#disinfecting gate for school

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Hi I really loved your Xavier one shot and I wanted to request one if you don’t mind <3 So it’s Wednesdays birthday she invites reader and enid who are her roommates to a girls night out but she was lying to them and turns out she was taking them to the old gates mansion to investigate ( basically the scene were Wednesday and enid get in the car with Tyler and end up at the gates mansion just add the reader ) and once there and the monster attacks them reader gets hurt while jumping from the fence and they meet Xavier and go to Tyler’s house and Xavier helps reader clean her arm and when they go back to nevermore he offers her to sleep in his dorm because he had seen the panic she’s in when enids phone rang and she jumped <3 ( sorry it’s really long and detailed I hope u don’t mind it’s friends to lovers btw ) 

It´s done, anon. <3 I ended up changing it up a teeny tiny bit, but I hope you still like it!

You could have called me

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis: You get hurt while exploring the Gates mansion. What comes out of it is something much happier.

warnings: mentions of injury

word count: 1.2k

You suck in a harsh breath as you first feel the sting of the disinfectant on your wound. Your arm instinctively flinching away from Xaviers gentle hands. It isn´t too deep, you were lucky he tells you, but it still hurts like hell.

“I´m sorry.” He whispers in an apologetic tone.

“It´s okay.” You assure him to continue. Your voice barely above a breath as it forces its way through your clenched teeth. Trying to take deep, calming breaths as the alcohol continues to sting your wounds.

“Does it hurt much? The wound?” He asks while taking a bandage to your arm.

You shake your head no. “I can barely feel it. Probably still the shock…”

“Yeah, probably.” Xavier goes back to concentrating on patching you up for a bit.

The silence between you that always had been comfortable now makes you feel on edge.

“Will it look like yours once it is healed?” You let your fingers run over his neck, where his scars stand out from the rest of his pale skin in a pink hue, softly.

“Yeah, I think. It should be deep enough to scar. The monster got you pretty good.” The two of you each huff a laugh.

It feels so good to laugh and as he moves to tie up the bandage you rest your hand on his cheek. His face is so close, that for a moment it feels like you are about to kiss.

That moment immediately gets destroyed by steps coming closer.

“We gotta go.” Wednesday informs you in her usual monotone voice. If tonight has affected her in any way, her face doesn´t show a single bit of it.

You nod, taking your ripped jacket of the chair and heading out of the house. Xavier following close.

The four of you make your way half way back to the school when Enid´s phone rings. The quiet of the night makes the sound seem even louder than it. The suddenness of it, makes you jump.

“Hey, you´re okay. You´re safe.” Xaviers soothing voice brings you back to reality. A reality where you have grabbed onto his arm and your body trembles.

“Sorry…” This time it is your turn to apologize.

“It´s okay.” He murmurs, secretly wishing for you to hold onto him longer as your fingers let go of his arm.

The rest of your way back luckily goes by without any more instances, though you never quite relax.

It´s hard from parting your friends, but especially the safety Xavier´s presence brings you, when you reach the dorms. Wednesday and Enid are quick to leave the two of you out in the dark. In silence.

“I…” You try to say something, but the words die in your throat.

“Do you maybe want to stay with me tonight? Just to calm the nerves…” He speaks slowly. Carefully choosing his words.

“That would be nice.” A thankful expression takes over your face.

He takes your hand and pulls you with him. The contact making your skin feel warm and a sense of calm take over your body.

Xavier leads you up to his room where he lets go of your hand to prepare the empty second bed for you to sleep in.

“Thank you, for letting me sleep here, Xav.” You lay down carefully as to not lay on the wounded arm and hurt yourself more.

“Anything for you. If you need anything else just tell me, alright?” He asks, worry still apparent in his tone.

“Alright…” You echo quietly.

“Do you want the lights on or off?” He looks at you with soft eyes and an even softer voice.

“On, please. If that´s okay.” You hum in response.

“Of course it is. Try to sleep now. Your body will need it to heal.” He sighs and goes over to his own bed.

The lights from his bedside table and desk lamp tinge the room in a soft, warm glow. Under different circumstances you would have thought it to be comfortable or even romantic, but right now as you stare at the ceiling it helps little to lift the anxiety off your chest. The room gets shrouded in silence once more pictures start to flash behind your eyes. Pictures of the gates mention, of running for your life and how those claws tore at your skin.

You don´t remember when your eyes must have fallen shut, but when you look at the time on your phone it hasn´t been long. Your heart is beating out of your chest and a light sheen of sweat covers your body.

With heavy limbs you kick the blanket off and move to the bathroom. The cold water feels nice on your face and helps you think clearly again. Yet, when you step back inside the room, you can´t bring yourself to crawl back into that lonely bed again.

“Xavi?” You whisper. “Xav, are you awake?”

“I am. What do you need?” Comes his answer from beneath the sheets.

“I can´t sleep alone. Can I lie with you? Only for a bit.” You shift your weight from one foot to the other and play with your fingers as you wait for his answer.

His reply comes in the form of wordlessly rolling over to make room for you.

The bed is small and so it forces you into a very close proximity already, but you cuddle up as close to him as possible. His arms laid around your middle and yours on top of his. Your fingertips run over his arms with feather light motions. It´s calming, helps forget the images in your head. Moving up slowly until you reach the side of his neck again. Laying your hand against it, you realize how close you truly are. Xavier´s warm breath fans over your face as you hold yours and then as if you had the same thought at the same moment, you move in for a kiss. It´s languid, but comfortable. It feels like your lips were made for his surprisingly soft ones only. The slow movements never speed up. It´s just you two in your own perfect, safe, little world.

When you eventually do part from each other, your breath comes in heavy bursts. Your eyes switching between his olive ones. Tracing the brown surroundings of his pupil. Neither of them can think of anything to say. Not a single word.

“I could´ve lost you today.” Xavier breathes first. “I love you.”

His confession is overwhelming. “I love you too. You´ll never lose me.”

“No, but I could have. What if that… thing had gotten to you. Or I don´t know something else could have gone wrong. That house is old, you shouldn´t have gone in there no matter for what.”

“Shhh, I know. I didn´t even know where we were going and when I did it was too late to leave. Wednesday was so hellbent on going in the mansion I couldn´t let her and Enid go alone. Not with Tyler. The only one of them wo knows self-defense is Wednesday and even she couldn´t fight off a monster alone.”

“You could have called me…”

Only then it dawns on you both, what you have just confessed with a nonchalance as if you had spoken the words a hundred times before. `I love you´. The three words hang in the air between you. He presses his lips to yours once more. The rest was a conversation for when you had recovered from the night.

[lizzygreywrites]

Can Becca allow herself to trust, forgive and love again?

Rebecca Burns has been running and hiding from her drug-dealing family all her adult life and trusts no one. An injury ended her career in London’s Metropolitan Police, and when she took a chance on love, she discovered Stephen cheating on her. Changing her name, she runs and hides again, despite being pregnant with Stephen’s child. ‘Becca Hills’ and her son live a deliberately quiet life in a London tower block, but when she is involved in a road traffic accident, she finds Stephen and her past catching up with her. Can Becca allow herself to trust, forgive and love again?

Read An Excerpt From Chapter One

They were late for school. Very late. And she had no one to blame but herself. She had forgotten to top up the electricity meter, the power had gone off sometime in the middle of the night and, as a result, her clock radio had failed to wake her at eight o’clock.

Waiting at the pedestrian crossing, she pushed her left sleeve up and looked at her watch. It was two minutes past nine.

“Fuck.”

“Naughty word, Mummy.” Tommy pulled her hand.

“I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said the naughty word. Oh, there’s the green man. Keep hold of my hand, it’s after nine o’clock.”

They crossed the street and she crouched down outside the school gates. She gave him a hug and a kiss, put a clean handkerchief in his trouser pocket and was about to pass him his bright yellow school rucksack when feet approached quickly from behind. She went to straighten up and move aside when she was given a hard shove and she found herself sprawled and winded on the footpath on top of the rucksack. Heaving herself up onto her hands and knees, she peered behind her as a dark-haired woman picked Tommy up and ran across the pedestrian crossing with him.

“No.” She tried to scream, but the word only came out as a croak.

She got to her feet and ran after them onto the crossing as a car horn beeped and tyres screeched on the tarmacadam…

* * *

Okay, this was strange. Why couldn’t she see clearly? Everything was fuzzy but, focusing as hard as she could, she could see the outline of someone sitting in a chair. Reaching out, her fingers found the edges of the bed. It was a single, so she couldn’t be in her double bed at home. So, where was she? Inhaling a strong whiff of disinfectant, her nose wrinkled. Hospital? How had she ended up in hospital? Blinking and widening her eyes made no difference to the fuzziness so, shutting them, she slept.

When she opened her eyes again her vision was clear. Blue curtains surrounded her single bed. She could hear feet rushing up and down outside and someone throwing up a little too close to her for comfort. It could only be an Accident and Emergency cubicle. Rolling onto her back, she winced as her head began throbbing. Fuck. No, don’t swear. Mustn’t swear in case Tommy heard. Tommy! She tried to sit up but couldn’t, she was lying on her hair. Twisting around for the emergency button, she spotted Stephen. Inhaling her breath, she coughed and almost choked.

Sitting and leaning slightly forward in a plastic chair beside the bed, he was holding a lock of her waist-length curly blonde hair in his fingers and watching her without a sound. Oh, bloody hell, of all the officers in the London Metropolitan Police, it had to be Stephen. Coughing, she lay back on the pillow until it passed. Then her head started pounding again and he spoke.

“You’re in the Accident and Emergency Department at St Hilary’s Hospital. You have bruising and mild concussion.” She nodded and instantly regretted it. “What do you remember?”

“What information do you have?” she asked.

“You first,” he replied and she heaved herself up a little on the pillows, spotting huge purple bruises on her elbow and upper right arm, but relieved she was still wearing her T-shirt and jeans.

“I was outside the school gates saying goodbye to Tommy. I gave him a hug and a kiss and I was about to pass him his school rucksack. Then—” She went to shake her head but stopped herself just in time. “Then, I heard feet running up behind us. I went to step to one side with Tommy to let whoever it was pass us but she pushed me over and grabbed Tommy from me. She picked Tommy up and ran across the road with him. I got up and went after them but a car got in the way.”

He nodded. “The woman has been described as tall, well-built and dark-haired.”

“It was Jackie,” she said and watched him shrink back from her.

“Jackie Burns?” he demanded. “You’re sure?”

“You think I’d forget my only sister-in-law and what she and you did?”

