a table with tony stark himself. and, according to his ai, the suit that's out causing mayhem is still securely stored downstairs.

they all head out to see what the hell is going on. they meet with strange on the way, who mutters something about inter-dimensional disturbances and whatnot.

spider-man gets to the scene just before them. the second iron man visibly freezes when he spots him in his red and blue glory. "mr. stark?" they hear him ask. they see as he turns and spots them, and then does a double take. "what's going on?"

"underoos!" real tony calls, nervous, at the same time as the other one spots them, and then lurches forward to all but manhandle peter behind him.

the avengers all tense, readying for a fight. fake tony raises a repulsor. "i just want the kid. i don't want to fight."

"you don't belong here." strange says, infuriatingly calm. "i don't know how you got here, but you need to go home." fake tony nods. strange adds, "you can't take him with you." which earns him a rather mean blast. luckily, he ducks out of the way.

the poor kid is whipping his head back and forth, clearly confused. tony's stomach twists unhappily. "you don't understand," fake tony hisses, "all the work it took to get here. i'm not going home without him."

"you have to." strange takes a step forward, "you can't transport him between universes. it's not viable." the lenses on peter's suit widen, and he looks at the fake tony.

"he's from another universe?" steve asks, disbelieving. strange nods, and opens his mouth to say something more, but is cut off by the other-universe tony. he removes his faceplate, revealing a tony stark that is far more haggard than anyone had ever seen before. he's thinner, his eyes are darker, pleading. he looks like a man who's lost everything.

tony looks to peter, who's still staring, wide-eyed. he can see the gears in his head moving but can't decipher why.

"you dimension hopped to kidnap the kid?" tony asks, a little unfocused. the kid was in danger, and it was all he could think about. "why?" peter turns to him, then back to tony number two. he gasps as something apparently clicks in his brain.

he steps forwards, rounds the other-universe tony and stands in front of him. he instantly lowers the repulsor. "because i'm dead." peter says, confidently.

everyone pauses. they look at the spider like he's gone insane, because he clearly isn't dead, not anymore, at least. but other-universe tony looks like he's had the wind knocked out of him. "pete-"

peter deactivates his mask. "right?" he asks. other-universe tony frantically looks over his face.

"it's my fault." he says, softly. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry, pete. i'm-"

"come out of the suit."

other-universe tony pauses. "what?"

"come out here, please." peter asks again. other-universe tony does as he asks, stumbling out and immediately into the open and waiting arms of the baby spider. it seems to break him, the embrace; all at once he loses any trace of intimdation and anger and sobs, curling around the boy as much as he can. peter seems unphased, unlike the other heroes, and shushes him. "it's okay, mr. stark. it's not your fault," he murmurs soothingly, only reaching their ears due to the intercom on his suit. "it was never your fault. i chose this, i chose to come up there. i didn't regret it for a second."

other-universe tony heaves. "i was supposed to protect you. i failed. i failed and you're gone and you were so scared and i couldn't do anything-"

"you're wrong," peter soothes, and it's a weird image. the child comforting the adult. "if he was anything like me, then-" for a second, his eyes cut back to this-universe tony. "then he was glad you were there when he was dying. you made him feel safer. it would've been so much worse without you."

and then it all clicks for tony. this was a version of him from a world post-snap, who'd watched a kid he considered his own fade to dust in his arms. who sat in his own guilt, and shame, and loneliness. he knew the feeling all too well, and this tony had crossed dimensions to try and get his kid back in any way possible.

if it were for anyone but peter parker, this tony would've said it was a little dramatic.

he's sent home eventually, the other tony, after some more comforts and a not so subtle hint as to how they got everyone back after the snap, much to strange's dismay. later, real tony sits in the lab, watching peter from across a table, and he asks, "how'd you figure it out?"

"figure what out, mr. stark?"

"why that other me was here." peters looks up from whatever he's tinkering with. frowns.

"well, you invented time travel to get me back," he says. "why would you stop before dimension travel? it just made the most sense." tony has half a mind to argue, but one look at his lab: a midtown high hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a teenager's backpack in the corner, a seperated table with it's own organisational pattern and piles of blueprints, a report card pinned to a board, and a spiderman charm hanging from dum-e, he figures the kid is right.

"yeah, well, i love you a little too damn much then, don't i?" he doesn't think about the words before he says them. he's felt it for so long it feels like a second instinct.

luckily he gets no time to panic. because peter immediately lights up, says, "i love you too." and gets back to work.

damn kid.

#dont ask me when in canon this is set cos it isnt #irondad #spiderman #iron man #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #spiderman no way home #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson #spiderson #spider son #irondad angst #kinda #lol

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sage-green-matcha · 1 year

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NEIGHBOR - ETHAN LANDRY 🏙️

When Ethan can’t get enough of the girl next door!

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: SMUT! oral receiving !Fem, Ethan catching you! Switch Ethan kinda? A bit of praise!

A/n: wanted this to be longer but honestly had no energy to finish it :( but I rlly wanted to publish it anyways so here u go!

You sighed at the sound of loud music playing. It was just loud enough to be heard through the wall. Even if the song that was playing was from one of your favorite artists, you just wanted to sleep. You had a big Econ test that you couldn't afford to fail.

You picked yourself up lazily, blanket wrapped around you as you slipped on your loafers. You felt the cold touch your legs, shivering as you walked next door.

You knocked a couple of times, looking up to be met with a familiar face. "Oh uh, Y/n...what are you doing here?" Ethan Landry? You knew him from your Econ class, and also Chad's best friend. You two had been partners for projects a couple times, so to say he was a stranger would be a lie. "Oh uh, hey Ethan. I was wondering if you could turn down your music a bit? I'm trying to sleep" He gulped, feeling immediate guilt for disturbing your sleep.

"Oh, yea..yea! I'm sorry" "Thanks" you smiled. You walked back to your apartment, you didn't know he was your neighbor. You had been living in the small, New York apartment complex for about 6 months. And you hadn't seen him till now.

It was the same thing for the next couple of days, waking up at night to tell him he was being too loud or his music was making the wall shake. He always apologized, yet he never cared to change his volume before you went over to ask.

Ethan started doing it on purpose. He loved the way you looked when you had just rolled out of bed. It drove him crazy. Tired eyes with the prettiest sleepy voice. You would always wear a baggy teeshirt, no shorts underneath and just a blanket wrapped around you, bare legs.

You struggled to fall asleep, confused at the disappearance of the loud music you had been hearing for the past week. It felt strange but you shook it off, finally able to enjoy a full night's rest without any disruptions.

Or so you'd thought.

You groaned into your pillow as you heard a couple knocks on the door. It was a Friday, and you weren't expecting anyone to come over, especially not at 1 am. You dragged yourself out of bed, not caring about your slippers. You slipped out a yawn as you opened the door, this time Ethan at yours.

"Ethan...hey, what are you doing here?" You rubbed your eyes, the light from the hallway hurting them. "I got locked out of my apartment...I left my keys in class.." you frowned. "Oh no, did you call the landlord?" "He's in New Jersey?" his hands were in his sweats, small and worried frown on his face.

"Uhm, I guess you could stay with me for the night" his heart pumped out of his chest. That's exactly what he hoped you'd say. "Are you sure...? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything" You nodded. "Yea It's fine" you smiled, letting him inside. "Sorry to wake you up again" you shrugged. "Felt weird without your music anyways, I'm kinda getting used to it"

He put down his bag by the couch, watching you walk Into your bedroom to get blankets. He was more than excited. His plan had worked. He had his keys in his bag and had dressed in comfy clothes so he had no problem with having to change.

You plopped down the pile of blankets on the couch, tossing a pillow over to him. He watched as you laid out the blankets for him, placing the other pillow at the end of the couch. "Thanks" He smiled up at you. "No problem, if you want any snacks you can go in my pantry, Tara makes me stack up. And uh, there are drinks in the fridge"

"Thanks, for everything" "Stop thanking me, I'd want you to let me sleep over if I was locked out" you shrugged, turning around to go back to bed. "Night, Ethan" "Goodnight..."

But you weren't having a good night. Tossing in turning in your bed as you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Warmth gathered in your core and you rubbed your thighs against each other. You knew you couldn't do anything about it, especially not with a guest in the house.

But your pussy was hungry for touch, a pain filled you up. A pain that could only be relieved by touching yourself. You sighed with guilt as you stuck your hand into your panties, rubbing small circles against your sensitive bud. You bit your lip, holding back any small whimpers. You'd die before you'd let Ethan see you like this, yet again you probably wouldn't mind if he walked in on you.

Your movements got faster, a small sloppy moan coming from your mouth. You heard the couch creak, making you pause. "Y/n...you okay in there?" "I'm fine" you answered, melting into the mattress as you pulled out your hand. You were frustrated, almost close to your small orgasm. "You sure?" "I'm Good, Ethan" You heard his footsteps go back to where he originally was, putting your hand back into your panties.

This time you were careful not to make a noise. Only the sound of your wetness was barely heard under the sheets. Your mouth was deep into your pillow, shoving two of your fingers deep into your hole. Your walls tightened around your hand, dripping wet as you thrust your fingers into yourself.

Your mind was clouded, the feeling of your hand on your clit while the other was thrusting hard made you roll your eyes back. You were careful not to make any noise, a tie in your stomach forming. You were so so close, the possibility of getting caught turned you on even more.

What would Ethan think of you? That you're a slut? That you're gross? Or would he rip your legs open and help you out? You felt your legs shake as you pushed towards your orgasm. Frustrating and embarrassment filled you as you heard the door open. You couldn't care less though, you continued to fuck yourself as Ethan walked over.

"Y/n...what are you doing?" Ethan rubbed his eyes, staring at your position. "Oh..." he walked closer to the bed, your head still fucked out as you rubbed small circles against your clit. "You're so dirty..." a small scoff fell from his lips as he peeled the cover off of you, your hands covered in your juices.

"You're not very quiet Y/n" Every time he said your name you wanted to melt. It sounded so good rolling off his tongue. You continued to pump your fingers into yourself, biting your lip with your eyes closed as he watched. You felt so dirty, just like he said.

Your body heated up at his touch, his warm hand gripping your thigh. A whimper escaped your mouth as your movements slowed down, the tie in your stomach seconds away from snapping. "Don't stop, you can do it" his hands held onto your inner thigh, thumb gently rubbing on your skin.

"You look so pretty fucked out" his words shot straight to your core, legs shaking as you felt yourself release onto your fingers. "Wasn't that hard, was it?" Your chest raised with every breath you took, Ethan taking your cum covered fingers into his mouth.

Your breath hitched Ethan, staring into your eyes as he sucked your fingers, letting them out with a "pop" coming from his lips. You didn't think twice before you were on top of him, lips sucking with desperation as his hands ran up your shirt.

