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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 years

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WIJ Day 9: Falling

CW: Building collapse, trapped, broken bones, fires/burns, nightmares, brief pet whump at the end, very brief vague ref to expected noncon that doesn’t happen

Beringer, Marc Sonders, and Mallie Sonders originally appeared in Telling Time and Hold On. This is for @whumpmasinjuly day 9, prompt: Falling

Houston, Texas, 2004

One moment, Miguel and Penny were sitting on the couch in his seventh floor apartment, and everything was absolutely fine. He had the Xbox controller in his hand, frowning as he watched the Elite be made an Arbiter, wondering how that tied into Master Chief and where the game was going next. “Look, Pen, I get to play as one of the Covenant.”

“Cool.” Penny was curled at the other end with a book. She didn't look up.

“Yeah, this game is going like a whole different direction than Combat Evolved, this is neat.”

“Definitely.” She still didn’t look up.

He huffed in good-natured, affectionate annoyance. God, he loved her so much.

One moment, everything was perfectly fine.

The next, he heard a sound.

Miguel looked up to see a crack in the ceiling that hadn’t been there five minutes before. “Penny? Do you see-”

She blinked, tearing herself out of the story, and followed his gaze. Her eyes widened, and his last good look at her would be seared into his mind until he begged them to take it from him. Her hair was still wet from her shower, laying dark over one brown shoulder. He remembers - or he would remember, for a little while - how her chest hitched under her tank top as she took in a sudden, sharp breath. “What do you think that’s about?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know. Uh, let’s-... let’s go downstairs and report it.” He grabbed his cell phone off the side table, while Penny dog-eared her page and set her book down. He remembered, for a long time, what book she was reading - The Da Vinci Code, because her coworkers wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Yeah, that’s scary shit. Want to get a hotel for tonight?”

“Definitely. No way I’m staying here until they fix whatever the hell that is. Maybe the upstairs people have a water leak?”

“Maybe-” There was a low rumble - the sort of thing they felt more than saw. Penny’s voice cut off, and she gasped. “Miguel! Look!”

He glanced upwards and he saw the crack in the ceiling get bigger, right before his eyes. It snaked further across the ceiling in both directions, and the goddamn roof over Miguel’s head seemed to… sag, a little.

“Oh, shit,” He whispered, and didn’t even bother to turn off the video game. He just dropped the controller and grabbed her by the arm. “We gotta go, Penny, come on, let’s go. I think the roof’s about to fall in!”

The walls around them seemed to shudder and change somehow. When he got to the door, it felt jammed shut, and he had to let go of Penny’s hand and shove his cell phone at her so he could grab on with both hands and yank as hard as he could to get it to swing open. The bottom edge, which had always been perfectly set just above the floor, scraped along the doormat and then dragged the floor.

“The walls moved,” He whispered. “The walls are wrong.” His mind couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing, and he hesitated too long.

“What?” Penny asked.

“The walls-”

He would remember the seconds of that hesitation ticking by, afterward.

“The walls are wrong-”

He would wonder if they would have made a difference.

“Penny… the building’s gonna fall!”

Maybe they would both be dead, if he’d been even a second faster or slower to realize what was going on. Maybe that would have been better.

“Oh my God,” She whispered.

He grabbed her arm and ran.

His bare feet hit cold concrete as he raced down the hall for the staircase throwing open the heavy reinforced door meant to slow down a fire. As they passed over apartments, he could see lights turning on, hear people calling out to each other. He refused to think about them, to think about anyone but Penny, anyone but himself.

“Miguel, oh my god-”

“Just run!”

They made it into the stairwell as the rumbling became a roar. The fluorescents overhead flickered wildly as he took the stairs three at a time, making it down one flight of stairs, then a second.

It happened so fast, in the end.

It happened too fast.

He had enough time to dive, pulling Penny with him into a corner underneath the fifth floor stairwell. He threw his arms around her and held on as tightly as he could, crushing her against him as she screamed.

It sounded like a whisper as the wall next to them cracked apart and gave way, and then there was nothing holding them at all.

They were falling.

The floor was still underneath him, chilly concrete painted with some kind of smooth sealant, but the wind whipped his hair and the air felt like sandpaper blasting against his skin. He screamed, too.

The roar of the building collapsing was louder.

They fell, every second slowing to individual ticks of time. He clung to her, and her nails dug into his back near his shoulder blades.

What a weird fucking way to die, he had time to think, before all thought was gone as they hit the ground.

Pain spiked up his leg and he screamed in a new way entirely. The force of their landing threw Penny away from him. He reached blindly for her and grasped only empty air. “Penny! Pen!”

“Miguel!”

He hit the ground, rolled, slammed into something like a rock with the breath knocked out of him. He gasped, rolled onto his back, and was shocked to find himself in the dark still breathing, staring upwards but seeing no stars.

No lights.

There was another rumble, and he flinched and covered his head, but nothing happened. Eventually, he pulled his hands slowly down.

The air reeked of smoke and that smell of building materials that he remembered from his time working construction back in high school, summers spent helping his uncle and dad for handfuls of cash he’d spent on girls, boys, weed, and movie nights. Way too many CDs, too, filling his CD book he kept in his car until he had to buy a second, filling that one, too. His eyes opened and closed without his say-so. He had grit in them, or it felt like it, and he coughed as his lungs kept inflating.

“What the fuck,” He whispered.

Then, from somewhere nearby, he heard Penny crying.

“Pen-... Penny-... where are you?”

“Miguel… what h, happened to us?” Penny’s voice cried out, somewhere close by but with the smoke he couldn’t see her. He coughed again, lungs fighting every breath - there was something wrong with a rib on his left side, it ached when he breathed, but it hurt so much less than his leg than he barely noticed. He lowered himself as close to… what used to be a floor… as he could get.

Little easier to breathe down here.

What had they taught, when they used to visit the fire department in elementary school? If there’s smoke, get low to the floor, because smoke and heat rise and you can make it to the door. Check the knob-

But what if there wasn’t a door, any longer?

What if he wasn’t even in a room?

“Keep talking, Pen, I’m coming to find you,” He groaned. His fingernails dug into what felt like pebbles, and he was making tiny trenches in the ground as he moved forwards, his leg shrieking agony, ignored for now. His teeth ground together.

“Miguel… I’m over here, baby, pl-... please, I’m stuck, please-”

He’d remembered her face, when he first saw her again, for a long time, too. Until he had thanked them for agreeing to take the guilt and the regret away.

He found her, only a few feet away, and she had blood in her hair and on her face, mixed with dust and dirt smeared all over. One of her arms didn’t look right, and he refused to look too closely at it, then. He refused to see the bone, visible through a break in her skin, through the blood.

For the moment all he saw was her face and that she was still alive.

For a second, his relief was greater than his terror.

Somewhere off to the side, he heard a cat meow, the scattering of bits of stone, the sound of it racing away from the rubble.

“I think-... I think that’s Abigail Henderson’s cat,” Penny managed, and then she coughed, so hard he knew even then there was more broken than her arm. “It has that weird kind of me-... meow. Miguel, what-... what happened? What just h-happened-”

“The… the whole building fell, I think.”

“Why?” The cry was a wail, not really a question.

He tried to answer anyway. “I don’t-... I don’t know, Pen.” A hint of cool air whispered around him, and he shivered. But the smoke seemed to clear, for just a minute, too. He could see, now, why he couldn’t see stars. “Oh, shit, I think we’re… I think we’re underneath it.”

“Underneath-”

“The building. Or… what was the building.”

Above him, there was concrete, and twisted metal, wires torn apart from each other. Incongruously, he could see half a sofa sticking out over to one side, the other half just… gone. Nothing left. Papers were everywhere, a smashed desktop monitor. A hairbrush, neon green backing, and he just stared at it, trying to understand.

Everyone’s entire lives buried down here with them, like a city after a volcano.

“What?” She tried to roll over, cried out in pain, and went still again, craning her neck instead to look up. “Oh-... oh my god.” Her voice shook, and he covered the last bit of distance between them to grab onto her hand, leaning his forehead down until he felt her fingers twitching against his skin. “Oh my God, we’re… we’re buried al, alive-”

She started to cry, sobbing helplessly, loud wracking sobs that made her hiss in pain, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. He just held on, as best he could, because he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to help.

Faintly, he could hear other people calling out to each other. He could hear water rushing from broken pipes somewhere nearby. There was a new rumble, something shifted, and people screamed. He tensed, lowering his head, but… nothing new fell on them. The rumbling stopped.

“I think we’re-... we’re in a pocket, or something,” He said, his voice coming out airier than he meant it to. He couldn’t comfort her if he sounded scared, could he? He tried to swallow, but even his saliva felt thick with dust and smoke. “Penny, I think we’re… I think it’s pretty stable right here. We just have to wait for the, uh, the firefighters-... they’re going to send firefighters, right?”

“Um, yes, r-right, I think they send firefighters. I saw-... I remember from when that place fell, the, uh, the vacation place-”

“Right, right, that place in Florida, the firefighters were on the scene super fast. We just have to hold on for a little while.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. “Just… just a little longer. Can you-... can you move at all?”

She swallowed, looking at him, the whites of her eyes seeming too bright in the darkness. She shook her head, looking back over her shoulder. The sob she wasn’t allowing out any longer was still in the thick of her voice. “I-I’m stuck under something, Miguel. I’m… oh god, I’m stuck-... my l-legs-... something’s on my legs-”

“Okay, uh, maybe I can pull you out-” He managed to get onto his knees, despite the pain racing through his nerves. He gritted his teeth and held her shoulders, trying to pull backwards.

She shrieked, holding tightly to him, clawing at him. He pulled and pulled but then her screaming fell apart, broke back into sobs, shaking her head. She had moved... maybe an inch. “Stop! Stop, I can’t do this, stop stop stop stop-”

“It’s okay,” He whispered quickly, letting go and settling back down in front of her. “It’s okay. I’m done, I’m done. It’s okay.”

She nodded, weeping softly.

He looked at the concrete and rebar and everything else on top of her, then back to her, seeming so... so small. “It’s okay, Pen. The firefighters will have something to move that off you, you’re going to be fine. It’s going to be fine. We’re okay. We’re not dead, we’re not dead.”

Yet, his brain filled in, but he recoiled from that thought. He had read books on people who survived weird things like this, and they all said that believing you would live was more important than anything else.

Don’t lose hope. Don’t give up.

He looked around the little open space they were in, bordered on every side by ruin and rubble. His own ankle and leg throbbed, but it was… it wasn’t important, compared to so much of what he could feel right now.

He couldn’t stop thinking they would get out, or maybe they wouldn’t.

“Right, it’ll be f-fine.” She nodded, but she didn’t believe him. He didn’t believe himself. “They’ll save us.”

“They will.” He put a hand to the side of her face, and she tipped her cheek into it, eyes closing. He kept his forehead against hers, breathing slowly in and out, until his racing heart began, finally, to calm. The adrenaline just couldn’t keep rising any longer. “Penny, they will.”

The pounding headache started sometime around when the adrenaline crashed. But he kept whispering to her, as much as he could, until he ran out of words, and then they simply laid there, breathing together in the dark.

When they heard the sirens, they both began to shout, hoping someone would call back.

Someone did.

They waited, listening to the rescuers working to move enough of the wreckage to find them. Miguel found a loose piece of metal he refused to think too much about - somebody’s bedframe, another piece of a person’s destroyed life - and banged it against a nearby pipe to make noise until his arms wore out.