“Do you have a current address for her?” he asked, instead of rising to the bait.

“No, I bloody don’t but she’s probably still at the same fancy apartment.”

“Okay, I’ll send some officers there. I won’t be a moment.” Taking a smartphone out of the inside pocket of his black suit jacket, he got up and pulled the curtain aside before going out. She heard him speaking in low but urgent tones to someone and being told to turn the phone off by a female voice.

“When was the last time you spoke to Jackie?” he continued, coming back into the cubicle. “Or seen her?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“And Tommy is how old?” he asked, retaliating at last.

She glared at him before throwing back the bedcovers. Gingerly, she got out of bed, and carefully crouched down at the bedside locker. Opening the door, she saw that her jacket and shoes, handbag and plastic hair clasp had been shoved inside and she began pulling them out, feeling him watch her every move.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not staying here exchanging smart comments with you, Stephen,” she replied, throwing the items onto the bed. Straightening up, she gathered her hair together and pinned it up as best she could with the plastic clasp. “Get a nurse, I’m discharging myself.”

“What? No. Absolutely not. For God’s sake, you’ve got a head injury, you need to be admitted and kept under observation.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “If you won’t get a nurse, I’ll go and find one myself.”

Swearing under his breath, Stephen pulled the curtain aside and left the cubicle again.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they left an exasperated staff nurse behind and waited for the lift to come down from the fourth floor.

“Detective Constable Jan Carter will be assigned to you as your liaison officer,” Stephen told her. “She’s on her way to your flat now. We got your address from the school.”

“Not you?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then, who’s heading the investigation?” she added.

“I am,” he replied, extending a hand as the lift doors opened and she went in. “I’m a Detective Inspector now. So don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.” He followed her inside, the doors closed, and he pressed the button for the ground floor. “When exactly were you going to tell me I had a son?”

“When exactly were you going to tell me you were sleeping with my brother’s wife?”

He sighed. “It happened once. It was the biggest mistake I have ever made.”

Not wanting to stare at him as the lift brought them up from the lower ground floor, she took the opportunity to observe him in the mirrors lining the walls. The black suit he wore was creased, his cheeks were heavily stubbled, and he seemed exhausted. Had he been in the hospital all night with her? If it had been night time. What time was it, actually? She pushed her jacket sleeve up her left wrist to look at her watch but it wasn’t there. She sighed and focused her attention on the mirrors again.

Stephen’s dark hair and stubble made him appear deathly pale but that could be shock, too. Finding her again after so long and discovering he had a five-year-old son was enough to knock anyone sideways. Six years ago she’d thought he was the love of her life but then he’d betrayed her in the worst possible way. How did she feel seeing him again now and hearing his regret? She went to raise a hand to her throbbing head before lowering it, not wanting to hear another lecture on how she should still be in bed and under observation. She just wanted Tommy back. She’d contemplate her feelings for Stephen when she could think straight.

Tailing him across the hospital car park, she watched as he beeped open a black Ford Focus and opened the passenger door for her.

“Who knows about us?” she asked, getting in as he walked around the car before getting into the driver’s seat.

“No one.”

“But you’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Just you watch me. I’m quite good at keeping secrets, too.” He reached for his seat belt. “Look, if you’d prefer for someone else to take over, just tell me.”

“No, but be careful for God’s sake.”

* * *

Following her directions, he pulled up in a car park located in front of three dilapidated 1960s tower blocks.

“Which one do you live in?” he asked, craning his neck to get a better look at them.

“Tommy and I live on the top floor of the middle one.”

“The top?” he echoed and she saw him try to hide a grimace.

The lift wasn’t working yet again so they climbed the stairs to the twenty-fourth floor, stepping over hypodermic needles and used condoms. In a way, she was relieved, who knows what delights they might have seen or smelt in the lift. She waited for Stephen to make a comment but, to her surprise, he said nothing.

A young woman with short ginger hair was waiting outside the flat and Stephen introduced her as Detective Constable Jan Carter. Becca searched her handbag for her keys, hoping they weren’t lying on the road outside Tommy’s school, before finding them beside her watch at the very bottom. She opened the battered front door and the three of them went into the flat, Stephen telling the Detective Constable that he had been given an address and officers were on their way there.

The two-bedroomed council flat was like going through a time warp back to the nineteen seventies. Everything was brown – the colour of poo – as Tommy had once described it. She hadn’t been able to afford to re-decorate yet, except for Tommy’s bedroom with wallpaper she had bought in a closing-down sale, and to paint over the horrific swirly living room wallpaper with the cheapest Magnolia-coloured paint she could find.

“Are you up to being questioned?” Jan asked her gently.

“Questioned?” She threw her handbag onto the ancient, sagging, and bloody uncomfortable brown sofa. “Jackie Burns took Tommy and I want him back.”

“Sir?” Jan turned to Stephen, standing at the scratched chipboard display cabinet examining the framed photographs. He had one of Tommy in his hands. God, they were so alike.

“Tommy’s birthday?” he enquired, looking straight past Jan and at her.

“Yes. His fifth. Take it.”

“‘Concepta aged ten’.” Jan had picked up and glanced at the back of a framed photograph of her as a ten-year-old and which had been inscribed by her mother.

“I’m Concepta,” she explained. “Well, I was. The first thing I did when I left school was to change my name by deed poll. I’m Rebecca Hills now. Becca for short.”

“Concepta – bloody hell.”

“Tell me about it.” She almost smiled. “So, you can understand why I much prefer Becca. At school, I might as well have had a notice tattooed on my forehead with, ‘Bully Me’ on it. Except, no one dared to.”

“Why not?” Jan frowned.

“My original surname was Burns.”

“Burns.” Jan’s face paled. “You’re a member of the Burns family from the East End? Your mother is Ma Burns?”

“That’s right. She had six kids and I was the only girl. You might have heard of my eldest brother, Pat?” she enquired.

Jan nodded. “So Jackie Burns is your sister-in-law?”

“Yes. I haven’t seen nor spoken to her for nearly six years, nor to any of my family for a good few years before that.”

“Why is that?” Jan took a notebook from her handbag and opened it.

“My mother had named me after her mother, so she never forgave me for changing my name. But I’d always felt different – like I didn’t belong with them – and I longed to escape. She’d done her best to turn me into her – so I could take over from her when the time came – or become head of my own family of drug dealers eventually. She sent me away to a posh boarding school and I wasn’t allowed to mix with the local kids when I was home. But I hated my names and I hated being brought up wrapped in cotton wool so I changed my name and I moved away. But they couldn’t – or wouldn’t – leave me alone. Six years ago my brother, John, left Jackie for another woman shortly after they discovered she couldn’t have children. Jackie went to pieces. Somehow, she managed to track me down and she found out I was pregnant. She was jealous. She couldn’t allow me to be happy while she wasn’t, so she slept with my partner. It worked.” Becca gave Jan a bitter smile. “I left him.”

Trust No One is out now on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.

Amazon - http://mybook.to/Trust-No-One

[kidskingdomgo]

SAFETY PRECAUTIONS DURING COVID-19 PANDEMIC IN NURSERY BUSINESS BAY

At Kids Castle Nursery in Business Bay we are fully committed in supporting the health, wellbeing, and continued development of the child.

Since the beginning of Covid-19 pandemic, the nursery has taken extra steps and precautions to make it a safe place where the parents can leave their kids safely.

Kids Kingdom and Kids Castle Nursery has a designated Crisis Response Team to ensure all guidelines and protocols are followed which have been laid down by the various government authorities.

Entry,Pick up and School visits procedures have been redefined. All incoming students have their temperature taken at the gate with hands and feet sanitized. Kids are then taken to their classroom bubble . All bubbles practice social distancing at all times during their time in the nursery.

Kids Castle Nursery in Business Bay is also practicing staggered entry and exit timings for all kids and staff. All bubbles have been given a timing and a designated are to pick up and drop off the kids to ensure safety. All the branches of Kids Kingdom/Kids Castle have adapted an application for contactless check in and check out which also shares daily updates with parents.

No visitors are allowed during the nursery operational hours. All visitors details are taken for contact tracing purposes.

Screening and Contingency Plan

Kids Castle Nursery in Business Bay branch has a dedicated Isolation room which is separate from the Clinic. The Isolation room is set up to handle COVID-19 suspect/confirmed cases. The Isolation room strictly adheres to the DHA guidelines as well as the disinfection procedures as per Dubai Municipality guidelines.Hygiene

Kids Kingdom/Kids Castle Nursery has undertaken, and will continue to undertake, all disinfection, sterilization, and deep cleaning procedures as per the Dubai Municipality guidelines. Common areas in the nursery (i.e., toilets, pantry, waiting areas, etc.) are cleaned and disinfected every hour. This also applies to frequently used areas/surfaces such as door handles, dining tables, seat rests, etc. Daily clean up and sterilization of all areas and surfaces of the nursery premises is conducted at the end of each day.

At Kids Castle located in Business Bay the health, safety and welfare of all student’s staff and parents are of primary importance and all measure are taken to ensure high quality delivery of child care.

Also Check: Nursery in JLT

[angeliki8]

The Hard Yet Joyful College Goodbye

It was August 26, 1998, that is when it happened, the miracle. After years of trying to be able to conceive, Jessica was blessed with two twin girls, Sophie and Sarah. They were born in Barcelona, Spain at approximately 08:24am in the morning. They entered this world as part of the most loving family even with an absent father. Fast forward 18 years, it was not simply just another day for Sophie and Sarah, it was a day they had been waiting for their entire lives. It was a special yet terrifying, life-changing day. The two sisters, dressed in their new college sweatshirts surrounded by a sea of proud and caring faces. Each family member filled with a mixture of pride and sadness, their expressions revealing the internal conflict they were feeling. It was the time to say goodbye. Goodbye through FaceTime. Goodbye to their friends, their family, their five pet dogs and two pet rabbits. Their grandmother, who made sure to always prepare the most delicious home cooked meals they could ever possibly taste. Their grandpa, who would never fail to step in when they needed help with whatever it was - either redrawing Barbie characters from the Barbie movies that the twins made him watch together or if they needed a ride from school. He was always there. Present and Affectionate.

Most importantly, it was a terrifying day for their mother. Their single mother who made all the possible efforts to support her children, and get them to where they were on this day. She felt a sense of loss creeping in but she knew that she had done everything possible so they could be able to have the capabilities of going to a Canadian post-secondary school. She also was aware that Sophie and Sarah were so eager to embark on their next adventure of exploring the college life. She felt a sense of pride and joy, knowing that she had managed to raise two strong, independent women who were ready and responsible enough to take on this journey. Oh, but still she was unsure about how she was going to deal with this change. Her twin daughters meant the world to her, it was always the three of them - no father involved. He was a selfish human, never putting his daughters before himself. Never even tried. The origin of the tragedy of the divorce originated within such complicated events, not worth being repeated.