You knew this was wrong, but damn it felt so right. The way his hands perfectly grabbed your waist, lips fitting together like a puzzle. He let out a small groan as your knee slipped in between his legs. Feeling his hard boner on your skin.

You deepened the kiss, lowering yourself on top of him as you rubbed against his dick. He let out a small moan, your hands now pulling on the strings of his grey sweats.

"You're such a slut" You pulled away from the kiss, Ethan's lips on your neck. "Yet you're the one that was watching me" "And you're the one that kept going" you melted into him as he pressed down on your clit, still sensitive from earlier.

Your small, whiney sounds turned him on. Thrusting himself against your clit. "Don't be so desperate" you mumbled, your teeth sinking into his shoulder as he made friction. "I could say the same about you" he flipped the two of you over, pushing you up closer against the headboard.

He hovered over top of you, biting down on your lip as you looked up at him with eyes full of desire. You'd never looked as good as you did right there. "Can I go down on you?" You were slightly taken aback but nodded anyways. You had never had a guy ask you, you always had to ask them first. And they always insisted for something in return.

Ethan wasn't like that, he just wanted to pleasure you. Just getting to see your eyes roll back and your cum on his fingers would be enough for him.

He pampered small kisses against your jaw. They got sloppier as he moved down, marking you with his lips all the way to your waist. Ethan looked up at you with sweet eyes. He pulled down your panties, pulling apart your legs. You felt the cold air on your pussy, wetness covering your glistening core. You felt nervousness gather in your stomach, taking a deep breath.

He ran his fingers through your folds, jolting at the feel. You felt so vulnerable with him. He honestly had no idea what he was doing. He had seen it done once. Accidentally walking in on Chad and Tara one night. But besides that, absolutely clueless.

You sensed his confidence start to go down, taking small breaths. "You okay...?" "I uhm, yea...just not too sure how to do this" You just shook your head, smiling before sitting up. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to do anything" his face was soft, running your hand through his hair as he stared with his lips agape.

"No...no it's okay. I want to learn" "yea?" "Mhm," he chewed on his lip, staring back at you with doughy brown eyes. "Just do what feels right. And I'll tell you what feels good, alright?" He nodded, watching as you spread your legs open once again. He swore you were the prettiest person he'd ever seen. And to see you like this got him so flustered.

He ran his finger through your folds once again, collecting the extra cum from your hole. Your body shivered, craving more of his fingers on you. Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue flatten on your clit, biting back your lip as he stared at you.

"Keep going, good" he felt better as you praised him, doing tricks with his mouth on your pussy. His nails dug into the skin of your thighs, the pain proving you with more pleasure. Small whimpers and heavy breaths escaped from your mouth, Ethan lapping and sucking all over your core.

Your mind was cloudy, your back arching as you grabbed onto the bedsheets. "Please please please" Your hands dug into his hair, pushing his mouth closer to your pussy. His nose rubbed against your clit, his tongue deep in your hole. Your stomach pulsed, feeling hot all over your body.

"Fuck, E... I'm gonna cum" you hummed, feeling his fingers quicken on your sensitive clit. He hadn't even pushed his fingers into you and you were about to cum. The way he looked up at you made you moan, staring back through barely open eyes. Your legs wrapped tightly around his head, basically suffocating him with your thighs.

He pried your legs apart, shaking and weak as he continued to taste you. You tasted so sweet, the feeling of you on his tongue was addicting. He tried to rub himself against the bed, feeling the pain of his ignored boner get to him.

"Shit…shit" you bit back your bottom lip, body shaking as you felt cum drip from your pussy. Ethan's mouth was wide open, licking all of the cum up like your pussy was an ice cream cone. "Taste so good" You pushed his head away while he licked, too sensitive to continue.

He admired your sweaty face, watching as your chest rose with each heavy breath. "You okay...?" He asked, concerned. "Mhm," you hid your face in the pillow, Ethan coming back up to kiss you. "Was I okay?" You held back a smile, nodding at him.

Your lips connected once again, tasting yourself in his mouth. You got why he wanted more, pushing yourself closer to him. Heavy breaths filled the room, Ethan grabbing your waist before whispering something in your ear. “I didn’t actually…leave my keys” he chewed on his lip, watching as your eyebrows furrowed. “Really? Why’d you lie?” “For this”

You rolled your eyes before kissing him again, his cheeks a light pink as you pulled back. “Fucking creep” your lips formed into a smile, teasing him. “I’m not a creep” “You are, but you know what? It’s kinda hot”

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contemplatingoutlander · 9 months

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That the Editorial Board of the premier U.S. newspaper of record is finally warning about Donald Trump is significant. As such, this is a gift 🎁 link so that those who want to read the entire editorial can do so, even if they don't subscribe to The New York Times. Below are some excerpts:

As president, [Trump] wielded power carelessly and often cruelly and put his ego and his personal needs above the interests of his country. Now, as he campaigns again, his worst impulses remain as strong as ever — encouraging violence and lawlessness, exploiting fear and hate for political gain, undermining the rule of law and the Constitution, applauding dictators — and are escalating as he tries to regain power. He plots retribution, intent on eluding the institutional, legal and bureaucratic restraints that put limits on him in his first term. Our purpose at the start of the new year, therefore, is to sound a warning. Mr. Trump does not offer voters anything resembling a normal option of Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal, big government or small. He confronts America with a far more fateful choice: between the continuance of the United States as a nation dedicated to “the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity” and a man who has proudly shown open disdain for the law and the protections and ideals of the Constitution. [...] It is instructive in the aftermath of that administration to listen to the judgments of some of these officials on the president they served. John Kelly, a chief of staff to Mr. Trump, called him the “most flawed person I’ve ever met,” someone who could not understand why Americans admired those who sacrificed their lives in combat. Bill Barr, who served as attorney general, and Mark Esper, a former defense secretary, both said Mr. Trump repeatedly put his own interests over those of the country. Even the most loyal and conservative of them all, Vice President Mike Pence, who made the stand that helped provoke Mr. Trump and his followers to insurrection on Jan. 6, 2021, saw through the man: “On that day, President Trump also demanded that I choose between him and the Constitution,” he said.

[See more under the cut.]

There will not be people like these in the White House should Mr. Trump be re-elected. The former president has no interest in being restrained, and he has surrounded himself with people who want to institutionalize the MAGA doctrine. According to reporting by the Times reporters Maggie Haberman, Charlie Savage and Jonathan Swan, Mr. Trump and his ideological allies have been planning for a second Trump term for many months already. Under the name Project 2025, one coalition of right-wing organizations has produced a thick handbook and recruited thousands of potential appointees in preparation for an all-out assault on the structures of American government and the democratic institutions that acted as checks on Mr. Trump’s power. [...] Mr. Trump has made clear his conviction that only “losers” accept legal, institutional or even constitutional constraints. He has promised vengeance against his political opponents, whom he has called “vermin” and threatened with execution. This is particularly disturbing at a time of heightened concern about political violence, with threats increasing against elected officials of both parties. He has repeatedly demonstrated a deep disdain for the First Amendment and the basic principles of democracy, chief among them the right to freely express peaceful dissent from those in power without fear of retaliation, and he has made no secret of his readiness to expand the powers of the presidency, including the deployment of the military and the Justice Department, to have his way. [...] Re-electing Mr. Trump would present serious dangers to our Republic and to the world. This is a time not to sit out but instead to re-engage. We appeal to Americans to set aside their political differences, grievances and party affiliations and to contemplate — as families, as parishes, as councils and clubs and as individuals — the real magnitude of the choice they will make in November.

I encourage people to use the above gift link and read the entire article.

[edited]

#donald trump #warning #2024 election #editorial board #the new york times #gift link

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katebishopshands · 10 months

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could i request kate bishop x spidergirl!reader with mutual pining? maybe where R comes back from a mission badly hurt and they wind up confessing to each other

This is !! So !! Cute !!!

Love love love this idea !!!

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Caught in the Web

Kate Bishop/Spidergirl!Reader

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“Ah shit”

You could feel the blood from your nose leaking through your mask, smearing it all over your face. You just needed to get back to your apartment without being seen by the rest of New York and then you could rip the mask off and tend to your wounds.

It could’ve been worse, genuinely. A busted nose, split lip and a couple of bumps and bruises here and there. You had had worse. You recalled the time you had to explain to your parents as to how exactly you broke your arm. Or the time a building blew up behind you while fighting someone and you were covered in burns and scabs from head to toe. The countless concussions and black eyes. Accelerated healing could only do so much sometimes. Covering up your side gig as the cities friendly neighborhood spider girl was getting, difficult to say the least.

One of your webs connected with the wall of your apartment building and you sighed with relief. Relief was in sight as you landed on your fire escape. Your mind wandered to the phone you had left on your desk when you went out patrolling for the night.

Without a doubt there was probably a million missed texts and phonecalls. Plenty of them from Kate. Your sweet friend Kate, the girl you had been hopelessly in love with since you met her in a freshman year intro to creative writing class. She had sat down next to you and given you one of her famous million dollar smiles. And you have essentially be inseparable ever since. She was honestly the prettiest thing you had ever seen. Dark hair, crystalline blue eyes, full lips and lashes, and a million beauty marks decorating her face. You could’ve swore you could sit down and count them for days and never get bored. You missed her, you thought. You should call her once you get yourself cleaned up.

Gently opening your bedroom window, you entered quietly, not wanting to disturb your downstairs neighbors or anyone else you shared the fire escape with. After shutting the window just as quietly as you opened it you took a deep sigh before reaching for your mask, ready to relieve the uncomfortable sticky feeling of blood on your face.

The whizz of an arrow next to your head stopped your motions. Before it had even collided with the wall behind you, you had webbed the nearest heavy object into your hands. Some antique bookend that your mom had SWORN would come in handy at some point, and you guessed now she was right. You readied yourself, ready to put up a fight. Nothing was coming between you and the date you had with your bed.

Your bedside table light flicked on, revealing none other but Kate Bishop in her superhero get up, bow drawn and arrow pointed directly at your head. You swallowed nervously, knowing Kate had deadly aim with her bow.

“Kate?!” You were shocked at her standing in your bedroom.

“Who are you? “ she questioned you. She spoke in a register lower than her own, probably as some sort of intimidation tactic. Cute. You started to lower the bookend.

“Oh my god spidergirl knows my name..” she dropped her tough girl act for a moment, letting the excitement take over her face.

“Not the point, why are you in this apartment?” She questioned you again, taking a step towards you.

“Okay okay!!” You panicked a little. You set the bookend on your windowsill, your hands up in a surrender.

Deciding to rip the bandaid off as quick as possible, you reach for your mask, pulling it off in one swift tug. Your hair falls around your face, the loose bun you had it in sitting limply on your neck. You sniff slightly.

Kate’s bow clatters to the ground, the arrow she had loaded rolling to your wall . Her mouth hangs slightly agape.