He broke the pipe enough to get some water from it, so he and Penny could have a little to drink. He moved to her with water cupped in his hands for her to sip.

The firefighters kept saying, just hold on a little longer, we’re coming for you, we’re working your way, just hold on.

Just hold on a little longer.

By the time the rescuers were close enough, though, the fires had spread, and their pocket of air was starting to heat up.

Beringer’s eyes open in the darkness. He stares upward, seeing no stars, and feels his breath coming in harsh rasping gasps, shallowing fighting for air against the smoke filtering down into his lungs.

“Penny,” He whispers, and doesn’t know whose name that is. Only that she’s dying, and he’s watching her fade, hour by hour, as the smoke gets thicker.

His hands move up to his own throat-

And find his collar, still there, the tag clinking softly, worn metal against his desperately seeking fingers. He rubs at his number, at his name, again and again. Runs his fingers over the leather that curves around his throat, eyes closing as tears prick hot and demanding against the insides of his eyelids.

They force their way out, run down the sides of his face, dampen his ears and then soak into the pillowcase beneath.

His heart pounds, but he doesn’t remember why.

Falling, and fire.

And her voice.

Penny, I’m so sorry-

Kid, you gotta get outta there right the hell now or it’s going to fall on you-

I’m so sorry, g-goodbye, I’m so sorry-

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers, without remembering quite who he owes the apology to.

There’s a warm hand on his shoulder through the cotton of his shirt and he startles, jerking to the side with a whimper, looking up wide-eyed to find Marc Sonders leaning over him, wearing just a white tank top and boxer shorts. In the other queen-sized bed, Marc’s little girl shifts, murmuring to herself, her loveys clutched to her chest, their soft little heads just under her chin. He has seen Mallie asleep for naptime or overnights a hundred times.

People who think children sleep silent or still are people who have never had them. Not that Beringer has, but…

But every child was his, for as long as he could care for them, until WRU ripped them out of his arms when they got too old to stay.

Never again.

“You okay?” Marc asks, in a whisper. There’s real concern in his face, his voice, his eyes. He’s so easy to lie to, so easy to fool.

Beringer wants to whisper, I was going to hit you over the head, and you worry about me? Which one of us has had our brain emptied out, exactly? But Marc doesn’t know that part, about how Beringer was going to hurt him. So all he does is swallow, lick at his lips, and slowly nods. “I’m-... I’m okay. Just-”

“Nightmares. Yeah, you guys get those a lot.” Marc glances back at Mallie, then carefully seats himself at the edge of Beringer’s bed. “You usually show up running from the kind of stuff that causes nightmares, they tell us. Although I guess if you don’t have ‘em before you show up, we make sure you get ‘em, huh?”

Beringer pushes himself up to seated, back against his damp pillows, looking closely at Marc. His short hair is all mussed up from sleeping, and it’s… kind of adorable-looking. “Do yours get nightmares from you?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his legs.

Marc looks down. His half-smile is only a little sad, in the dim blue light that makes its way through from outside the window, around the edges of the heavy curtains pulled tight. “Not from me,” He says, finally. “But some of them come with nightmares, when they start. Things that they tried to get rid of keep coming back up. The Drip works, it really does, but if there’s really severe trauma, sometimes… sometimes-”

“Sometimes,” Beringer whispers, thinking of another terrible late-night movie, of sitting up glued to the screen watching shuffling zombies while the kids and the other daycare pets slept. “Sometimes, the dead don’t die.”

“Uh… right. Yeah. Or, abusive parents, whatever. I get them in with the counselors, I get them meds to help them sleep, whatever work signs off on. But none of their nightmares come from me, at least. That’s… that’s something, right?”

“It’s something.” Beringer can’t quite keep the dry humor from his voice, and both of them huff soft laughter, trying not to wake Mallie up. “How close are we to Hope, Marc?”

“I don’t know. I just know it’s in Montana, near the border with Canada, kind of close to Idaho. Probably… two more days in hotels before we get there. Is that okay? Mallie can’t really handle those all-day car rides super well-”

“That’s fine. That’s just fine. We should probably go to a store and get new clothes, though.” Beringer hesitates, then reaches out, and closes his hand over Marc’s, feels his fingers shift underneath his grip before Marc turns to look at him. “Marc… do you want to kiss me right now?”

Marc’s breath catches. He looks away, then back, but sidelong, as if afraid it will all dissolve. His cheeks have gone all red, just like on TV. Beringer feels his scars shift and itch, the ropey burns that had worked up his back as he had fought like hell to get through to the firefighters, to the rescuers holding out a hand, begging him to push himself through the space, to survive-

Penny was still alive when he left her-

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

Forgets her.

Marc is still watching him when his eyes open again. He smiles, but it’s slightly sad, and soft. “Not tonight,” Marc says, gently. “But if you want… do you want to watch TV for a while? Just until you feel good to go back to sleep again?”

Beringer had expected heavy hands, hard kisses. Had expected to have his own boxers pulled down over his hip, to have to make frantic explanations he can’t quite recall when Marc sees the burn scars that cover his legs, his shoulders, his back, parts of his stomach and chest. When that doesn’t happen, it takes him seconds to process, and then he smiles - brighter than he means to, more sincere than he intended - and nods. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, Marc.”

“Cool. Good. All right. Just stay there.”

Marc stands, wanders over to find the remote where it still rests on the TV stand, and comes back. He climbs into Beringer’s bed, but all he does is sit with his back to the headboard and his body on top of the covers. He turns the TV on and picks some random James Bond movie playing at 3 am, settling back to just… sit there, with Beringer, in the dark.

Beringer turns to look at him, the lines of his profile written sharply in the cold light of the television. When his hand moves, hesitantly, Marc feels his questing touch and their hands press together, palm to palm.

That’s it.

Marc doesn’t push for a kiss, or say Beringer owes him anything for this escape. Beringer looks back at the TV, but he doesn’t see - or hear - a thing.

Shit.

He’s still falling, isn’t he?

Just a different way of hanging in the air before he hits the ground and breaks.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @orchidscript @whump-tr0pes @hackles-up

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hag-lad · 1 year

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Tagged by my all time fave, @alienfuckeronmain ! Thanks, pal!

I’ll tag @intergalacticwhales @dark-emissary @leolaroot @spacedyevest @wanderingtheythem @perditious @rabidvulcan and anyone else who feels like playing along!

were you named after anybody?

First name no, middle name is after my grandmother, Ethel. Lowkey wish that was my first name, lmao

when was the last time you cried?

At work last week, because I was listening to Celestial Elixir by Haken and that song is simply TOO MUCH (in the best way). So devastating and beautiful.

do you have kids?

No... I keep thinking I might want kids in the future though. The world needs more lesbian parents.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

No, I kind of hate sarcasm. I almost never understand when others are being sarcastic, so it does not come naturally for me to use it.

what sports did you play/have you played?

Chess 😎

what’s the first thing you notice in somebody?

Probably the way they talk? Voice, turn of phrase, accent, vocabulary, etc.

eye color?

Green

scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings, generally. Scary movies don’t scare me anymore so they’re just kind of a bummer :(

any special talents?

I’m extremely good at untying tangled cords and strings. I’m also a damn good explorer, like, I’m the person who “knows a spot” except I know like 700 spots, and they’re all very cool and unseen. Hit me up for abandoned building recommendations.

where were you born?

Houston, Texas

what are your hobbies?

Photography, digital collage, Photoshop, sewing, hiking, cycling, fan fiction (reading and writing), exploring internet rabbit holes, making playlists, making mood boards (with my own photography or with pinterest; i’m vers), gardening, home improvement (recently taught myself how to replace all the guts in a toilet tank! yay!), tarot & oracle reading, divination, and of course, READING BOOKS.

do you have pets?

3 beautiful cats

how tall are you?

5′3ish

favorite subject in high school?

English

dream job?

I don’t know, man. On the one hand, capitalism is an oppressive hellscape of exploitation and control, and I’m way too punk rock to work for The Man. But on the other hand, there are so many things that Need To Get Done, and it feels wrong to even fantasize about shirking my responsibility to contribute. Not to mention the financial necessity of working, forever. Like, I will literally never be able to retire or anything like that. I’ve changed my mind hundreds of times about how I can fit myself into the job market without going insane. And I’ve determined that it’s less about my title and more about what fills my day. If I can be useful, make people’s lives easier, take plenty of breaks, and do no harm to people or the environment, I’ll do anything. Right now, I’m a social worker, and that ticks most of the boxes, so I’m alright. But it would be really cool to be, like, an electrician or plumber, or to foster kids, or to become a doula or a school counselor, or anything in National Parks/ forest services. I just want to avoid bullshit busy work, because that’s the shit that kills me.

#tagged

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garagegaterepair · 1 year

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Exploring Houston's Natural Beauty: A Day At Willow Waterhole Greenway

https://localprogaragedoorrepair.com/

In the heart of the bustling metropolis of Houston, Texas lies an oasis of tranquillity and natural beauty - Willow Waterhole Greenway.

This green space, a part of the Greater Houston area's extensive park system, serves as a sanctuary for local flora and fauna whilst providing numerous recreational opportunities for its visitors.

Spanning nearly 300 acres in Westbury neighborhood, this urban wildlife habitat is celebrated for its preservation efforts and commitment to environmental sustainability.

The exploration of Willow Waterhole Greenway offers a unique insight into Houston's rich biodiversity, with dedicated areas for wildlife spotting and bird watching.

It also features an array of amenities that cater to diverse interests—be it leisurely strolls along well-maintained trails, engaging in sporting activities or simply unwinding amidst serene surroundings.

As one delves deeper into understanding this gem within the cityscape, it becomes evident how integral such spaces are in fostering a sense of community while promoting environmental awareness amongst residents.

Wildlife Spotting and Bird Watching at Willow Waterhole Greenway

At Willow Waterhole Greenway, a plethora of avian species can be observed in their natural habitat, making it a veritable paradise for bird watchers and providing an intriguing glimpse into the wildlife of yesteryears.

The 279-acre park is home to more than 200 species of birds, including raptors like the Red-tailed Hawk and migratory birds such as the Indigo Bunting. The Greenway's diverse ecosystem offers ample food sources and nesting areas which attract these birds year-round.

From the quiet rustle of wings to melodious bird calls echoing through the woods, every visit provides an immersive sensory experience that brings one closer to nature.

Being part of Houston's larger parks system, Willow Waterhole Greenway also serves as a sanctuary for various other forms of wildlife. On any given day, visitors may encounter rabbits darting across trails or turtles basking in sunlit ponds.

The dense vegetation lining pathways is often abuzz with dragonflies and butterflies adding vivid splashes of color against the green backdrop. This biodiversity not only enriches visitor experiences but plays a vital role in sustaining local ecosystems by facilitating pollination and serving as natural pest control.

Despite being nestled within an urban expanse, Willow Waterhole Greenway manages to preserve its wild charm effortlessly. Its peaceful ambiance allows visitors to disconnect from city life momentarily while fostering their sense of belongingness towards nature's grandeur.

Whether you are an ardent birder keen on ticking off new sightings from your list or someone seeking respite amidst lush greenery punctuated with vibrant wildlife, this verdant oasis has something unique to offer everyone who steps onto its welcoming paths.

Activities and Amenities at Willow Waterhole Greenway

Willow Waterhole Greenway offers a myriad of activities and amenities that cater to various interests and age groups.

