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lightaflaem · 2 months ago

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𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [𝐨𝐧𝐞]

content warnings: heavy gore, zombies, infectious disease, mentions of blood, hospitals, cheating, profanity, violence, usage of weapons and guns, mental health problems, implied anxiety attacks, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, protected sex

word count: 5.5k

summary: just when everyone thought that the flu-like virus which led to a global outbreak four years ago had finally settled down, a new variant struck that escalated rapidly and became out of control. with limited supplies and life at stake, you were left with no choice but to team up with your ex-boyfriend, oikawa tooru, to navigate and seek shelter.

keiya.speaks: this is an entry for @pixelcafe-network 's 2024 spooktober event 🎃

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You wished that all of this was just inside of your head.

You begged the ups that once you open your eyes, you’ll be in your favorite figs scrub suit, caressing your Beckman Coulter DxH 900 hematology analyzer, praying that the reagents would be enough for your hospital’s bed capacity as your laboratory supervisor forgot to place an order for this month’s supplies.

Or maybe wooing your Cobas e601, hoping that your quality control would be in the range of the mean so you would be able to run all your chemistry specimens smoothly. Maybe when you finally open your eyes, you’ll be back inside the laboratory, signing all your patients’ results as a Medical Laboratory Scientist.

However, when your eyelids unfolded and a baseball bat swung towards you that nearly grazed the tip of your nose, you were back in this stinking reality.

“I swear to fucking hell, Tooru, stop spinning the bat like that, you nearly hit me again!” you hissed, trying to avoid the piece of wood for the nth time. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the nip of skin that has been hanging around the bloody barbed wires wrapped around it for heavens knows how long and instantly, you felt your insides turning upside down, nearly throwing the acid of your stomach in disgust.

“Aww, chibi-chan is annoyed, you’re too cute to be annoyed. You can’t be annoyed at me, darling. You’re stuck with me.” Tooru smiled, his eyes turning crescents while grabbing a few cans of easy-open tuna paella and throwing it into the creaky shopping cart.

You’re back in this reality where everyone around you has turned into a living dead—basically zombies. People might think that this is just a foolish tale told by someone like you however, it wasn’t. When everyone thought that the Corona virus that set the world into a pandemic four years ago had ended, well it hasn’t really ended that well yet.

A new variant mutated and current vaccines didn’t work that much into protecting the people. Eventually. Everyone started getting sick again and the cases doubled, tripled, and continued proliferating like hell. Hospitals were full of patients with flu-like symptoms and quarantine was implemented once again. With the lack of research and scientific approach, never have you ever imagined that the simple flu virus that was once contained will mutate into something more damned, something more hellish—and that is taking over its host’s nervous system and respiratory tract, owning it completely just like the mad cow and rabies disease. At this point, you didn’t really understand it that much because there’s a lot of factors and unknown elements. With that, the once feared virus has already taken over the world again but this time, much worse than the first one.

Two weeks since the virus has flipped Japan 360 degrees, 14 days of being stuck to survive with Oikawa Tooru, your ex-boyfriend.

Shit happens for real, right? But when that menace, caramel-eyed, 6 footer guy who dragged his best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime, into his shenanigans suddenly showed up in your workplace with a bouquet of flowers 3 years after your break-up, you felt your blood boiling as the last thing you wanted to see is his face.

And another shit happens is that the very same day he showed his arrogant face to you, that’s also the day when the whole city went rabid and everyone suddenly started biting each other as the undead symptoms manifested in most of your emergency room patients. It was like a trigger that suddenly detonated, sending signals to all of the infected to attack.

That’s how you found yourself in an abandoned grocery, picking up some goods before you eventually hit the road to seek a temporary shelter while looking for a permanent one with your ex-boyfriend, who’s now taking advantage of the life or death situation to get closer to you once more.

“Phew, looks like we got everything we needed.”

Your gaze shifted to the items inside the cart. Canned goods, instant meals, protein bars, biscuits, some snacks, bottled waters that could probably last up to a few days depending on the consumption, energy drinks, basic medicine and first aid, batteries, ropes, some toiletries and personal necessities, and a box of condoms.

Box of condoms?

“Oikawa Tooru, you perverted sex animal!” you felt your face heating up despite the broken air conditioner kept on running, setting the whole area into freezing point.

Tooru was laughing his ass off as you picked up and threw the packets of rubber on his chest. He was bursting so much that he dramatically wiped his fake tears.

“We’re in the middle of a fucking apocalypse and you still have the time to pull shitty pranks just like that!” you exclaimed, face puffing in vexation. “If you don’t have a goddamn thing to do—”

“GRRAAAGH!”

“Fuck!”

A squeal leaped out of your mouth as you saw a flesh-rotting guy approaching Tooru from behind. It let out a deafening howl, echoing in the empty store. Its skin was pale, almost white with purple veins popping in its throat up to its face. The pieces of tissue that were decomposing and filled with maggots were falling into the floor, scattering everywhere. Eyes were bloodshot and scarlet red blood was pouring out of its mouth, approaching the both of you with speed. It can fucking run?!

In an instant, Tooru secured you behind his back and gripped on the bat’s handle with force. As the raving undead approached, he swung the piece of wood with full strength, leaving a huge missing chunk on the man’s head as the muscle flew away due to the impact. Blood spurted out everywhere and you could see pieces of its brain being tangled in the barbed wires. It fell on the ground convulsing before becoming motionless, indicating that it’s already finally dead again.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Tooru’s eyes landed on you, checking you from head to toe.

You were frozen in your place, still trying to comprehend what happened. It wasn’t the first time that you were attacked yet you could still feel your insides being scrambled whenever you’re placed in the exact situation. You felt like you’ll seriously never gonna get used to this scenario.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright. A-are you okay?” you questioned, meeting his brown orbs back. Tooru just laughed hysterically, pushing his hair back and settling the wood just above his shoulders.

“Of course! It’s the grand king after all.”

Piece of shit. You thought. He’s already 27 yet the silly nickname that he was given way back in his junior high volleyball days were still fixated on him. He’s a serious menace.

“C’mon, Iwa’s probably wondering why the hell we’re taking too long. As much as I wanted to say that we took this precious time to make out, I’d rather not.” he commented as he pushed the cart forward. You could see from his back how his gaze changed, sensing if there’s still a threat around you.

When the both of you exited the store, you were greeted by your two companies.

“Y/N! Are you alright?” Tobio hurriedly went towards you, examining your physical state. “We heard the noise from outside. We're ready to barge in, you know?”

“Oi. I’m here. Why didn’t you ask me too?” Tooru sniggered in annoyance as the black-haired man continued ignoring him as he was not existing at all. Of course, the former did not let it go and started a childish, rivalry eye to eye against each other.

It was just broken when Iwaizumi squeezed himself in between to check the items inside the cart.

“You guys forgot my snickers, you fuckers.” his forehead creased when he did not catch a glimpse of his favorite chocolate bar that he clearly instructed earlier. You mentally slapped your head as you realized it just now.

“Now Iwa-chan, this is not the right time to freaking enjoy a chocolate bar.”

“Shut the fuck up, you trash. I’ll stuff this cart into your mouth.”

“And I love you too, Iwa-chan!”

Both you and Tobio stood there with a facepalm on your faces as you watched the two best friends bicker with each other in the middle of goddamn ruins. Some people wouldn't be convinced that they have been friends since high school but they really are.

One of the few good things despite the catastrophe is that you somehow luckily ended up with the people you’ve already known. When your workplace turned into madness, Tooru and Hajime managed to pull you away from the crowd of insanity to hide and ended up escaping together safely to the hospital’s parking lot. However, little did the three of you know that there’s also a few undead lurking there. You felt the numbness taking over your body as you recognized some of them as your colleagues—Yamaguchi Tadashi, a nurse on the 6th floor and Sugawara Koshi, a pediatric resident. They were moving mindlessly, drool dripping on their lips as they no longer recognized their own self.

Before Tooru could drag you away from it, a familiar Suzuki Jimny in solid kinetic yellow stopped in front of you. The door flew open, revealing Kageyama Tobio, a phlebotomist and your college friend, screaming to the three of you to get inside the car.

And that’s how you ended up navigating the now ghost roads of Miyagi with these three. The first instinct is to drive to the government facilities in Tokyo to get help; however, it is nearly impossible to reach your destination when you’re unarmed, have no supplies, and do not know what terror lies ahead on those roads. Good thing is that there’s still electricity and water, however, cellular phone signals and wifi are now down so you couldn’t get any help through local authorities. With that, the three of you decided to stick with each other to gather and prepare everything you needed and move little by little at a time.

“Man, you seriously have horrible taste in color.” Tooru spoke to Tobio as he closed the door of his Suzuki Jimny, clearly provoking the younger one instead, all he received was a scoff, ignoring his remark.

“Tooru, stop it.” you berated your ex-boyfriend and blew you a kiss instead that made your eye roll heavenly.

In no time, you’re back on the road with Hajime driving, Tobio on the passenger seat, leaving you and Tooru in the backseat. Your itinerary for today is to find a house to stay in for a few days before finally driving out of Miyagi for good since the last house you went to got infested with undead.

Every night, you get nightmares from the images of the undead. Whenever you dream about it, it’s always detailed to the point that you could smell the malodorous odor of the rotting bodies. The terrifying screams were also echoing in your eardrums that sometimes sent a strike of headache on your head. But sometimes, you also dream about your life before all of this happens. Your happy life whom you’ve worked hard to achieve. Somehow, you managed to pull yourself together otherwise, you’ll lose your sanity and even worse, become one of the undead. However, you really don’t know how long you could still hold yourself in one piece.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Tooru managed to tickle your sides as your mind was hastily floating in cloud nine. You turned to him and saw his soft gaze locking on you. You noticed how his hazel hair that matched the color of his eyes is now cropped into a shorter one compared to its length when you were still dating him three years ago. He’s also wearing a graded specs now whom you did not recall him having one before. His pointed nose and chiseled jaw are now more prominent due to the weight and baby fats he lost. Arms and body became more muscular, skin got a little tanner than usual probably because of his training in Argentina as a professional volleyball player.

Tooru’s really handsome. He’s got the type of attractiveness where you’ll look over your shoulders to glimpse at him once again whenever he passes by. Despite his childish personality, he’s really kind and a gentleman that made him easy to penetrate inside the heart of his crowd. He’s got the aura wherein he can bring the best out of you when you’re with him. He's like the daylight you’ll see when you reach the end of the night sky.

Your relationship with him was stable. You fight but all the arguments are talked and reflected thoroughly. He always gives you whatever you want and need. Handles your tantrums very well and does not hold grudges against you or anyone else. He makes sure that he can show and make you feel all the love languages he could ever think of. He’s the best boyfriend and best friend you’ve ever had. It was so strangely stable to the point that you thought that he’s the one you’ll marry. However, when he accidentally left his phone in your apartment and you caught a glimpse of a contact with a picture of a girl asking if he had fun last night with her on his text messages, your dream of marrying him and being each other’s end game shattered.

He tried calling and chasing you for almost a week after that but you didn’t give him a chance to explain, knowing that only bullshit will come out of his mouth after he blatantly cheated on you just like that. After that, the only news you heard about him is that he’s flying to Argentina to turn his dreams into reality of becoming a professional volleyball player. He never tried contacting you again after that, not even once.