“Oh my god-“ she begins to pace your room, her hands going up to tug at her hair.

“Oh my fucking god”

“-Kate” you go to comfort her

“You’re fucking spider girl??” She looks at you frantically , eyes searching your face.

You put your hands on her arms, holding her still as she looked over you. Her thumb goes to the drying blood that’s below your nose and smeared on your lips.

“You’re spider girl and you’re..you’re hurt” she goes to touch your split brow, you wince slightly. A blush creeping on your cheeks as she runs her fingers over the other injuries in your face. You’ve never seen this look on her face. Her brows are scrunched together, a pretty pout on her lips. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve sworn she was sad.

“Kate I can explain everything I just-“

“Sit down, I need your peroxide”

“Kate can’t we just talk for a minute?”

“Sit” she commands, and you obey. You sit on your bed, hands folded awkwardly in your lap as Kate leaves for your bathroom to go find your first aid supplies.

“Why uh..why were you in my apartment…in the dark?” You ask her. You can hear rummaging around the cabinet. You begin to take your hair out of the bun, slowly working the knots out with your fingers.

“You hadn’t responded to my calls…I got worried”

“So you broke into my house?” You scoff.

Kate appears from the bathroom, an array of first aid supplies in her hands.

“It technically wasn’t breaking in. There’s a key under your mat” she sits on your bed, spreading everything across the quilt. She ends the conversation at that, beginning on cleaning your face, freeing it of the now dry and itchy blood that was caked on your face and lips.

She’s so pretty. Your hands begin to clam up and your heart rate escalates. If you didn’t know any better you’d think she can hear it from outside your body. She continues her first aid. Swiping ointment on your cuts and applying bandages.

“Where’d you learn how to do first aid?” You question, watching her work.

“Clint, he told me I did a shit job the first time I did it myself” she chuckles slightly to herself . You should’ve known.

When you had met Kate she was nothing but a pretty girl archery captain who had dreams of becoming an Avenger. But a lot had changed since then and she was now almost there, becoming the protégé of the world famous Hawkeye. According to Kate’s calculations she thinks Clint is “ready to pass down the title”.

“And that should do it for the face, take your suit off and I’ll do the rest” Kate’s worried. You can see it in her eyes. Normally not one for serious conversations, now thrust into something that was life altering.

You reach for the clasps of your suit, only stopping for a moment when you think about the situation at hand.

“Kate I’m sorry for keeping this from you” you feel bad. Kate had been so open and honest with her superhero journey, so why hadn’t you?

“How long..how long have you been Yknow..a superhero?” Kate avoids your eyes. It crushes you a little.

“Um, about a year?” You cringe hearing it come out of your mouth.

Kate hits you. You wince.

“A whole year? Are you kidding me?? Oh my god” she blows up on you.

“A whole year and you didn’t tell me you’re Spider Girl?” She puts her hands on your thighs , you tense up at her touch.

“I didn’t want to steal your thunder! You had Clint, and the Ronan and the Rockefeller tree! You had a huge couple months!” It was true. Kate did have the biggest couple months of her life, and what kind of friend would you be if you made it all about yourself.

“Yeah but then..that means you were going through all of this..” Kate gestures to your predicament, “by yourself..”

Tears well up in your eyes for a minute.

“I just wanted to keep you safe, I couldn’t live with myself knowing you got hurt because of who I am”

They’re rolling freely now, Kate reaches a hand to wipe them.

“You’re an idiot” she half laughs half cries.

“I know I am” you say laughing with her, and leaning into her touch. It’s welcomed.

“I literally put on a ninja suit and saved a dog on live television and almost died I don’t know how many times, trust me I get hurt enough just being me”

You both laugh at that. She was right, she had done some stupid things in the time

Kate keeps her hand on your cheek as you both sit. Nothing but you, her, and the sound of the cars on the street below your apartment. She’s looking at you with something in her eye, something you haven’t seen before.

Observing your eyes and lips, your eyebrows and the cuts that she mended just moments ago. Kate takes her hand off of your cheeks and leans back slightly.

“I think I’m in love with you?” She says, almost as a realization to herself. She gives a giant sigh as the words leave her mouth, like she’s been holding onto them for who knows how long.

“And I- I want to be there for you when you’re hurt, and fix your cuts and ice your black eyes and I never want secrets between us again.” She’s rambling at this point, fidgeting with her fingers. She’s back to holding her breath.

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, not able to understand if this is a dream or real life. Maybe you had gotten thrown into a wall a little TOO hard during your fight.

Kate’s eyes flick up to yours nervously. Watery blue eyes meeting yours. She bounces her leg off the bed. You take her hands into yours.

“I would..like that a lot” you smile at her.

“Really?” She swallows nervously. You nod your head at her.

Kate nearly tackles you as she lurches accross the bed, kissing you.

Kate Bishop is kissing you. The girl who lent you her fun stationary when your forgot yours in class. The girl who you had spent hours up in her apartment working on the world’s worst projects and presentations. The girl who you nervously watched on TV whenever she was on some crazy Avengers business.

You sigh into her, kissing her back. She tastes like whatever energy drink she had had earlier to give her as much energy as she had in the moment. Kate pulls away, laying on top of you.

“I think this could really work..you and me?” She’s giddy now.

“I think so too” you say tucking a loose strand of hair from her ponytail behind her ear. Kate inspects you again, playing with your hair . She’s smiling slightly, biting her lip as she looks down at you.

“So how does it work..Yknow..the web thing?” She’s sitting up, grabbing at your hands.

“Oh my god we’re dating for not even a minute and you’re already asking about my most personal secrets” you feign annoyance as Kate giggles at you a little.

“What can I say, I have a thirst for knowledge….girlfriend” she smiles proudly as she says the word ‘girlfriend’.

“Whatever you say…girlfriend” you grin back at her.

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The is was SO much fun to write!!! I hope I did your request justice!! Send me more requests and questions I love the ideas you guys have!!

#hawkeye series #hawkeye show #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #marvel #mcu #kate bishop hawkeye #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop fic #kate bishop mcu #kate bishop x y/n

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undying-love · 6 months

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Everything that Paul and John's ex-girlfriends/wives have said about them

Cynthia

"John and Paul always had a special link between them, a chemistry that added to the heat."

Linda

"I was just some chick from New York when I walked into all of that. God, if I’d known what I know now…All I could do was sit there watching them [John and Paul] play these games.”

"They loved each other… they were friends, and it was deeper than any of us will ever know".

Yoko

"He [John] did put it that way, he was 'riding on the boat called Paul, and now I'm going to ride on a boat called Yoko." "I knew there was something going on there. From his [John] point of view, not from Paul’s. And he was so angry at Paul, I couldn’t help wondering what it was really about." "I’m sure that if he [Paul] had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul." "I’m sure that in the case of Paul there’s that feeling that I’m the woman who took away his partner – it’s like a divorce." “I think it was like he was married to Paul. And now he was married to me so it was like a situation that he didn’t feel like he wanted to go back."

Jane

“When I came back after five months, Paul had changed so much. He was on LSD which I hadn’t shared. I was jealous of the spiritual experiences he’d had with John”. She told Ray Connolly that "to Paul, his relationship with John was more important than his relationship with her".

Peggy Lipton

"John didn't like me being there at ALL. He was mean and sarcastic [...] I got the idea that he thought Paul was an idiot to take a girl so seriously he'd actually invite her to dinner, when all he really needed to do was fuck her AFTER dinner."

Francie

"I have no doubt Paul loved John deeply. But as I said on the Westwood One show, he is twice widowed now. His two great loves [John and Linda] are gone." "He wasn't happy. But the big things that were driving him mad were beyond me. He kept on working and writing, but when John came over, all he could talk about was how much he loved Yoko. That disturbed Paul." "That Paul started painting after John's death is no coincidence. That competition, the clash, the ebb and flow of *that* relationship, was so central to Paul's being, the only love that comes close to being a reasonable comparison is his marriage to Linda and the births of his children." "Please remember, Jane Asher was his first great love (after Lennon)." "For a reason to hold a grudge, think about the possibility of this: She [Yoko] took John from him. And she didn't particularly want to share John with his "ex significant other" on certain levels." "Paul hates Yoko for stealing the love of his life away from him. No, not Linda.... John! Paul has never forgiven her for that." "When John and Paul split up (think of them as a couple for a moment) their second mates had to stand by them."

Dot

"Paul hated Stu. It's true that Paul had his eye on Stu's bass, but in fact, he was jealous of Stu, especially of Stu's friendship with John. What's more, Stuart flaunted it. Time and again, he put it under Paul's nose and gave it a scornful swish."

Maggie

“They would bounce off each other. Their perceptions were different. Paul was softer and John sharper but they could change roles. They were so intertwined and so tight on so many different levels."

#mclennon #wives and exgirlfriends #interesting #they were really telling us something

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feminismisstillahatemovement · 7 months

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In 2017 I interviewed Bernadette Wren, then head of psychology at the Tavistock Gids clinic, and asked what effect puberty blocking drugs have on the adolescent brain. Looking highly uncomfortable, she replied that the evidence so far was only anecdotal but that the clinic would study its patients “well into their adult lives so that we can see”.

Even back then, before whistleblowers had exposed the rush to medically transition children, it was alarming to hear that heavy-duty GnRH agonists such as triptorelin — used to treat advanced prostate cancer and “chemically castrate” sex offenders — were being prescribed to arrest puberty in hundreds of children as young as 11.

Moreover, they were being used “off-label” before any clinical trials. And the long-term study Wren promised never materialised: Gids (the Gender Identity Development Service) routinely lost touch with patients, and the 44 it did follow reported little long-term mental health improvement.

This shocking chapter in medical history, where the ideological objectives of trans rights campaigners trumped the welfare of disturbed children, is coming to an end worldwide. The decision by NHS England effectively to ban the prescription of puberty blockers comes after the Cass review noted these drugs could “permanently disrupt” brain development, reduce bone density and lock children into a regime of cross-sex hormones requiring life-long patienthood.

NHS England unites with other national health services including those in Finland, France, Sweden and, most notably, the Netherlands — where the “Dutch protocol”, a regime of early blockers then hormones, was devised in 1998 — in pulling back from prescribing them.

Even in the United States, where a toxic combination of extreme activism and medical capitalism has pushed child gender medicine to grotesque extremes, with double mastectomies performed on 14-year-old girls, there is some retrenchment.

Leaks from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the body which formulates guidance on “trans healthcare”, reveal doctors perplexed at how they should explain to an 11-year-old child that drugs will render them infertile. Crucially, liberal media such as The New York Times are now reporting grave medical misgivings about child transition, once dismissed as a culture-war issue for the Republican right.

Yet the question remains: how was this ever allowed to happen? For years, puberty blockers were cheerily billed as a mere “pause button”. In 2014, Dr Polly Carmichael, the last head of Gids before the Cass review ordered its closure, went on CBBC in a show called I Am Leo, saying of blockers: “The good thing is, if you stop the injections, it’s like pressing ‘start’ and the body carries on developing as it would if you hadn’t started.”