Sophie and Sarah were sitting at the open space punctuated by rows of black seats at their airport gate, awaiting for their flight to Canada to departure. Canada, a place they had never thought was of reach. A place they never thought they would be at. What seemed like a dream was now reality. The smell of stale coffee and food intertwined with the scent of disinfectant that everyone tends to use especially since the beginning of the pandemic was prevalent.

The realization that it was time came into the twins' minds again. This reminder was heart wrenching but it was indeed time. Time for the goodbye. As terrifying as it was, this day symbolized so much more. It symbolized all the good and all the efforts that were all worth it in the end. Sophie and Sarah got the chance to continue their education, halfway across the world. They had the most beautiful, heart-warming upbringing filled with love and care. What else would anyone desire? However the sisters were also considering some negatives. What if they don't make their family as proud as they want to? What if the pressure to pay them back for everything becomes too challenging? But they could not stop looking at their phone; the grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins all had tears in their eyes. Tears of joy. You could tell from the phone screen. Tears of joy to be actually able to observe the grown up twin girls at the airport ready to take on the world. Waiting...Waiting for the gate to open for departure. That’s what technology gives us. The ability to live these moments even when we are not sitting in the same crowded space. This is its beauty. A rush of guilt would get to the sisters sometimes for leaving their family...but they discovered that leaving home doesn't mean leaving behind the people who matter most. A truly caring family will always be there to support, love and take care of you, no matter where you choose to embark on new adventures. That's the beauty.

[tinystepsforward]

information for aucklanders

we're in a state of emergency for the next 7 days. it's advised that we don't leave our houses if not necessary

if you come into contact with floodwater be aware it may contain sewage. wash everything (on hot, and/or with disinfectant) when you get to a dry place, or at least have a shower asap.

water is currently safe to drink if you have water coming through your taps.

we're still at risk for more flash floods for the next 6 days

on the north shore, reduce water use. don't run washing machines, keep showers short.

people have gotten swept away swimming or walking through floodwaters. avoid if at all possible

emergency numbers

only call 111 if lives are at risk

0800 400 100 for financial help from MSD

0800 22 22 00 for emergency accommodation

evac centres

Saint Leonards Road School, 15 St. Leonards Road, Kelston.

Massey University’s Albany Campus in the Sir Neil Walters Lecture Theatre (enter through Gate 1 of the Massey University East Precinct, Albany Highway SH17)

Manu Tukutuku, 32 Riverton Drive, Randwick Park (accessible!!)

actions to take just in case infrastructure fails

fill some large containers with drinkable water if possible

if not in power outage zones, keep your phone, power banks, any rechargable batteries/lights, and all devices that may help charged. as night falls, make sure you know where torches/candles are.

it's endless data weekend on skinny, spark is providing its free wifi to all people within range, check your data situation and top up now if needed

keep pets indoors and nearby

make sure you know where meds and other essentials are

to keep up

nzherald live updates

rnz live updates

vector (electricity) outage map

watercare updates

auckland emergency management twitter

so auckland received unprecedented amounts of rain and flooded yesterday and our mayor was completely absent for the first few hours of evacuations as things got worse. here's the shit he's said since:

"we need the rain to stop, that's the main issue"

"my job isn't to rush out with buckets"

(defensively) "it'll be interesting to see how wellington copes when the earthquake strikes"

"i don't think [emergency management services travelling from elsewhere] can even find the airport at the moment to be honest"

"it's a bit early to jump to that" (regarding whether this is climate change, to which our minister for emergency management definitively answered yes)

so uhhhhh. he also could not answer if water is safe to drink (yes) and if we had gotten text alerts to tell us to shelter in place (very no, but he said that we had)

much of this from this radio interview | some photos here | some tiktoks compiled here

[furiousstarfishphilosopher]

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[oatmealcrisp-freak]

ive got 2 votes for kuniharu 1 vote for borrowed from aiura and 1 vote for satou so i think according to this what happened is this

kusuo saiki in staging his ultimate plan about 10 minutes before school let out he went to the bathroom with a judicious use of telepathic suggestion allowing him to go that close to end of day

teleported to his dad’s office

stole his phone and his ear buds

disinfected the earbuds in the staff bathroom

(no he’s not invisible his father is just an idiot and for some reason nobody cares that there’s a random highschooler strolling about)

also took that peach tea from the staff fridge (it was his dad’s)

teleported back

erased some of his dad’s apps and files to make room for satou’s preferred music and games (which he downloaded and paid for using his dad’s bank info)

went back to class with a minute to spare before end of day whereupon he collected his things and really quickly got out to the school gate to ‘look cool’

‘lost’ his dad’s phone for a week just to make him sweat but gave it back when his dad got too annoying about it

[rubykgrant]

(For the fun of it, I’m writing a bunch of RVB “Everything is the same, BUT-” stories, basically AUs that only change a few details, but not the entire plot. Here is the beginning of “Everything is the same, But Grif and Simmons met earlier”)

Dick Simmons is determined to make this WORK.

His parents are giving him this ONE chance, and he can’t let them down. Not again. Not this time. It is just too important…

All those bad test scores finally added up. Sure, he had passed all his classes thanks to extra-credit work, and he had graduated successfully, but… not a single teacher had been impressed with him. He stammered through every single presentation and oral report, he never worked well in a group, and when it came to additional activities, he never stood out (he still felt a twinge of resentment… all the things he was actually interested in, he hadn’t been allowed to join. His father had insisted he be part of some sports team, and he was TERRIBLE at sports. His mother encouraged him to try something else, but as usual, she dropped all her little hints that he wouldn’t be good enough for the gifted programs… and ultimately, she was right).

None of the colleges he applied to had accepted him. He didn’t have enough of his own money saved to afford anything on his own (and a future of loans followed by never-ending debt terrified him). Just barely into adulthood, Dick Simmons was suddenly faced with a very bleak future… he has nothing to do. No job. No school. No friends. His family refuses to allow him to simply sit at home and watch TV all day (because then he’ll just develop a bad habit of being lazy and aimless, his mother tells him… and in a way, he believes her). They give him one suggestion; join up. Enlist, and be shipped out to fight the good fight.

That means learning how to use weapons. That means OTHER people will be aiming weapons at HIM.

He isn’t especially motivated to get shot somewhere in outer space, so after getting the silent-treatment for several days, he begs his parents for something ELSE as an option. Eventually, they show mercy and speak to him… they’ll give him ONE CHANCE. Just one, to prove himself. They will pay for one year of classes at a university (not one of his personal choice, it will have to be somewhere that his father has some connections, but beggars can’t be choosers, and that is LITERALLY what is going on. He’s begging, and he has no choice). He’ll have to use his own savings to find a place to live and buy food. After one year is up, if he has managed to get decent grades and impress the professors, MAYBE his family will provide the money for additional classes.

Maybe.

He can’t mess this up. It has to WORK.

Dick Simmons winds up in New York. He arrives two weeks before his classes start, attends several interviews to meet the faculty and get a tour of the campus. The school isn’t very big; actually, it was somewhat cozy and casual… but he still feels intimidated. He has never worked well under pressure, and right now, ALL OF THE PRESSURE is on him. He hasn’t even started any of the classes, but he already feels like he’s behind on his homework.

He hasn’t found a decent place to live, either. Everywhere is so EXPENSIVE. He doesn’t qualify as a full-time student (his parents aren’t paying for all those classes), so he can’t live in the student housing. Even the tiniest, cheapest apartments will drain him of all his savings in just a couple of months… unless he found some roommates. Which is basically impossible. He didn’t even have any friends back home, how is he going to find some now?

First impressions are very important, and somehow, he always did the wrong thing when he tried to meet new people… for now, he’s been staying in cheap motels. They’re dirty and gross, but he can afford to stay here and eat at the same time (he’s not getting in these grody beds, though… instead, he sprayed disinfectant all over the floor, rolled out a blanket, and has been in a sleeping bag. It’s rough on his back, but at least he doesn’t literally feel his skin crawl. He’s not eating any food inside his room, either. This way, he won’t attract any BUGS).

One evening, while walking the route between his motel and the university (so he won’t get lost when classes begin), he passes by the student housing community… and sees some fliers; that weekend, there are going to be several parties to welcome back returning students, and help new students get to know everybody. This could be his big chance! He can meet some people here, people who will be his fellow classmates, people who might also be looking for roommates!

OK, he just has to get ready… he fusses over himself, trying to figure out something to wear that will make him look like a responsible potential roommate, but also doesn’t give out painful dork-vibes (everybody figures out he’s a dork eventually, but hopefully, he can ease them into that). He finally settles on a dark red button-up short-sleeved shirt and jeans. Not quite job-interview-clothes, because he’ll never look like a party-animal, but chill enough that he won’t be mistaken for somebody’s dad. Instead, he just looks like… a very tall and nervous red-head. He tries to part his hair one way, and then the other, unsure of which will look better. In the end, he realizes it doesn’t matter, he looks like somebody who dressed up as the archetype of “Junior CEO” for Halloween. The glasses only add to this, but he knows better than to try the contacts (his eyes will just water and run all night). He tries to slightly ruffle his own hair, so his bangs are a little more loose… that’s better.

When he walks over to the student housing area, he goes a little earlier in the evening than the time specified for the party. His nerves won’t allow him to be late, but he also knows better than to be the first one there (especially when he’s alone). He waits for a while across the street, then starts to see groups of people walking up to the entry gate that leads to the student apartment complex. NOW it was safe to join in. He has his student ID badge with him, and the security guard gives him a little nod when he shows it to enter.

As he looks around at all the different apartment buildings, he sees they have banners on them for different kinds of parties (friends who are reuniting, people who will be seniors this years, different academic and sports groups, ect). He sees one that proclaims this is a party for new students to meet and mingle with their returning classmates, so he decides that’s the one for him.

The door is propped open, and inside people are already in the middle of a party; lots of drinks and snacks everywhere, music blasting, laughing and talking… he’s totally out of his element, but nobody here knows that. He can fake it, he can mingle in a non-lame way. He can make this work. The main party is taking place in the large living room and kitchen on the first floor, but a few people are wandering upstairs. As he glances around, he sees a bathroom down a hallway (maybe bedrooms farther along and around the corner). There are sliding-glass doors on the far side of the living room that leads to some kind of patio, a couple of coffee tables that are cluttered with left-behind paper plates and plastic cups in the middle of the room.