Three years later, he finally achieved his dreams as he’s all over the news as the best setter CA San Juan has ever had and now he’s suddenly back as if nothing happened between the two of you, alive and kicking.

“Nothing, just tired.” you lied, not having any energy left to converse with him. You felt a calloused, warm hand placed above your left elbow, thumb caressing your skin. Your eyes flew and saw Tooru’s bruised and wounded hand attempting to soothe yours. “What the hell—”

“It’ll be alright, Y/N. I promise you. We’ll get through this, just like we always have.” he left out a soft yet reassuring smile before releasing your arm. You don’t know why but you felt like a hope ignited inside you. A sense of solace hit as you felt that Tooru never once had second thoughts in you.

You find yourself erupting a small smile. There’s indeed hope despite the darkest times.

Standing in front of a 2-storey modern house, you clutched your baseball bat as you prepared yourself for a possible undead atack. It wasn’t that big but it’s enough for a family of three to live in. The exterior has a monochrome color palette with wooden doors and tinted glass windows that reflect your worn out states. It also has a balcony that has a few clothes hanging on the railing.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Hajime looked up at the towering building.

“I hope so.” Tobio answered, leading towards the door.

Slowly, Tobio twisted the automated door knob that surprisingly opened without any difficulty. The four of you exchanged looks, swallowing the balling lump in your throats as you set a foot inside the house. You were greeted by an eerie silence upon entering the abandoned house. It was decorated with lavish interiors and monochromatic palette, matching with the exteriors. The floor is made with oak wood and the walls are marble that added extra fire to the aesthetics. The second floor has a bathroom, one master bedroom, a guest room with two beds and a balcony that faces the streets. Overall, it’s a nice house and seems like the owner is well-off based on their residence.

Hajime and Tooru checked the second floor and found nothing but a few pieces of clothes that seemingly belonged to a man. However, inside the closet of the master bedroom, they found a leather bag of guns, ammunition and a copy of the firearm’s registration. You were not knowledgeable that much in firearms but you immediately recognized AK-47, M16, and the famous Smith & Wesson Model 27 that you once saw in the anime Banana Fish.

“Damn, so those really exist in real life.” Tooru made an exaggerated comment as the weapons were carefully being laid in the long coffee table by Tobio.

“We’re already in an apocalypse, you shithead. Guns like these are more realistic than this fucking hell situation.” Hajime retorted, blood is always boiling at his best friend’s idiocratic remarks.

“Let’s just keep these in one place and take it once we’re moving away. For now, let’s stick with our current weapons so we can utilize everything at once.” you proposed, earning quick nods from the boys.

“Ah, my darling is so clever! Come and give me a hug.” attempting to cage you in his chest, you quickly dodged your ex-boyfriend's arms and pointed the baseball bat a few inches away from his face.

“Don’t you dare touch me, Oikawa.”

“Why? You loved my touches. You were begging for my touch—”

“Shut it!”

You shused him by swiftly covering his mouth with your right hand. You could feel his lips twitching against your touch, eyes forming a curve as he smiled infuriatingly.

“Love birds, take your business upstairs. Me and Tobio will share the guest room, the two of you in the master bedroom so you can make peace with your demons. Don’t think of bitching up because I ain’t taking any shit today.” Hajime firmly said before grabbing the weapons one by one to store them in the small compartment under the coffee table. You felt your face being flushed with much embarrassment as the two guys witnessed your bantering. Tobio was about to appeal but he met the death stare of Hajime, making him pursed his lips.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you shared a room with your ex-boyfriend. The whole 14 days with him, you either get your own space or share a room with all of them. That's why your vital organ is now leaping so hard that it might jump out of your ribcage.

After arranging and dividing the supplies so that it can last for a few days, the four of you improvised a barricade on the door and covered the window so that you wouldn’t see the streets outside that holds a few abandoned cars, splurt of blood on the road, decomposing human pieces, and some bodies that are unrecognizable.

Seeing the first-aid kit that you grabbed earlier in the kitchen counter, the memory of Tooru’s wounded and bruised hand suddenly flashed in your mind. Without a second thought, you found yourself getting ice from the functional freezer and wrapping it in a clean cloth before wetting the piece of fabric so that the cold temperature could easily penetrate. In no time, you were now standing in front of the master’s bedroom, slowly peeking to see if Tooru’s awake.

You saw him sitting on the edge of the bed that is facing the door, clutching a polaroid film in his hand. His face is blank yet a void of sadness was swarming in his brown eyes as he sighed and kept the picture back in his wallet. Your lips parted as you recognized that he’s still using the wallet you gifted him on his last birthday before you broke up.

“Tooru?” you spoke, casually pushing the door. “Can I come in?”

He let out a chuckle. “Of course you can.”

With that, you slid your body inside the room. His eyes were fixated on you as you sat down beside him, placing the kit on your lap. Your hands were trembling as you reached for him, which he willingly lifted without any question, gently patting the iced towel on his bruises that he probably got from mishandling the baseball bat.

“Wow, never have I ever imagined that I’ll get a special treatment from a medical laboratory scientist. You know you can just kiss the boo boo and it’ll go away instantly.” he winked, making you roll your eyes at him again.

“Shut up. My treatment fee is really expensive for idiots like you.” picking up the disinfectant, you slowly rubbed it on the sides of the small cuts with a clean cotton ball, earning a winced from him as the sting penetrated the wound.

Tooru was silent the whole time you’re icing and dressing his hand. He knows that whenever you're doing something healthcare related, you don’t want to be disturbed as you pour your hundred percent concentration into it. He knows this better than you.

“You never gave me a chance to explain myself, Y/N.” he opened up when he saw you finished sealing the wrapped gauze pad around his palm. ��At least let me explain this time. I cannot swallow the fact that we’re already in the middle of this goddamn situation and you still haven’t got the peace of mind you deserve.”

You could feel his stare burning at you. When you met his eyes, it was full of perseverance as if he’s not going to let you exit the room without listening to his explanation. To be honest, you really don’t know to yourself why you’re refusing to hear his side. Maybe you’re afraid of the confrontation. Maybe you’re scared of the fact that he cheated and he’s going to confess it in front of your face. Maybe you’re rejecting the reality that Oikawa Tooru did cheat on you with somebody else.

Gathering all your strength, you let out a deep exhale before speaking. “Give me a reason not to kick you out of this room.”

Tooru’s demeanor changed when he heard those words. It was hard for him to gain your trust once again after everything but if he’s given the chance, he will never let go and prove himself to be worthy of your heart once again.

“It was a prank.” he started, making your face puzzled. “It was a fucking shitty prank pulled by my teammate, Kindaichi. I remember him doing the same thing to Kunimi before but we all laughed it off since Kunimi’s single. I don’t remember when he did it but I think when I left my phone in the locker. He changed his number’s contact photo and name into a girl’s name. After that I went straight to your apartment. I seriously forgot the existence of my phone that day since we’re really having fun and I was late for my practice the next day. When Kindaichi heard that I left my phone somewhere, he texted it and that’s the part where you saw it and thought that I was cheating on you. I confronted him after that with Iwa-chan. That's why I know all of it and he said sorry. I never spoke to him after that.”

He let out a sad smile. “That’s basically everything. I tried contacting you, calling, messaging, and waited outside of your apartment for three hours but you weren’t there. I really wanted to talk with you because we both know that I’ll be leaving for Argentina in a few weeks but yeah, it happened and we can’t really change anything about it anymore.”

Tooru’s bandaged hands slowly made its way to yours, clasping both of his palms on your hands. “I’m so sorry that I let it go just like that. I know that I’m three years late but if there’s anything that I can do to make everything right again, I’ll prove it to you in any way you want just to trust me once again. Even as just friends…Y/N, you’re the best girlfriend and best friend I ever had in my whole life and thinking about everything that happened between us and how it ended just like that puts me in misery.”

Fuck. you thought. You don’t know if the world is playing with your vulnerability right now but after hearing everything, you feel like you’re stoned in your place. You feel like your insides are being scrambled and you wanted to vomit every single thing you ate for the last 14 days with him. All this time, it was a prank. A fucking prank that caused so much damage in both of your lives and relationship. A prank that made you lose your former significant other. And the most fucked up thing about it was you could’ve done something to prevent your relationship from crumbling down. It was completely in your control yet you let him slip away from your finger. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness, Oikawa Tooru is still your partner until today.

“Shit! Y/N, I—sorry! Fuck, please don’t cry.” Tooru panicked when he saw the pooling liquid in your eyes start streaming down your cheeks, eventually wetting both of your hands. You didn’t even realize that you were already a crying mess as you hollow your cheeks to prevent the pitiful sobs escaping your mouth.

With much fragility, Tooru enclosed your trembling body into a warm hug that instantly melted all the pain you’ve been feeling. You could hear your hearts beating together against each other’s chest.

“It’s okay. We’re okay now. I finally found you again. I love you so damn much, Y/N.” he whispered in your ear, right hand caressing your back.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, you finally calmed your hurricane. You pulled away, greeting his worried eyes with your puffy and red ones. Upon meeting his gaze, you felt your heart soften as Tooru’s caramel ones penetrated in yours. His lips formed into a small smile when he saw the way you looked at him.

He will never forget those doe eyes of yours. The very first time he saw your eyes, he instantly fell in love and he knows deep inside that he’ll keep on falling in love with you in every chance he gets. In every universe and in every lifetime, his heart only belongs solely to you.

Your faces acted on their own, slowly moving towards each other until your warm lips clasped with each other. The tension that was middling the two of you finally broke today. It started gentle, lips moving together in sync not until Tooru’s hand grabbed your jaw, lightly turning your face to the side to deepen the kiss as he explored the cave of your mouth that he hasn’t tasted for years.

You pushed yourself above him, finally straddling his lap and wrapping both of your arms around his neck as the innocent kiss suddenly turned into a heated one. Tooru would lie if he said that he didn’t miss all of this. The feeling of being intimate with someone that he hasn't given a chance after your break up because he doesn’t want to do this thing if it’s not with you.

Grinding yourself against him, you felt the growing bulge that was now poking your heated core. You couldn’t help but to let out a soft moan that made Tooru halt his action. It turned him on.

“Y/N, do you want to do this?” he asked, eyes now filled with lust. You nodded, wiping the corner of your mouth. You could feel your cheeks firing up as embarrassment crept in your soul for wanting him.

“Words, love. I need your consensual words.” he commanded you.

Despite the awkwardness you’re feeling, you couldn’t help yourself especially when you felt him fully erected under you. “Y-yes, Let’s do this.”

That’s all it takes for Tooru to gently place you in the bed and continue kissing your unattended mouth. His hands started roaming around your breasts, squeezing both of it tenderly that earned another moan from you. You felt him smirking against the kiss before he humped above you, aligning his clothed bulge that was restraining against his jeans and rubbing it against your clothed pussy.

It ignited a pool of wetness as you felt the hardness being rubbed in you.

“H-hgggh…Shit,” you cursed, eyes shutting from the luscious friction.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m so hard for you.” Tooru said as he massaged your core with his hand. He felt the wetness leaking from your clothes that made him bite his lip in horniness.