The BBC permitted her to make this unevidenced claim to an impressionable audience of six to 12-year-olds. Imagine hearing this as a developing girl, freaked out by your new breasts and periods. No wonder Gids referrals subsequently rocketed.

Carmichael failed to mention that she did not know if pressing “restart” on puberty is always medically possible — it is not — and in fact, almost every child Gids put on blockers went on to irreversible cross-sex hormones.

After years in a Peter Pan state while their peers developed, they understandably felt there was no way back and forged on with treatment. Yet if allowed to experience natural puberty, almost 85 per cent of gender dysphoria cases resolve themselves.

Nor did Carmichael tell CBBC kids that the blockers-hormones combination, if taken early enough, not only results in sterility but kills the libido so that a young person will never experience an orgasm.

At the 2020 judicial review brought by a former Tavistock clinician and Keira Bell, the brave young detransitioner rushed onto hormones by Gids, judges expressed astonishment at Gids’s lack of an evidence base.

Reporting on this issue for seven years, I too have been struck by a complete clinical incuriosity. Not only was data not collected, but those who queried treatments or pressed for evidence faced angry condemnation. Perhaps activists knew what research might find because one long-term Finnish study, recently reported in the BMJ, destroyed the myth used to justify blockers: that a child will commit suicide if denied them.

The Finns found that “gender-affirming care” does not make a dysphoric child less suicidal. Rather, such children had the same suicide risk as others with severe psychiatric issues. In other words, changing bodies does not fix troubled minds.

Yet even after NHS England’s announcement, activists refuse to heed the now-overwhelming evidence. In its response, Stonewall persists with the myth that puberty blockers “give a young person extra time to evaluate their next steps”.

Many questions remain unanswered: will private clinics still be permitted to prescribe puberty blockers; and is Scotland’s Sandyford child gender clinic still determined to close its ears to all evidence? Plus, we have few details on how the NHS’s new “holistic” treatment for gender-questioning children will operate when it opens next month.

This repellent experiment — in which girls who like trucks or little boys who dress as princesses, and who invariably grow up to be gay, are corralled inexorably down a road towards life-changing treatments — belongs in the book of medical disgraces. As do the cheerleaders who raised money for Mermaids and those who persecuted whistleblowers or damned journalists asking questions as transphobic.

In 50 years, chemically freezing the puberty of healthy children with troubled minds will be regarded with the same horrified fascination as lobotomies — which, never forget, won the Portuguese neurologist Antonio Egas Moniz the 1949 Nobel prize.

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{Article source (behind paywall)}

#i think it's going to be a lot sooner than 50 years tbh

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covid-safer-hotties · 2 months

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“You may now become who you thought was disposable”: COVID-19 Politics and Ableism - Published July 4, 2024

Unpaywalled link available in the link to our archive! A taste below!

“You may now become who you thought was disposable”: COVID-19 Politics and Ableism Andrea Kitta Journal of American Folklore, Volume 137, Number 545, Summer 2024, pp. 321-330 (Article) Published by American Folklore Society For additional information about this article muse.jhu.edu/article/931461[37.228.238.33] Project MUSE (2024-07-09 12:59 GMT) American Folklore Society

This essay critically examines the intersection of COVID-19, Long COVID, ableism, and health care disparities in the United States, emphasizing the transformative impact of COVID-19 as a mass disabling event with a disproportionate impact on marginalized communities. I also bring an autoethnographic lens to my experi- ence of COVID-19 and Long COVID, underscoring the importance of recognizing the diverse and often untellable experiences of individuals with disabilities and challenging the prevailing ableist perspectives embedded in society. I raise ethical considerations of storytelling in the context of Long COVID and urge researchers to embrace empathy and a more inclusive approach that challenges traditional notions of objectivity and distancing within academic research. I call for a collaborative approach between disability studies and folklore studies, encouraging scholars to interrogate and explore the traditions shaped by experiences of disability.

On December 13, 2020, disability advocate Imani Barbarin created a TikTok where she stated in the caption: “COVID is a mass disabling event. Things will never be the same. Never. You may now become who you thought was disposable” (Barbarin 2020). Barbarin was not overstating what is happening in the United States. In addition to the overwhelming number of US-based COVID-19 deaths (1.07 million as of November 1, 2022, according to the New York Times COVID-19 Tracker [New York Times 2023]), there is also an alarming number of cases of post-acute sequelae SARS-CoV-2 infection (PASC) or, as it’s more commonly known, Long COVID. Long COVID happens in anywhere from 5 percent to 50 percent of COVID-19 infections (although most medical experts agree the rate of Long COVID is somewhere around 20–30 percent of all infections). Long COVID affects women at a 22 percent higher rate than men (Sylvester et al. 2022:1391), and one study of Long COVID listed over 200 symptoms (Davis et al. 2021). The most common symptoms are fatigue, shortness of breath, cough, chest pain, brain fog, sleep disturbances, depression, joint pain, and dysautonomia (a dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system that typically presents as the inability to control temperature, breathing issues, and other things the body normally controls automatically).

Current estimates of those affected by Long COVID in the United States are between twenty and forty million. COVID-19 has also been shown to reactivate other viruses (Gold et al. 2021; Chen et al. 2022; Su et al. 2022), and one current theory is that Long COVID is the result of the COVID-19 virus continually being reactivated in the body (Klein et al. 2022). The latest research out of Yale University shows that COVID-19 cases entail cellular changes to the B and T cells, lower levels of cortisol, and that the virus can reactivate other viruses (Su et al. 2022:891–2). A recent study with more than 154,068 participants showed that “in the post-acute phase of COVID-19, there was increased risk of an array of incident neurologic sequelae including ischemic and hemorrhagic stroke, cognition and memory disorders, peripheral nervous system disorders, episodic disorders (for example, migraine and seizures), extrapyramidal and movement disorders, men tal health disorders, musculoskeletal disorders, sensory disorders, Guillain–Barré syndrome, and encephalitis or encephalopathy” (Xu, Xie, and Al-Aly 2022:2406).

Both COVID-19 and Long COVID exposed inequities in the US health care system, with Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) populations dying from COVID-19 at much higher rates than White people at the beginning of the pandemic. Compared to White people, Alaskan Indian or Alaskan Natives died at 2.1 times the rate, Black people at 1.7 times the rate, Hispanic or Latinx people at 1.8 the rate, and Asian Americans at 0.8 times the rate (CDC 2023). According to the Washington Post’s analysis of CDC’s statistics, the rate of White people dying from COVID-19 became equal to the rate of other groups beginning in October 2021, then (except for the Omicron wave) increased, primarily due to White people being unvaccinated. Strangely enough, the equalizing trend wasn’t because death rates dropped for BIPOC people, but rather was due to the rise of the White death rate. Tasleem Padamsee, Assistant Professor at The Ohio State University who researched vaccine use and who is a member of the Ohio Department of Health’s work group on health equity, stated: “Usually, when we say a health disparity is disappearing, what we mean is that . . . the worse-off group is getting better. . . . We don’t usually mean that the group that had a systematic advantage got worse” (quoted in Johnson and Keating 2022).

Additionally, at the time of this writing in Spring 2023, the pandemic has been declared as “over” despite the fact that around 400 people are still dying per day in the United States and that those dying tend to be people with disabilities and the elderly (New York Times 2023). It’s difficult to imagine a situation where 400 deaths a day are deemed acceptable, yet here we are. Many people are desperate to “get back to normal” and seem to care more about going maskless or dining indoors than they do about those who are dying of COVID-19. Those who are unvaccinated and unmasked also seem to not understand (or not care) that the longer they continue on that path, the longer the pandemic will take to dissipate. Simply put, the majority of people do not seem to care about people with disabilities, including those who are immunocompromised, and their increased health risks due to the pandemic.

People with disabilities are an unrecognized health disparity population, and they died at much higher rates during COVID-19 (Krahn, Walker, and Correa-de-Araujo 2015). The National Council on Disability found that 181,000 people with disabilities in long-term care facilities died from COVID-19 in the first year of the pandemic, making up one-third of COVID-19 deaths at that time (National Council of Disabilities 2021). The report is worth quoting at length.

In addition to disproportionate fatalities, key findings of the report include:

People with disabilities faced a high risk of being triaged out of COVID-19 treatment when hospital beds, supplies, and personnel were scarce; were denied the use of their personal ventilator devices after admission to a hospital; and at times, were denied the assistance of critical support persons during hospital stays. Informal and formal Crisis Standards of Care (CSC), pronouncements that guided the provision of scarce health care resources in surge situations, targeted people with certain disabilities for denial of care (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

Students with disabilities were denied necessary educational services and supports during the pandemic and have experienced disruption and regression in their behavioral and educational goals (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

The growing shortage of direct care workers in existence prior to the pandemic became worse during the pandemic. Many such workers, who are women of color earning less than a living wage and lacking health benefits, left their positions for fear of contracting and spreading the virus, leaving people with disabilities and their caregivers without aid and some at risk of losing their independence or being institutionalized (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

Deaf, Hard of Hearing, Deaf-Blind, and Blind persons faced a profound communication gulf as masks became commonplace, making lip-reading impossible and sign language harder (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

#disability justice #disability politics #covid pandemic #covidー19 #mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #coronavirus #wear a mask #sars cov 2 #still coviding #public health #wear a respirator #ableism #covid eugenics

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misserabella · 2 years

Note

what about reader and pedro have this close relationship but reader start distancing herself from pedro because he got date rumours with another actress who's older than the reader but pedro just wants to be in a relationship if it's with the reader (sorryyy english is not my first language

a/n; aw this is so cute :((( so angsty n fluffy <3

your phone rang once again as you were getting ready for the upcoming gala, your manager holding it for you and announcing the caller.

“it’s pedro pascal once again, what should i do?” she inquired you, and you shook your head. she instantly ignored the call, as she had done the last 15 times he had called that whole day. “you can’t keep doing this…, you two are great friends! did you have a discussion?”

you didn’t answer, opting for staying silent, because your heart was aching.

“how does that look? good enough?” your makeup artist smiled at you, and you took in your image on the mirror, bold red lips with dark eyeshadow and great fake eyelashes that made your eyes pop. the highlighter made your skin glow, and your perfectly applied base made it look flawless.

not good enough. it’s what you wanted to answer, ‘cause you weren’t as pretty as that woman in the news that pedro had been caught in a scandal with, you didn’t have her beautiful and perfect cheekbones, or amazing waist and hips.

but instead you smiled and nodded, winning a soft smile from your makeup artist. your hair was down and in beautiful waves that tickled the exposed skin of your back, your dress having an opening there that reached just above your lower back. your outfit for tonight’s gala was beautiful, a dior black and elegant dress that brought out all your most prominent curves and showed just the right amount of skin. you had paired it with lace long gloves and a pair of saint laurent heels that were really too painful to stand on for too long. but we all know what they said: beauty is pain.