He tries to locate the host, or at least somebody who actually lives in this specific apartment, but it is impossible. People are rushing all around him, he can’t seem to get a conversation going… jeez, he’s ALREADY a reject. This must be some kind of record. He takes a deep breath, and tries to relax. Forcing himself to act like he’s actually open and confident, he waves at somebody, says hello, they smile and hand him a cup of soda. For a minute, he almost thinks this will be alright, but then the other person sees somebody they know, and they’re gone, and he’s alone, and this is just his entire life, isn’t it? He doesn’t know what to do or where to go, nobody wants him around, and he just… he doesn’t even know why he’s here.

---

Dexter Grif is trying to stay positive.

He’s been stuck in a rut for a long time, arguably most of his life, but now he has a chance to change it.

His childhood had been a mess; no structure, no schedule, no reliability… some of it had been fun, though. He got to run around backstage and behind the booths at the circus, something most little kids DREAMED of doing, and when the circus was doing well, he had free treats whenever he was hungry. Sometimes the circus wasn’t doing very well. Sometimes, his parents weren’t doing very well. Being a small child with no control over anything in his life, he was at the mercy of those around him. Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t doing very well.

He started school late, about 5 months after the other kids began kindergarten. That unfortunately became a pattern… in the years that followed, he would miss class, usually because his mom didn’t get him to school on time, and occasionally because he just didn’t want to be there. By the time he was in 3rd Grade, he was considered a “problem child”.

Early on, it was just him, his mom, and his dad. Then his dad was gone. Then his dad came back. Then his dad left again, but now he had a baby sister. Kaikaina was the reason he started paying attention to what day of the week it was, even if his mom still acted like every day was the weekend. Dexter Grif was a big brother now. He always made sure she was clean, had toys to play with, and food to eat. When she got big enough to crawl and then walk, he kept a close eye on her so she didn’t get lost or hurt (well, she got a few bumps and bruises, a couple of scrapes and skinned-knees… because she was also a circus kid who ran around everywhere. Her brother was a very good at fixing up boo-boos, though).

As they both got older, they were left alone more and more. Their mom didn’t always remember to go shopping for them. He still made sure Kai definitely had food, even if it meant giving her all his cereal and the last can of soup. He gets her to kindergarten every day, which is in the opposite direction of his big-kid school, so he’s always late… sometimes he just skips. When he starts getting desperate, he goes into grocery stores and steals packages of cookies right off the shelf, and runs out as fast as he can. When he is at school, he starts sneaking into the cafeteria to raid the fridge, or gets into the back-pack closet so he can go through the other kids’ lunchboxes. He’s considered a problem child, a delinquent, a lazy good-for-nothing…

He’s just hungry. He never wants his sister to feel like this, so he gives her all the food at home, and they keep running out of money, and they need other stuff like soap and clothes, so he takes that too, and he doesn’t trust any of the adults he knows to ask for help, so he’s just… stuck. He’s been stuck in the same rut since he was 5 years old… he wants out.

He wants to try and do something better, BE something better. High school had been torture, some of the teachers seemingly determined to make him give up on ever doing anything, but he still has hope. A few more years go by, Kai is doing alright, maybe now is the right time. She still depends on him, but he also knows she’s sick of her big bro always being up in her business. She’ll never actually start taking care of herself if he keeps stepping in.

He has to try and change. He needs to actually make an EFFORT.

He gets into college. It is mostly because of what he calls a “pity-scholarship”, meaning he’s a disadvantaged youth that college recruiters think would make an interesting success story… but he has to maintain high grades the whole time. If he starts to slip, they’ll cut him loose. He’s hardly a genius, but he’s not nearly as stupid as people think he is. He can do better. He can learn. He can TRY.

It is a bitter-sweet farewell from his sister when he leaves… they both try to keep it light and jokey, her telling him she’s gonna throw a party and trash his room once he’s gone, and him telling her not to do anything that will embarrass the family. Part of him doesn’t want to leave her… because in some ways, she still needs him, even if she doesn’t always want him around, and as stressful as it was, taking care of her has been the one constant thing in his life.

If he stays, he’ll never change. Kai will keep growing as a person, and one way or another, she’ll leave him behind eventually. He needs to grow, too.

He goes to New York, and he starts trying to figure out what to do with his life. It HAS to be different. At least he gets the housing problem solved; going to classes full-time means he gets to live in the student apartments. He hasn’t met everybody yet, but he’ll have a total of 3 roommates (two guys to each room, plus each room has it’s own bathroom, with a shared kitchen and living room… not too bad at all). He’s told by the first roommate he met, an older dude named Cole, that the other guys will show up at the mix-and-mingle party.

Before heading out, he takes the time to put on his brand-new hoodie (literally the first not-used thing he’s ever worn). It’s yellow, but not like neon-sunshine, more like a soft macaroni color (thinking about colors makes him miss his sister... she just didn’t see colors like other people did, and when he described them to her as a kid, he always related them to things she could understand; texture/scent/taste/emotions). He would have liked orange more, but this works for him. He’s got his faded-black cargo pants on, and it looks kinda cool with the yellow. Since he’s already thinking about her, he decides to do what Kai would if she were here, and pulls his hair up in a loose bun (they both had long dark-brown curls, but somehow, his was less prone to tangles, and she liked to play with his hair).

Dexter Grif is looking forward to this; it should be fun, meeting lots of other new students, being introduced to people that are coming back and know how the school works. This was college, the place you were supposed to find yourself, or reinvent yourself… he wasn’t going to be absent kid who always cut class, or the lazy kid who fell asleep at his desk. He wasn’t going to steal food or anything else to get by, he’d find a job somewhere, he’d take care of himself for once. He was going to get good grades, and graduate, and… and who knows what else. On the night of the party, surrounded by so many excited people laughing and taking, he feels like the whole world is brand new. He doesn’t know what will happen, but maybe that’s a good thing; just one of life’s great mysteries.

Somebody ordered pizza, 5 larges, and evidently they’re for EVERYBODY. He slowly makes his way over to a coffee table, reaching out to grab a slice of pepperoni… and it is just about the best pizza he’s ever had. Felling good and satisfied with food in his belly, he looks around, trying to decide if he wants to try and chat with another person...

Then he sees somebody; LITERALLY a wall-flower, back pressed flat against the wall near the kitchen, a cup of soda in hand, looking ready to cry out of frustration.

Oh no, he’s CUTE.

[bkfics]

IV.

The next morning you wake up earlier, so you go to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone, but after a while Ryota wakes up too with Kazuhiko on his back.

‘Ohāyo Okāsan.’ your baby boy tells you with a raspy typical morning voice.

After you greet them, you wonder where your baby girl is, but then she runs with her open arms to you.

‘OKĀSAN!!!’ She screams with a worried tone, so you pick her up as soon she reaches you.

‘What’s wrong honey??’ You ask her with a comforting voice.

‘Okāsan…’ then she starts crying. Ryota starts worrying too and comes to you two and tries to get Kisara from you, but she refuses.

‘O-okāsan my… I can’t find my gel for hands.’ She cries harder.

‘Kisara it’s okay. Niichan will give Kisara his gel for hands okay?’ Kazuhiko tries to comfort her, but she shakes her head.

‘NOOO I WANT MINE! MINE HAD EEVEE ON TOP!’ She yells this time.

‘Yea.. about that.. I might.. hmm.. gave it to Sakusa yesterday…sorry.’ Ryota tells you scratching the back of his head.

‘Why would y-… nevermind’ You tell him sighing.

‘Kisa-chan, Otōsan will buy you a new. With an eevee one, or whatever you want ok?’

This time she nods and goes to Ryota to let herself get pick up.

[Sakusa Kiyoomi POV]

After having breakfast I go to the bathroom to take a shower.

As the hot water starts hitting my head, I start thinking about her, and memories of when we were together in high school. I start smiling and laughing as I remember how I was the first one that fell for her and the first time I talked to her I said ‘Use this mask and stay away from boys... except me or else you’ll get sick.’

‘Why did I even leave you? If I could only go back time. I would go back to 4 years ago and tell you how much I love you.’

‘Whatever Kiyoomi, she already has a family, it’s time to move on.’

I start getting frustrated so I quickly finish showering and go run around the neighbourhood to clear my mind.

Time passes by and parents with their kids keep popping up left and right of my view, so I start running faster, but my shoes are so worn out that the soles are so consumed that a hole is formed.

‘Great! Now I have to go buy another pair. This day couldn't get any better UGH!’ I start yelling in my head as I make my way back home and start getting ready, putting on the necklace I can’t seem to let go of…

[at the mall]

I now just parked my car, making my way inside the mall and going straight at the sport centre, making sure I have my spray disinfectant and hand sanitizer-

‘What is this?.. A hand sanitizer with a Pokemon in it? Why do I have this? Ah right.. Y/N husband gave it to me.. Tch, whatever.’

I go inside and I hear three familiar voices, too familiar for my liking, they are: Atsumu, Hinata and Bokuto.

‘Shopping with my friends!’ Atsumu says taking a video to post it on his story.

‘Wait, you have friends?’ Hinata says with a mocking face while Bokuto tries not to laugh.

I seriously don’t wanna deal with them right now so I turn around, going to the opposite direction, hoping that they don’t notice me. Arriving at the running shoes isle, I grab their new released one, it’s even in our jersey’s color, it’s all black and there's a little stripe in gold, so I ask the employee if they could give me my size of this model. After she gives it to me, I go and pay for it and right at the exit, I get stopped by a woman and a man.

‘Hello sir! Our pharmacy has a new cleaning product and even a new hand sanitizer! It’s better than the previous one, it’s less stickier and has different scents! The new cleaning product cleans better than any other! We’ll be so grateful if you could at least have a look at it! Have a good day sir!’ The man tells me.

I just nod, those new products don’t sound bad, might as well have a look.

The mall’s big and after walking for a good 5 minutes, I see the pharmacy but I bump into someone.

‘Oh, nice to see you again Sakusa.’

‘Same here Wakatoshi-kun and Kageyama.’

‘Are you here to go to the pharmacy too Sakusa-san?’ Kageyama asks me as we start walking.

‘Yes, what about you two?’

‘We were bored so we decided to come here at the mall.. hmm what about having lunch together Sakusa?’ Wakatoshi asks me.

‘Hmm sure, why not.’ I answer him.