He went down from his position as he pulled the hem of your scrub suits down, completely removing your bottom garment that revealed your wet panties. Tooru mentally cursed at his view. All he did was kiss and teased you and yet, you’re already a pooling mess for him. The way how your body reacts to you is driving him insane.

Slender fingers started circling around your clothed core that sent a jolt of pleasure in your body, making your back arch. Tugging the only piece of your bottoms down, he successfully removed the clothing swiftly. He was welcomed with your dripping pussy for him. He didn’t waste another second and devoured it hungrily, tongue nibbling your clit.

“Ahh!” you let out a loud moan as his warm muscle made contact with your pussy. He was licking and placing soft kisses before alternating it with sharp circles by his tongue. The way he glides his mouth against it was driving you in nuts, almost making you see stars.

“Shit shit Tooru, it feels so good!” you did hesitate to let out another moan when he inserted a finger inside you. When he felt that your walls adjusted to it, he slid another one before moving his digits in and out.

You don’t know what to feel due to the intense pleasure that was being thrown at you when he started scissoring his fingers inside. You felt like you could cum with just his fingers. Tooru’s eyes never left your sight and watched how you’re taking his fingers really good.

“F-fuck, Tooru. Please! I want you…Fuck me! I want to come in your dick,” you pleaded messily as you felt your stomach being tied in knots.

With that, he took his fingers out and started stripping his bottoms. His aching hardened cock finally freed itself and slapped against his abdomen. This wasn’t the first time that you saw Tooru naked and this wasn’t definitely the first time that you saw his member but shit, its length and size never fails to amaze you.

Quickly grabbing his wallet, he took out a piece of rubber which you quickly recognized.

“You really took the condoms earlier?” you asked, eyeing at the packet of condom that is now being torn from its packaging.

“Just a few pieces. For emergency.” he grinned as he slid the rubber on his dick without any problem. You laughed as you already expected that from him.

Positioning himself between your legs, he grabbed the shaft and started rubbing the tip against your pussy, almost teasing you. The damn idiot was smirking the whole time and slammed his dick inside you that made you yelp.

“Fuck! Tooru, what the hell?!”

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

He started rocking his hips slowly before picking a consistent pace that made him groan in pleasure.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet, Y/N. Fuck love, I love you and your pussy so much.” he said in between the thrust like he’s worshiping your whole self. You let out a chuckle that was replaced with erotic sounds as he started thrusting in a much faster pace. You felt your walls being stretched out but at the same time, it felt so good that his dick’s the one who’s stretching you out. Tooru found your g-spot in between the thrust that earned you a loud moan as the waves of electricity slammed your body.

“Yes! There! I-it’s so good! Y-you’re so good!” you moaned out as the same spot was abused by his dick repeatedly.

You felt that he’s nearing because his thrust became incredibly faster and impatient. His face was now grunting as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, lips parted in pleasure. Your stomach starts hardening as your core feels like it’s going to combust anytime. Your insides are tightening so much, indicating that you’re also nearing.

“T-tooru, M’gonna c-cum,”

“Me too, love. Me too.”

He replied incoherently, thrusting a few times more before pulling his member out, coming inside the piece of latex. You also released the coil that is forming inside you before he could even pull his dick out.

The both of you were panting so hard with your legs trembling and chest heaving. Tooru collapses on your top with a smile, kissing your lips once more before burying his face on your neck.

“I love you, Y/N.” he said, which made you let out a genuine smile.

Meanwhile, across the wooden door of the master’s bedroom, Tobio was standing with two cups of your favorite 3-in-1 iced coffee that was meant for you and him, right hand completely frozen on the doorknob’s surface as he listened to the alternating erotic moans launching from each other’s mouth while making love.

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madamepestilence · 8 months ago

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H5N1: What to know before fear spreads

What is H5N1?

H5N1 is a 1996 strain of the Spanish or Avian Flu first detected in Chinese birds before spreading globally across various avian species. H5N1 is similar to H1N1, but spreads slower and has a much higher mortality rate.

H5N1 may also be referred to as Influenza A. The American Association of Bovine Practitioners has seen fit to rename H5N1 to Bovine Influenza A Virus, or BIAV, and are encouraging others to use the same terminology.

I would not be surprised if the colloquial name among the public becomes Bovine Flu or American Flu in the coming months, and may be referred to as the Chinese Flu by the same folks who took the spark of the SARS-CoV-2 (COVID-19) pandemic as an excuse to be publicly racist to East Asian people without social repercussions.

BIAV is a virus, meaning that it is a (probably) non-living packet of self-replicating infectious material with a high rate of mutation. BIAV is structured similarly to SARS-CoV-2, having a packet of infectious material encased in a spherical shell with a corona, or crown, of proteins that can latch to living cells to inject RNA.

Image source with interactive model: ViralZone - H5N1 subtype

What is the history of BIAV?

In 1996 and 1997, an outbreak of BIAV occurred among poultry and infected 18 people in Hong Kong, 6 of which died. This seemingly isolated incident then infected ~860 people with a >50% death rate.

At the time, BIAV was known as Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza, or HPAI, and killed nearly 100% of chickens within a 48 hour period.

From 2003 to 2005, continual outbreaks occurred in China and other East Asian countries, before spreading to Cambodia, the Netherlands, Thailand, and Vietnam.

From 2014 to 2016, it began being detected in American fowl, as well as mutating the H5N6 (lethal in birds, no human to human transmission) and H5N8 (largely spread through turkeys, ducks had immunity) viruses.

BIAV has since evolved into a clade known as 2.3.4.4b, and was first detected in 2021 in wild American birds. This then caused outbreaks in 2022 among wild and domesticated birds (such as chickens) alike, but was largely being overshadowed by the pressing SARS-CoV-2 pandemic at the time.

From 2022 to 2023, it was observed to be spreading among various mammals, including humans. Now, in 2024, we're having the most concerning rapid outbreak of BIAV since 2003.

BIAV is known to spread from mammal to mammal, particularly between cows and humans. BIAV may also be spread from cow to cow (highly likely, but not confirmed - this is likely the reason the virus has spread to Idaho from Texan cattle), and is known to be lethal to domestic cats and birds within 48 hours.

How does BIAV spread?

BIAV spreads through fomites - direct contact with infected animals or infected surfaces and then touching parts of your face or other orifices - as well as through airborne particulates, which may be inhaled and enter the sinuses and lungs.

BIAV is known to spread through:

Asymptomatic Ducks, geese, swans, various shorebirds

Symptomatic, may be lethal Foxes, bears, seals, sea lions, polar bears, domestic cats, dogs, minks, goats, cows, (potentially human to human, but unconfirmed - there have only been 8 potential human to human cases in 2024).

How can I protect against BIAV?

As BIAV is a type of Influenza A, existing protocols should do fine.

Current recommendations are to wash your hands vigorously after interacting with birds (I would also recommend doing this with mammals), avoid touching your face or other open orifices, and wear N95 masks.

Avoid sick or dead animals entirely - I would also recommend reporting them to your local Animal Control or veterinary centre and warning them about the infection risk. People who work with animals are recommended to also wear full PPE such as N95 masks, eye protection, gloves, and partake in vigorous hand washing.

If you suspect you've caught BIAV, seek medical attention immediately. Existing medications such as oseltamivir phosphate, zanamivir, peramivir, and baloxavir marboxil can reduce BIAV's ability to replicate.

Standard flu shots will not protect against BIAV. Remember - symptoms of BIAV may not manifest for between 2 to 8 days, and potentially infected people should be monitored for at least 10 days.

How far has BIAV spread?

BIAV is currently a global virus, though the current infection location of note is the United States.

Image Key: Dark red - Countries with humans, poultry and wild birds killed by H5N1 Deep red - Countries with poultry or wild birds killed by H5N1 and has reported human cases of H5N1 Light red - Countries with poultry or wild birds killed by H5N1

Image source: Wikipedia - Influenza A virus subtype H5N1 - File: Global spread of H5N1 map

Image source: Metro.co.uk - Map shows where bird flu is spreading in US amid new warning - File: The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s H5N1 bird flu detections map across the United States

Should I be afraid?

You needn't be afraid, just prepared. BIAV has a concerningly high lethality, but this ironically culls its spread somewhat.

In the event human to human transmission of BIAV is confirmed, this will likely mainly affect marginalized communities, poor people, and homeless people, who are likely to have less access to medical care, and a higher likelihood of working in jobs that require frequent close human contact, such as fast food or retail jobs.

Given the response to SARS-CoV-2, corporations - and probably the government - may shove a proper response under the rug and refuse to participate in a full quarantine, which may leave people forced to go to work in dangerous conditions.

If this does spread into an epidemic or pandemic, given our extensive knowledge about Influenza, and the US having a backup vaccine for a prior strain of H5N1, a vaccine should be able to be developed relatively quickly and would hopefully be deployed freely without charge - we won't have to worry about a situation like The Stand.

Wash your hands, keep clean, avoid large social gatherings where possible, wear an N95 mask if you can afford them (Remember: Cloth masks are the least protective, but are better than nothing. If you can't afford N95 masks, I recommend wearing a well-fitted cloth mask with a disposable face mask over it to prevent pneumonia from moisture buildup in the disposable mask), support the disabled, poor, and homeless, and stay educated.

We can do better this time.

Further things to check out:

YouTube: MedCram - H5N1 Cattle Outbreak: Background and Currently Known Facts (ft. Roger Seheult, M.D.)

Wikipedia - Influenza A virus subtype H5N1

Maine.gov - Avian Influenza and People

CDC.gov - Technical Report: Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza A(H5N1) Viruses

Wikipedia - H5N1 genetic structure

realagriculture - Influenza infection in cattle gets new name: Bovine Influenza A Virus (BIAV)

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xaviers-student-union · 2 months ago

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Xavier Student Paper: Issue #2

A return, and a dissapearence: Where is Gwen?

A few nights ago on a job, a friend of the Union; Miss Gwen Poole [ AKA; Gwenpool] dissapeared after reportedly being shot while working one of her jobs. Naturally, her line of work is incredibily dangerous and not without risks, and so this isn't the first time she's been injured. However, Miss.Pool is an active member or the community of heroes and anti-heroes and often interacts in person and through a newly popular medium for those in the buisenss of wearing poor fighting spandex and fighting people; known as Tumblr.

And more importantly, her beloved Jeff is currently being cared for not by Gwen...but by Scraps.

If anybody, anybody at all has any tips or leads to help confirm her status; if not her whereabouts. Please contact Deanne, at the numbers printed in the back of the issue

[ Relevent parties: @gwenpooleoffish , @scraps-stark ]

A Warm Welcome To our New Friend;

Since 2020, Eel has been somewhat off grid due to the outbreak of Corona Virus. Living off the shores in an old house boat, They have decided to make their return to mutant society by enrolling in the Xavier's adult courses; albeit in the medium of online school. We wish Eel a swift and smooth transition back into our community, and we hope you all here at the institute will treat them with warmth and kindness.

On that note, we'd like to officially remind folks that the institute in recent years doesn't just teach children, and prospective X-men. They offer degrees in unrelated subjects. For example, they are currently offering a Pre-Med course which is valid to get you into a medical programme upon graduation. Adult courses also include a dormitory that provides free housing, but with more privacy than the regular dorms inside the manor.