“okay. let’s go.” your manager said, handing you your coat so the streets of new york wouldn’t freeze you to death at this hour.

“yeah.” you nodded, and tried to ignore the knot on your stomach, fully knowing you’d see pedro there. at the end, you two were the new starring stars on the most watched series of the season: last of us, along with bella ramsey of course. you knew a lot of people would come to the premiere, famous people, probably her as well.

your heels tickled on the floor as you made your way to your limousine, the leather underneath you warming you up. your phone buzzed. new message. pedro.

you sighed and put it aside, turning on do not disturb. twitter was going crazy, with this photos of this new woman under his arm making your stomach churn.

you shouldn’t feel like this. pedro was just a friend. you shouldn’t care about who he was dating, or if he even was dating at all. you should be happy for him. so why… why were you feeling like this? so bitter? so hurt?

the flashes hit your face and body, and as always, you smiled and waved once your manager had taken your jacket for you, even if the paparazzis were blinding you and making you go deaf with their screams. you didn’t want to smile, you didn’t want to pose, you didn’t want to be here. but you had to, so you’d decided that you’d do a quick greeting and chat for a little bit with other actors and stars and head back home early.

you just needed to try and not meet up with pedro for the next few hours. you could do that. there were so many people inside of there, posing in the red carpet, hugging each other and chatting up while drinking glasses of champagne that you thought it would be easy to hide from him.

you thought.

“there you are darling.” but as always you were wrong. “thought for a moment you were hiding for me there.” he smiled at the cameras, your skin growing on goosebumps when one of his warm and big hands found your exposed lower back, pulling you closer to his side. the paparazzi’s cameras were going crazy.

“pedro.” you sighed, trying really hard to not get lost in his touch, or in his eyes, or his cologne…

you were about to say something, probably come out with a lame excuse as why you had been ignoring him lately, but then you heard it.

“pedro! pedro! what can you tell us about that last scandal? are you perhaps now in a relationship?!”

your heart sank to your stomach, and your skin grew cold. you probably looked as white as a ghost.

“excuse me.” you smiled at him and the paparazzis, pulling away from his touch in need to run away from there. ‘cause you didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

your chest felt heavy, and your feet were fast.

would he smile and nod? say that he was now happily in love with somebody else?

you didn’t want to even imagine it.

“i need a fucking cigarette.” you muttered, taking from your purse your pack of cigarettes and heading to the bathrooms. you headed towards the most far away ones, those who were always free and silent.

the lighter flicked twice before the smoke was finally filling up your lungs. you let out a sigh. you knew it was shit. smoking. it was actually disgusting. but there was nothing that could help you more than another addiction to get over the one you already had: pedro pascal.

the cold of the bathroom tiles hit your back when you leaned against the wall, inhaling deeply, red smearing all over the bud of your cigarette.

you weren’t expecting company, but as always, you had to be surprised once again by him. only him.

the door opened with a creak, and your eyes shot open when they met his brown ones. fuck.

he looked at you, chest heaving harshly up and down as if he had been looking for you nonstop, running up and down every damn corridor just to find you.

“what have i done? what have i done to make you hate me this much?” he inquired, his voice just above a whisper. your heart broke. he looked broken too. you had done this?

“pedro…” you tried, but he was stepping inside the bathrooms and closing the door behind his back.

“no.” he shook his head. “tell me. tell me what have i done to make you not even be able to stand me being close to you.” his eyes fell as he saw your need to take a step back when he walked towards you. and maybe you would’ve, if you weren’t already cornered against the wall. “have i done anything to make you uncomfortable?” he inquired, and you felt your breath hitching, tears starting to sting your eyes. he thought it was his fault, that he was in the wrong. you were causing him pain just because your jealousy was too strong for you to handle.

“it’s nothing, pedro.” you tried and walk away, but his warm hands were once again on you, surrounding carefully your wrist to not let you go. you couldn’t help the way your heart jumped

“please sweetheart… talk to me…” he begged, and your tears shone under the lights when his other hand reached for your chin to make you look at him.

you took a deep breath in, trying your hardest to not give into his voice, nor touch… but it was too strong, your need for him, your love for him.

“do you love her?” you suddenly blurted out, and your stomach flipped. his eyes widened, his eyebrows furrowed. “that woman from the news… are you in love with her?” you muttered, your doe tearful eyes looking into his. your heart was screaming for him to not break him, your brain for him to confirm the rotten feeling that had been growing inside your chest. he cupped your face, about to talk but being cut off by your babbling once again. “she’s pretty. really pretty. and famous, and nice, and intelligent and has like a million of awards…” you smiled, even if your heart was falling apart and your eyes were about to spill tears.

“no baby, wait, you don’t understand…”

“i’m happy for you.” you muttered, taking his hands to pull them away from your face, even if the loss of his touch was making your soul break. lie and smile. “i’m sure you’ll be very happy, pedro.” you sighed, your heels clicking against the cold floor of that desolated bathroom as you headed towards the door, although his voice stopped you as you reached for the handle.

the door closed as you tried to open it, his palm firmly pressing against the door and the side of your head to keep it shut.

he inquired, and you bit down on your lip and tried to fight of your tears as he slowly turned you around to face him, caging you with his body against the wood of the door. he had never been this close. your chests were gracing, the mint of his breath hitting your face.

“is it really not obvious?” he inquired, and you frowned, your breath hitching when his free hand was back at softly holding your face. “it’s not her who i am in love with, i could never give my heart to another woman that doesn’t smile like you, or laugh as sweetly as you, or work as hard of you, or make my days seem as brighter as you do. i could never give my heart to another woman because i’ve already given it to you…” you eyes widened at his words, your chest heaving in deep breath.

he looked into your eyes, and then to your lips. he sighed. “am i reading this wrong, beautiful?” he inquired, scared, terrified of your shocked expression.

you quickly shook your head, your own hands cupping his face. “no pedro, not in the slightest.” you whispered against his lips before you pulled him against yours, butterflies filling your chest when you felt his left arm —the one that had stood keeping the door close— circled your waist and pulled you tighter against him.

the kiss was soft, slow, sweet… everything you’ve ever wanted. it was enough to make you melt.

but it was not enough, and you let him know with a whine when he pulled away.

“i know baby, i know.” he hushed you, leaving a soft peck on your now smudged lips. he had red lipstick all over his. “but there are a couple of paparazzis out there i have to clear up things with. perhaps the fact that it’s you who i’m in love with, in the first place.”

“maybe we could just show them.” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile as well, eyebrows raised.

“what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, huh?” he pinched your waist and you laughed, making his heart jump.

you hummed. “i’ll have to kiss you a little bit more for you to get the idea.” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his neck, staining the perfect kiss mark.

he laughed, hiding the shiver that went up his spine.

“you’ll be the death of me.”

—

i imagine pedro coming back to the gala with his whole face decorated in kisses and being impossibly happy about it

a/n; i hope you liked it<3

#lily!writes ੭୧—☆#pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal actor #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal x y/n

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readerwithsalt · 1 year

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I think Hazel should’ve gone with Nico instead down to Tartarus. Without a prophecy or quest bc Nico and Hazel don’t play by the rule book.

Then we could’ve gotten an adorable underworld sibling bonding book with both of them hilariously being unaware of modern stuff. And telling each other stuff they’ve learned.

They ditch both of their boyfriends who are freaking out because they don’t know where they snuck off to. And since Nico said in HoH that when he and Hazel shared power that anything felt possible, they truly believe they can succeed.

(Also Hazel understands death and wouldn’t be complaining every five seconds like Will was. Maybe it would’ve been more original and less percabeth 2.0 (but worse)

It begins with Nico leaving Camp Jupiter, having visited Hazel (for what he believes could be the last time) and telling Will he would be back in a week or so. A lie Nico tells to keep his boyfriend from coming after him to Tartarus (way more in character of him lol) as he believes a child of Apollo would easily be snuffed out down there.

Nico realizes he’s throwing a good possible future away by sneaking out to do this, but the nightmares have become so twisted and unbearably disturbing that he fears he’s going to lose his mind either way if he doesn’t manage to find the person calling out his name every night.

He also doesn’t like when others are left behind.

Since Will has insisted Nico not use shadowtravel to get back to New York from California, Nico says he’s going to take the train instead.

But Hazel KNOWS someone is off. Knows Nico is hiding something. Something that causes her brothers eyes to tinge red when he hugs her, gives her a wobbly goodbye, and squeezes just a bit too tight. Something that causes the paper thin smile he gives her when she sees him off to board his train.

Something that inexplicably makes her sneak onto that train behind him.

Upon Nico putting his stuff away in the closet of his train compartment and finding a head of cinnamon brown curls say ‘ouch’ when he accidentally throws his suitcase on top of a stowaway sister, being mad is a bit of an understatement…

When Hazel knowingly questions why he’s so upset at her, Nico suddenly has no words.

They eat in the trains dining room, Chinese noodles with strangely large fortune cookies that they save for later.

Hazel doesn’t manage to get anything out of Nico as they sit side by side next to a window, watching the world whoosh by and making idle chatter that Nico only seems to be half heartedly replying to. Seeing her brothers zoned out gaze, thin hands shaking slightly, the ever present tinge of red and fear ringing his large dark eyes, Hazel knows this is something more than wrong.

If the bravest demigod she’s ever met looks this terrified, to her it can only mean one thing.

Her suspicion is proven correct when her and Nico crack open their fortune cookies from dinner and instead of a thin piece of white with a generic quote on the paper… two small black parchments with gold lettering come out instead.

Two warnings. From what god? They don’t know.

Hazel’s questioning dies on her tongue when she sees the thin lines of tears falling from her brothers eyes. She doesn’t ask him anything else that night, just wraps a hug around him as frail shoulders shake in her arms.

The next day Nico acts as if nothing happened and asks her if frank knows she’s okay which she sheepishly replies that he probably doesn’t even know where she is. Nico says the same about Will, and they decide to not tell their current boyfriends anything yet.

Yet…. After the incident of last night and the fortune cookie parchment mentioning a place that hazel has definitely heard of before, she knows exactly what Nico is planning.

And she’s not letting anything happen to him as long as she’s alive. Even if Nico insists on pretending Hazel doesn’t know anything.

After the long train ride and Nico questioning this one random passenger for an hour about the strange gaming device in his hands (a Nintendo lol) and the siblings chatting about mundane things happening in their camps; they finally are in Manhattan.

Hazel is now done with letting Nico pretend.

Before she can get a word out the word ‘No’ has already passed her brothers lips. They fight. Their first actual fight ever. One that ends in sobs wrecking through Nicos body and pangs of guilt, sadness, and anger piercing Hazels heart.