We arrive at the pharmacy and get in line.

‘Wow this guy’s so tall’ Kageyama says amaze by the man with purple hair in front of us, eating snacks as he was waiting to enter the pharmacy with his friend too, me and Wakatoshi-kun agree with him.

We then decide to eat first and come later as the line was long.

After finding for a good restaurant not packed of costumers, we order our meals and few minutes later we start eating.

‘Itadakimasu.’ we say at the same time.

While we’re eating, we start hearing whisperings from the people eating inside the restaurant.

‘They are so hot, omg.’

‘I know right!’

‘Let’s sit on the table beside them.’

‘Wait girls, aren't those Sakusa Kiyoomi, Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio?’

‘OMG you’re right!’

‘Look! Sakusa-san is so handsome!’

‘I agree, but wait.. look at his necklace.. Isn’t that a ring?’

‘Oh.. maybe he has a girlfriend already…’

As they keep on whispering, we finish our meals and make our way to the cashier, then we go around the Mall to buy new clothes or things we need for our places. It‘s getting late, so I offer them a ride home since we live close to each other, Wakatoshi-kun is beside me in the passenger seat and Kageyama is in the back seat.

‘Sakusa-san, I’m curios too.. why do you have a necklace with a ring? Do you have a girlfriend?’ Kageyama starts a conversation.

‘Hmm no.. this ring belongs to my first love.. even if we aren't together anymore. I just can’t seem to throw it away and i wearing it became a habit.’

‘If it really means a lot to you, just keep it.’ Wakatoshi-kun adds.

‘Yea.. but, how are you guys doing?’ I ask, wanting to change the subject.

‘We’re doing good, tho our manager took a week of to spend time with Kise-san, since he just came back and will be going back to the States in 2 weeks for the NBA preliminaries.’ Wakatoshi-kun answers.

‘NBA? That’s cool, also who’s Kise-san?’ I ask.

‘He’s that blonde haired guy who was with her and the kids.’ Kageyama answers.

‘Ahh.. the father of that cute little boy.’ I say with a normal expression but feeling sad inside.

‘Ah no, he’s not the father.. he’s just Y/N-chan’s best friend..’ Wakatoshi-kun says..

‘The father left Y/N-chan..’ Kageyama continues.

‘The father left Y/N? He really left her to raise a son alone?’ I ask, irritated by the fact that a man left her alone.

‘A son? She has two kids. They’re twins. A girl and a boy.’ Says Kageyama.

‘Twins? D*mn, he still left them? He’s not a man. He’s a b*stard.’

After some time, I proceed to drop Wakatoshi-kun to his place first, then I drop Kageyama, but before he could open the door, I stop him and ask:

‘Kageyama, can I ask you for something before you go? ‘Cuz I feel like I won’t be able to do it if I don’t..’

‘Sure, what is it?’

‘Can I ask you for Y/N’s phone number?’

‘WOW. So you’re that type of guy, huh? That goes after women with kids..’

‘HUH?! It’s not, you weirdo. I have something to talk with her in person, so I need her phone number to set up a rendezvous.’

‘I’m just playing, no need to get so worked up, chill.. alright, it’s …’

‘Thank you, see you later.’ I say after getting the phone number.

‘Hey, don’t try doing something stupid, ‘cuz you’re not the only one with your head on the line. Also thank you for dropping me off. Bye and drive safely!’ He says while he enters through the door without looking back.

Well, now.. How should I even start a conversation…

[Back to normal POV]

[2 weeks later. Kansai International Airport]

‘Well, I guess it’s time to board. I already checked-in..’

‘Otosan.. are you going away?’ Kazuhiko asks with tears in his eyes.

‘Are you coming back?’ Adds Kisara

‘Of course.. I’ll be back in no time and you won’t be able to notice that I’m back. I’ll be gone for a while, it’s not a long time.’ He tells the twins with a comforting voice while he’s on his knees hugging both of them.

‘So, while I’m away, I want you two to eat healthy, grow up faster, always help Okasan and always smile, alright?’ He adds before letting go of the hug.

‘Hai, Otosan.’ The twins answer simultaneously while crying and hugging him tighter.

‘Alright, alright. Kazu-chan, Kisa-chan. Stop crying or he’s going to be late. We don’t want that, right?’ Kuroko takes the kids with Momoi.

‘Kise-kun, good luck for the tournament. Also, say hi to the others from me. Have a nice flight!’ Kuroko says with Kazuhiko on his arms crying.

‘Say hi to them from me too! See you later!’ Adds Momoi with Kisara crying on her shirt behind her.

‘Ryota-kun, say hi to the others from me too, also, thank you for your help at the house and for the kids too. I hope you enjoyed your rest time here.’ You tell him with a little bow and a smile.

‘Of course I enjoyed it! Also, I’ll always be here for the kids, I’m their “Dad” after all.’ He says jokingly with a big smile.

‘You’re right! Then, see you later, Ryota-kun. Have a nice trip, call me after you land, alright?’

‘Alright, Y/N-cchi, stay safe when you’re going back. Kazu-chan, you’re the man of the house while I’m not here, alright? Kisa-chan, don’t cry and smile a lot, you’re beautiful eyes and smile need to be shown more!’ He tells the twin before he turns and goes to the departure gate.

You’re all still there watching his back between the crowds of people passing left and right in front of you. Before Kise makes his way to the gate, he turns one last time and stops to look for you. Once he finds you, he says something that really shocks the shiz outta you.

‘I-love-you, Y/N.’ He says it like a whisper and smiles at you, not knowing that you understood what he said, then he goes straight to the gate.

You keep thinking of what he just said, while your face shows how surprised you are, it’s probably something not important.. but you know what he said. You read his lips even though there’s an ocean of people you could read his lips once both of your sight met each other.

masterpost | III. | V.

FACTS: 

Sakusa was pissed that a guy left you with two kids alone, but was also relieved that you don’t have a man in your life.. but he’s now hoping that you and Kise are just best friends.

Kuroko and Momoi are dating. 

Kuroko Tetsuya:

Kise is in a NBA team with Aomine Daiki, Murasakibara Atsushi and Kagami Taiga. 

Murasakibara Atsushi: 

Kagami Taiga:

@rrroadkill @samwise-though @lola2001 @velociraptorenthusiast @mjade1321 @farmertoshi @kurosiee @googiembul @hohoshiumi @floralkawa @miwtze @crapimahuman

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“It Was Hard To Breathe, And She Called To Me” -- Cordelia Goode x Reader

Long story short, I had a lot of feelings and anxieties about coronavirus when everything got bad back in March, and this was the product of that. I wasn’t going to post it (for multiple reasons), but after revisiting it I changed my mind. Hopefully it isn’t too rough!

Words: ~3,600

Warnings: Coronavirus, panic attacks, anxiety, hyperventilating, scratching (if anything about wearing masks or claustrophobia triggers you, I would skip this one!)

~Enjoy, my little peaches!~

It hadn’t hit you. The severity of it all, the effect all of this was having on the simplest things. Holed up in the academy, it hadn’t affected your day to day life, besides not being able to go out. Cordelia had strictly enforced the quarantine, but she didn’t let you girls go out during the week anyway, and your weekends were usually spent in her bed, the only real alone time the two of you got nowadays. 

It made the sneaking around more fun, though, having to dodge prying eyes all seven days of the week. Never getting a break from the questions and the constant knocking on Cordelia’s door. Only able to steal kisses in the fleeting moments before dinner or deep into the night. 

You had been so wrapped up in everything with Cordelia and so dead set on not watching the news, that you didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until you actually stepped foot in a grocery store. 

You were all on a rotating schedule for groceries and errands, but so many girls had joined recently and Cordelia always needed you for something else, so you hadn’t gone out for groceries for roughly two and a half months. Until today. 

It was Coco’s turn, but she had come down with a cough and Delia refused to let her leave her room. Nothing serious, she had said, but she wouldn’t let her leave if her immune system was even the slightest bit compromised. 

You had volunteered to go, and Cordelia had looked at you with frantic eyes, but when Mallory innocently offered to cover your chores, there was no arguing, and before you knew it you were masked and gloved and fighting the New Orleans heat to get to the store. 

The streets were empty, a few leaves blowing across the sidewalk in front of you the only sound. It made the hair at the back of your neck stand up, this once lively city now stark still and abandoned. But you brushed the uneasiness away, trudging along and relishing the air conditioning once you arrived. 

Everything had gone well at first. You dug out your list, scratching a few things off quickly as you pulled them from the shelves. But then you were tasked with getting meat, and when you walked down the aisle, everything was gone. There were two containers of wrapped salmon, and that was it. No chicken, no beef, no pork. And you couldn’t pick up the salmon because one of the new girls had a fish allergy. 

Twenty minutes later and you had found someone to help you, had had a garbled exchanged through your respective masks, and were waiting for them to pack you some new meat. Luckily, when you mentioned the school they recognized you and were willing to help. 

After that it was toilet paper and napkins, but that aisle was also practically empty. Signs were put up saying “one of each”, so you grabbed whatever you could find. No hand soap, no disinfecting wipes. 

What felt like hours later, you were snug in your place marker on the floor, waiting to check out. Tugging at your mask and cursing the stupid thing for exacerbating the heat and making the air entirely too thick. You swallowed down the thought that you couldn’t breathe, pushing a panic attack out of your mind. 

You can breathe. It’s just fabric. Doctors do this all the time. 

The woman at the register barely talked to you, only enough to tell you that you had to choose between the toilet paper and the napkins. When you referenced the sign, she clarified that it meant one of any, not one of each. 

You shook your head incredulously as you thought about how sad it was that the world had come to this, and inevitably took too long to make a decision between the two. 

Ultimately, the toilet paper won out. It should have been a no-brainer, given how many girls lived in that house, but somehow, with the panic attack ebbing and falling in your chest, you couldn’t think straight. 

Your heart was pounding by the time the cashier finished scanning and bagging your items, and you tugged at your mask as it slid down your nose with your soft panting. 

You remembered when Cordelia had given it to you, smiling as you tried it on for the first time. She had told you it suited you, and you grinned in the mirror because the blue pattern did look good against your skin. 

That had been almost nine weeks ago. It hadn’t seemed that long, hadn’t seemed that bad. All you had used it for were your weekly walks with your girlfriend, and even then, you were more focused on her hand in yours and how her eyes crinkled around her own mask to notice. 

But now, as you tapped your phone to the keypad and waited for it to process your payment, time started to stretch around you, the past lengthening as the cashier printed your receipt. 

By the time you had left the store, the stress of the world was making the air press in around you. 