[Rlevent parties: @retrofittedfishmachine ]

Jasper's Monthly Spending Spree

As you all have probabaly heard, or even seen in our numerous posters around the building; it's that time of the month where Jasper takes the money his father forces on him and uses it to fund Pro-Mutant charities and campaigns. Aside from that, Jasper offers to buy everyone a gift.

If you're in need of anything, big or small please remember to contact him.

He's easy to find, as he practically lives in the library and club room.

Also, outside of his monthly spree he'd like to remind everyone that he's happy to step in and aid fellow students whose families may be falling behind with necessary payments. He has more money than he'd ever know what to do with. And, we're the worst to happen he has enough assets unrelated to his father that he would be able to live on. Though, jasper has asked I don't disclose anything more than that.

Extraterrestrial Cultural Exchange Club Event cancelled.

As forseen in last issue, it turns out that those "genuine" alien artefacts that the club leader promised were obtained legally and peacefully were in fact smuggled from the black market. As such, the event has been cancelled and all knowledgable parties have been barred from future club gatherings, participation and are receiving in school punishment.

All Alien artefacts gave been reappropriated to be returned to their rightful owners thanks to the work of Jean Grey, and Jasper. If you, or a family member have been impacted or believe your items to be missing please file a report with us and we will see to it that justice [ and your things return] be served.

Father and Daughter finally Talk; Everyone is pleased.

As of yesterday evening, Aranza Martinez and her Father; James Logan Howlett [AKA Wolverine] have had their talk. And while they're still figuring things out, they've both accepted that they want to be in each other's life. So, I hope everyone can join me in wishing them well.

It may be a long road to complete understanding, but hopefully with proper support and communication this could be the start of a fruitful, and happy parenting experience for a member of the xmen. So long as the mansion doesn't blow up.

Again.

[Relevant parties: @wolverineofficial ]

This about concludes this weeks issue but before we go I'd like to remind our readers to report anything they believe to be interesting! The newspaper uploads on Friday!

Author: Deanne

#xavier student paper #issue 2 #mutantblr #mutanttumblr #mutant tumblr #mutant rp #xmen rp #mutant powers #xaviers student union #mutant power

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kkanabel · 2 years ago

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directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

march 10th, 2020 ( chapter 4 , week 2 )

sypnosis: The new year has just started– you’re moving into a place with your closest friends after reaching the peak of your career. Now that you can afford to live in Tokyo, you can finally spend time with your closest friends and go out on the town to further grow your YouTube channel. It’s time to have a new start in your new place and meet hot, rich people to be your possible future partner. This is the life to live; it’s great being famous and living in a big city with your best friends!

Wait, never mind– COVID-19 is in Japan? Fuck.

Well, at least there’s this one hot guy you keep seeing on Tik Tok who keeps posting about cleaning.

[ 9 : 02 AM ]

You were nursing a warm cup of hojicha to your chest in your favorite mug. Your legs were crossed atop a white modern-style stool by your kitchen island. This was your morning routine– you’d wake up (at some point), drink either some tea or coffee, and check your phone before staring out the window and questioning life.

There were many windows in your apartment. They spread out across the walls, giving the room lots of sunlight. You always pulled up the blinds in the morning.

Things were only getting more worrying in the news. Today, the government of Japan officially declared the coronavirus outbreak a national emergency. As of this point, there are 514 people infected and there have been 9 deaths in total. The emotional strain it’s taken on you is already terrifying. You’re seeing articles about the state of corona in China, and it’s even worse.

You text your parents a couple times every day, making sure they haven’t caught anything. Their growing age worries you. If they caught the virus, what would happen? You don’t think you could handle it. You’re too young for that right now. You look at the clouds in the distance through the window, the entire sky blanketed in a thick cover of gray fluff, offering wishes to the sky.

It’s getting warmer and more humid outside. Around this time, you were planning on buying a bunch of spring clothes for some new videos. You couldn’t leave the house, though.

But you didn’t mind that. You were just waiting for the end of this in a couple weeks. You wanted to stop worrying about your parents and about your friends. It was exhausting, looking at the news and worriedly going to the Phone app to call your parents to check if they’d left the house or if they started developing random symptoms.

You get knocked out of your anxious trance when you hear Hinata opening the door from his/Oikawa’s room and yawning a muffled “good mornin’” to you. You uttered one back to him, smiling as you finished the last of your hojicha and hopped of your stool to walk over to the sink, washing your mug and placing it into the dish rack.

“How was your sleep?” you ask as a way to distract yourself, heading back to your favorite stool.

Hinata was in the middle of grabbing bacon, eggs, and orange juice from the fridge for an American-style breakfast. He sighed when he heard your question. “See this bump right here?” he pulled his bangs from his forehead and pointed to the growing red bump on his head. “I hit my head again.”

You laughed at him, causing him to groan and release his hair back onto his forehead, fluffy orange curls flopping back down. “We should really get those shelves removed. It’s not like we use them anyway,” you said, pausing. “Hm. I guess we should remove them after coronavirus ends.”

Hinata just turned on the stove and placed a pan onto it. “Want some?” he offered, putting oil on the pan and waiting for it to heat up. He turned on the stove fan, so you listened as the machine whirred to life and started breathing in the delicious smells of fried bacon.

“Absolutely!” you thought for a moment before speaking up again. “Hey, why don’t we get some pool noodles, cut them, and then put them onto the edges of the shelves? It’ll protect your head at night.”

He turned back to you for a moment, his eyes brightening. “That’s genius!” Then he paused and narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait. Isn’t that what they do to babyproof a house?”

Laughing, you nod your head. “It would still protect your head, though! Maybe I’ll order some the next time you hit your head again.”

The ginger scoffed. “Please just get them now. You know I’ll hit my head again!” he complained before realizing the bacon finished cooking. He placed the bacon evenly onto four plates.

You watched his back as he moved around, grabbing one of the eggs from the carton. He cracked the egg open, gingerly dropping it into the pan as it sizzled and hissed in the bacon’s grease. Meanwhile, he plugged the (really cute) white retro-style toaster into the power outlet and plopped pieces of bread into it for the eggs.

You were very proud of this toaster. You gave it to them as a housewarming present before you knew you were going to move in, knowing that you wanted the toaster for yourself. You were glad that you inevitably started owning it.

Hinata made four plates for everybody and placed yours in front of you. Grinning, you told him to move close to the plate so you could take a photo to show off how great of a roommate you had. He smiled brightly behind the plate, putting up two peace signs.

It smelled amazing. These were the kinds of moments you were grateful for when you moved in. You were really looking forward to more of these moments.

[ 1 : 09 PM ]

Today is upload day! Starting last week, you’ve started to double the amount you normally upload onto YouTube. This, of course, means that you need to work twice as hard, but you’ve been stuck inside, so there’s not much else to do.

You’re waiting as your video uploads to your channel, sitting in the living room next to Oikawa as he edits one of his videos. He’s wearing blue-light glasses and a fluffy grey bathrobe that you gifted him for Christmas, sitting with his legs rested atop an ottoman and ankles crossed together.

He’s truly the epitome of a modern-day man. In his earbuds, his voice plays over and over again as he cuts and moves around clips of himself. You’re doing the same, editing a video for next week.

Today, you’re uploading a video for outfits in quarantine. You pray that the algorithm takes kindly to this. In your video, you clarify your update to your uploading schedule, and you tell everybody to stay inside and stay safe before giving them tips for outfits. Of course, all of the clothes are linked in your description. You aren’t a monster.

In fact, you’re wearing one of those outfits that you showcased in the video– some sweatpants and a mock neck sweater underneath your graphic-designed sweatshirt. Of course, you popped on quite a lot of jewelry. After all, “accessories are necessities,” as you always repeat in your videos.

Your hair is put in a cute and trendy hairdo– one stolen straight off of TikTok.

When the sound of your own voice and the sight of your face starts to repulse you, you put down your laptop and head to the fridge for a drink. “Hey, ‘Kawa! Want somethin’ to drink?” you call from the kitchen to the living room to ensure that Oikawa can hear you through his earbuds.

He jolts for a moment and pulls out an earbud in his panic. “Oh! Yes! Could you grab me a juice?”

You grunt out an affirmation before sitting back down next to him and handing him his mug. During this gesture, he also puts away his laptop and lets out a relieved sigh while stretching out his arms and wrists. “Have you finished uploading yet?”

You check your laptop quickly, seeing it at 58%, and then shaking your head. You pull yourself into a sitting fetal position on the couch, and you face Oikawa. “So, I talked to Kenma about doing some sort of Minecraft server thing with him and uploading it to our channels. Wanna join? I’ve already asked Tobio and Shoyo.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened. “A Minecraft server? Dang, I haven’t touched that game since 2015… but my builds were god-tier, so yes. Absolutely.” He finished the last of his juice. “Get ready to be pranked 24/7.”

This statement makes you cackle. “What makes you think that? I’ve destroyed you so many times in Mario Kart. I doubt you’ll be any better at Minecraft. Do you even know what a cave is?”

He rolls his eyes. “You only ever win because you cheat!”

“How is following the game’s rules cheating?!” You laugh as he accuses you.

“Stop placing banana peels in front of me!”

“Dude. Bro. ‘Kawa. I love you man, but you can’t blame the game’s mechanics for losing in this case. Accept that you suck.”

Oikawa ceases this subject matter because he knows he’s lost. “Anyway, when are we gonna do it?”

Craning your head up to the ceiling, you say, “Honestly? I’m not sure yet. Maybe about a week or two. Maybe when we’re out of this quarantine?”

He then crosses his arms together. “I wouldn’t bet on this ending anytime soon. I think it’s going to last longer than two weeks… Why are you so convinced it’ll end soon?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s because I can’t imagine it lasting any longer. I don’t want it to,” you admit, bringing your gaze back down to the ground and groaning. “I’m worried about my parents.”

He pats your back to comfort you, and rubs your shoulder to ground you. “It’s alright. We’ll keep sending them groceries every two weeks, so they won’t have to leave the house. I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

Then, a notification sound knocks you out of your emotional state again. “Oh! It’s finished uploading!” You then get busy liking and responding to comments to distract yourself from your worries.

Oikawa glances at you and gives you a soft smile before getting back to his editing.

[ 2 : 19 PM ]

[ 10 hours later ]

You shrieked in your bedroom after checking on the video you just uploaded, a hand clasped over your mouth after the high-pitched noise. It was the dead of night, but your brain didn't even register that you made a horrifying noise.

Your brain was completely frozen, staring at the screen on your laptop.

Worried, Oikawa, Hinata, and Kageyama all rushed to your door and opened it in a panic.

"What's wrong!? Is there a pervert!? A thief!?" Oikawa screamed, holding up a lamp as a makeshift weapon.

Hinata was holding a plant. Kageyama wasn't even holding anything. He just looked sleepy, confused, and worried.

The ginger had definitely shuffled out of bed at your scream, and you could see a red bump forming on his nose from where he probably tried to get up in a rush to make sure you were okay.

"G-Guys. I reached three million views in ten hours!" You screamed, jumping off your bed and jumping for joy into their arms.

The three men were frozen for a moment, confused. This was before they started jumping with you, smiles of joy cracking open at their faces.

"Oh my god! We need to celebrate! Let's grab some champagne!"