The site is renowned for its extensive walking and biking trails, allowing visitors to immerse themselves in the tranquility of nature while staying active.

Additionally, scenic picnic areas provide a serene backdrop for leisurely meals or gatherings, while an array of community events and programs foster a sense of camaraderie amongst park-goers.

Exploring the Walking and Biking Trails

Numerous walking and biking trails meander through the lush greeneries of Willow Waterhole Greenway, offering an immersive experience into Houston's vibrant natural landscape. These trails are a testament to the city's commitment to conserving its green spaces and providing recreational facilities for citizens and visitors alike.

The pathways, which vary from smooth paved surfaces ideal for cycling to more rugged routes perfect for hiking, provide opportunities not only for physical activities but also for appreciating the diverse flora and fauna that inhabit these areas. Birdwatchers will be delighted with sightings of local bird species, while joggers can enjoy the serene environment away from the city's hustle.

The grandeur of Willow Waterhole Greenway extends beyond its verdant landscapes as it serves as a gathering place that fosters community spirit and promotes environmental stewardship among Houstonians. As one traverses its winding trails, there is this profound sense of connection - not only with nature but also with fellow park-goers who share in their appreciation of this urban oasis.

The frequent encounters with cyclists signaling their approach or families engaging in outdoor picnics by the waterholes exemplify a shared sense of respect and love for this public space. This interconnectedness resonates deeply within those who visit Willow Waterhole Greenway, encouraging them to uphold its conservation efforts while creating meaningful experiences within its beautiful confines.

Enjoying the Scenic Picnic Areas

Scattered throughout the lush parkland are scenic picnic areas, ideal for those who wish to enjoy a meal amid nature's tranquility. These spaces offer a unique opportunity for visitors to immerse themselves in the natural beauty of Willow Waterhole Greenway while enjoying an alfresco lunch or dinner.

Carefully designed with visitor comfort and convenience in mind, these areas feature well-maintained tables, benches, and expansive grassy spots perfect for laying down a picnic blanket. Set against the backdrop of verdant foliage and blooming flowers, these facilities provide a picturesque setting that is sure to enhance any outdoor dining experience.

The strategic placement of these picnic spots allows visitors to appreciate Houston's diverse flora and fauna up close. The symphony of bird songs offers soothing background music while squirrels dart playfully amidst the trees nearby.

Furthermore, these locales often present prime views of Willow Waterhole's series of interconnected ponds – teeming with ducks, herons and turtles – providing not just an idyllic visual feast but also an engaging wildlife observation point.

Thus, spending time at Willow Waterhole's picnic areas is more than just about satisfying one's appetite; it presents opportunities for discovery, relaxation and bonding over shared experiences - all integral aspects that cultivate a sense of belonging within this urban oasis.

Participating in Community Events and Programs

Engaging in the various community events and programs is another enriching activity to partake in, further promoting unity and interaction among park-goers.

Willow Waterhole Greenway serves as an active hub for a multitude of local events that bring together Houston's diverse residents. These range from environmental conservation programs, bird-watching sessions, guided nature walks, to music festivals and art exhibits - all aimed at fostering a sense of community while encouraging appreciation for the park's natural beauty.

Particularly impressive is the annual 'MusicFest,' where local musicians provide riveting performances amidst the lush greenery.

Moreover, educational initiatives offered at Willow Waterhole Greenway are instrumental in raising awareness about the importance of urban green spaces and wildlife preservation. These involve interactive workshops and presentations conducted by experienced conservationists who share their extensive knowledge about Houston's unique biodiversity.

Additionally, volunteer opportunities abound for those interested in contributing more actively towards maintaining this urban oasis.

By participating in these community-centered activities, not only do visitors gain valuable insights into Houston's environment but they also experience a deep sense of belonging within this vibrant community that appreciates and preserves its natural surroundings.

#Houston #TX:#us

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critteronehtx · 1 year

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Houston Wildlife removal services

Rodents are warm-blooded mammals that, like humans, can be found throughout the world. They have oversized front teeth for gnawing and check teeth, which are adapted for chewing. Rodents chew on a variety of items available to them and cause great damage in and around homes.

Rodents are some of the most adaptable creatures on the planet and can be extremely difficult to exterminate. Infestations can cause considerable damage to infested buildings and local agriculture as well as the proliferation of many diseases hazardous to humans.

Rodents are capable of spreading more than 30 diseases through their saliva, excrement, and urine. Some people are allergic to their excrement and to their shed fur. They will bring diseases making parasites like mites and ticks to the houses. And also they have a chewing habit which leads to many damages for houses.

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itbugsorus · 2 years

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Pest control or Bed Bug Removal Houston TX | Bed Bug Treatment Houston TX

Bed Bugs are one of the most common pests found in homes today. They feed on human blood and can cause severe allergic reactions.· Bedbugs are small insects that live in cracks and crevices in furniture and walls.

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They live in cracks and crevices in furniture or bedding.

They hide during the day and come out at night to feed. Bedbugs are small insects with flat bodies and six legs.

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They are often mistaken for ticks because they are similar in size and shape. However, they do not have any hair and are much smaller than ticks.

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Ghosted (Emily x Reader)

Request 1: sonnett where reader is really good friends with a goalie(your choice) and sonnett gets jealous because reader and goalie play for the same club and Emily is in Europe. Do she goes to Lindsey and reader thinks Emily is going to breakup with her and pushes her closer to the goalie and it’s a whole shit show

Request 2: Can you do a Emily Sonnett imagines where her and the reader are together but the reader use to date someone else on the team ( you can chose) and the comments gets to Emily. And the Reader shows Emily how much she loves her?

Request 3: Something with Jane Campbell please

Author’s Note: I thought these three would work very well together, so I combined them. Also, this one takes an interesting turn in the end and if you look closely enough there are hints to a very interesting dynamic and why reader and jane wouldn’t work out. Let me know what you think. I live for interactions and stuff. They help to keep me motivated.

It had been one hell of a year. It had started with both you and your girlfriend getting zero notice when the thorns traded her to Orlando and you to Houston. Then you had been trapped on opposite ends of the country due to the pandemic. That distance only got bigger when she decided to go to Sweden when Orlando pulled out of the challenge cup.

But the two of you had made it work. Well, at least you thought you had made it work. apparently, Emily thought differently, if the silent treatment you had gotten the second you stepped into camp 3 hours ago was anything to go by.

Hell, she wouldn’t even look in your direction. All you wanted was to hold your girlfriend (cause you hadn’t seen her in person in almost 6 months) and it felt like she didn’t even give a fuck that you were there. And Lindsey intercepted you every time you tried to get close.

You smiled as you approached your blond girlfriend, leaning on the squat rack next to her. Normally you’d wrap your arms around her and kiss her neck, but you didn’t want to overstep with this weird tension happening between you.

“Hey Em, wanna partner?” you asked softly, almost shyly.

Emily didn’t even turn to acknowledge you.

“I’m already with Linds,” She said tensely. Since when had she been so on edge around you?

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what was happening between you and your girlfriend. You glanced down at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting.

“Oh, maybe-“ You started, poking the squat rack with your shoe. You looked up, only to find that Emily had already walked away and joined Lindsey on the other side of the gym.

You sighed, finishing your thought into the blank air around you. “we could do dinner or something later. Guess not,”

You blew out a long breath, willing yourself to hold back the tears. She didn’t even wait to see what you were going to say. Your eyes followed her as she hugged the blond midfielder and laughed loudly at whatever she was saying. It was like a knife in your heart.

“What’s going on with you and Miss Sweden?” Hands on your shoulders and the voice right next to your ear should have made you jump, but you were too used to Jane’s scare tactics.

You rolled your eyes and shrugged the keeper off of you, your gaze never leaving Emily. “Honestly, I have no clue,” You sighed deeply. She had never been like this with you before, and you definitely hadn’t expected your reunion to go like this.

“Maybe it’s just jet lag. You know how she gets when she doesn’t get enough sleep,” Jane shrugged, poking at your dimples, trying to get you to laugh. You batted her hand away.

“The question is how you know that,” You said, sending her a scathing look.

She smirked impishly, wiggling her eyebrows. “I live with you, remember?”

You dramatically rolled your eyes, shoving your best friend. “I don’t think You’d ever let me forget,”

The only good thing about your trade to the dash was that you got to hang out with your best friend every day. You and Jane had known each other since college and instantly hit it off as friends. When you had been traded, Jane also just happened to be looking for a roommate and things had worked out pretty well.

“Well, if you’re still looking for a dinner date, I’m free tonight,” Jane hummed, wrapping an arm around you again.

“Been there, done that,” You scoffed playfully, shoving her again, but she didn’t let go of you this time.

So maybe the two of you had tried in college. It was more of a fling than anything else, and it had mutually ended on great terms. You loved each other, but you weren’t in love and that was alright. You decided you were way better off as friends than lovers and left it at that. Plus, you had kinda fallen insanely hard for a certain blond cavalier.

“Not that kind of date,” She giggled, letting you shove her ways this time (definitely taking note of how your lips ticked up and patting herself on the back for clearing some of the clouds on your sunny personality away).

“Whatever you say, now shut up and spot me,”

The two of you were so caught up that you didn’t see the annoyed blue eyes following you from across the room, or the clenched fists and jaw that would have told you exactly what the issue with your girlfriend was.

*****

You tried to smile as you entered the dining room, hoping that you would finally have the chance to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering your girlfriend.

You spotted her from across the room, seated at a table with Rose, Sam, and Mal. You released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding at the absence of a certain blond midfielder. Emily had been attached to her side, and watching them was like a knife in your chest, every interaction a slice at what felt like the tiny thread keeping your relationship together.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” You asked as you approached the table, stopping short of the seat next to your girlfriend.

She tensed, and you noted how her jaw clenched with furrowed eyebrows. She opened her mouth, but before she could respond another body slid between the two of you.

“Yeah, it is,” Lindsey said firmly, setting her plate down right in front of the seat in question. You frowned, and your fingers tightened around your plate. You bit your lip in an attempt to not say the thing that was on your mind. Despite how pissed off you were with the woman, she was your friend too.

You glanced around the table that was now awkwardly staring at you, your eyes landing on an empty seat next to Mal and across from Emily.

“Alright, what about that one?”

“Taken too,” Lindsey said shortly with a shrug. Mal glared at her. “No, it’s not, sit Y/n,”

The team was growing tired of the tension between you, and how sad you looked.

“Thanks,” You mumbled, sliding in beside Mal.

Silence fell over the table, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You never felt so unwelcome around your friends before.

“Well I better get going,” Emily said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, shoving the chair back and abruptly standing. Lindsey stood up next to her, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Your chest ached at the hand placement and how Emily leaned into her.

You shot up too, clearing your throat and extending your hand. “Wait Em, I thought maybe we could talk after dinner?” You said, desperation clear in your voice. The table had never heard you like this before, had never seen a crack in your typically cool and unfailingly in control exterior.

“She’s already got plans,” Lindsey said with an eye roll, and Emily seems to tuck herself further into the taller midfielder. You gulped down the defeat and desperation threatening to crawl out of your chest.

“Oh, um maybe I could join you then?” You asked hopefully.

“Private plans Y/n.” Lindsey snapped, already beginning to guide Emily out of the room, seemingly careless to what you had to say. The blond defender didn’t even give you the courtesy of eye contact as she left.

“Sure, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. I love you, Emily,” You called after their backs, watching them go.