And by the time you made it back to the iron gates of the academy, the panic had completely overtaken you. 

Your arms were scratched raw, bags dragging you down and making you feel trapped in your own body. Your gloves were gone, torn through and lost somewhere along the way. The heat amplified the pounding of your heart, sweat pricking your neck as your head churned around the thought that you couldn’t breathe, there was no air. 

Somehow you found your way to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter as the room spun around you. And when the girls started to trickle in and dig through the bags, you pushed past them. You needed to get out. You needed to be alone. You needed to breathe. 

They called after you, voices echoing against the high ceilings of the building, and you dug your fingers into your hair and pulled, desperate for the pain to distract you from your thoughts. 

But you didn’t even feel it, the room tilting and spinning and making you stumble against the walls. 

You found the door to your room on instinct, reaching for the knob and pushing against it desperately when it didn’t budge. You froze, choking on your breath, but then you registered that you had to turn the handle. Then you would be safe. It would be quiet and calm and no one would find you.

No one would find you.

You could choke and suffocate and have a heart attack, and no one would know. 

You twisted, pushed, and the door unstuck, hand slamming hard against wood as you desperately threw it open. 

The door banged against the wall and you flinched, pushing your hands against your ears as your eyes frantically searched the room for somewhere to sit. Somewhere to stay. Somewhere to hide. 

Quiet, quiet, quiet. 

You needed quiet. 

The only thing you could register was your breathing, hard and fast and out of control. It was out of control. You were out of control. 

The room was too hot and you couldn’t get enough air in and you thought you might suffocate, your chest tightening as you pulled and tugged and scratched at your ankles. 

You hadn’t realized you had curled in on yourself, pressed against the wall beside your dresser, but it felt better like this. Safer like this. If you could get down low and tuck yourself away, the world would melt down and nothing could hurt you. 

Don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch.

Footsteps broke through your racing thoughts, steady at first until something clattered to the floor. You flinched at the sound and suddenly heels were clicking roughly against the wood, closer and closer and louder and louder.

You whimpered, digging your face further down between your knees.

“Y/N?”

The voice was warm, panicked, and hands on your shoulders made you cry out, breath wheezing as you struggled to breathe faster, take in more air. 

There was no air in this room. There was no air on this earth. 

The harder you sucked air in, the tighter your chest constricted, pushing it back out of your body and leaving your mind spinning with a lack of oxygen. 

When the person spoke again they sounded farther away, muffled, their words barely seeping into your brain between the pounding of blood in your ears. 

“Look at…don’t…slow down….I’ve got…you can…why don’t…can you….”

You whined against the sound, fingers digging into your scalp. And you hadn’t registered your hands over your ears until they were being pulled down and away and the world was forced back into full stereo around you.

“Y/N, look at me, breathe, you’re alright.” 

“No no no no no,” you started, batting at their hands and digging your palms back over your ears as you rocked. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s just me. It’s me.” Cooing, shushing, pulling for your hands again. Gentler, calmer. Slowly peeling them off of your ears and smoothing them down onto your knees. 

“Stupid stupid stupid stupid,” you mumbled, tears pricking your eyes as warm hands enveloped yours, tracking small circles over the back of your wrists. 

“No, Y/N. You’re not stupid. Shhh. You’re not stupid.” 

Suddenly there were thumbs tracing your palms, rubbing lines and patterns firmly into them. And it grounded you enough that you registered the voice that was talking to you. 

You lifted your head from your knees and looked up with bleary eyes, the room swimming around you as tears streaked down your face. You blinked against them, the light refracting in them too much of a sensory overload. 

But then there were fingers there, wiping at your cheeks and clearing your vision, so soft and so tender.

And she was there. Right there. Close enough that she could reach every inch of you, but far enough to give you space to breathe. 

Something shiny glinted behind her and you glanced over, registering a tray and a shattered tea cup laying abandoned in the doorway. 

Your breathing quickened again at the thought that you had done that. She had dropped that tray because of you. Shattered the cup because of you. A mess. Everything was a mess. You were a mess, that was a mess, the world was a mess.

“Shhh shh shh,” she cooed, pressing her hands hesitantly to your cheeks, the warmth distorted by something rough. “It’s okay. None of that. I’m right here. Take a deep breath.”

Something inside of you shattered with her words, heart plummeting as your chest constricted again. You clawed at your shirt, heat pressing in on you again.

“I- I can’t,” you choked out, pulling and yanking at your collar to force space around you. “I c-can’t breathe, Delia.”

Her name was more of a plea than anything else. Desperation to fix everything, fix the thickness of the air, fix the panic coursing through your veins, fix—

She shushed you again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Sweet girl, let’s take this off, alright?”

And you nodded, assuming she meant your shirt. Assuming she was trying to help you cool off.

But fingers behind your ears startled you, and your eyes flashed open, frantic as they searched her face. She only smiled, soft and delicate as her fingers dug under elastic and pulled, looping the bands of your mask from around your ears and pulling the fabric away. 

You sucked air in like you hadn’t breathed in a thousand years, hands flying out to her shirt and grounding yourself in the satin there. And then you blinked, heart rate slowing as she folded the mask in front of you and set it down. 

You hadn’t realized you had still been wearing it. 

You hadn’t even thought.

Her hand on your chin caught your attention and she tipped your face up so that you were looking her in the eye. 

“Better?” she murmured, eyes soft as she tried to gauge your reaction. 

And tears pooled in your eyes because it was. Infinitely. But not because your mask was gone. It was better because she was here. 

Your breaths stuttered and you sniffed, and then Cordelia was right there, hands cupping your face. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Her brows pushed up as she searched your eyes, and then she pulled your head to her chest, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

You grounded yourself against the feel of her, her heartbeat quick against your cheek, and you could feel her heavy breathing as yours finally slowed. 

Her fingers tracked over your spine, tapping as they hit the bumps of your vertebrae, one by one. She cooed at you, she shushed you, she whispered sweet nothings in your ear, her other hand skimming through your hair. 

Suddenly the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, and just like that, the world felt normal again. Everything aligning and righting and slowing down around you. 

And you broke. 

You cried for what could have been hours, gripping your fingers further into her shirt and twisting and folding and rubbing the fabric together against the pads of your fingers. And all the while she sat with you, rubbing your back and kissing your hair and rocking you softly, back and forth and back and forth. 

By the time your sobs subsided into sniffles you could hear the girls bustling downstairs, pots clattering somewhere in the distance and soft arguments drifting up the stairs. 

Cordelia didn’t pull away, though. Her grip on you stayed constant, wrapped tightly in her arms as her chest pushed into yours with every breath.

She let you break the embrace, sniffing as you pushed a kiss to her jaw and pulled away to look her in the eye. 

“I’m sorry,” you started, the only words you could comprehend after your brain had churned itself inside out. 

“No no,” she chided, finger coming up to shush you. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“But I—“ 

She cut you off again, leaning forward and brushing her lips over your nose. “No.”

You swallowed, nodding softly as she stared you down, a small smile on her lips as she almost dared you to try again. 

You cleared your throat, coughing lightly. “I didn’t know I would have such an issue going out.”

She nodded, brow creasing as her thumb came up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You hadn’t realized you were crying again. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she tried, head tilting. 

You shook your head, unsure that you would be able to put your feelings into words. But somehow they fell out of your mouth anyway. 

“I didn’t realize how bad it was,” you started, fingers tapping against Cordelia’s arm as the empty aisles and numbered tiles flashed through your mind again. “I mean, I had heard you all talking about it, but I brushed it off as nothing. I didn’t— But being there, finding half of the grocery list out of stock… What is happening to this country?”

Your voice cracked as your breaths started to wheeze, eyes searching Cordelia’s face frantically as you shook your head. 

But she shushed you before you could work yourself up again, pressing her hand against your chest and splaying out her fingers. 

“Look at me,” she said gently, eyes soft. You did. “Put your hand on my heart, darling. Okay?”

You nodded, reaching up and mimicking her, spreading your fingers out and pressing in until you found her heartbeat. The feel of it grounded you, and you noted that it was pounding quickly beneath her ribcage.

“Are you alright?” you asked softly, eyes flicking up to hers. All she did was smile, pressing firmly against your chest.

“Breathe with me, darling. Can you do that? Breathe with me.” 

Her thumb tapped against your chest and you felt it reverberate through you, slowing your heart rate. 

“In for four,” Cordelia started, her thumb tapping four times, slowly. 

You complied, inhaling in time with her. 

“Hold for four,” she said, searching your face as her thumb tapped four more times. 

You held her gaze, your heart rate slowing as you held your breath. 

“And out for eight,” she sighed, releasing a long breath as her thumb tapped eight times. 

You watched her as you deflated, the way she was holding onto your eye contact like a lifeline. The way her brow was creased down the middle, just barely. The way color had risen into her cheeks, flushing them a dark pink. 

“There,” she tried, leaning into your hand on her chest. 

There was a long silence, you relishing the way her hand felt against you, relishing the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth seeping through her shirt. 

When you looked back up at her, you realized she hadn’t moved her gaze from your face the entire time. Guilt washed through you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you started, hand falling from her chest. But before you knew what was happening, she had scooped it up in both of hers and pushed it back into place. 

“You didn’t scare me,” she said softly, offering you a reassuring smile. 

You tilted your head, brow furrowing. 

“You worried the hell out of me, but you didn’t scare me.” 

You laughed then, something light expanding out through your chest. And then you were practically tackling her in a hug, wrapping your arms around her shoulders as you squeezed her to you and settled down in her lap. 

“How are you always so strong?” you asked softly, nuzzling your nose against her pulse point. Her hands found your hair on instinct, threading through your curls. 

“I’m not,” she answered quietly, and you hummed as she trailed off. A moment later she found her voice, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You say that I’m strong, but I’m just as frightened as you.”

You pulled back, brow furrowed. “Delia…”

“What gets me through, though,” she continued, fingers trailing from your hair back down to your heart, “is this.” 

You blinked at her, nose twitching. “My heartbeat?”

She nodded, pulling your hand back to her chest. “Do you feel that?”

“Of course,” you replied, fingers twitching on her shirt. 

“That is all that matters right now. Alright?”

You shook your head, brow furrowing. “I don’t understand…”

She leaned forward then, pressing a soft kiss between your brows. “This heartbeat, your heartbeat,” she started, fingers fidgeting against your chest, “is the only thing that matters to me. We do the best we can, day by day. We count our blessings and help people who are suffering. And that’s it. That’s all that’s in our control.” 