[ video of the week ]

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

a/n: hehe what do y'all think? btw, thank you so much for all the reposts recently! i appreciate it so much <3 also, please lmk if i have a typo or anything lol. i was kinda typing this up in a rush.

#social media alternate universe #haikyuu smau #smau #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #oikawa tooru #yachi hitoka #shimizu kiyoko #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #bokuto koutarou #miya atsumu #miya osamu #sakusa smau #sakusa fluff #haikyuu crack

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wanderingthedesertalone · 1 year ago

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Corona Alone a Diary Revisited: An American’s Experience of the Covid Lockdown in Mumbai

Lockdown In Retrospect

Mediocre Graces: In any case, by the end of the Pandemic, I had somewhat been restored to good graces, not that I was ever greeted in Anand Nagar(8) at least with the Atithi Devo Bhava(11) spirit, I got on the good side of the local gang and befriended a Muslim woman who sells fish in a roadside stall, but it was too late, lonesomeness and faithlessness in humanity had grabbed a hold of me. Sadly, I am no longer able to speak to the fish merchant. She married, her husband is conservative and doesn’t allow her to speak to men.

On Lonesomeness: It’s worth noting that many endured the Corona epidemic in complete isolation. According to The Wall Street Journal, 35.7 million Americans, including myself, lived alone (Byron) around the time of writing the first journal entry. However, not just did I live alone, I was an expat, I lived alone in Mumbai, India. Regardless of the negative stigma that goes along with living alone, solitude never bothered me, in fact, ever since I was divorced, in 2012, I’ve preferred to be alone. Besides, I could always grab a cup of coffee and talk to strangers, I have the gift of gab when needed, but the double-whammy of isolation and becoming a pariah had pushed me to the brink of insanity. I’ve come to believe that those things that don’t kill us make us weaker and since the Covid outbreak I’ve become impatient, nervous and have lost faith in humanity, as I’ve already said.

Too Much Fluff: In all, the NPR article is woefully misguided and simply tried to make a buck off of Covid lockdowns, like so many other news outlets were doing at the time. A better story would’ve been on those who live alone before the Pandemic, whether for reason of mental health, a willful solitude or social ineptitude, that chronicled each persons’ descent into madness; I despise fluff journalism, maybe because it reminds me of the way that Bollywood paints India as an endless serene landscape of humorous follies in love that can easily be overcome when it’s something else all together, not easily, or that I would like to, put into words. This isn’t just fluff, there’s comedy for sure, there’s humor in all tragedy but there’s a reason for sharing the gritty details of lockdown in India, I feel it’s important to share these stories lest we live them again! In the past year, I’ve filled 6 volumes with recollections of lockdown, I hoped to get them published by a newspaper, that failed.

Diary Excerpts and Commentary

A Note to the Reader: The following excerpts are from the journal of an expat living in Mumbai (recorded between Feb 2019 and Feb 2021), during Covid lockdown(1). Dates have been replaced with titles because, unless indicated in commentary or prose, they’re irrelevant:

It Begins: There’s a few cases of Covid in China and other places but I’m not too worried, this will have as much effect on me as the 2003 SARS outbreak(6), there’ve been many such scares in my lifetime. Besides, I caught the virus from a wedding party in Sri Lanka, it was like the Flu, high fever, mild delirium and a little trouble breathing. Interesting thing about Sri Lanka, all of the land and wealth seems to be in the hands’ of the Nords, the locals have very little and the price of food is like that of America or Europe. Also, airport authorities took a child’s Queen Conch shell away right before boarding, she was clearly enamored by her seemingly magical wave machine. After they took it from her, she cried all the way back to Mumbai.

The Flasher: A few Covid cases have been confirmed and I’m beginning to feel like an unwelcome guest in a foreign land, an unusual notion in a land where the locals say “Atithi Devo Bhava(11).” Typically, Indians are hospitable, on my travels to the South they were, of course, taxi drivers tried to scam me there, but cabbies the world over are a special breed of scum, you should’ve seen the way they took me to the wringer in Hong Kong, hospitality is a source of national pride here. This afternoon, there was a knock on the door, it was my landlord. I found myself baffled by what he said. I opened the door and he began to speak, timidly and slowly in broken English: “there’s been a complaint,” he said. “What’s wrong?” “A man is walking around outside naked.” “Oh, I see. Thanks for informing me,” I said and shut the door, believing that he was telling me of a dangerous predator lurking among this slum’s numerous tightly knit alleys at night. Later, I came to find that the landlord was attempting to tell me that the neighbors had accused me of going on moonlit strolls in the buff, I was the predator. I was shocked and enraged when I found that I was, according to gossip, a flasher, but consoled myself by telling myself that none of this is the landlord’s fault, he just wants to prevent other tenants from rioting. People are scared and looking to point a finger at an invisible assailant. This will be forgotten quickly and my name restored, I guess it’s not contradictory to be both hospitable and two-faced. Why do I care about my reputation in a slum? I don’t want any trouble.

Last Days of Freedom: Worry has set in, even chain restaurants no longer accept cash, not from me at least, I tried to buy something to eat with good ol’ paper money at McDonald’s and they refused to serve me. Worse luck, as the Chinese say. I’m working on a project here and I’m paid in cash, so credit isn’t something I have access to. This doesn’t just affect me, a large portion of the population is paid, untaxed of course, in cash and most likely doesn’t have a bank account. Also, everywhere I go my temperature is taken.

Days of Optimism: Lockdown began, I went to get groceries for the 2 days that we are told we must shelter in place and plan to go to bed early. There was hoarding and ransacking of shelves at the local grocer, but I’m sure that it’s just hysteria and this whole thing will end soon. Another interesting thing happened at the store today, two women got in a fight over the last box of cookies, the first woman, a pudgy mother with a bad attitude towards everyone that I had had the bad luck of having a few encounters with before, used to admonish me saying “smoking is a bad addiction,” I wagged my finger and said “sugar is a bad addiction,” laughing my way out of the store. It was the first time I’ve laughed in days, I’ve been in a daze, everything is quickly changing and feels so dire. The fowl woman, she lost the battle and the box of cookies. A word about change, I’m often told that nothing changes in this little hamlet and I believe it. It’s hyperbole, things change here, but slowly, there’s digital gadgets for sale, but there are also oxcarts that sell food and other remnants of the past. It’s not that nothing changes, It’s that time seems to go by slower here, like the locals heartbeat at a slower pace. I always feel rushed but they take as much time as the seasons.

Two Days In: The two days passed, but lockdown continues, the food I bought didn’t last. Even worse, I wasn’t informed that lockdown part 2 had begun without the first installment ending, I slept through the grocery shopping time, 6AM. I snuck out for an evening walk despite lockdown, 2 interesting things happened on my covert walk, I saw many others outside as well, they all spoke of the cow that wandered into the open air temple that’s adjacent to my apartment complex, some are feeding here, even the Muslims, having taken up many of the folk traditions of the Hindus they live among, agree that a sickly heifer wandering into the temple is a good omen, the other interesting thing, The Green Eyed Lady (an Indian with green eyes) made me some Khichdi(24). There were also Chinese in Haiden, Beijing, a district home to many Russians, who have green eyes. Isn’t genetic splendid? In any case, the woman asked me if I had eaten, usually more of a salutation than invitation here, I said “no,” so she brought me a bite to eat. The food supposedly heals the sick.

Big Changes in a Little Town: Since implementation of the Janata(5) Curfew, many continue to sit along alleys in large groups or participate in sports, not wearing masks(4). Yet, as I walk enroute to purchase groceries, these intrepid individuals say “here comes Corona” and cover their faces with their dupatta(7) or a handkerchief. This change of attitude towards me is, although slight, I’ve always had my fans and detractors here, is palpable. Maybe it’s just my nerves. Before lockdown, I sometimes played Teen Patti(19) with neighbors at least, never understood the rules though. Anyway, the shelter-in-place decree will be lifted on Passover, this must be a good omen, not that I sincerely believe in such things, I think to myself and reiterate my resolution to weather the storm in Mumbai. One concern about the transmission of Covid, Indians don’t have a sense of proximity, they always crowd.

One Good Deed: The endless bad news has left me exhausted. A few thoughts before bed, having lived in other parts of Asia and meeting many people from Europe, India is like America in one way, heterogeneity. It’s a type of melting pot, not a melting pot of strangers from far off lands but a mixture of old kingdoms, who have their own languages and cultures, forced under one, possibly too small, umbrella. Adding it up, Indian society, due to its long history, caste system and numerous religions is exceedingly complex, for example Muslims created the first free public institutes of higher learning, yet in some regards they’re treated like would-be separatists (Khurshid). Thinking about the day’s event, I sit on the small broken cot that’s my bed, I have to get this fixed soon, it’s interesting, the cost of handwork is very cheap here, in the US, anything that artisan might do is expensive and it’s more cost effective just to throw the old away. I’m reminded of this Chinese woman I met in Beijing, she told me “I’m not Han(23).” “Interesting, which ethnic group do you belong to?” “I’m Miao.” “Is there anything unique about the Miao?” “We don’t eat dogs. All Chinese people are the same, we are one people, the only difference between Han and Miao is that we don’t eat dogs.” I was teaching adult English at the time for extra income. India is more like America than China or Europe, diversity is endless.

Anand Nagar Has a New Song: The decree wasn’t lifted. Another day, thousands more Covid cases and locals have begun to shout “go home Corona!” Despite the taunts, I’m staying where I am. I don’t have much of a choice, there aren’t any flights anyway, the airports, in a panic, have shut down, everything, with a mere 2 day warning, has come to a grinding halt. I guess this isn’t merely more sensational media. Besides, the situation is becoming bleaker in the US and airports are havens for communicable diseases, they pack people in, from all over the world, like sardines. Have you ever seen the projected distribution of an epidemic? It all starts with airports. Resolute that this virus will blow over, I buckle down for the Summer of Corona in India.

Foreigners Have it Too: Nothing good has come from lockdowns so far, it has fostered hysteria, mob mentality, greed and anti-foreigner sentiment. This “City of Dreams,” has become a nightmare! The nation has fallen into the clutches of fear of contracting the virus from a foreign national. Hysteria, I tell you! I only hope that this all ends soon. Despite an anti-foreigner hysteria, according to The World Health Organization there are a total of 1637 people infected by Covid-19, a mere 49 of which are aliens(3) (The WHO). Yet, the locals blame it all on Tablighi Jamaat(13)(BBC), why not? Trump is calling this outbreak “The China Virus.” The borders have closed, looks like I’m staying here for a while, I didn’t plan on leaving anyway. Besides, there’s talk of easing restrictions. Back to the human condition, I had always been considered an outsider here, I had always been greeted with mocking and mistrust, to some degree, but there were those who accepted me. The first day I arrived the children called me names and adults mimicked the way I speak with derisive tones and gestures, I guess imitation is the highest form of flattery? I despise epigrams, I really do.