Everything in you seemed to deflate. It felt like she was leaving with a piece of you like she didn’t even care you were crumbling behind her. You didn’t try to stop the tears as they fell this time, slumping miserably back into your seat.

A warm presence knelt next to you, and soft but calloused hands gently wiped the tears burning down your face.

You met the keeper’s concerned blue eyes and allowed her to pull you into her strong embrace, hiding your face in her neck.

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” You sobbed. Jane rubbed large circles on your back with one hand and squeezed you tight with the otherHands-onother hand was trying to hold your broken pieces together.

“I don’t know either,” She said, kissing the side of your head.

You missed Emily pausing at the door to send you one last look, but Jane didn’t. Her eyes bored into the blond defender. If she thought she could just jerk you around like this with no consequences then she had another thing coming.

Jane wasn’t romantically attracted to you, but you were her best friend and she wasn’t about to let you continue to get hurt. Emily might be able to avoid you, but she wouldn’t be able to avoid Jane, the keeper would make sure of it.

****

“Alright cut the Bullshit Sweden, you’ve been ignoring Y/n for a week. What the fuck is your problem,” Jane growled, stepping into the nearly empty locker room and glaring at your girlfriend. She knew you could more than take care of yourself, but this had gone on long enough.

Emily tensed at the new presence, back straightening and eye going wide. She hadn’t bet on the head of the Houston department of defense to get involved.

“Fuck off Campbell,” Lindsey said back, stepping so she was standing protectively in front of her best friend.

“I will not because your best friend there is hurting my best friend,” Jane took another step towards the duo, puffing out her chest.

“Yeah right, she’s barely even noticed,” Emily scoffed, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

“See, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that considering she’s cried herself to sleep every night since she’s been here,” Jane said, taking another terrifying step forward, stabbing her finger wildly into the air.

She had been the one to hold you while you sobbed yourself to sleep because you were sure Emily had fallen out of love with you. The one who watched you agonize over every interaction you had with your girlfriend leading up to camp, trying to find where you had gone wrong. The one who listened to you degrade yourself for apparently driving Emily away and right into Lindsey’s arms. She was watching as you literally ripped yourself apart over this.

“And what, You didn’t enjoy comforting your new girlfriend?” Lindsey scoffed loudly, shoving Jane’s hand (which was practically touching her chest) away.

“What?” Jane asked shocked.

Emily peeked over Lindsey’s shoulder, scowling at the keeper. Anyone with eyes knew what they meant. “Look, I know she’s cheating so you can both drop the friends act,”

Jane oils to help the laugh that bubbled out of her lips. God, Emily was clueless if she thought you two were anything more than friends. Sure you had tried in college, but there weren’t romantic feelings there. You both wanted such different things out of a partner and agreed that you were better off as friends. Emily was your person, and Jane would be damned if anyone said anything different.

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think she wants anyone but you and if you weren’t so far up Horan‘s ass you would know that. If you wanna break up with her to date Miss Portland then grow some balls and do it, but don’t you dare try and ghost the sweetest person in the world,”

“You would love that wouldn’t you?” Emily spat.

Jane rolled her eyes. “No, because it would hurt her more than you already have. She loves you, and I thought you loved her. If you do, then you should show it,”

Emily seemed to soften at Jane’s words. She did love you, more than life itself. She really had to talk this whole thing out with you. Jane didn’t give her a chance to respond, deciding that storming off to find you and make sure you were ready for practice was a more productive use of time (she would never admit that it scared her a little to leave you alone these days).

*****

Emily wasn’t a jealous person. At least she tried not to be. But it was really fucking difficult when it came to you and your friendship with Jane. Well, it was difficult in the beginning, when she had you next to her, but with you so far away it was nearly unbearable.

She hadn’t minded that the Dash moved you into Jane’s apartment, but then the comments started and they wouldn’t leave her alone. Instead of turning to you, talking it out with you, she had gone running to her own best friend. And in her effort to run from the fear that you wouldn’t choose her, she had hurt you in the process.

She watched you from across the field, taking in the slight tilt of your head and slump of your shoulders. You smiled tightly at the keeper as she approached you, but Emily could tell that it didn’t reach your eyes, even from across the field. She also knew it wasn’t the blinding smile you saved solely for her. How hadn’t she noticed it before?

“Jane was a little crude but she’s right you know,” Lindsey said, wrapping an arm around Emily’s shoulder, her eyes easily finding you.

She felt bad about how Emily was treating you.

“About which part?” Emily asked, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. Jane had said a whole lot, and she couldn’t find it within herself to disagree with them. It was childish to ignore you, and for her to be oblivious to your obvious feelings.

“Don’t play dumb,” Lindsey scoffed, pinching Emily’s side a little harder than necessary. She didn’t like being the middleman between the two of you. You were her friend too after all.

Emily sighed crossing her arms a little tighter around herself. “I know. I need to talk to talk to her,”

“I’m sure when she finds out what’s bothering you, there’ll be a whole lot more than talking. Isn’t communication one of those rules between the two of you?” Lindsey asked with a smirk, laughing loudly when Emily shoved her. The team knew about your relationship… dynamic and Lindsey was sure Emily was in for it when you realized exactly why the defender had broken your most sacred agreement.

“Shut up,”

Emily’s cheeks flavored up at the implication. He was sure you’d come up with a very… creative… way to aid her in expressing her feelings next time and show her how much you loved her when you found out what this whole thing was about.

*****

You watched Emily very carefully from your perch on the end of the bed. She had dragged you here right after practice, and as soon as the door closed the words were pouring out of her lips.

You sat quietly, letting her finally get out the emotions she had been keeping from you for so long. She explained how the comments on Houston’s latest photo of you and Jane had started this whole shit show, and how terrified she was that you would decide you didn’t want to deal with the distance.

You let her pace back and forth as she told you about how she didn’t want to confront the issue, so she thought ignoring you would be a better course of action. It didn’t give you a chance to tell her that you didn’t want to be with her anymore.

She finally paused, turning to look at you with wide tearful eyes, wringing her hands nervously in front of her.

“I don’t have romantic feelings for Jane,” You said seriously, looking your girlfriend right in the eyes. You wanted her to know how true those words were. She knew that tone and had this been a different conversation it would have sent a chill down her spine.

“I know I just-“ She started, but you cut her rambling off an eyebrow raise and your firm voice“Got jealous and thought that cutting your losses was better than coming to me,”

It was a rule in your relationship- communication was king. The only way things got done was if you talked about them. You talked through every aspect of your relationship, every like and dislike, every limit and desire. This situation broke every rule you had established and that didn’t sit well with you. You couldn’t be the only one initiating (or trying to), she had to do it too (especially if she was uncomfortable with something) for this whole thing to work. It scared you a little that she had just shut down and run off to Lindsey.

Emily nodded slightly, staring a hole in your shirt.

“I thought you had moved on already,” She mumbled.

You stood from the bed, gently using a finger to tilt her head so you could look her in the eyes. You raised an eyebrow. “So you got cozy with Lindsey to make me feel as jealous as you were and then wouldn’t respond to me as punishment?”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would hurt less,” She mumbled, captivated by your y/e/c eyes and the little swirl of deeper emotion hidden inside.

You nodded. stepping closer so your noises were almost touching and gently grasping her shoulders. “I love you Emily Ann Sonnett, even when you’re being a dumbass and ghosting me,”

She could feel your breath fanning over her lips, only adding to the weight of your words.

“I love you too,” Emily said, and you could see the truth to her words in her blue eyes.

You smirked. “I know,”

You leaned down and finally connected your lips. She grabbed your collar and pulled you closer, pouting all of her emotions into the kiss, trying to show you how much she loved you and how sorry she was for hurting you.

Your lips moved together in a very familiar dance, slow and full of all of the emotions between you. At some point, you had flipped the two of you around so Emily was seated on edge of the bed. You pulled back and began to trail kisses down your girlfriend’s neck.

She tilted her head to give you more room, sighing and moaning as you trailed your way down her chest, stomach, and thighs, placing kisses as you went until you were kneeling between her legs. Your fingers toyed with the waistband of her pants, an annoying cocky smirk plaster on your face when she whined that you were going too slow.

“No, no baby girl. We’re going to work on your communication skills, so I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me exactly what you want,”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagine

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cycreekpest · 6 months

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Houston mosquito control

Cycreek Pest Control excels in Houston mosquito control, employing effective strategies to eliminate and prevent mosquito infestations. With a focus on customer satisfaction, our skilled professionals utilize advanced techniques to create a mosquito-free environment. We understand the importance of safeguarding homes and businesses from these disease-carrying pests. Trust Cycreek Pest Control for comprehensive mosquito control solutions tailored to Houston's unique needs. Visit cycreekpestcontrol.com for more information on our services.

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catchyoulaterhotdog · 3 years

Text

In Defense of Bobby Wilson

Bobby centered fic with a slight hint of rebby/boggie. Word count: 1306

WARNING: QUICK HOMOPHOBIC SLUR AND DISCUSSIONS OF DEATH

You know there’s a feeling you can’t quite describe.

A gaping hole in your chest, something irreplaceable. Death is a weird thing. Something is just...suddenly out of existence. It’s just gone. And you can’t do anything about it. No take backs, no redoes, you’re out of lives. It’s just Over. The worst part about it is that it can happen so suddenly. To anyone. Anywhere. Anytime.

It’s not a feeling you think about often. One he didn’t anyways, until you experience it. Bobby didn’t like to think about death. He didn’t like to think about things being Permanent. It’s something he always tried to ignore. He lived life in the fast lane. Lived it like it was now or never. He didn’t always think about the consequences of his actions and didn’t worry about the last words he spoke to someone because he’d see them once more.

Until he didn’t.

Bobby Wilson’s life was turned upside in one night and not in the way he had initially expected. It was the night. The night that was going to change their lives. They were gonna be legends! Hell, they kind of were. But not in the way Bobby had ever expected.

Reduced to a tragic news article.

And people moved on. They were sad for a few days and then they had the luxury of suddenly no longer giving a shit. Acting like this..this hadn’t changed the entire course of everything Bobby had ever known.

Like Bobby’s whole world hadn’t been ripped clean out of his hands.

His best friends, gone without a chance to say goodbye. No one understood. No one understood why he couldn’t look at a hot dog and not want to sob his eyes out. Why listening to Whitney Houston felt like a punch in the gut. Why he could never pick up another red flannel again. Why an orange beanie made him go pale in the face. No one fucking understood.

What it was like.

To have everything completely gone in a matter of one night. A set of monumental hours. What it’s like to just have seen your best friends and for them to just. Not exist anymore.

When you had just spent hours reassuring a pink hoodie clad boy that he was going to do amazing the night before. When you had stolen his drumsticks and ran around the room, making sure you got laughter out of the tallest of the bunch, making sure his nerves fluttered away like butterflies and his eyes crinkled up into a smile that made life worth living.

When you just held a puppy reincarnated as a man in your arms, reassuring him that his parents would finally see the worth in music. That life was going to pick up from here, and they were going to play the song they’d slaved over for forever. Letting his friends' words out into the world so everything left unspoken finally got said out loud. That Emily would understand. That his home didn’t have to be Bobby’s dingy little loft anymore.

When you had been hyping yourself up to ask out the beautiful boy all fucking night, the one with raven hair and dark emerald eyes who lights up your world like no one else can. When you were just holding him a few nights before everything went down, singing soft words and comforting him down from the loud yelling he’d just run from.

When they were suddenly all gone.

All of them. Three of them, in one fucking fell swoop.