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You hummed, pushing your forehead against hers and melting into the feel of her. The comfort of her so close, so strong. 

Her nose brushed against yours as she spoke again, breaking the silence that had settled. 

“We are healthy, we are safe. And that is all that matters.” 

You nodded, fingers finding her shoulders and scratching lightly in acknowledgement. You felt her sigh, and you let out a long breath, the pressure and stress of the day finally deflating out of you and leaving you weak and pliable in her arms. 

Cordelia nudged her nose against yours, prompting your eye contact. She watched you, eyes lidded and questioning, and waited for your soft nod. And as she leaned in and kissed you, softly, gently, purposeful and delicate, you realized that she was absolutely correct. As long as you had her, nothing else mattered. 

She cupped your cheek as she deepened the kiss and you parted your lips, moaning at the comfort of her and the warmth that was pooling through you at her touch. The familiarity. The inevitable protection that came with it. 

Before you knew what was happening your hands were up under her shirt, sitting straighter in her lap so you could roll your hips down over hers. Her mouth was locked to your neck and your eyes were screwed shut. Until you heard a thump outside the door and a soft “Miss Cordelia?”

Your eyes flew open as Cordelia froze and you had time to register one of the newer girls standing wide-eyed in the doorway. And then there were fifteen more girls there, all piled around each other, mouths agape. 

You heard one of them whisper “I knew it!” and then you dissolved into laughter, burying your face into Cordelia’s shoulder as she chuckled in your ear. 

Madison’s heels came clacking down the hallway before either of you could say anything, and as you lifted your head from Cordelia’s shoulder, you met her eyes.

“Oh come on, you pervs,” Madison groaned, batting at the girls and reaching for the door. “Don’t you have better things to do than peep on a lame-ass make out sesh?” 

The giggling subsided and the door clicked, and you pulled back, looking at Cordelia.

Your brow popped. “Lame-ass?”

She shook her head, biting down on a smile. “Make out sesh.”

You cackled at her sarcasm, and the way she was looking at you — her smile growing yours, yours growing hers, her eyes entirely too hungry for your own good — you thought that maybe being quarantined wasn’t the worst thing, after all. 

Tag List: @thatgirlintheleatherjacket​ @shineestark​ @duchessfics​ @darling-dontforgetme​ @midnight-lestrange​ @nerdaroo​ @pradababey​ @mssallymckenna​

[spiritualgateway]

The crisis virus

written by Steven Black:

While you look around and get the impression that the whole world has gone crazy and is going nuts, you have to realize: This is all perfectly normal and has happened over and over again. With the pest plague, the cholera and the Spanish flu – people reacted with unreasonableness, resentment and rebellion, against ordered measures.

With the plague, people selectively believed that bad winds, an unfavorable constellation of Mars, Jupiter and Saturn or the contaminated water were to blame because the Jews were poisoning the wells. As a logical consequence of such thinking, persecution of Jews throughout Europe occurred. Entire Jewish quarters were burned down and their inhabitants murdered.

Oh yes, a punishment by God was also possible. Even then, in the early 14th century, quarantine and isolation were ordered – as a very late measure.

In the case of cholera, 1831, quarantine and isolation were also applied. From the chronicle of the german city Stettin of this time, one learns:

„The burial of the deceased, buried in a special newly built churchyard […] aroused fear and horror, especially among the lower classes of the inhabitants. These precautions were made even worse by the complete blockade of traffic, which deprived a large part of the inhabitants of their livelihoods and probably also their means of subsistence. The lower classes could not bear this state of affairs and, believing the most absurd rumors, saw in the precautions taken only the means to their perdition.

„The prolonged duration of the cordoning off increased the bitterness, the excitement grew with each passing day, so that the workers most affected were finally inclined to use force to overturn the hated coercive rules.

„…because the agitated crowd, misled by some troublemakers, was under the delusion that cholera and security measures were only being used „to exterminate the common rabble.

The Spanish Flu, 1918 – 1919, rolled over the globe in three successive waves and claimed millions of lives. Conjecture and conspiracy theories arose among the most diverse peoples. Some saw the disease as the devil’s work of German agents, and Germany was suspected of either using insidious biological weapons or poisoning aspirin tablets from the pharmaceutical manufacturer Bayer in order to win the world war. Another theory, widespread at the time, was that the flu had been imported from Spain in tins, which had been poisoned by the Germans who had brought the Spanish canneries under their control. Or it was oraculated that the cause was consequential damages of the war by poison gas missions, which were caused by the exhalations from the mountains of corpses of the battlefields. And of course there was also the evergreen that it was a punishment from God …

First with the second wave, the danger was really recognized and flu alarm systems were introduced, quarantines were imposed over ports and railroad stations, isolation stations in hospitals were set up. „Social Distancing“ was ordered, mass gatherings were prohibited. Schools, theaters, markets and churches were closed. The use of face masks and disinfectants was recommended and in some areas made mandatory by law.

Those who refused to wear face masks were fined. By the way, later studies proved that the prohibition of mass events and the requirement to wear a mouth-and-nose mask reduced the death rate in American cities by up to 50 percent. Where it was not prescribed by law, i.e. only announced as a recommendation, there were many more deaths. The same thing is currently happening in Sweden.

The Corona Virus – today

100 years after the Spanish flu, a new medical crisis is entering the global stage. And just as with the plague, cholera and Spanish flu, where fear and uncertainty accompanied the daily events, the most colorful rumors and theories are flourishing. There seems to be a lid for every pot.

Some political party sees the Corona virus as an obvious foreigner epidemic. Logically, migrants must be to blame for it too. Within the extreme right groups the old perennial argument is active that the Jews are to blame for Corona.

Many vaccination critics freak out at the name Bill Gates, who allegedly wants to decimate humanity and enslave it with microchips. He has the WHO, the media and Angela Merkel personally in his pocket. Then there are people who believe that the new 5 G technology is the real cause of the Corona virus. The Qanon community believes that the virus is merely an excuse for Donald Trump to free thousands of poor, tortured children from underground tunnels.

There are an ever increasing number of people who believe that the virus is nothing more than a normal flu. There is also the idea that this Corona virus does not exist – it would all be just an excuse to get rid of cash and have a controlled financial crash. The usual suspects also know exactly from whom and why – of course to enforce the infamous New World Order, either by the „Deep State“, the „Kabale“ or the „Illuminati“.

A few fundamentalist church officials also took up the same cause:

In a text entitled „A Call for the Church and for the World – to Catholics and all people of good will“, signed among others by the German Cardinal Gerhard Ludwig Müller and initiated by Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano, former Pontifical Ambassador to the USA, the Corona measures were sharply criticized. The signatories had previously spoken out against bans on worship because of the corona virus and they are all arch-conservative opponents of the current pope. The text stated: „It is a fact that under the pretext of the Covid 19 epidemic, in many cases inalienable rights of citizens have been violated and their fundamental freedoms have been disproportionately and unjustifiably restricted, including the right to freedom of religion, freedom of expression and freedom of movement.

It was further stated that there is reason to believe „that there are forces that are interested in creating panic among the population. Their goal is to permanently enforce „forms of unacceptable restriction of freedom and the associated control over persons and the persecution of all their movements“. „These illiberal attempts at control are the disturbing prelude to the creation of a world government that eludes all control“.

Personal note: By the way – dear church idiots: What about the „forms of unacceptable restriction of freedom“ of my mind, by your religious doctrine? Or „the associated control over persons“, where you let people slide around on their knees and establish a sense of sacrifice by having a figure nailed to a cross worshiped? But a „God’s world government“ would be all right with you, wouldn’t it?  

Anyway, I don’t really expect an answer to that. But what else you should know – the signatories represent an arch-conservative, right-wing current within the Catholic Church. They fervently hate the current pope because he accepts homosexuality and divorce as facts of life and is open to pro-migration and capitalism-critical positions. It is also no coincidence that these clerics of all people are waving their fear of a „new world order“ around. The whole thing is organized by a notorious ultra-right-wing populist – namely Steve Bannon. The man who brought Donald Trump to power through tons of fake news and conspiracy theories.

By the way, there are strong indications that the art product „QAnon“, a fictitious Internet personality, is a product of Steve Bannon. He is the thinking head and mastermind of the so-called new right.

The American government, led by Donald Trump, sees itself as the victim of a Chinese conspiracy initiated either by a mysterious „Deep State“ or preferably by the Democrats – which is one and the same thing in his case. Evangelical clerics see the Corona virus as a punishment from God for homosexuality. A handful of doctors contradict the official statements and believe that the Corona virus is little more than a common flu. The population would get scared over nothing and wearing masks would be very unhealthy. And in the chest tone of conviction, many an empathy-free idiot rambles that it would only affect pre-existing patients who would have died soon anyway.  You know, just collateral damage …

In the USA, the president himself is the main accelerator of emotional states. There were protests against the curfews in several US cities and about 3000 demonstrators, some of them armed and wearing Trump campaign caps and flags, took to the streets in Michigan. Encouraged by Donald, who tweeted „Free Michigan,“ dozens of gunmen entered the parliament building in the city of Lansing.

In Germany and Austria, people suddenly took to the streets and demonstrated against the corona measures of their government. Against an alleged panic-mongering, against an allegedly intended compulsory vaccination, against the curtailment of their basic rights, against an allegedly threatened freedom of opinion, against the obligation to wear masks, against an alleged „Corona dictatorship“, against a „New World Order“ by Bill Gates and much more. What one would not have thought possible before, happened now:

People who call themselves „leftists“, right-wing conservatives, neo-Nazis, people of the freeman movement, spiritual people, and also people who had never been involved with any of the groups mentioned before, stood together in a public square and chanted „We are the people“. And of course they did not wear masks, and of course they did not keep a „minimum distance“. With righteous indignation they held flyers in their hands where „The Basic Law“ is written on them and lamented a loss of it. Although the basic right to personal liberties was only limited due to the situation and receded into the background in favor of the basic right to personal integrity of EVERYONE, suddenly not only the Corona virus seemed to mutate.

A wide range of people suddenly mutated into virus specialists and health experts, legal luminaries and political insiders. It was not at all helpful if individual physicians and virologists publicly held different views, which are not in accordance with the scientific consensus. These people were suddenly elevated to „heroes of „truth“ and made anti-witnesses of the establishment.      