Nostalgia for Slightly Better Days: Before lockdown, there was a woman with a fish tattoo on her arm who often invited me to play cards but I shied away from her after neighbors had told me that she “accuses people of rape to blackmail them for money.” I don’t usually listen to gossip but wanted to play it safe. Other than that, I was at least invited to weddings, funerals and dances during the Graba(22) celebration. Funny story, the first year I refused to dance, a man jokingly told me that if I dance with a girl I have to marry her. I didn’t actually believe him, I’m not that gullible, I’m just not fond of Indian music. Back to the present, it’s not the time for nostalgia, although I can’t think of a better pastime right now, maybe if foreigners in India practice social distancing, unlike the locals, they won’t catch the virus and the stigma will dissolve. The other night I went for a walk just to break the monotony of watching time go by and hoping the world would heal. This morning, I was again accused of perverse behaviors by my landlord. I wasn't walking the alleyways naked, but I am being watched. On the walk, locals barred the alley and told me “no foreigners allowed.” Yet, they daily gather to play Cricket while sentinels watch for cops so that they can quickly disperse.

There’ Gestapos In This Movie Too: I guess I should mention something good too. Lockdown has caused a sort of hush here and now daily I can hear the sound of an infant being bathed through the one tiny window my studio apartment has. Through the 4 foot square aperture I can hear the infant laughing as warm water rushes over it. I now hope that things will return to the way they were before, just subpar not “holy crap the world is on fire and we are all going to die!” A combination of police and concerned citizens, working with the police, now stand along the main road with bamboo canes in hand. They remind me of stories my grandfather told of the Gestapo. Both are poised for violence. The police, they resound the sentiment of the concerned citizens, ridicule the foreigner. Now, I usually get an escort, something that is only afforded to me, to stop “roaming” as I go to get essentials. There are now dots painted on the sidewalk, we are supposed to stand on them to ensure social distancing, the locals don’t obey this. If I do the same, I’m informed, thwack would go the cane. I’ve begun to see in black and white, not metaphorically but literally, I feel as though I’m watching a movie about a distant authoritarian time. The brutalist architecture(24) is reminiscent of Russia and North Korea, it doesn’t take much imagination for the arabesque attributes to obscure. I haven’t slept much.

Building a Wall: This hamlet is bluffed by a river by a river on one side with a small foot bridge for crossing into Neilam Nagar. The police have blockaded the entrance to the crossing and are building a wall to, I believe, keep the several hundred thousand impoverished residence of this hamlet trapped like mice on a sinking ship. I truly fear the wall, perhaps it’s because of my education, having been forced to read the line ‘Something there is that doesn’t love a wall(20),’ throughout school, it’s almost a national anthem. Walls and golf courses have always seemed as despicable things to me. Neither the rich nor the influential politicians are suffering the same as we are in the slums. They play golf in their gated communities…

The First Stone Tossed: As the situation in India worsens, so do the jeering. Now, a few individuals throw rocks at me, a tactic usually reserved for thwarting the region’s menacing wild dogs, as I venture into the ever more dangerous streets at the permitted time, 6AM, to get essentials, in an attempt to diffuse their frustrations over the region’s spreading epidemic. Yet, returning to the political quagmire that is America keeps me hopeful that sheltering in Mumbai will become easier. Rocks tossed or not, I’m staying in place. Oddly, despite not eating much, I’m gaining weight, it must be stress. Supplies have run thin, some are hoarding and there’s talk of a 2 week prohibition on supply trucks entering Anand Nagar.

Insomnia: Depression has set in and money has mostly ran out. Immediately before lockdown, I was given a promotion but as of yesterday, the company I worked for has permanently shut their doors. I’ve just now realized that I haven’t left my house, let alone gotten out of the broken cot for days. I look at the clock, it’s 5:50 AM, the allotted time for shopping. Getting groceries at dawn isn’t a matter of waking at dawn; I haven’t slept in days either, just sat on this cot watching time go by. Insomnia is starting to take a toll, I’m beginning to hallucinate, time has lost all meaning, at times days go by in minutes yet other times, minutes last for a small eternity. It has been days since I’ve had a face to face conversation with another human.

Home Invaders: Somewhat dazed, I sit on my bed contemplating the meaninglessness of time when there’s nothing to do. Jolted from my daydream-like state, there’s a pounding sound on the door. The sound is getting louder. I hear shouting. The words come into focus, “foreigner, we’re coming in! We’re breaking the door down,” says the unfamiliar voices. I spring to my feet and bolt the door. The pounding becomes more and more rapid and fear takes a hold of me. But then I hear a familiar voice, the voice of my neighbor, she shouts something in Marathi and the marauders leave. I fall into a sleep and don’t wake for 2 days. Food was cut off for 2 weeks, I had to get a bite to eat from the Hanuman Mandir(18). They handed out plates of rice and lentils.

Vigilantes: Days go by and panic worsens among residents of this Mumbai chawl(8). Due to rising fears, vigilantes begin to safeguard the streets from “roaming.” These sentinels attempt to impose restrictions of their own device on me: they inform me that I am not permitted to walk along certain roads because they are afraid that I carry the virus, this happened once before on a late night walk but now it’s the norm, although I’m merely in search of a store to buy necessities and wearing a mask. In the end, these vigilantes won’t cause a reduction in hanging out on the street, this I know, but a few of this slum’s inhabitants get to feel empowered because they are the new sheriff in town. I guess we all need a whipping-post and there’s good among the wicked, a local temple and a few individuals are handing out grains to the needy. We are all needy here. At this point, the lockdown has gone on for months.

The New sheriffs in Town: Currently, there’s two police along Mumbai’s backstreets, those who were given authority by the Mumbai Municipal Corporation (MNC) and vigilantes. Feeling harassed and completely rejected by society, loneliness takes hold of me, I begin to search for a way out of this “city of dreams,” maybe returning home while a buffoonish leader (Trump) who makes a mockery of the US isn’t so bad, I think to myself. All things considered, it’s nearly impossible to abide by laws set by both the government and a hysteric mob anyway.

No Payment Until April: At least I have a roof over my head, I think to myself, an article in Aljazeera, Foreign Tourists Face Hostility in India Amid Coronavirus Panic informs that an Israeli woman was evicted from her home in Goa due to locals fear of contracting COVID-19 and others were forced out of their hotel (Purohit), I can go a day without milk, but not without a bed, not to mention, the police had recently found tourists living in a cave because they are trapped in India and have ran out of money (NBC). I haven’t yet been evicted, but am also out of funds and live under constant threat of eviction. Rent payment is suspended until April (Delhi High Court). I lay on my broken cot, I will try to get it fixed on the black market, and continue to doom-scroll taking note of the day’s death tally and searching for any sign of things getting better. Passover has passed but Covid hasn’t.

Nobody Goes Home for That Price: I do some research and come to find that the US Department of State is offering “repatriation flights,” these flights carry a $2000 price tag (a promissory note for the aforementioned amount must be signed before boarding the plane) and a random port of arrival is where I’ll end up if I choose to return home through the ever so benevolent government, how can anyone pay this price during a Pandemic (this thing has been upgraded to a Pandemic, how lovely words are). Upon arriving at this port, the returning expat must find their way home through barricades and the threat of being infected by Corona (Genter). I harden my heart and again resolve to weather the storm in Mumbai. Besides, if the promissory note isn’t paid, I will be banned from international travel. I’m a Digital Nomad. I travel, work at an incredibly low rate and can only afford to survive in developing countries.

August’s Heat: The death toll jets upward and 75 degree angle, it’s updated daily. While bombarded with an endless stream of bad news, jeering has morphed into threats of violence, sleep is still a rare occurrence, heat rash has caused the parts of my body covered by clothing to become as freckled as Little Orphan Annie, I’m as poor to boot, my field of vision is filled sprawling geometric patterns and my temper is quick.

Worse Than the Daughters of Temperance: As the situation thickens, stores begin to deny me service. A shopkeeper refuses to sell me certain items that are in stock and we aren’t barred from sale, I have just been informed that liquor and tobacco have become contraband. The more than nagging need to satiate addictions during lockdown aside, this proprietor allows Indian nationals to purchase products, but denies me the same goods. He’d have me starve to death! I, like all outsiders, have become the face of a faceless virus that has ruined lives, in fact “Muslims were initially blamed for the spread of infection (Siddiqui),” a group that is no less a part of India than Sikhs(10), yet, like Jews anywhere in the world, are perpetual outsiders. All things considered, this is mass hysteria! Nobody I know has died from Covid yet. A sampling error? Perhaps. Nonetheless, I sit in my room without a breeze (I don’t have A/C) and ponder what society has come to, Freud’s mob mentality.

They’re Trying to Starve Me Out: That shopkeeper has changed his mind, I returned to him to buy groceries but he yelled “go away foreigner white face.” He then insisted that a clerk not give me an old box, although I was carrying a heavy load and had no tote. The hypocrisy of people here is an in the face classism, a rule for me and a rule for them. The Covid cases are increasing exponentially! So are my headaches. They’re not headaches as much as a feeling that every nerve ending in my body is being prodded with a needle and the inside of my brain shrinking. Now, I sit at home alone, the rats scurry across the floor, the heat comes in waves, time stands still and there’s nothing to laugh about, Covid cases are in the hundred thousands and the death toll is staggering as well.

Befriending the Gang: August’s heat, insomnia, constant dread and lack of nutrition are getting to me, I don’t know how much longer I can go on. Even local pharmacists have begun to convey a fear of me and insist that I have a cough when I go in to ask for something for heat rash. Unlike the grocers, the pharmacists sell me goods, but with great hesitation and suspicion in regards to my presence in this chawl. Finding tobacco is now the chief task of every day. It’s sold on the black market, along with chocolate, alcohol and meat, at exorbitant prices. So, like a heroin addict, I slink up to a back alley leant-to and buy a pack of smokes. It’s just like buying illicit drugs: there’s an obligatory period of making small-talk, ambiguity over whether or not the man actually has tobacco, razzing, phone calls and scurrying about to find it. In the end, I walk away with cigarettes at European prices and a dirty feeling.

Suicide Among Death: Lockdown continues and most in this chawl have lost morale. The neighbor sent her son over to tinker on my electric piano. She told me of what has been dubbed The Flower House Girl. A young woman hung herself from rafters due to endless confinement to her home and the bleak picture of tomorrow that the daily news paints. What a shame! I had wondered what the fire department was doing on the main street. They took her out of the third story window with the truck’s ladder.

Another Year Another Onion: Did I mention it’s a New Year? I didn’t even notice that the year had changed, the date passed unceremoniously and with festivities. Again, the police have rebuilt the wall that surrounds this chawl, tightening the perimeter, I’m not sure if it’s to keep Covid out or us in. In any case, food has scarcely made it through the makeshift wall and news is that food supplies will be cut off for 2 weeks, again. In any case, that which makes it in is mostly sequestered by the gangs, anyhow. It’s that I’ve got the most onions mentality(12). Despite rarely eating, I continue to gain weight. Speaking of onions, there are now over nine million confirmed Covid cases and farmers are protesting the price gouging of seeds, stating that “We are the ones who have provided food, milk, vegetables when the whole country was in lockdown, we were still toiling in the fields. It is the government” not gathering in New Delhi “that has put us at risk by introducing these laws during Covid (Hollingsworth et al).” My heart is with these brave men and women and if I had the strength I would be beside them. All things considered, despite the news and friends’ proclamations that a new year brings new hope, this may be an onion of a year too.