In what world was that fair? What on earth had Bobby done? To deserve something like this. To have this guilt that eats away at him, picking the skin from his limbs and deserting him to the bone.

That night. They believed he had abandoned him to flirt with some random girl. Saying he didn’t eat hot dogs, couldn’t kill an animal. When really he was planning out the perfect way to ask his best friend out. To have the perfect end to a perfect night.

He should’ve chickened out. Because at least then he’d be at their side.

But no. Bobby is here right now, the one sole survivor. The angry man who hid pain behind walls he’d spent nights building while going through remnants that remained.

He remembers the first time he lashed out. He was in the hall, retrieving something from his locker when he heard a group of boys talking. Gossiping. They were amongst those who could just move on. Who couldn’t see Bobby crumbling as they laughed and joked. One of them had the audacity to say “Well that faggot got what he deserved in the end anyways.”

Bobby had tapped the guy’s shoulder, and he didn’t even think before his fist was flying through the air.

That event was just the tiny snowball that started it all. It got it rolling down the hill, collecting more and more snow along the way before it was out of Bobby’s control and causing more damage than he ever thought possible.

Fighting, yelling, screaming, kicking and punching, it provided a small amount of relief. It was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening with bloodied knuckles and a head pounding. He had so much pent up anger and guilt and no where to put it because the therapist didn’t understand and his parents didn’t understand and no one fucking understood!

Little things would set him off and the sickening crunch of someone’s nose was the only thing that provided his flooded mind with relief for even just a minute. A second to breathe, a reprieve, one Bobby so desperately desired.

But as punches were thrown and grades dropped and clocks ticked by, the inevitable was still true. While Bobby was caught in the past, the boys were gone and the world was still turning around him. Soon he was forced to look at college applications and make the permanent decision of what his future should be.

But Bobby didn’t have one. He wasn’t Alex with his words. Able to write the most eloquent of essays in a matter of a short hour and wasn’t the respectable boy who had a future cemented in stone. He wasn’t Reggie, quick with numbers and a brain that he’d never understand. Reggie who pretended to be oblivious but could sniff out what was going on in any situation without you even knowing. Or charming Luke, who could wiggle his way into anything, who took action and was beloved. He didn’t have a future.

The only thing he had was music and he thought there was no hope.

With the pressure of his parents to pick something and the deadlines coming closer and closer to apply and the threat of a college debt he’d never pay off because he was bound to wind up working a minimum wage job and be miserable for the rest of his fucking life.

Bobby was left in a vulnerable state, dropped into a ditch dug so deep that he could no longer tell if the sky was something he imagined or if it had always been that dark.

So when a man with a smile and a promise of a future offered the solution to Bobby’s problems, he was easily swayed.

The price of a few songs that would never have seen the light of day and maybe the possible chance of honoring his friends in his own quiet way, as long as he promised to change his identity and pretend they were his, to have something to live for once again. Well..how could Bobby Wilson refuse?

So he signed the contract.

And in doing so he cemented a guilt he never could’ve thought imaginable.

Not until three boys appeared on the Orpheum stage next to a one Julie Molina, anyways.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #my fic #bobby wilson #boggie #jatp ficlet #oneshot #julie and the himbos #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex mercer #angst #bobby angst #my boy #bobby jatp #trevor wilson

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btsrunmylife · 3 years

Text

“The Library Keepers: Jamais Vu” - Chapter 1: Planet X

Word Count: 3,712

Genre: Sci-Fi / Fantasy / Action / Adventure / Humor

Rating: Explicit…eventually

Summary: After two years of being stationed on Space Station Baldur, you’re not really expecting anything exciting to happen anymore. With little by the way of scientific discoveries, you and your team are getting a bit restless. Sent out on “special assignment” with Mission Specialist Kim Namjoon, you really aren’t expecting to find (or even see) much of anything.

What you do find is something beyond what either of you could’ve imagined.

Back | Next

The silence is deafening, ringing loudly in your ears, as you try to see a few feet in front of you. The ship’s lights have gone dark, leaving you with nothing but the stars shining through one of the portholes to light your way.

You blink, taking stock of yourself. You wiggle your fingers, still clenched tightly around your safety belt. You shrug your shoulders, roll your neck, do a mental check of your chest, your nervous and fluttering stomach, your waist. You shift in your seat, experimentally stretching your legs and flexing your toes.

The next thing you do is reach for the helmet hanging to the right of your seat, blindly groping the wall until you find the latches holding it there. You tug it down from the wall and secure it over your head, attaching it to your suit. You reach for an oxygen tank next, practiced hands attaching the hose to your helmet.

Once situated with your oxygen tank turned on, you switch on the little flashlight attached to your helmet, glancing down at yourself.

You’re still strapped in your seat. Nothing seems to be broken. There are no holes in your suit, nothing holding you down except for the safety belts.

But something’s different.

You glance around you, the aircraft’s aisles free of clutter thanks to how well you strap things down in zero gravity.

Gravity.

Experimentally, you reach for another one of the helmets, unhooking the latches and allowing them to fall away.

They fall.

They don’t float.

The helmet clatters to the ground with a loud bang.

“Specialist?”

You startle at the voice in your headset. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Namjoon?”

You hear him sigh. “Good, you’re okay.” A pause. “You are okay, right?”

“I think so?” you question, patting yourself down. Your stomach is a little iffy and you’re pretty sure you peed a little, but you’re...yeah, you’re okay. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he confirms, a rustling sound coming from somewhere up front. “I think...we should...I mean--”

“Namjoon, what happened?”

There’s a prolonged silence, one that leads you to think things are really not as okay as he says they are.

“Joon?”

“We -- we crashed,” he mutters, sounding a little astonished.

“Into what?” You’re dumbfounded. The only thing for miles is stars. Stars and space rock, just like you told your commander. How in the hell did you crash?

When Mission Specialist Kim Namjoon doesn’t answer, you grind your teeth together. “Joon?”

“Come see for yourself.”

You have a feeling, a sinking feeling that starts in your chest and drops all the way down into your stomach. Your stomach rolls and you have to fight down the bile in your throat. You don’t like the sound of his voice, don’t like the fact he won’t tell you what’s going on. You don’t like not knowing if your life is in danger or not.

Part of you doesn’t want to know what you’ll find when you get to the front of the ship. The other, the scientist in you that is always curious, is dying to know.

You quickly undo the straps holding you down and get to your feet, a little unsteady after so long of being in zero gravity. The floor of the ship feels weird beneath the soles of your military-grade boots, heavy in a way you’ve been mostly unfamiliar with for the past two years.

You give yourself a moment to adjust. Your entire body feels heavy and when you move to put the oxygen tank on your back, that feels heavy too.

You grip the straps of your tank tightly, nervously, as you slowly make your way to the front. The ship really isn’t that long, only having enough space to hold up to four people at a time with enough storage space for a short trip away from the station. But it still takes you a minute or two to get from one end to the other, passing by the little sleep pods on either side of you, meant more for convenience than comfort.

When you reach your colleague, you notice that he, too, has donned his helmet and oxygen tank and is staring out the front window. He doesn’t turn to you as you approach, although you’re sure he can hear you coming, and when you step up behind him you see why.

In front of you, glowing under the light of a moon is a hill covered in what appears to be grass and flowers. Instead of green, the grass gives off a bluish, purple hue and looks almost cottony. It bounces and shifts, as if swaying in a breeze. The flowers’ stems stretch and weave high into the sky, as high as some of the tallest sunflowers back home. Their petals are a deep purple and appear larger than your hands, each flower having at least seven petals that stretch into a trumpet shape, with red stigmas sticking out of the center.

An excitement you haven’t felt in the two years on the space station tickles at your chest, fingers itching to reach out and touch. To see if they’re really as soft as they appear. To see if they contain similar genetics to the plant life back home.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, enamored.

“Yeah,” Namjoon sighs.

“We should—“ You start turning toward the door, but Namjoon grabs your arm. As you shift on your feet, you notice the unsteadiness of the ground beneath you. It sways.

The two of you pause, looking at each other in mild panic before you’re carefully approaching the front of the ship. You lean a little closer to the control panel, aiming the flashlight on your suit directly in front of your spacecraft. There, just underneath you, is a pool of deep green. Little flecks of iridescent particles float across its surface, sharp rocks sticking out of the water in front of you, just offshore.

Your eyes widen.

“We should call this in,” Namjoon finishes your previous thought.

You feel your cheeks flush, suddenly thankful for the tinted visor of your helmet, because you hadn’t even thought of that. “Right, yeah.”

Namjoon laughs softly and sits back down in his chair, a little clumsy due to the gravity and the unsteadiness of the craft, and presses a few buttons on the dashboard. He frowns when nothing clicks on, hits another button, and tries again.

The spacecraft remains eerily silent and you glance toward the oxygen reader on the wall, still displaying a steady 93%, but no longer ticking.

There’s another sinking feeling in your stomach. “Joon?”

He’s silent for a moment, gloved hands flexing over the controls. “Our communication systems must have been impacted by the crash. We’ll need to check the rest of the ship for damage too.”

You nod stiffly. You’ve trained for this, gone through extensive procedures so both of you know exactly what to do in situations like this, but you still feel like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.

Yes, you’d wanted to discover something -- and you’re still dying to step out of this spacecraft and get a sample from those flowers -- but what’s a discovery without anyone to report it to? What if you can’t get the comms up and running and you never make it back to Baldur?

Namjoon must sense your mounting panic somehow, because he gets to his feet and squeezes your shoulder, the pressure light through your suit. “It’ll be okay. We have extra oxygen tanks if we need them. We have enough food to last us a few days if we portion it out. If they don’t hear back from us by then, they’ll send someone.”

Right, yeah, totally. His logic makes sense.

You offer a tight-lipped smile you know he can’t see and pat his hand. “Right. You get to work on the comms. I’ll go check the engines.”

“Okay,” he takes a step back from you, watching as you turn toward the back of the ship. “And Specialist?”

You turn your head. “Mm?”

“Be careful.”

Your lips quirk into a smile. “Aren’t I always?”

Houston, think we got some problems, find somebody who can solve ‘em 🎵

You groan to yourself as the song pops into your head unbidden, tossing away the pliers you’d been trying to fix the ship with. Although the engines are fine, the rest of the ship seems to have suffered from the crash and you’ve been trying to get things up and running again for the past few hours. But no amount of tweaking of wires or reconnecting power boards would work, and you have the sinking suspicion that whatever body of liquid you’d landed in was responsible.

You feel yourself starting to sweat so close to the heat of the engines and adjust the temperature with a dial inside your suit. The suits really weren’t designed for comfort -- not really -- but the ones you wear now are lightyears more comfortable than the ones you used to wear, material much more pliable and accepting of movement. You remember the ones you wore during training, so stiff and heavily insulated you could barely breathe. You’d sweat a lot during those days, practically baking under the hot lights of the training station.

These are much better, making repairing the ship more manageable, but no easier.

You huff and push to your feet, dusting yourself off. You’re still not sure what to make of this whole gravity thing, your legs feeling weak after not carrying your weight for so long. You’re also finding yourself having to readjust, so used to handling tools and manipulating wires mid-float. The mere weightiness of everything is a shock to your system.

You press the button for your comms. “Joons?”

A crackle of noise, then, “Go ahead, Specialist.”

You steel yourself. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Silence, a sigh, and then, “I have some bad news too.”

Your heart sinks. “The comms?”

“Yeah, they’re completely dead. No power source at all. What’d you find?”