But one thing rises above them all:

Protectiveness.

After making up and Nico realizing Hazels not ever going to back down given the look in her eyes, he realizes he doesn’t have a say in this. She is coming with him whether he likes it or not. Fear plummets in his stomach.

After a trip to Target for food and supplies for the trip that neither of them currently want to think about because what they are planning to do is… insane. Literally insane. But as Nico remembers that feeling of the time he and Hazel shared their power that one time, a thread of hope starts to weave in his heart. Psychotic hope, but still hope nonetheless.

They shadowtravel to Central Park, Nico not feeling nearly as woozy with Hazels help. He also delightfully finds out that coffee seems to cure the fatigue from using that side of his powers lol.

They manage to open the doors of Orpheus’ by ‘borrowing’ a guys phone as they see him jog by, and play some random song called ‘into the dark’ (by death cab for cuties lol) from the guys playlist holding it up to the opening.

The song sounds like another warning. They both ignore it.

They travel down dark steps, hands clasped. They talk in the quiet empty smelling air, comfortable in the underground silence. Until faint light hits their faces. The ever constant line of fresh souls lead them to Charons boat where they are taken to the land of the dead.

They now must avoid detection from their father at all costs. Nicos not worried about Charon tattling on them to Hades since he doesn’t get paid enough anyway (lol). Nico takes Hazel to meet the trogs new home down in the underworld (one thing I liked in tsats).

Hazel adores them and their funny outfits.

The trogs tell Nico that his ‘really deep tunnel’ he requested they dig is almost done, and Hazel is hurt that Nicos been planning this so long without telling her or anybody. They make Nico and Hazel spend the night with them before they go and they play with the baby trogs and dance together, trying to forget what they’re going to do tomorrow. They fall asleep to the sound of baby trogs giggling next to them.

The next day Nico attempts to sneak away from Hazel one more time and Hazel explodes at him. Anger making her say some things she doesn’t want to and Nico apologizing profusely but saying he’s angry at himself for allowing her to come with him.

They are interrupted by the trogs leader saying the Tunnel Into the Dark is finished. They can feel the intense suction of The Pit even from several feet away. Memories of the first time Nico was sucked down threaten to spill over and embarrassingly makes him want to run and hide somewhere.

But he feels Hazels hand in his and that strange, wonderful feeling of intense power. And love. And then they are straddling a boat the trogs pull from the river of forgotten dreams (the Styx I think) and with one final push… they are falling.

On the boat it feels like they’re floating.

They fall for a very long time. But Nico notices it’s not as long as the first time. Or maybe it doesn’t feel that long bc someone is here beside him.

They use their shared geokinisis powers to make an enormous slide of bones, black dirt, and stone.

When the boat hits the ground Nico almost gets flung face first into the Phlegethon river. They drink from it and begin the search.

They devastatingly find out the voice was never Bob bc Bob was absorbed into tartarus’s breastplate (like in actual canon HoH) but that it was something else entirely.

Something that makes Nico perhaps the angriest he’s ever been.

They find Jason’s soul down there. Something that shocks both Nico and Hazel to the core. Nico thinks it’s a trick but soon can tell that the soul that is looking at him so coldly and unfamiliar is actually Jason.

A different Jason. One with hatred illuminating every thread of his form.

That’s why Nico didn’t know where Jason’s spirit had gone. It had been intercepted by something and Jason has turned into a mania like his mother. A spirit that fumes on hatred and forgotten dreams. The one thing he never wanted to be.

Nico cries over the horrid inevitable fate of Bob and promises that he will ALWAYS be remembered. He doesn’t have much time to think on this though because right now a livid son of Jupiter is rising higher and higher above Nico and Hazel, the threat is obvious.

In Jason’s manic state he blames Nico for not checking on him and seeing that he got a peaceful afterlife and greives the fact that Piper and Leo and Nico ‘never bothered’ to attend his funeral. He blames the gods, his father especially, for being unworthy of their demigod children. He blames the underworlds justice system not following up on his missing soul and dismissing his entire life as if it was nothing.

As if he was never a hero. Never anything at all.

Nicos is crushed, but realizes that Jason’s being manipulated by something. A dream demon that wanted to trap Nico the entire time in order to consume his energy/power and shadow travel out of his prison and into the mortal world bc it would’ve taken him years to get out otherwise.

The dream demon used its powers to intercept Jason’s soul thanks to Caligulas cursed blade that had killed him, and reached inside his mind to find out about Nico and figure out the best way to get Nico to come back to his worst nightmare.

And now that Hazel and Nico are both there that’s double the power to consume.

Turns out the entire thing was simply about a selfish monster playing with demigods. A tale as old as the beginning of mythology.

The demon taunts them saying he used Jason - son of the King of the Gods - as a little toy in order to easily bring his meal to him. Remarking how easy and quick it was to bait someone like Nico.

Someone who can never leave someone behind.

And Hazel, how easy it was to get her to follow her brother. Taunting that she’s just as stupid, gullible, and selfless…

The children of the underworld snap.

And all Hades breaks loose. Signaling to every monster within a 100 mile radius to know exactly where they are.

They battle together but the waves and waves of monsters is just too extreme. On the brink of inevitable death, a certain goddess appears.

The one who gave them the warnings in the form of fortune cookies. The one that sensed Nicos need for vengeance.

They escape with Nemesis help, but she wants something equally valuable in return for helping Nico and Hazel escape. Nico breaks down and agrees to relinquish all of his precious memories of Bianca and his past life in return for Hazel and a new possible future. A true balance in his heart.

Choosing Hazel over memories of Bianca makes Hazel cry and they bond stronger.

Strangely enough Nico becomes happier without the constant grief of his older sister on his shoulder.

In a way choosing to let her go the same way she did when she chose to be with the hunters.

And then once again when she chose reincarnation.

They still have to worry about Jason though who is constantly causing blood thunderstorms across Tartarus’s sky and wrecking havoc all over the place.

(Also it would be so funny to see Jason literally just… chase Nico and Hazel all over the place… flying after them screaming while they run for their lives bc they can’t see or hear due to the bloodstorm & huge booms of thunder and shit lol.)

Hazel manages to trap Jason in a kaleidoscope of his own storm and shadow with her mist magic and her and Nico manage to shadowtravel him to the ghostly boat that will lead them out. She lets him out but he’s struggling so much in his metal binds that Nico has to knock him out with a punch to the face bc he’s the only one that can touch ghosts.

They ferry up the river Acheron out of Tartarus and chat about what the fuck just happened down there.

Hades awaits them when they arrive.

He’s very angered that his two only living children disobeyed his strict order of not going down there, but relinquishes it eventually when he realizes how tired and beat up his kids look and praises them instead. Hades turns to Nico and states that his older sister would be proud of him. Which Nico replies with confusion saying he doesn’t have an older sister which saddens hades as he figures out what Nico had to give away.

He offers them both something they want.

Anything.

Hazel wishes for Jason to be cured of his mania, and Nico wishes to give Jason back a chance at life. As he still had so much work to do for the gods and goddesses that did not have shrines and action figures to respect them.

Both of these things surprise hades but he grudgingly does so (bc Jason is a son of Jupiter/zeus) saying that Nico and Hazel are indeed very special children.

Although Hades honors Nicos wish he can’t simply let a soul leave the underworld without a final test (hazel being the exception) and does something he did thousands of years ago with another hero begging for his wife’s soul back.

He tells Nico and Hazel they can lead Jason out of the underworld but only if they don’t look back at him. Across the fields of asphodel, across cerebus’ cavern, across the river styx, the journey on Charons boat, back up the many steps that lead to the mortal world…. If they look back once their friend is gone forever. Again…

They distract themselves with a deck of mythomagic cards Hazel stole from Frank (cause she wanted to know why her brother and boyfriend liked the game so much) much to Nico’s embarrassed delight. Nico’s so into explaining the game to Hazel, that the intense need to check if Jason’s still behind them dissipates a bit.

They only notice they’re outside when a wave of sunlight blinds them both and a large figure grabs them from behind.

Jason hugs the daylights out of Nico & Hazel crying like a little kid as months of memories of torment in Tartarus resurface into guilt.

Hades thinks it’s slightly amusing to see a tall muscular son of Jupiter being consoled by his two smaller children as he mentally watches the scene play out from his godly throne.

Nico says he kept the plans of the shrines Jason wanted to build and says maybe he can help with decorating (lol)

I’m gonna have to get an artist to draw a fancomic of this to heal my soul.

Also…. What the fuck did I just write?

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odilelajolie · 28 days

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Hunted, Ch. 2: Dream A Little Dream of Me (18+)

Alice misses Cooper. Cooper misses his little girl even more.

Perhaps she should have found it disturbing, just how quickly the mysterious man from Tuesday night seemed to consume her thoughts at every level of consciousness, from the hyperactive peaks of wakefulness all the way down to the quietest depths of slumber.

Call me Cooper.

He’d spent barely an hour at the diner, and yet he was all Alice could think about when she returned home to her tiny apartment well after midnight—giggling. And twirling. When she finally settled down enough to sleep after a long shower, she’d dreamt about him in a series of innocent, nonlinear fancies, all involving shamelessly basking in Cooper’s undivided attention. To be looked at by Cooper, to be talked to by Cooper—to have Cooper smile at her—was the kind of benevolent, life-affirming regard so bright and balmy it was like he was the sun beaming down on her bare skin. He was a knight in truly shining armor, rescuing her from the cold darkness of the lonely shadows she called home.

Alice couldn’t wait until she saw him again.

Excellent recommendation, sweetheart—

She replayed their short dialogue on a near endless loop as she ran errands the following day, blushing each time she returned to the moment he called her sweetheart. His deep, stimulating voice reverberated in her ears so powerfully she actually shivered in pleasure, right in the middle of the check-out line at the grocery store.

Alice was in such a good mood daydreaming about Cooper that she barely even noticed the hushed whispers of what the hell is wrong with her now? and looks like crazy girl is about to have another nervous fucking breakdown.

There were so many things she wished she’d asked him, and Alice promised herself that the next time he came into the diner, she would be brave and get to know him a bit better. Maybe she’d even personally treat him to his next meal as a thank-you. He’d left her a thirty-dollar tip on his twenty-dollar tab, and while Alice appreciated his generosity, she wanted to prove to him that his attention was infinitely more meaningful to her than his money.

But Wednesday came and went, followed by Thursday, with absolutely no sign of the captivating newcomer. He was nowhere to be seen around town, nor did he make any appearances at the diner. Alice waited on her tables like she always did—docile and silent, while pretending she was invisible—and as she gazed longingly at the door during those slow hours of emptiness before closing, she began to question if she ever would see him again.

By Friday night, Alice was anxious.

By Saturday night, Alice was crushed.

As she dejectedly restocked the beverage station next to the bar just after eleven, all hope of seeing Cooper walking through the door officially lost, Alice was forced to accept the strong possibility that she’d let her overactive imagination get carried away.