The Walls Close In: Yet again, the police have reduced the circumference of the wall. I feel claustrophobic or like I’m slowly, very slowly drowning. I go to bed, but sleep doesn’t come. I hear the rats fight over the last morsels of food in this chawl, when I wake, there’s inevitably a rodent corpse on the footpath in the ally that leads to my house. Food has been cut off for 2 weeks. I gave the last of my supplies to a family, in total it amounted to a pound of rice and a pound of lentils. Now, the cot is less of a fishing net with big holes and more of an empty frame. I lay on the floor instead, will I be able to get somebody to fix it, I don’t know. I have to get my family to send money first.

An Altercation: We are now allowed an evening walk, so I venture out to the usual chants, a ragtag team of would-be thugs follow me. A wave of exhaustion washes over me and my pace slows to a crawl in front of the BJP(14) Office. As I cross in front of the office, beneath the flag, a scrawny slum-bastard walk up and says “are you British?” “I’m American,” I reply. “I hear they call you Hari(15).” I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he speaks. “What of it?” “More like Harry Potter.” “I guess that’s funny,” I say and try to walk away, but he grabs me by the collar and takes a swing, he misses. I return the blow, my fist makes contact with his face. My heart is racing. I fear an all out retaliation when, like roaches from beneath rot-wood, members of the local gang emerge from the alleys and come to my aid. I had been buying tobacco from them, at highway robbery prices for weeks, and so it’s in their interest to act as my vigilante guardians, in some regards, the gangs are better than the police, or at least their corruption and self service is laid out on the table for all to see, where the cops are supposed to protect and serve, protecting and serving often isn’t the case here, it comes down to ethnic and caste schisms.

Two Deaths and a Ghost: It’s another day and the death toll has spiked again. Feeling that I escaped death and death being the only thing the news reports on I begin to wonder, had I been killed by a mob, would my death have been reported as a Covid death? Is the death toll real? There’s a little hospital in this chawl, it’s certainly not inundated with the dying and morticians don’t walk the streets singing “bring out your dead,” as they did during the Black Plague of 1665. In fact, of the 3 who purportedly died in Anand Nagar, one was an elderly with Emphysema, the other was a suicide and the last one, I saw him walking down the street the other day, risen from the grave as by some Covid era miracle. Truth be told, he had gone back to his family home and returned. Not an easy task, much like during the Holocaust, traveling papers are required to go anywhere, there’s not even any trains, minus a few for displaced workers. A combination of lack of food, a growing mistrust of the government’s intention with regards to lockdown and dire times brings these lyrics to mind: My wife fixed up a tater stew/ We poured the kids full of it/ Mighty thin stew, though/ You could read a magazine right through it. Always have figured/ That if it’d been just a little bit thinner, Some of these here politicians/ Coulda seen through it(21).

Are the politicians duped or am I? What about herd immunity? I feel like I’m living in the Dust Bowl, except there’s no storm of dust and the sky isn’t black. The enemy is invisible. Or, am I the enemy? So much for relativism.

Police and Indians: On another outing, again attempting to purchase essentials, those things that whether for sustenance or pleasure, an invisible hand has decided that I may indulge in, I find that even local authorities seem misinformed about the number of foreign nationals in India with Covid. Recently, police stopped me for questioning and informed me that “foreigners are the cause of Corona Virus.” After looking for a quarantine stamp on my hands several times and not finding one they insisted that I run back home and followed me on motorcycles. This was witnessed by several locals who cheered the police on. As the police resounded sentiments of this chawl’s inhabitants, it reinforced negative feelings. I didn’t eat that night. The days following the police harassment, locals continued jeering me by saying “the police will come and hit you,” while mimicking the thwack of a cane on their posterior. Not just are they misinformed, they’d like to see me hung.

Read the Sign: In case you feel incredulous in regards to my claims about placing a stamp on the hands of foreigners and the police’s blindingly Orwellian allegiance to the BJP, the party who blamed Covid on Muslims and foreigners, The National Library of Medicine has this to say about it: tourists who arrived in India from affected countries were put in quarantine for 14 days in their port of arrival, their “left hand was stamped with ink” to maintain the date and time of their home quarantine, “a move that could risk assault, due to stigma towards Covid suspects [foreigners].” Individuals violating the quarantine can be penalized via Indian penal code Section 188, 269 and 270 (Siddiqui). The police, like the locals, are looking for a whipping-post and have a draconian view about foreign nationals in India during this crisis, what a hoot it would be to cane them. Bollywood is no “City of Dreams,” in fact, misinformation abounds here, signs, obviously posted by Conservative and nationalistic Hindu Vegans, reads as so: ‘Ways to avoid Covid/ Don’t eat meat/ Don’t smoke/ Don’t talk to foreigners.’ I no longer see the good that I jotted down in an earlier journal entry. Also, tired of the word “misinformation,” not sure who gets to decide what’s misinformation, although I myself used it in this entry, just tired: days crawl by and the feeling of isolation causes a pressure on my cranium and a meaninglessness to all things.

Mending a Bed: Despite having become a pariah, I was able to get the cot fixed, for a small fee, a tailor was willing to come over, and work against the law, they despise me, but like money enough to look past it. The work doesn’t look great, it’s rigged. Most everything here is rigged. I’m never sure if this is the ingenuity of a race of impoverished people or the result of an attitude that declares good enough is good. In the end, most everything is a hodgepodge of corrugated steel, broken bits of wood and rope with exposed electrical wires that run through water and the elements in general. I’ve always said, if the manpower here became a collected force and decided to stop pollution, get the rivers clean, enforce something like an ADA, demand fair housing they would be an unstoppable force. Instead, they divide themselves along ethnic schisms.

A Pickpocket: Food has returned to the stores and shopkeepers are serving me, but I was pickpocketed at the register. I took my wallet out to pay, right before my eyes a man reached in my wallet and took a 500 out, it was the last of the money I had. I came home empty handed. For the first time since my divorce, I broke down and cried. Now I sit wiping my eyes. Is all hope for humanity lost? I cannot answer. Besides Covid, there’s so much political turmoil! It looks as though there won’t be a smooth transition of power this time.

What I’ve Learned From the Steppenwolf: I’m concerned for the nation’s migrant workers, other visiting foreign nationals and those who descend from Mizoram and Assam, these individuals may be more prone to the psychological effects of loneliness than myself. Culturally, Indian life centers around an extended family, whereas I’m more akin to Herman Hesse’s Steppenwolf. All in all, it’s tough to live overseas in the best case scenario and down-right depressing when you’ve become public enemy number one. But, as I said, I have a tough enough skin to survive this, but there are those who’ve been cannibalized by their own society. Anyway, lockdown should end in 3 weeks, the infection rate is on the decline. We are now aloud out in the evenings and I have taken to sitting with friends in front of the Rukhmini(16) Temple. It’s like the opening line of a joke, a Jew, a Muslim and a Hindu… Among us, there’s a Muslim, a Jew, a Christian and a Hindu priest. All in all, I need them not, but it’s nice to have some companionship, even if there’s little communication. I have returned to good graces.

Family Matters: Although I feel alone, I’m not jealous of India’s family structure. Locals often ask me about my family, casual things like “how is your mother?” “I don’t know. I don’t keep in touch with my family very much,” I respond. It’s a matter of privacy and staying out of gossip. Here, grown men never grow up, they are fed and coddled by their mothers. I had recently met a man who can’t cook for himself, nor wash his own clothes and still occasionally sleeps in bed with his mother. Speaking of men, spouse abuse, along with drinking, is on the rise. It’s not uncommon to see and hear it. Too often, after dark, I witness, when I sneak out for a walk to break the munatiny, men hitting women by the open air temple that my house is adjacent to. Speaking of temples, Hanukkah recently passed. I lit a makeshift menorah, but even that gave me little joy. As for now, the best thing is drinking chai by the little Rukmini temple.

Down With the Wall: The wall has come down! Lockdown isn’t over, but the wall has come down. Alas, air travel has returned, the government has announced “air bubbles” and I’m returning to America. After everything, I was never again treated as more than a second-class citizen in that chawl but it matters not, I’m leaving! In the end, the locals’ reaction to me and the psychological impact of the loneliness, their words and actions heave upon me, have caused deep scars. On a more disappointing note, all local newspapers have declined to publish my recollections of lockdown. An earnest question, were we fed false dichotomies, ones that stated wear a mask or everyone dies and get the vaccine or everyone dies, just for some political experiment or agenda? It’s just odd that after the farmers protested the Covid number began to decrease.

Integrity Intact

No Amnesty for the Wicked: One might say, you’ve survived the worst, why bring this up at all? Isn’t it time for amnesty? I feel the answers to this was best put into words in the video Pandemic Amnesty: Do you Forgive and Forget and so I will summarize what the author said, “there were things that happened that there needs to be a recognition of, and there needs to be a public apology. There needs to be a promise that this never happens again. There needs to be people who actually pay for their behavior, potentially criminal behavior. […] Until the people who did harm admit that they did harm this kind of thing will just keep repeating itself. […] Some people were victims, other people were perpetrators, and then there [were] also enablers (Wand).” For instance, The Deccan Herald reports that there have been “attacks on people from India’s northeastern region […], suspecting them of being carriers of the virus.” Assaulting your own people is like cannibalism, that’s all there is to it! As it was written in the newspaper, apart from being called “Corona” or “Chinki(9)” India’s [Asiatic] people were spat on and forcibly quarantined, despite showing no Covid symptoms, all because of their looks and an ignorant fear that anyone who looks different are the root cause of the Pandemic. Also, they were denied entry into their apartment complexes, evicted, merely threatened with eviction or forced out of restaurants to make others comfortable and none wanted to share transport with them (Karmakar). Of all things, it’s not time for amnesty.

Ignorance isn’t an Excuse: There needs to be punishment for these wicked deeds! There’ll be no retribution for foreigners who suffered in India, but locals, those from minority communities, who had just days before lockdown been upstanding citizens, deserve retribution and possibly reparations. There those who died from the virus and those who died at the selfishness and ignorance of mankind, for those who died by the hand of man have this to say: “To forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time ( Elie Wiesel).” Ignorance, for good reason, has never been, nor shall it be an excuse for breaking laws and committing atrocities. The Atlantic is wrong in their assertion that we should just forgive and forget (Oster). Perhaps, in the name of healing, it’s time to forgive, but should never forget!

A Clear Conscience: During The Covid Outbreak, I may have lost my mind, found myself in complete isolation and on the brink of starvation at times, but at least I kept my dignity. I threw no stones and attempted to obey the laws, even those that actively brought hardship into my life. I defended myself when needed, I live by the adage “walk gently and carry a big stick.” As for the war of the ethnicities in India, I guess it’s none of my business, alone, I can’t defend the minorities. And in regards to retribution for the wicked, my hands are also tied. However, I won’t give amnesty, not in my heart. Forgetting and moving on, as Oster’s article suggests (Oster) is, to reiterate, akin to allowing the cycle to repeat again. In the end, my travels have provided me with armor to protect against cabin fever, I’ve endured hardships and loneliness in remote villages of Nepal and have been “the stranger” in the metropolitans of Hong Kong, Bangladesh… But there are those among the Indians whose identity and self-worth come from a tightly knit family and friend structure, many of which took their own lives due to isolation. Others starved to death because of lack of income and others died due to the rejection of medical services. Luckily, I was not immune to the effects of isolation, but well insulated from the threat of Corona by a chawl that exists off the radar and societies’ fear of foreigners, local inhabitants keep me at arm’s length and so, I didn’t catch the virus during lockdown.