“Well,” you breathe out slowly. “The engines are fine--”

“That’s great!”

“--but the mainframe was damaged in the crash. It might be repairable, but--”

“But it’s beyond your expertise,” he finishes for you, voice conveying his disappointment.

“Unfortunately.”

The two of you settle into a silence that’s weighed down by the severity of your situation. Your mind races for a solution. You wish you had paid more attention in your tech classes, wish you had read more manuals and studied the schematics of these things a bit more. You wish you were more prepared than this.

“Joonie?” you ask, your voice so quiet you’re not sure he hears you.

“Yeah?”

“What are we going to do?”

You’re not sure he has the answers. You’re not sure there is a good answer. Stuck on an unfamiliar planet with no way to contact the space station, your options are rather limited.

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “I guess we wait it out, hope that someone comes looking for us.”

His solution doesn’t comfort you. In fact, it does the opposite. You’re not so sure just waiting around is a good idea. You could be waiting for a while before anyone decides to send out a search party, let alone find a planet you didn’t know existed.

“Okay,” you agree, but only because there’s not much else you can do. Namjoon might not know entirely how to fix the situation, but he’s still the Mission Specialist and, therefore, the leader of your excursion.

Pushing away the doubts eating away at you, you try to remain optimistic as you head back into the Navigation Bay. As you pass by the sleeping pods, you glance at the frozen oxygen reader on the wall, still reading a firm 93%. You’re not so sure anymore whether you can trust it, knowing how finicky the tech gets without a steady stream of power.

You pause before you can make it to Navigation, bending at your knees and crouching over. You pull your arms from inside your sleeves and bury your face in your hands inside your suit, pressing firm fingertips to your eyes as they begin to sting.

You can’t cry. You won’t.

Your suit isn’t meant for crying and you need to conserve oxygen.

Even telling yourself this, you feel the tears slide down your cheeks. You sniff and swipe at them, feeling your heart ache in a way you don’t let it very often.

For the first time in two years, you find yourself wanting to go home. You want to be curled up in a nice, comfortable bed, surrounded by the softest sheets and fluffiest pillows. You want to be sipping from a soothing cup of tea or a nice glass of wine. You don’t want to be stuck alone in space, with no idea of when or how or even if you’re going to get home.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and startle, swiping furiously at your eyes and moving to get up. Namjoon tsks into your comms and eases you back down, wrapping his long arms around you. The hug is awkward and not at all as comforting as he probably intends, helmets bumping and suits crinkling, but it’s nice. It’s nice because you know you’re not entirely alone. It’s nice because you know you have Namjoon.

For the time being, it’s enough.

A faint breeze sways the trees, disrupting the long, blue, tail-like branches and making their fan-shape crowns shutter. You listen in awe to the sound they make, like little fountains of water clattering to the ground. A faint whistle floats through the air as the thin wisps of leaves lift from the ground and reach with the wind, stretching and swaying through the air. Your body yearns to feel it softly kiss your skin like the sweet ether of earth.

You want to taste the air on your tongue, the way you would back home. Would it contain salty undertones like the air near the ocean? Or would it taste sour, sweet, or even foul? You’re curious, but not yet willing to take the risk of removing your helmet. You’re not sure whether the air here is breathable or, better yet, whether any of the flora and fauna you’re observing is poisonous. Although seemingly earth-like in composition, you have yet to actually test the biology of anything, most of your equipment still waiting for you on Space Station Baldur.

In the three days you’ve been on Planet X, as Namjoon has begun referring to it, you have yet to see or hear any signs of a rescue crew. The skies, a brilliant shade of green and deep blue, are quiet, barren apart from the smattering of stars and the oblong moon, tinted blue through the planet’s atmosphere.

With Planet X’s crust and stratosphere so much closer to the galaxy overhead, the stars appear brighter and bigger, with the climate being significantly cooler than the earth’s surface. Interestingly, you’ve noticed that the plant life compensates for this and, as you run your gloved hands over the branches and leaves of the trees, you feel a significant heat radiate from them. You know of plants back home that generate heat like this, like the Eastern skunk cabbage and Voodoo Lilly, but the few that do only do so to promote flower pollination. Without ample time to observe the vegetation on this planet and their life cycles, you’re only left to wonder whether their heating mechanisms are for pollination or for surviving in such cool temperatures.

“Specialist?”

You touch your hand to your comms, thankful that at least some of your tech is still working, even if it sometimes fritzes out and all you hear is static. “Yeah, Joon?”

“I think a storm is brewing on the horizon.”

You glance in the direction the ship is angled and search the skies. Sure enough, a tumultuous cloud is looming closer, strong gusts of winds bending flower stems and tree trunks to the ground.

You let out a little sigh as your little excursion, the furthest you’ve dared to venture out, is cut cut short and quickly pack up the small case of samples you’ve been collecting. Recycling used food containers, you’ve managed to collect close to fifteen samples of local organisms so far. Although you have nothing to examine them with yet, you hold out hope that a ship will arrive for you soon.

After all, they had to have noticed you’ve gone dark by now, that you’re no longer locatable through your ship’s GPS. Surely they’ve realized something is wrong.

Pushing the thoughts aside, you quickly board Mikrocosm, the ship having drifted with the currents of the lake you’d landed in and washed ashore early on your second day here. As is routine by now, you store your case of samples in a little nook just outside the decompression chamber before stepping inside. The outer door shifts closed behind you and you begin the process of decontamination, spraying yourself top to bottom with a hose attached to the wall. A fan kicks on, controlled from inside the ship, and dries you as the foreign air surrounding you is vacuumed out of the bay. Once finished, the inside door hisses and unlocks, allowing you to walk through to meet Namjoon on the other side.

The muffled, filtered breathing of your colleague greets you and he motions you further into the ship, handing you a pouched protein drink. Relief washes over you as you sink into your seat in the Navigation Bay, kicking your feet up on the control panel that’s currently rendered useless.

Namjoon glares at your mostly clean boots on his equipment, but doesn’t say anything as he hooks his own protein shake to a tube in his suit, hands disappearing inside to no doubt attach the other end to his mouth.

“Anything interesting today?” he asks, words muffled around the tube he’s placed between his teeth, maneuvering one arm back into his sleeve to release the clamp on his feeding tube.

“Nothing new,” you sigh, following suit and getting your meal prepared. Running low on supplies, the two of you had begun rationing things out even more, only allowing yourselves one protein shake a day with drinks of water in between. The nutritionist in you knows the dangers of such a restrictive diet, but any more and you’d surely run out before help comes.

If it comes.

Your eyes drift to the oxygen reader on the wall, still frozen on 93%. The sight doesn’t render you broken the way it had when you’d first arrived, but it still makes your heart trip unsteadily every time you see it. It serves as a stark reminder that your lives have come to a screeching, unsettling halt that’s almost completely out of your control.

A rumble rolls through the planet’s atmosphere, shaking the ground beneath you, and your gaze shifts to the oncoming storm. You know very little about the planet you’re on, including what you should expect from those dark, foreboding clouds.

The sound of rain hitting metal echoes through the room and you glance above you, hoping your ship is strong enough to withstand whatever is falling from the sky. Judging by what little you do know of weather on earth, you think the lake your ship crash landed in is a good indication that whatever this planet’s rain is made of, at least, won’t melt it.

You hope.

“It’s green,” Namjoon mutters, sounding a bit awed as he points a finger to the window. You follow his gaze toward the raindrops skittering across the plastic casing of your windshield, green rivulets flowing across the surface and sliding down.

“It’s pretty,” you comment, eyes moving from the drops to the moon beyond, slowly disappearing behind the storm clouds. You’re a little puzzled once it’s gone, still able to see just as clearly, and it takes you a moment to realize there’s other light sources on the planet.

The trees and grass you’d been so raptly examining slowly fade into light, like street lights flickering on at night, branches and stems glowing a delicate and muted green.

You purse your lips, moving your feet off the panel to sit forward in your seat and observe them. Even at night, the moon usually shined so brightly that you never noticed the plants’ luminescence before. You make a mental note of it, wondering if it has anything to do with the heat that radiates from them.

“Damn,” Namjoon breathes next to you, and you can only nod in response. Every moment you spend here is an adventure, something to be astounded or perplexed by.

You watch in silence as the flowers stretch with the wind, up toward the sky, trumpeted petals opening as if reaching for the nutrients the rain provides.

“Do they...seem alive to you?” you wonder aloud, the sight so similar to a pair of lips parting for food that it leaves you feeling a little uneasy.

Namjoon turns to you, is quiet for a moment, before you see his shoulders rise and fall. “I don’t know, maybe? It wouldn’t be so crazy, would it? We’re on an alien planet.”

Your lips twitch at his teasing tone. “True. I just--”

You pause, tongue coming out to wet your lips. It brushes the straw of your forgotten protein shake and you flinch back in surprise. You relax when you realize what it is and shake your head at yourself. You can’t help but be a little jumpy. Ever since you arrived on Planet X, you’ve felt like something was...off. Like there’s something more to what’s in front of you than what you see.

And, dare you admit, you feel like you’re being watched.

A sudden whirring sound jolts you from your thoughts and you spin around to face the wall. Your eyes scan the area in front of you, unable to find the source of the noise until you spot movement out of the corner of your eye. Eyes shifting to the oxygen reader on the wall, you’re surprised to find that it now says 100%, the red needle shaking and quivering, as if trying to continue its ascent to a number that doesn’t exist.

“Uh, Joon?”

“Specialist, get down!”

__________________________

Back | Next (Ch. 2 Quolmians)

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #fanfiction #sci-fi #bts au fic #bts au #bts x reader #bts space au #alien bts au #btsrunmylife.story

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Wednesday, February 17, 2021

The winter storm (NYT) A sprawling storm dumped snow across much of the U.S., including areas that rarely get it. More than 6 inches fell on Austin, Texas—the most in 55 years. Millions of people are without electricity. The cold shattered longstanding records: Temperatures dropped to 17 degrees in Houston and to minus 38 degrees in Hibbing, Minn. At one point Monday, the Weather Service had winter storm warnings issued from Brownsville, Tex., along the U.S.-Mexico border to Caribou, Maine, a distance of more than 2,500 miles. Snow even accumulated on the beach in Galveston, a city where residents are far more accustomed to hurricanes than they are to wintry weather.

Millions endure record cold without power; at least 16 dead (AP) A winter storm that left millions without power in record-breaking cold weather claimed more lives Tuesday, including three people found dead after a tornado hit a seaside town in North Carolina and four family members who perished in a Houston-area house fire while using a fireplace to stay warm. The storm that overwhelmed power grids and immobilized the Southern Plains carried heavy snow and freezing rain into New England and the Deep South and left behind painfully low temperatures. Wind-chill warnings extended from Canada into Mexico. In all, at least 16 deaths were reported. The worst U.S. power outages were in Texas, affecting more than 4 million homes and businesses. More than 250,000 people also lost power across parts of Appalachia, and another quarter million were without electricity following an ice storm in northwest Oregon. Four million people lost power in Mexico. Utilities from Minnesota to Texas implemented rolling blackouts to ease the burden on power grids straining to meet the extreme demand for heat and electricity.