She was crazy, after all. And the whole town knew it.

Cooper was just a friendly tourist passing through, likely a hiker on his way to the nearby national forest given his obvious athleticism, and Alice had unhealthily clung to the idea of him out of sheer desperation for someone—anyone—to acknowledge her existence as more than just the town lunatic. A man as handsome and kind as Cooper probably even had a family waiting for him in one of the big cities, like Boston or New York or Philadelphia. He probably had a beautiful, perfect wife and beautiful, perfect children, and a myriad of beautiful, perfect friends.

One thing was certain—their short interaction had meant far more to Alice than it had meant to Cooper.

He’d likely already forgotten all about her the second he walked out the door on Tuesday—

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry, sweetheart?”

Startled by the intrusion, Alice jumped several feet back with a high shriek, but her heart rate instantly began to settle when her eyes finally landed on the very object of her inapt hopefulness.

“Hey…easy there, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cooper intoned tenderly, slowly raising his huge hands as if attempting to calm an untamed, fearful mare. Gesturing to his broad torso, he added, “I was just here the other night. Cooper. Don’t you remember me? I ordered the deluxe cheeseburger you recommended…”

For several seconds, Alice was paralyzed from her vocal box all the way to her feet, the gears in her mind stuck somewhere between humiliation and delight. But soon, her joy and relief at seeing Cooper again obliterated her sense of embarrassment—even her sense of shame—and it wasn’t long before she was grinning and nodding like a bobblehead.

“Of c-course I remember you!” Alice squeaked, dizzy with happiness. She was so excited she couldn’t remain still, her entire body vibrating as she reflexively shifted her weight onto her toes, down, and up again, almost as if she were back in a pair of pointe shoes. “H-Hi! You’re…you’re back!”

“Well I couldn’t stay away from my new favorite restaurant.” Cooper took a few languid steps closer and leaned against the bar counter. “Or my new favorite waitress.”

He winked at her, and Alice giggled, blushing so intensely she grew even more lightheaded from the sudden rush of blood circulating through her cheeks.

“I bet you say that to everyone who serves you,” Alice remarked sheepishly. Cooper shook his head, his dark gaze unblinking. “Just you, sweet girl.”

Alice’s heart fluttered.

She liked hearing him call her sweet girl even more than when he called her sweetheart.

“Am I too late to grab a bite?” Cooper prompted when Alice once more forgot her words, not to mention her job—too dazzled by the sight of him. “I tried to get here sooner, but work kind of got away from me.”

Alice moistened her lips and wiped her palms on her apron. “Absolutely—you can have any table you’d like!”

“Can I sit right here?” Cooper asked, already deftly easing his large body onto the nearest bar chair. “I know you can’t go behind the bar, but clearly you’re allowed to be next to it.”

Alice darted to the host stand for a menu and presented it to Cooper, and reached into her pocket for her notepad and pen. “Here is perfect. Do you know what you’d like to dri—”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You were just on the verge of tears,” Cooper clarified. “I called out to you when I walked in, but I don’t think you heard me. Is everything okay?”

Something…flickered in his impossibly dark eyes, like a shooting star reflecting upon still nighttime water.

Or perhaps a strike of lightning.

“I…umm…”

“You can tell me, Alice,” he murmured lowly. “You can tell me anything.”

Alice nervously shifted from side to side, but was spurred into action by his gentle words. His warmth.

“Umm…you’re going to think it’s stupid. Or crazy, probably—”

“Tell me.”

Before she could cower and hide in a last ditch attempt to preserve what little remained of her dignity, Cooper softly placed his hand on her chin, keeping her gaze focused on him in a gentle snare.

There was nowhere for her to escape.

“Tell me why you were about to cry.”

His voice, rich and dark and velvety smooth, seemed to settle over her body like a hypnotic, drugging her into suggestion with ease. Cooper was simply irresistible, and Alice found herself confessing the humiliating truth before she could even think to stop herself.

“I really missed you,” she whispered meekly. “People…people around here don’t like me very much—they think I’m…they think I’m…umm…weird—and you…you were so nice, and you talked to me…nobody talks to me, and…I was really hoping to see you again, but then you didn’t come back, and I wasn’t sure…oh God, what have I done…”

Alice took several slow steps backward, horrified with herself.

She sounded just as crazy as everyone said she was. More than crazy.

She sounded obsessed.

Cooper stared at her in silence, an inscrutable expression on his face. Alice rocked onto her heels, clutching her notepad for dear life as she anxiously waited for him to storm off and leave.

Or, perhaps even call the police.

Instead, he extended his long arm on a slow exhale and plucked her notepad and pen right out of her sweaty palm, and Alice’s jaw fell open as he rapidly wrote something onto the pad, and returned it to her.

“What…what is this?” Alice asked, dumbly.

“That’s my cell phone number,” Cooper answered with a smile before Alice could even process the meaning of the ten orderly digits in front of her. “So if you miss me, if you want to see me, or even if you just want to talk—all you have to do is tell me…and I’ll be right there for you, sweet girl.”

It was far easier tonight to persuade his sweet little Alice to abandon her side work entirely, and focus entirely on him. By keeping his distance this week after giving her a small taste of the attention she so desperately craved—thereby provoking the tender girl’s pronounced fear of abandonment—he’d succeeded in breaking down what minimal defenses she had left for protecting herself.

Her loneliness made her anxious, her anxiousness made her needy, and her neediness made her pliable—complete putty in his hands.

He wasn’t looking forward to repeating the behavior—he truly didn’t want his little girl to ever question just how much she meant to him—but it was a necessary manipulation, at least for now, to secure her devotion long-term.

Cooper needed to make an addict out of Alice, to make his pretty little girl depend on her Daddy just as much as he already depended on her—his sweet little narcotic. To guarantee Alice’s lasting attachment, he had to expose the innocent girl to what she wanted most, and then take it away, before giving it back to her in constant, progressively stronger doses until she was so blissed out on his love and adoration she’d never even think about looking elsewhere for her needs.

With her natural sweetness and excitability, Alice’s little side was undeniable, though the exact developmental stage she regressed to was a bit more difficult to determine. Regardless, Alice was a very…young eighteen, her highest education a GED, her worldliness limited to the boundaries of this forgotten New England town inhabited by only a few thousand people.

Soon, he would be her entire world—

“I had to make this myself—Ted is already closing down the kitchen, but I’ve made this before, I promise—all of the ingredients and portions are written down,” Alice said in a timid rush as she shakily placed his dinner order on the bar counter. “I really hope you like it.”

Alice’s laughable attempt at preparing a harvest salad was almost as unappetizing as the cheeseburger he’d ordered on Tuesday—and Cooper already had the low-bar bias of not only being a former fireman, but also a fugitive, more than accustomed to eating cheap garbage when pressed for time and circumstance. But his little girl had clearly tried so hard to make his dinner tonight, putting her best effort in a role that was unfamiliar to her, and Cooper would not crush her spirit with criticism.

He’d denied her—and himself, really—affection all week, which meant tonight was not a night for withholding.

Cooper would give his little girl all of the praise she craved, until they were both satisfied.

“Oh, this looks delicious, Alice,” Cooper complimented with enthusiasm. “And is that…wow! You added tri-tip, too? What a treat.”

The meat was much closer to well-done than Cooper would have preferred, but it looked edible enough.

“It normally comes with grilled chicken breast, but I thought you might enjoy the beef upgrade,” Alice replied brightly. “Since you’re…umm…you’re so…umm…so…”

Alice’s shyness, combined with her complete lack of a filter, was one of the most adorable things about her. When she felt comfortable enough to actually use her cute honeyed voice, his little girl said exactly what was on her mind.

“Since I’m what?” Cooper asked innocently. He could easily deduce just where her thoughts were headed, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Alice chewed her lower lip, her long eyelashes fluttering. “Since you’re…so…muscular. Big muscles like yours need lots of protein, right?”

It was the first outright commentary she’d made about his appearance, though he’d certainly followed the direction of her girlish gaze on his body when she thought she was being discreet. Alice may have been profoundly inexperienced, but she still had the hormones of an eighteen-year-old girl, which meant her nubile body was craving sex—whether she realized it or not.

Alice’s eyes widened and appeared slightly glassy as her gaze briefly slipped below his neck—was she looking at his pecs?—pupils dilating like a wobbly kitten on her first hunt.

Good girl.

Always keep those pretty eyes on Daddy—

“Well not just the protein—I need the veggies too,” Cooper said on a chuckle, startling the adorably distracted little girl. “It takes a lot more effort to stay fit at my age. My metabolism isn’t quite what it used to be.”

Cooper had been well aware of his physical appeal ever since he hit puberty, and had diligently maintained it ever since due to the fallacy of human nature to associate attractiveness with trustworthiness. Or even more laughably, safety. He may have been a monster, but that wasn’t what people saw when they looked at him. Instead, they saw height. A strong build. A symmetrical face.

And while Cooper was personally ambivalent about his looks, he fully intended to use any and every physical advantage in his arsenal in order to seduce Alice. She was already highly affected by him, her body language and nonverbal cues revealing far more than her words.

He was willing to bet that he could drop his voice, call her a good girl, and tell her to take off her panties and hop up on the counter so that he could bury his tongue in her sweet little cunt for dessert, and his timid little Alice would immediately obey.

Whether she truly wanted to or not.

“Umm…I was wondering…how old are you?” Alice asked as he speared a large serving of mixed greens, sweet potato, apple, and beef onto his fork. He took the bite and was relieved to find the salad tasted much better than it looked, but what he truly savored was the way Alice squirmed as she visibly second-guessed her question, wondering if she’d offended him.

Cooper swallowed and smiled.

He’d give her the truth for this one.“Forty-six.”

Alice didn’t react in any significant way—no surprise or revulsion—confirming that whatever guess she may have been harboring must have been fairly close to his actual age.

She already knew he had decades over her. Knew he was old enough to be her father.

And she was unbothered.

“And do you…umm—if it’s okay to ask—do you…are you married? Do you have a family?”

Cooper had been anticipating this question, and had long rehearsed his response.

With muted affectation, he lowered his head and paused all movements, his fork hovering above the salad in static suspension as he assumed a faraway look.

He needed to appear somber.

He could see Alice fidgeting in his peripherals, her panic over his sudden despondency growing more overt by the moment, so he held the pose a few seconds longer before putting her out of her misery.

“I’m a widower,” Cooper answered quietly. “And…I’m no longer a father.” Alice gasped, her delicate face softening with sympathy. “My family…they were in a car accident several years ago.”

“Oh, Cooper, I—I’m so sorry.” Alice placed her tiny hand on his shoulder, and Cooper had to tighten his jaw to keep himself from grabbing her and pulling her into his lap—right where she belonged. “I know there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better, but please know…I’m…I’m so sorry…”

Cooper turned towards her while slowly covering her hand on his shoulder with his grasp, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. The way her small fingers completely disappeared beneath his palm.