Notes

1: The views herein are not the of WTDA but the author. At WTDA we publish a variety of news, depending on what we deem to be an interesting story at the moment.

2: At the time of writing, Covid hadn’t yet been declared a Pandemic.

3: Citation no longer available at The World Health Organization.

4: The author of this journal wants it to be known that they don’t, nor did they ever, believe that masks are/were an effective way of preventing Covid-19 but were forced to wear a face covering by Indian law. At the time, they obeyed the law.

5: Public.

6: Hyped media, having no real effect on the life of the author.

7: A long scarf worn by Indian women.

8: The Marathi word for neighbourhood which is colloquially used to denote a slum.

9: North Indian slang for India’s Asiatic population.

10: A religion that combines attributes of Islam and Hinduism and originated in India.

11: Guests are G-D.

12: In 2019, due to flooding, there was an onion shortage. An entrepreneur had been hoarding onions. At the time, not only did he declare that “onions are the new gold” he purportedly sold the onions for 3 times the market value. To the author, it serves as a symbol of the selfish psychological state that caused some of the worst aspects of Covid lockdown.

13: A 3 day Islamic spiritual event in India’s capital hosted by a 100 years Islamic Missionary Movement. Due to the cases reaching over 300 after the event, the meme was coined: China is the “producers” of the virus, and Muslims are the “distributors.”

14: A political party, of which Prime Minister Narendra Modi is the leader of. Every neighborhood has a BJP office.

15: A common male name in India and regional pronunciation of the Anglo name Harry.

16: The primary wife of the Hindu G-D Krishna.

17: The name of the slum in which the writer lived during lockdown.

18: A temple in the slum in which the foreigner lived during lockdown. The temple is dedicated to the monkey G-D, a deity who helped Rama in the Hindu epic, the Ramayana.

19: A poker-like card game in which the players make melds with three cards.

20: Mending Wall by Robert Frost.

21: Talkin’ Dust Bowl Blues by Woodie Guthrie.

22: A dance form native to the west Indian state of Gujarat, performed in October to honour the Hindu Goddess Durga. It is also celebrated in Maharashtra. People gather on the streets, dancing in pairs of men and women where they rhythmically click sticks together.

23: The largest ethnic group in mainland China, about 91% of the population.

24: A South Indian dish made of rice and lentils. It’s a comfort food that’s supposed to aid in healing.

25: Brutalist architecture emerged during the 1950s in the United Kingdom, among the reconstruction projects of the post-war era.These buildings characterised by minimalism and bare building materials. They are commonly seen today in old Soviet Union countries and Central Asia, reminding many of totalitarianism.

#lockdown #travelogue #Covid-19 #memoir #India #autobiography #travel #online diary #memories of Covid #Pande #coronavirus #pandemic #mumbai #maharashtra #expatliving #overseas #police #mob mentality

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ventismacchiato · 2 years ago

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i just woke up and guess who saw scara in their dream ME

after the corona virus there was another outbreak called "fei virus" and although it wasn't offical im pretty sure that i got it bc i was struggling to breathe in the dream anywasss when my classmate found out they decided to kill me??? bc they didn't want it to spread?? So scara helped me escape he even stole a car for me🤭 after some time we had a fight about music(?) and he left me alone BUT THEN he realised his mistake and started looking out for me #anotherdayanotherslay

HELP its giving all of us are dead vibes

#kai mail 💌#rosaryia 🥀

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rebeccalouisaferguson · 2 years ago

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Rebecca Ferguson: The first to ask questions in the intview

Ferguson calls via videocall from London and takes the interview in her own hands.

Rebecca Ferguson: Before we start I'd like to ask whats there behind you on the table. Sorry, I like to see through zoom-interviews the rooms of my intviewers.

ICONIST: What particular are you interested in?

Ferguson: The first book in the pile, for example.

ICONIST: I have to take a look for myself now. Here, "Bill Gates. How the prevent the next pandemic."

Ferguson: Oh. Does Bill have some good advice in it?

ICONIST: It's complicated. Gates had already warned of the dangers of such pandemics before the Covid outbreak. He later received death threats because one of his quotes, taken out of context, was used to create the grotesque fake news that he wanted to use the corona virus to microchip all of humanity. With that, we could now seamlessly move on to the conspiracies in your new series, Silo, in which no one knows which stories about human threats are true and which are fabricated.

Ferguson: *laughs* You are right.

ICONIST: The world has been destroyed, 10,000 people have survived in an underground silo, locked up there, isolated from the outside world. Nobody knows what really happened outside. You're not entirely wrong to take this as a depressing parable of the pandemic, are you?

Ferguson: There are certainly many parallels to events that happened not so long ago - the horror of the Covid lockdowns, governments wanting to control their environment, scarcity of resources and the need to recycle in order to survive. Only the novels on which the series is based have been published since 2011. And as an actress, what interests me most is the quality of the storytelling and the characters. When I was working on this role, I didn't think too much about whether the future society in the film had anything to do with today's society. To be honest, I don't want to think about the future of the world because sometimes it gets me pretty depressed. I am aware that I lead a very privileged life and that I am very fortunate. Don't get me wrong: it's important to me to speak my mind, for example I'm fighting for equality at every level. I accept those battles that I am convinced I must fight. Other than that, I just try to be friendly to others.

ICONIST: Your series about the silo society offers less action-packed science fiction escapism, instead it relies more on dialogue. It is reminiscent of Samuel Beckett's end-time visions in his play "Happy Days" - with two actors who are stuck in a mound of earth after an apocalypse, sink into it and console themselves with purposeful optimism about their hopeless situation.

Ferguson: I love your reference to Samuel Beckett *laughs* Makes perfect sense. I've done a lot of research on depression and trauma to better understand the loneliness, grief, and loss that weighs on my character. And I like philosophy. The theses of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Thomas Hobbes, for example, both of which assume the natural equality of human beings, i.e. that humans are good by nature and only become evil through society. It was interesting to transfer such thoughts to the film, to ask oneself: What happens when you condense this thesis and show what happens when many people are isolated in a room closed off from the outside world? And when down there one lie about the alleged causes of the catastrophe is followed by another. Do people rebel against lies? Regardless of the penalties they face? Those were the basic questions that fascinated me about this series.

ICONIST: The series is based on Hugh Howey's internationally successful best-selling trilogy "Wool", which is adored by fans. Did you feel pressure to live up to expectations? There are enough examples of film adaptations of fantasy and science fiction novels that have been torn apart by fans.

Ferguson: No, I didn't feel any pressure. It's great that this book series was so successful and has so many fans. I can only do my best. If people don't like it, that's unfortunate, but then there's nothing you can do about it. However, before I engage more intensely with such a role, I always do a lot of research on fan sites. I spend hours reading all sorts of things there.

ICONIST: Why are you doing that?

Ferguson: Because I often discover interesting details on these sites. For example, if a fan writes, "I love how the author describes how Juliette keeps her hand in a pocket the whole time." That's a small but significant detail. I said to myself, "Great, I'm going to do this the whole time through the shoot."

ICONIST: You say you don't like to think about the future too often. In a podcast "Spark Hunter" published in 2022, you dealt with the currently much discussed topic of the future of artificial intelligence. Actress Trudie Styler, wife of Sting, directed. What appealed to you about recording a podcast – actually more of a radio play – in addition to all your film commitments?

Ferguson: I like Trudie very much. When she called me one day and asked, "Do you want to do a radio play with actor Mark Rylance?" I immediately said, "If Mark Rylance is in, I'll be in, no matter what it is." Then sent me the scripts and I got scared at first.

ICONIST: Why?

Ferguson: Because it was pretty complicated stuff, with a lot of details about AI. It was just hard to understand at first. Mark Rylance voicing the inventor of a female artificial intelligence robot whom I speak. And then suddenly this robot starts to develop feelings, it takes pleasure in provocation and in questioning society. And reveals morbid feelings about human life - it's brilliant.

ICONIST: Sting also has a small speaking role in the podcast. In 1984 he had an unforgettable scene as an actor in David Lynch's film adaptation of "Dune - the desert planet" as the villain Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. There he stands with an oiled naked body, only wearing a futuristic loincloth, which he himself once described as the "first example of flying underpants".

(Rebecca Ferguson is laughing)

You can be seen as Lady Jessica in Dennis Villeneuve's remake of Dune. While working on the podcast, did you and Sting talk a bit about how sci-fi staging has changed over the past 40 years?

Ferguson: We actually did. I remember sitting with him and his wife at a table in their beautiful home at their winery in Tuscany. At one of our long dinners, I asked him, "Do you know what I'm filming?" "No," he said, "what?" Then I revealed to him that we were remaking Dune. And then his eyes suddenly lit up and we went on a long journey in our conversation, talking about what it was like shooting the first film back then, compared to the new one.

ICONIST: And the flying underpants?

Ferguson: (laughs) I won't give you any details, that's between Sting and me.

ICONIST: In winter comes the second part of the Dune film adaptation, in which you again play Lady Jessica, the mother of the young hero Paul Atreides. In the summer you can also be seen again as MI6 agent Ilsa Faust alongside Tom Cruise in "Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning" - and already in the ten parts of the Apple TV series "Silo". it doesn't get any better. Aren't you afraid of overexposure?

Ferguson: No. This is going to be a big year for me, with three very different film productions that I'm very proud of. Things like that don't happen all the time. I don't worry too much about it. I'm damn happy it turned out that way. You never know if something like this will happen again. Actors often come into the limelight very quickly, but then just as quickly go out of fashion. Age is often not helpful either. In that sense, I feel like I'm in a good place right now. I've been very lucky.

ICONIST: It is your third appearance in the Mission: Impossible series and your second in Dune. Is it also important for you to have something like consistency in big blockbusters, in times of intensifying competition between film studios and streaming providers with an unprecedented oversupply of films, in which there are also rows and rows of flops?

Ferguson: It's actually nice that I now know my role in "Mission: Impossible" well, because working on the set is complicated because we often don't have finished scripts. Working on the Mission: Impossible movies is so different from other movies. But that's what makes it so exciting. I know my role, but I'm always getting to know new actors who are in for the first time. In their eyes, I can immediately see what they're thinking when they're on set for the first time: "What the hell…?" Then I just think to myself: "I know that, I felt the same way at first." Then it's nice, when you are already familiar with your role. Lady Jessica in "Dune" is also a cool woman. In the second part, however, she is changed. I won't reveal any details now. Just this much: Your performances in the second part are so different from those in the first that it felt like I was playing a new person.

ICONIST: What does it do to you when you switch from one large-scale production to the next?

Ferguson: Well, while I was shooting Silo, I got a message that I had to do some reshoots on the Mission: Impossible movie. I love that kind of thing yeah You always think you need breaks. Until it suddenly: "We need you for four days in June to reshoot scenes for 'Mission: Impossible'." Then you're suddenly sucked in again. I love that because I love the roles too. It sure would be bad if I had to work on set in a terrible environment. That's not the case. It is great.

translated from German by @edwardslovelyelizabeth exclusively for @rebeccalouisaferguson

#rebecca ferguson #interview #silo interview #dune interview #mi7 interview #spark hunter #dune part two interview

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