Pelosi says independent commission will examine Capitol riot (AP) House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said Monday that Congress will establish an independent, Sept. 11-style commission to look into the deadly insurrection that took place at the U.S. Capitol. Pelosi said the commission will “investigate and report on the facts and causes relating to the January 6, 2021, domestic terrorist attack upon the United States Capitol Complex … and relating to the interference with the peaceful transfer of power.” In a letter to Democratic colleagues, Pelosi said the House will also put forth supplemental spending to boost security at the Capitol. An independent commission along the lines of the one that investigated the Sept. 11 attacks would probably require legislation to create. That would elevate the investigation a step higher, offering a definitive government-backed accounting of events. Still, such a panel would pose risks of sharpening partisan divisions or overshadowing President Joe Biden’s legislative agenda.

Ambassador sweepstakes underway as figures jockey for plum posts (Washington Post) Harry M. Reid’s phone has been ringing a lot lately, with calls from interest groups, friends and potential candidates themselves, all craving one thing: an ambassadorship. The former Senate majority leader then picks up the phone and dials Steve Ricchetti, one of President Biden’s top advisers, who for months has been fielding requests for plum positions. “There’s very few political jobs that bring the dignity of being an ambassador for the United States to a country. It’s a very prestigious position,” Reid said. But he suggested the would-be envoys shouldn’t hold their breath: “I think with the impeachment going on and trying to get the Cabinet filled, I think people should be understanding that things are more important than the ambassadorship right now with the president.” It is a sweepstakes that comes along every four or eight years—intense jockeying in public and private as the well-heeled and well-connected seek coveted positions that come with lavish housing, a staff of chefs and an expectation that the U.S. envoy will put the digs to use for parties. With its mix of famous figures and exotic locales, the competition always attracts interest. But it is under more scrutiny than usual this year as Biden stresses his desire to repair international relationships that frayed under Trump, with ambassadors likely to play a key role in that effort.

A third party (Gallup) Americans’ desire for a third party has ticked up since last fall and now sits at a high in Gallup’s trend. Sixty-two percent of U.S. adults say the “parties do such a poor job representing the American people that a third party is needed,” an increase from 57% in September. Support for a third party has been elevated in recent years, including readings of 60% in 2013 and 2015 and 61% in 2017. Meanwhile, 33% of Americans believe the two major political parties are doing an adequate job representing the public, the smallest percentage expressing this view apart from the 26% reading in October 2013.

Kidnap capital Mexico eyes biometric phone registry, sparking privacy fears (Reuters) A plan by Mexican lawmakers to put millions of cell phone users’ data in a biometric registry, billed as a tool to fight kidnapping and extortion, has sparked a backlash from telecoms companies and rights groups who warn it could lead to stolen data and higher costs. Already approved in the lower house of Congress, the reform is in line with President Andres Lopez Obrador’s vow to counter crime using intelligence methods rather than force, but critics say it reveals the pitfalls of governments seeking to gather more citizen data for law enforcement purposes. Under the plan, America Movil, AT&T Inc and other carriers would be responsible for collecting customers’ data, including fingerprints or eye biometrics, to submit to a registry managed by Mexico’s telecoms regulator. But a telecoms industry group that counts some major companies as members warned in an open letter that the reform could increase phone theft as criminals look to get around the registry by stealing devices and could risk customers’ safety if personal data were misused.

As the virus crisis drags on, hard-hit French youth struggle (AP) On a recent evening, Leïla Ideddaim waited to receive a bag of food, along with hundreds of other French young people who are unable to make ends meet. She saw the chitchat that accompanied the handout as a welcome byproduct, given her intense isolation during the pandemic. The 21-year-old student in hotel and restaurant management has seen her plans turned upside down by the virus crisis. With restaurants and tourist sites shuttered and France under a 6 p.m. curfew, her career prospects are uncertain. Odd jobs that were supposed to keep her going during her studies are hard to come by. “I’m in a fog,” said Ideddaim, who moved to Paris last year and is now struggling to meet both her basic needs and her emotional ones. The pandemic has devastated economies the world over, pushing vulnerable people deeper into poverty or tipping some into it for the first time. In France, the economic fallout has weighed particularly heavily on young people—and their woes have only been compounded by disruptions to their studies and social interactions. Nearly a quarter of French young people can’t find work—two-and-a-half times the national unemployment rate and one of the highest in the European Union’s 27 nations. Many university students now rely on food aid and several organizations have rallied to meet the need.

Separatists grow majority in Catalonia despite Socialist win (AP) The pro-union Socialist Party claimed a narrow win in regional elections in Catalonia late Sunday, but the bloc of parties supporting secession by Spain’s northeastern corner widened their control of the regional parliament. The outcome confirms that pro-separatist sentiment has not waned despite the collective suffering of the COVID-19 pandemic and a frustrated secession bid in October 2017 that left several of its members in prison. Four years on, the wealthy region that has its own language spoken alongside Spanish remains divided down the middle by the secession question. However, it was not clear if the separatist parties would be able to overcome the in-fighting that has plagued their bloc since the dream of an easy breakaway from Spain proved elusive.

Moscow residents get the snow they longed for (Washington Post) The snow started falling late Thursday in Moscow, sticking to car windshields and hiding walking paths. By the time it was over on Sunday, parked cars were buried under heaps of snow. The weekend’s wintery blast was noteworthy even for the Russian capital. A year ago, as Moscow experienced its warmest winter in nearly 200 years of record keeping, Russians longed for the white covering that often makes January and February’s dark days appear brighter. This wallop caused more than 100 flights to be delayed or canceled as some residents traversed downtown in skis.

India arrests student activist (Foreign Policy) New Delhi police have arrested a 22-year-old activist for sedition after she shared and made edits to a document—a Google doc—shared by climate activist Greta Thunberg when she expressed her support for India’s farmer protests. The document provided background on the protests as well as providing advice on nonviolent actions to support the farmers. “The Indian state must be standing on very shaky foundations if Disha Ravi, a 22-year-old student of Mount Carmel college and a climate activist, has become a threat to the nation,” said P. Chidambaram of the opposition Indian National Congress.

India’s dramatic fall in virus cases leaves experts stumped (AP) When the coronavirus pandemic took hold in India, there were fears it would sink the fragile health system of the world’s second-most populous country. Infections climbed dramatically for months and at one point India looked like it might overtake the United States as the country with the highest case toll. But infections began to plummet in September, and now the country is reporting about 11,000 new cases a day, compared to a peak of nearly 100,000, leaving experts perplexed. India, like other countries, misses many infections, and there are questions about how it’s counting virus deaths. But the strain on the country’s hospitals has also declined in recent weeks, a further indication the virus’s spread is slowing. When recorded cases crossed 9 million in November, official figures showed nearly 90% of all critical care beds with ventilators in New Delhi were full. On Thursday, 16% of these beds were occupied.

Myanmar military guarantees new election; protesters block train services (Reuters) Myanmar’s military junta guaranteed on Tuesday that it would hold an election and hand over power, denied its ouster of an elected government was a coup or that its leaders were detained, and accused protesters of violence and intimidation. The junta’s defence of its Feb. 1 seizure of power and arrest of government leader Aug San Suu Kyi and others came as protesters again took to the streets and as China dismissed rumours spreading on social media that it had helped with the coup. As well as the demonstrations in towns and cities across the ethnically diverse country, a civil disobedience movement has brought strikes that are crippling many functions of government. The unrest has revived memories of bloody outbreaks of opposition to almost half a century of direct army rule that ended in 2011 when the military began a process of withdrawing from politics.

Defying Biden administration, Egypt again arrests relatives of Egyptian American activist (Washington Post) Egyptian security forces raided the homes of six relatives of an outspoken Egyptian American activist, arresting and imprisoning two cousins in defiance of calls by the Biden administration for the Egyptian government to improve its human rights record, rights advocates said Tuesday. The targeting of the relatives of Mohamed Soltan, a human rights defender based in Northern Virginia, marks the latest attempt by the government of President Abdel Fatah al-Sissi to silence its critics living abroad, according to political opponents of the former military chief. Sunday’s arrests came roughly three months after five of Soltan’s relatives were released from prison, days after Joe Biden won the presidency. They had been forcibly taken from their homes in June after Soltan filed a lawsuit in the United States against former Egyptian prime minister Hazem el-Beblawi for his role in inflicting torture on Soltan when he was imprisoned in Egypt. Biden highlighted the case during the presidential election campaign, tweeting that torturing Egyptian activists and “threatening their families is unacceptable.” He also warned of “no more blank checks for Trump’s ‘favorite dictator,’” referring to Sissi by a term that Trump once used for him. By going after Soltan’s relatives again, as well as the relatives of other foreign-based critics in recent days, the Sissi government appears to be challenging the Biden administration and its efforts to make human rights a foreign policy priority once again for the United States, activists and analysts said.

Zuma Risks Arrest After Defying South Africa Corruption Inquiry (NYT) Jacob Zuma, the former president of South Africa whose nearly decade-long tenure was tainted by breathtaking corruption scandals, refused to appear before an inquiry panel Monday, raising the possibility that he would be imprisoned for contempt. The panel’s leader, Deputy Chief Justice Raymond Zondo, said he was seeking an order from the Constitutional Court, the country’s highest court, that would “impose a term of imprisonment on Mr. Zuma.” Justice Zondo’s move catapulted the simmering theme of corruption during Mr. Zuma’s term, which lasted from 2009 to 2018, into a tense showdown over the accountability of the former president. His successor, Cyril Ramaphosa, has promised to purge the governing African National Congress of endemic problems of bribery and graft that have severely damaged its credibility in South Africa, one of the continent’s most important economic powerhouses. Mr. Zuma, 78, had been set to appear before the inquiry panel, the Commission on State Capture, starting Monday for a week of testimony about his role in the corruption. The former president sent a letter from his lawyers instead, arguing that he was not legally bound to appear.

#headlines #news

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ichliebepictures-blog · 4 years

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Tips to Help You Have the Best Sex Ever

Here are 7 hints to assist you with having the best sex ever. Before we start here however, I should send you out a wellbeing notice! On the off chance that you need mind blowing sex that will have your eyes jumping out of your head, in addition to other things, read on, however remember sex will never be the equivalent again. It will get energizing, insanely satisfying, delectably enticing and greedily spellbinding. Which, y'know, may require you to rests in an obscured space for a couple of hours a short time later. In the event that you are content with this, at that point let us steam directly on ahead.

7 hints to assist you with having the best sex ever:

1. Set yourself up! There are 2 different ways to set oneself up. One path is to get hot, bothered and come over all pointless, get totally over-energized and in result the sex endures all of 5 seconds! Another path is to utilize representation to be without a care in the world. Imagine engaging in sexual relations with your accomplice, yet observe yourself in charge, see your accomplice enjoying all that you do, picture the sex going on for whatever length of time that you need it to.

2. Foreplay! Presently in opposition to certain people groups confusions foreplay isn't a golf term (well the old ones are as yet the best), however a significant piece of sex. Sex can be dull as jettison water without getting your accomplice stimulated by foreplay. Discover what your accomplice enjoys, the erogenous zones that drive them wild, and get them explicitly charged.

3. For a man, to stop yourself rashly discharging, which rather puts a dampener on procedures, use places that doesn't give you an excessive amount of incitement. On the off chance that you get invigorated excessively, at that point Houston we have an issue, so discover a place that you realize you can keep control of yourself in.

4. Unwind! Try not to get on edge or irritable, sex is to be enjoyed and to mess around with. Try not to join such a lot of praise or significance to it. It is a basic, natural pleasure so treat it all things considered. When you figure out how to loosen up you will discover you become stud in the bedroom!