How easy it would be to gather both of her hands in just one of his, bruising her fragile little wrists as he pinned her down and fucked her hard from behind—

“…and I know we don’t know each other very well, but…is there…is there anything you need?” Alice asked, her delicate voice practically bleeding compassion. “Anything I can do to for you?”

You can spread your legs and let Daddy inside your pussy, baby girl—

Cooper cleared his throat and took a sip of iced tea to cool off. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but you’re already doing plenty—just by being yourself. I’m new here, and I don’t really know anyone…honestly, you’ve been the highlight of my entire week.”

Alice gazed up at him with hopeful eyes.“R-really?”

Such a needy baby girl—

“Really,” Cooper affirmed. “Thank you, Alice. For your sympathy. And for your company. It means a lot to a lonely old man like me.”

He gave her hand a final longing squeeze before continuing to eat his dinner, and the two fell into a companionable silence, sharing secret smiles every time they made eye contact.��

“So…you said you’re new here,” the girl mentioned tentatively as she refilled his glass once he’d emptied his plate. “Does that mean…you’re here to…to stay?”

Cooper carefully wiped the corners of his mouth with a paper napkin before responding. He was pleased that she was continuing to ask personal questions. Not only did it mean she was curious, but it also meant she was getting comfortable around him.

Familiar.

“I am,” Cooper confirmed. “After…everything…I thought it was about time for a change of scenery. Some peace and quiet. I recently closed on a nice forest property about thirty minutes north of here.”

“That sounds wonderful—congratulations on your new home!” Alice chirped. “Are you already all moved in?”

“I still have a few dozen boxes to unpack, but yeah,” Cooper replied. “I get to those in-between work calls as best as I can.”

“What do you do for work?” Alice asked.

This was the part of the narrative Cooper had needed to embellish the most. Alice was painfully gullible—but she wasn’t stupid. Anyone would be suspicious of the luxury SUV he was driving and six-bedroom home he was currently living in if he said he was a former firefighter.

“I was an emergency physician in Boston,” Cooper answered.

It was a logical fake job—he possessed a well-above average understanding of the human body.

Particularly the human body under trauma.

Cooper continued, “But now, I work part-time from home with a small network of private hospitals and concierge practices providing telehealth services for patients with non-emergency medical needs.”

Alice’s eyes widened, but not with the wonderment he was anticipating. He’d expected her to be impressed by his story, but strangely, Alice seemed more and more nervous by the moment.

“Wow—so you must be…you must be super smart,” she eventually said in a small voice.

It dawned on him that his fake credentials likely made Alice feel insecure about her own limited education, so Cooper shook his head and released a self-deprecating laugh to put her at ease. “When it comes to medicine, sure. But that’s about it. I’m a simple man, really. I couldn’t help you if you were to ask me about something like…oh, I don’t know…” Cooper paused for a few moments and brought his hand to his chin, feigning consideration. “Literature. Art. Classical music.”

Alice immediately perked up—just as he knew she would—that irresistible, girlishly cheerful gleam restored in her eyes. “Oh, I could tell you all about those! Especially classical music!”

Of course, Cooper had already learned within days of seeing her for the first time that these were Alice’s areas of interest and strength.

She was an avid reader, visiting the local library every Wednesday at ten a.m. to check out books before she did her grocery shopping, defaulting most often to 19th and early 20th-century British literature. Currently, she was reading Northanger Abbey, though her favorite book of all time was The Hobbit. She typically finished a chapter each day a few hours before her evening shift at the diner, when she’d arrange a little tea party for herself in her apartment.

She was also an amateur artist, and brought a sketchbook and colored pencils to the lakefront park every Sunday at noon to draw wildlife. For the last several weeks, she’d been working on a drawing of a family of white-tailed deer. It was clear she had no formal art instruction, but Cooper found her whimsical doodles to be endearing.

He couldn’t wait to cover the walls of his new home—their home—with pictures she made especially for Daddy.

But the area where his little girl held true mastery was with classical music, and the elite form of athletic art that came with it.

Alice was a ballerina.

“Well I look forward to learning all that I can from you,” Cooper replied sincerely. “Do you play an instrument?”

Alice shook her head, cheeks reddening. “Well, no…but I studied ballet pretty seriously from when I was three up until a couple of years ago. Learning about classical music kind of comes with it.”

“Now that is what I call impressive,” Cooper praised. “What’s your favorite ballet?”

Alice was on the verge of bouncing up and down, the girl was so clearly excited to talk about her favorite thing. “Well it’s definitely a three-way tie between—”

“I’m going home,” a new voice suddenly announced, and Cooper’s spine stiffened, all of his senses electrified to high alert.

Always in the habit of constantly surveying his surroundings, it was a very rare occurrence when Cooper was unable to detect the arrival of a new person. And when it did happen, it…unnerved him.

The fry cook who had snuck up on them like a ghost was probably fifteen or twenty years older than Cooper was, tall with a gangly build, though there was a haggard weariness lining his gray face that made him appear much older. The man stepped fully into the fluorescents, and Cooper noticed that about a third of his face was violently scarred from a poorly-healed chemical burn. He also had a collection of dog tags around his neck.

This man was ex-military.

“It’s okay, Ted, I can lock up,” Alice said timidly to the new arrival, but the cook shook his head. “I have it handled—”

“I lock up,” the man called Ted interrupted gruffly. “Take his plates to the dishwasher. Tell him the diner is closed.”

Alice offered Cooper an apologetic smile before completing her duties as she’d been instructed, briefly disappearing in the kitchens with Ted, who Cooper found himself hating more and more by the moment.

The ways he could dismember and mutilate the intrusive fuck who dared to interrupt his time with his little girl—

“Sorry about that,” Alice said breathlessly when she finally emerged. She’d let her lovely hair down—pretty, pretty girl—and was tying an oversized coat around her tiny waist. “Do you think you might want to come back soon—”

“Don’t I have a bill to pay?”

Alice shook her head with a self-satisfied smile as she reached for a spray bottle and towel, giving a final wipe-down to the countertop where Cooper had been dining. “Tonight’s on me. Your tip last time was way too generous.”

Cooper gritted his teeth and balled his fists in an effort to suppress the spark of rage her little stunt instigated. He reminded himself that Alice wasn’t insulting him on purpose—he highly doubted she possessed a single brat bone within her small body. She didn’t know she’d broken one of his rules, because she didn’t know his rules yet.

As much as he wanted to bend her over his knee, tear off her panties, and beat her ass so hard she wouldn’t be able to sit for weeks without crying in pain, he couldn’t punish her for not yet knowing that Daddy always paid for all expenses. But soon, Alice would learn that it was Daddy’s job to take care of her, and a sweet little girl like her never needed to worry about big things like money, no matter the amount.

“Thank you, Alice,” Cooper forced himself to say.

He shrugged into his jacket and followed her out of the restaurant, standing patiently with his hands in his pockets as Alice demurely fidgeted beneath his gaze.

“I…umm…I guess I’d better head home,” Alice announced with apparent reluctance. “My apartment’s just a quick walk that way.”

“Would you like a ride?” Cooper offered. Her apartment really wasn’t far, but Cooper was highly uncomfortable with her walking alone at night.

It was why he’d been following her on nearly all of her walks since he’d first laid eyes on her, to make sure she always stayed safe.

“I’ll be okay—thank you, Cooper,” Alice twinkled sweetly. “And…I really, really hope to see you again soon.”

They said their goodbyes, and Cooper waited an appropriate amount of time before climbing into his car and picking up Alice’s trail. He followed her unseen as she walked down Main Street, and then turned onto Briar Lane to the dilapidated walk-up at the end of the otherwise deserted road. Killing the headlights, Cooper carefully maneuvered the car off-road, parking behind the dense collection of trees with a direct view of Alice’s third-floor bedroom window.

His heart rate jumpstarted when, right on schedule, her bedroom lights came on exactly four minutes later, and Alice finally stepped into the frame.

Cooper was pleased to see that Alice was back to dreamily twirling around on her toes and smiling. Seeing her Daddy again had clearly put his little girl back in her happy mood.

And Cooper wanted nothing more than to preserve her happiness and innocence, to keep her safely locked up in that bubble of bliss and pleasure forever.

Nothing and no one would ever harm her ever again—so long as she remained under Daddy’s protection.

He watched with interest as Alice reached into her antique dresser to select her pajamas for the night. During the spring and summer months when the weather was warmer, Alice had most often slept in nothing more than a tank top with a cheeky pair of panties. Cooper had certainly enjoyed the sight of her tight body in such skimpy items, but now that winter was fast approaching and the temperatures were plummeting by the hour, he found he also appreciated Alice’s preference for oversized fleece sets with whimsical patterns. Tonight, she picked a baby blue set patterned with ice cream cones and cupcakes.

She couldn’t be more adorable.

Alice disappeared into her bathroom for her nighttime shower, so Cooper took this interruption in his surveillance of his little girl to check in on his surveillance at home. He pulled out his phone and opened the app for the security system, swiping through various camera feeds until he landed on the basement of the guest house.

His captive had barely moved an inch from the position he’d been in when Cooper had last checked the feed, slumped against a far corner of the largely barren room. Granted, the shackles around his ankles and duct-tape binding his wrists prohibited extensive movement—and yes, he was blindfolded—but the man could still easily sniff and fumble his way to the water dish and food bowl Cooper had left for him on the floor the night before.

But apparently, the man had decided to conduct yet another hunger strike, for the food remained untouched.

Cooper pressed the microphone button. “We’ve been over this, buddy. Either you eat on your own, or I’ll force you to eat. What’s it gonna be?”

It had been several weeks since Cooper had shoved a feeding tube down the man’s throat, and while he wasn’t particularly squeamish about the act itself, the subsequent clean-up was a rather inconvenient hassle.

The man slowly raised his head, orienting himself in the general direction of the camera and speaker. “Fuck you, you goddamn psychopath.”

Cooper softly chuckled and closed out of the app, and was pleasantly surprised to find a new text message waiting for him.

Cooper glanced up at Alice’s window, and was instantly taken aback by how breathtaking his little girl was. Her years of ballet training were far more obvious now as she sat wrapped in a towel at the edge of her bed with her toned legs crossed, her posture perfect and elegant from her slender neck all the way down to her lower back.

She was…jumpy as she waited on his reply, chewing her lower lip in anticipation as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, looking between her phone and the direction of her bathroom and back again. He could tell she was debating whether or not to go ahead and take her shower, but his sweet girl was simply too excited to see if he would reply.

Cooper waited for a few more minutes—just let Daddy look at you, sweetheart—but when it became obvious her anxiety was beginning to climb, her brow furrowing with worry, Cooper quickly typed a response and hit send.

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