5. Talk and speak with your accomplice. You know the hottest piece of a human? What's more, no it isn't their rear or their long legs or their areolas! Their psyche, their mind. Alright, no sniggering at the back this is valid. The cerebrum can evoke such huge numbers of dreams and energizing situations for you to enjoy. Find a good pace your accomplice likes, when you get into their brain you can get them all the more explicitly energized on the grounds that you see how they work, how they click.

6. Use dreams. Discover every others dreams and act them out. Its various strokes for various people so you have to discover what truly makes your accomplice tick and follow up on it. What kind of dreams you may inquire? Hold up! The universes a major spot and there are beyond any reasonable amount to make reference to, who is to state what yours or your accomplices is, just in the openings of your brain will you know. Only a certain something; keep it lawful.

7. Live at the time when you are engaging in sexual relations. Enjoy your accomplices body, violate it, don't over think or speculate, sex is an animalistic pleasure that can be simply the best enjoyment ever on the off chance that you let yourself go. Try not to stress over execution, and it won't stress you. This is each of the a piece buddha like however evident no different.

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kspell09 · 4 years

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You are my rescue story

This morning I woke up with 'you are my rescue story' playing in my head. Today I felt different. Today I felt so full. Yesterday, I had confirmed with my boss that my last day would be April 30. I put in my notice last week after an overwhelming sense in my entire being that my time there was over. I had no plan. I had no job lined up. I just knew this was something I had to do. There wasn't any other option. Jesus had led me here. I have a desire to help children that have experienced trauma. I have a passion for learning about how trauma affects the brain and the body. I knew I was supposed to go back to school to learn more. But I had no plan. Coronavirus began taking over the news and chaos ensued around the world and my city as fear gripped people. But I had no fear. I had only peace. And now I was being called to quit my job in the middle of it. I knew it was time for me to surrender, to hand over the control and let Jesus change the direction of my life. I turned in my notice last week and my boss didn't accept it. I explained everything to him but I guess he thought I wasn't being serious. He told me we would talk on Monday. That was yesterday. When he called me into his office, I had no fear, only confidence. He basically told me I couldn't leave. We talked for a long time. But I did it. I didn't give in. I told him what Jesus wanted me to do was the only thing that mattered to me and I knew it didn't make sense to him but I had to leave. On the way home, I just felt so loved. I felt so special. Jesus just filled me up. I made a video to record how I was feeling. I had made several videos over the week to remind myself in the future why I did this. To show myself the confidence I had. The joy and peace I felt. As I watched the video, I got the overwhelming desire to share it on social media. I cried each time I watched it. But I didn't want to. It was mine. So this morning, I listened to 'Rescue Story' on my way to go run. It was like an echo of my own experience. I burst into tears thanking Jesus for rescuing me. For saving me from myself. For all that he has done in my life. I was reminded of so much of my story. He never gave up on me. These lyrics particularly hit home: 'Cause every time I ran away You were louder than my shame. And now where would I be without You? Where would I be, Jesus?' As I started running I kept thinking about the video again and then I started thinking about that pivotal point in my life where my faith grew exponentially and I knew I could trust him with anything. It seemed so long ago but it was actually only a couple months ago. It happened the day before my 33rd birthday. I knew this was going to be a big day for me leading up to it. I had experienced so much healing, so much growth over the last year. I finally let Adriel go after two long years, I made peace with so much of my past, I learned so much about myself, my brain and my body, my triggers, how to regain control of my nervous system when I was triggered and so much more. I had told the man who sexually abused me when I was just a young girl and so much more to finally leave me alone. I had been protecting him all these years. I never truly expressed any of the pain or the anger. I thought as a Christian I had to forgive. So that is what I did. I forgave him and allowed him back into my life only to seethe under the surface every time he contacted me. It wasn't real forgiveness because I had never expressed the anger within me. I covered it up like I thought I was supposed to. The day before my birthday, I received a birthday card in the mail from him. I knew it was his handwriting but I didn't open it. Like I was on autopilot I drove to the store to buy alcohol. I couldn't handle this. I told him to leave me alone. I just needed to black it out. After I had some alcohol I finally got the courage to open the card. He didn't write anything in it, he didn't sign it, it was a blank card with a fake 1000 bill with Trump's face on it. I felt so angry, so disrespected, so confused. Why couldn't he just leave me alone like I asked him to? And why this? I drank more. Eventually I called him. I let him have it. The alcohol had removed my inhibition. I told him how much I hated him. I told him how I wanted to hurt him. I told him I wanted him to die. All the rage, all the anger, all the pain, everything gushed out of me like a flood of hate. And then I drove to go get food. Stupid. And the next thing I knew I had crashed into a pole. I remember looking in the rear-view mirror, my head had hit the steering wheel and blood was gushing from my nose. As I looked at myself, blood covering my face, a lost look in my eyes, I just heard 'I'm with you. I'll never leave you' The next day was my birthday. Somehow I had gotten myself home, no one was injured, I wasn't in jail. I had to face what I had done in all its ugliness. I had to face the fact that I drank by myself to numb the pain when I know it never ends well. What about all the healing? What about all the growth? I had to face the fact that I called him and all the hateful things I had said. That was what 't-minus' Kelsye did. The Kelsye from college who, like a ticking time bomb, would lash out at whoever was there. And I had to face the fact that I drove drunk again. And I crashed. This wasn't my first drunk driving accident. Or my second. This was my third. The last one over ten years ago. I felt like a complete and total failure. I felt like the most selfish person on the planet. I could have killed someone, all for fast food. I could have killed myself. I could be in jail. And this time, there was no one else to blame. There was no one to point the finger at but myself. I could only blame myself. But I knew that Jesus was there. I remembered what he told my while I looked in the rear-view mirror. So I went to the only place I could go, his arms. And he held me. He let me know how much he loved me, even there. Even at my worst. He carried me through it and somehow it didn't crush me. And my faith and trust in him grew like never before. That was just a few weeks before I was supposed to leave for Israel. I was terrified to go on this trip even before this happened. Me and over fifty other people that went to Houston's First. Me, the one who just crashed her vehicle into a pole drunk. It was so bad I didn't even have my car back before I left for the trip. But he continued to carry me through and somehow I went. And I met some amazing people. And I clung to him like never before. Little by little I opened up. I let people in. I got honest. I learned more about Jesus. I experienced Jesus like never before. And I got a glimpse of what it was like to do life with his people. It was incredible. I came back to Houston and I had a rough time adjusting. Everything just seemed so different. And now I've just quit my job to follow Jesus. I have no clue what is in store for me. I have no clue what is next. Right now I just know that I had to share this story. I had to share the truth. I'm terrified to share this, scared of what people will think of me or how they will judge me but that is how I know it is something I must do. So here is the video of me after taking the step, full of love for him because he loved me first. He has shown me such incredible, amazing, completely undeserved grace. He truly is the God of all grace, mercy, compassion and so much love. He is so so good and exactly who he says he is. I don't have all the answers to all the questions out there, especially in this time of uncertainty, but I have experienced his amazing grace and unconditional love time and time again. He has shown me over and over that he meets us where we are, in the brokenness, in the sin, in all the ugliness and through it all he has shown me a glimpse of who he really is, who I am in him, and that I can trust him with everything, even when it doesn't make sense.

vimeo

I can trust him from kelsye spell on Vimeo.

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techloser · 5 years

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ic drabble ( @nasabred , chris )

It had been a long time since Jensen hacked into NASA’s systems to talk to Beck. They’d given him official clearance two months after it was discovered their man on Mars was still alive. Watney. His name was Watney. Jensen was on the verge of telling Beck. That guilt was visible every time they spoke, which was understandable. He couldn’t imagine losing one of his team and if he had the opportunity to go back and rescue them? He wouldn’t even think twice. Jensen would do it in a heartbeat. But by some miracle someone actually managed to kick him out of the system. This was followed shortly thereafter by a meeting in Houston.

To his surprise Clay was already sitting in one of the super important offices looking like his kid just got picked up by the cops. Jensen flashed an awkward smile. If he had a leg to tuck between his legs he would’ve. The mission director warned that they’d figured out who was hacking the systems. No charges were being pressed for the simple reason that absolutely nothing Jensen had done was harmful. Whenever possible he’d get with IT to try building something safer. More bulletproof. First, however, they needed to come to an agreement. Jensen couldn’t spill the beans on Watney because Mission Control didn’t want the team doing anything stupid with their limited resources.

The agent’s voice was hoarse by the time he left that office. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so blind with fury.

Seeing Beck again, two months later, helped alleviate some of that. Also helped that they were now allowed to talk without looking over their shoulders, so to speak. Time apart helped Jensen understand what exactly was happening with his heart. He liked Beck. Really genuinely liked the other. The good doctor was intelligent, funny, selfless, and fun to talk to. He had no problem dealing with Jensen’s quirks. Even better, there were times when Chris threw jabs right back.

Lately, their conversations took a more somber turn. Some of that twinkle out of the astronaut’s eyes had dulled. Part of it could be the extended stay in space, sure. But Jensen worried there was more going on. Space meant limited supplies across the board. Food, water, oxygen, and parts. He understood all too well that technology required a lot of love and care.

“ I saw a shooting star last night and thought of you, “ the agent blurts without meaning to. Cheeks instantly heat up. He decides it’s a great time to get a little more water. Since he’s actually in his own apartment for this particular call it’s as good an excuse as any to hide his embarrassment from the man on the other side of the call.

Beck, a panicked voice says from the other side of the line. Male, by the sounds of it. Which doesn’t exactly narrow down who it could be since Jensen doesn’t know much at all about the other members on the crew. Nothing he couldn’t get from their files, anyway. If it weren’t for the tone he would’ve stayed off screen so he didn’t intrude on the moment. But, that panic. On top of the knowledge that there’d been little problems here and there. Maintenance things from what he’d been told.

When the connection’s cut there’s a heavy weight in the pit of the agent’s gut. That tone. Beck’s recent behavior. Piece by piece a picture started to form. With each click his heart rate kicked up another notch,. Bad enough he admitted to himself he was in love with a space man. Now said sailor was in trouble and there wasn’t a damn thing Jensen could do from down on the ground. Ignorance is bliss, many say. Considering the things he did on the job he was inclined to agree but that didn’t stop him from thinking this situation was any different.

So, he opened his personal hacking program.

And set to work.

Security protocol had been kicked up several notches since the last time he’d attempted this. Then again, he’d also helped put a number of them in place so it was easy to navigate around them. As each minute ticked by his anxiety grew. Fingers shook, making it hard to type. Nausea churned in his stomach. Scenarios started running through his head from the technologically practical to the far reaches of sci-fi ridiculousness. There were several times he needed to walk away from his set up or risk putting his keyboard through one of his monitors What he found was not the light at the end of a tunnel. In fact, it looked like the tunnel caved in on itself and started filling with broken water lines. System failures everywhere he looked. What was still operational didn’t look like it would be for very long.

Emotion pushed Jensen from his seat. Disbelief. Fear. His whole body started to shake. It didn’t take long before he was down on his knees trying to suck down what air he could. Beck was dying and there wasn’t a fucking thing Jensen could do. They’d be lucky to make it back to Earth's orbit with any functioning systems at all. Fingers slide through bleach blonde locks. He doesn’t even realize he’s started pacing a line across his living room. “ Come home to me in one piece, Sailor. You better come home in one piece. “

#nasabred #drabble tbt.#💀 ✧ ･ﾟ : ft . chris beck / THREADS #long post cw #death mention cw

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