Like moths to a flame, all the discontented, angry opponents of the system, critics of capitalism, right-wing populists pouring oil on the fire, bawling bald-headed people and „Merkel must go“ yellers flocked together and mingled with yoga practitioners, meditators, as well as people who simply wanted a „better system“. Emotional fire accelerators like KenFM, Sven Liebich, Lügenstöckl, NPD offshoots and various AFD supporters moderated the „happening“ and it did not take long until this situation led to the foundation of a new party – called „Resistance 2020“. Founded by Victoria Hamm, the Sinsheim swindle doctor Bodo Schiffmann and the Leipzig lawyer Ralf Ludwig.

The appeal of „Resistance 2020“ continued as long as Covid 19 and the restrictions imposed by governments were highly active. In the meantime this has abated. First the chairwoman Victoria Hamm stepped down from the party (because of internal differences of opinion), her replacement, the chairwoman of the supervisory board of „Humanimity“, Sandra Wesolek, also threw in the towel soon after. And now also the founder and vice-chairman of the party, Bodo Schiffmann, has left Resistance 2020. Only Ralf Ludwig remains, who keeps the coma patient „Resistance 2020“ alive.

In conclusion – it will not yet be completely silent about the topic Covid – 19, but it slowly fades in its importance. At least for the moment. If we are lucky and there will be no 2nd or third wave, it will stay that way.      

Crisis intensification

Another topic has now captured the attention of the world, people and media – a topic that has never been completely absent: racism and police brutality in the USA.

The violent death of the African-American George Floyd, after a police operation, was followed by peaceful protests in the USA, but there were also riots and looting. And as in dealing with the corona virus, Donald Trump shifts to denial of the structural problem, puts the blame on others and does just about anything to pour even more fire into the heated atmosphere.

Under the hashtag #blackllivesmatter, which has been known since 2013 and is a name for an African-American civil rights movement, people are gathering again to demonstrate against state arbitrariness, police brutality and unfair treatment of dark-skinned people. Previous slogans of the movement, such as „Hands up, don’t shoot“, „White silence is violence“, „No justice, no peace“, „Is my son next?“ are being used again, including the now popular „I can’t breathe“ and „BlackOutTuesday“.

It is no longer just a movement of the „black community“. Within just a few days, numerous politicians, celebrities and large companies have raised their voices and spoken out in favor of the BlackLivesMatter movement. More and more representatives of the video game industry are also joining in. Sony, for example, has refrained from presenting the new Playstation 5 due to the current situation. But also companies like Microsoft, Activision, EA, Massive Entertainment, Square Enix, Bethesda, Naughty Dog, Disney, Marvel, Warner Bros, and many other global big players made clear statements against racism and expressed their solidarity. Over 50 influential companies have donated large sums of money to the movement.

Yes, Soros‘ Open Society Foundation is one of them (about $33 million), but is rather outdone by all others, especially FORD Foundation and Borealis Philanthropy (about $100 million). Also worthy of mention are the Hill-Snowden Foundation, Solidaire, the NoVo Foundation, the Association of Black Foundation Executives, the Neighborhood Funders Group-Funders for Justice, Anonymous Donors, and many more.  

It is already becoming apparent that this issue could potentially break Donald Trump’s neck and prevent his re-election. „Poor Donald“, after his mismanagement in the Corona crisis became visible to everyone, now police brutality and racism challenge him. And here again he reacts headlessly and impulse-driven instead of showing presidential leadership. Instead he meets the problem in the familiar perpetrator-victim reversal tactic.

Incidentally, the same thing happens as in the Covid 19 demonstrations in Austria and Germany – extreme right-wing „withe supremacy“ agitators mingle with the demonstrators. They incite people and loot, start brawls and set fire to buildings. Incited by Donald Trump, who simply claimed that it was „the ANTIFA“ that was firing up the demonstrations, his followers do everything in their power to discredit the movement and make it look bad in the eyes of the public.

In a series of messages, a Twitter account called „Antifa US“ had called on protesters to march into neighborhoods and „take what is ours“. Twitter itself had cleared up the fact that behind this account „American Identity Movement“ is the extreme right-wing formerly known as „Identity Evropa“, that was behind the protest and deleted the account.

Blacklivesmatter is a movement that I wholeheartedly endorse. What I find less good about it is that this conglomeration of people is happening on the streets while the corona virus is still highly active in the  world. There is also no question of keeping a distance, a large majority can be seen wearing masks during the protests, but not all of them. I fear that this will have some unpleasant consequences. But the German demonstrations against a „Corona dictatorship“ and against police arbitrariness and brutality by blacklivesmatter could not be more different.

The sense of demonstrating against a world domination by Bill Gates and an alleged forced chippings or because one is forced to wear a mask temporarily stinks against blacklivesmatter. This is about addressing really important issues of the human species. The core statement of „Blacklivesmatter“ is – “ stop treating us like shit!“

It did not take long, of course, for the rumor mill to start bubbling on this topic as well and the „usual suspects“ went peddling „THE truth“ about it to everyone. You know, from „it’s all a government diversion“ to George Floyd wouldn’t be dead. It would all be a false flag operation and George Soros would be behind the protests. Xavier Naidoo also tells his followers about it and although the man from Mannheim had his own experiences with racism, he is not too stupid to devalue the blacklivesmatter movement. He described the demonstrators who are now taking to the streets against racism and police violence as hypocrites. And ends with a whataboutism rant – „anyone who comes up with an organization called Black lives matter is a divider“.

Naidoo justified his statement by saying that for him all lives count. Sounds plausible on the surface but clearly demonstrates that he did not understand the fundamental problem at all. Naidoo parrots something he has probably read or heard from Alex Jones or another opponent from the disinformation movement. The blacklivesmatter movement has been struggling with such whataboutism arguments from the beginning, since 2013. Not surprisingly, „All Lives Matter“ is often used as a counter-argument by the racist „white supremacy“ groups.

Barack Obama found good words for this: „I think the reason why the organizers use the term „Black Lives Matter“ was not because they wanted to imply that other lives do not matter. They are saying that there is a specific problem in the African American community that does not exist in other communities. This is a legitimate problem that we need to address.

Sounds logical, right? It is. Let’s say you broke your arm and you go to the doctor. He won’t tell you – „all bones count“, but will turn to the current problem. The bone that is just broken. If your house is on fire, the fire department will not tell you “ all houses caunt“ – they will simply put out the fire.  

If you come to blacklivesmatter with alllivesmatter, you are part of the problem not the solution. This tries to ignore or disguise the problem by directing the criticism behind it to another topic.

It is definitely crisis – and virus time

A virus form that is completely unknown to most people is going around and is at least as infectious as Covid 19. They are mental and emotional viruses. Positive, negative, destructive and constructive viruses of all kinds. Created by humans every day and they influence all humans, more or less.

We are usually not used to accept the idea that our thoughts as well as our feelings and the words we utter have substantial meanings. Substantial is literally meant here – both thoughts, emotions and words contain substances that act as carriers of their expression. Through which the respective content of thoughts, feelings/emotions and words is transported, which always involves an „inaudible“, complex bundling of frequencies and takes on form, sound and tones. We do not „just think“, we generate a thought form for it, depending on the intensity of our respective thoughts – a kind of „pale being“.

And we do not „just feel“, we generate emotional signatures that can be perceived, „read“, felt and recognized by other people, consciously or unconsciously. We do not „just talk“, our words always convey a large context of mental and emotional content. Whoever listens carefully can often discover contradictions in the words, because the transported feelings are not in harmony with them.

As the person we are, we resemble a piano. We are a musical instrument with many keys and tones, with which the most diverse vibration frequencies can be expressed. Depending on how well we have learned to handle our instrument and how the individual tones are tuned, it will decide how harmonious or disharmonious our personal sound, our own melody, is. Everything we think, feel, say or do sounds through us and creates sounds that are received by others.

The more sensitive a person is or the better he can listen, the more contents of his counterpart he will be able to perceive. How aware someone is or is not of these levels, however, is basically irrelevant. The thought forms, emotional content, sounds and frequencies of other people are also perceived unconsciously. Basically, we all speak through individualized codes – the spoken or written words mean nothing in themselves. The linear arrangement of symbols (letters) that form words has a meaning for us because they are charged with emotional and mental sounds that form a kind of overall picture. We all encode such images on a daily basis and send them out from us. And we all decode every day a huge accumulation of sent consciousness images – which we have either seen, heard or read.

How much we are influenced by the opinions of other people or media – their generated images – depends to a large extent on our own identity structure. And on the respective topics that are founded in it.

Our exchange of information and images becomes a virus – either constructive or destructive – when it spreads in wide circles and becomes more and more emotionally charged. Our thoughts, emotions and the words we speak not only influence ourselves, but also other people. This means we infect other people with our ideas. And other people infect us with their ideas. If an idea or assertion fascinates, impresses, captivates or outrages us, it can go so far that we forget the origin and, spurred on by the charge of an idea, run amok with it.

All of us together are embedded in a collective frequency field, which is reflected in personal, national and global situations. None of us is virtually „an island“, we all manipulate and influence each other. We can hardly escape this, unless we have no contact to other people anymore. But even then it would probably be difficult to escape the collective astral field.

The collective field contains positive, negative, destructive and constructive viruses of all kinds. We encounter emotional and mental viruses all the time, but nowhere in such a concentrated form as in the „social media“. In this respect, the Internet is a single, gigantic virus slingshot. And all of us who make use of it cannot get away with it.

The opinion of others

The technical development of the Internet has made it possible for us to be exposed to a storm of opinions and views on a daily basis in a way that has never been possible before. About 22,510 GB of data are fed into the Internet every second. That is about 2 billion GB per day (exactly 1,944,864.00 GB [2015]). YouTube has a monthly data volume of about 16 Exabyte (Exabyte = 1018 Byte). About 3 million videos per hour are consumed on YouTube. There are 1. 012 315 000 websites on the net. About 16 million of these websites are hacked annually.

About 4 million new blog entries are written every day, 80 million photos are uploaded to Instagram, 618 million „tweets“ are posted – that is 7130 tweets per second. Facebook processes 2.5 billion pieces of content, 2.7 billion likes and 300 million photos every day. All in all, this adds up to a daily data volume of more than 500 terabytes, just for FB alone. About 4 billion search queries are made daily via Google and 10 billion videos are viewed on YouTube. And these numbers will increase, the rush on our inner senses will become more and more intense.

One drama after the other is being chased through the internet every day. An ever-increasing number of bloggers and websites vie for our daily attention. And hardly anybody takes the time to ask themselves, is it really true what I hear or read? What is it really about? And what would be even more important: Does it really have anything to do with ME? Is this really MINE? Or did I just get infected with an emotional virus that is related to a personal topic?

Although we humans generally assume that we have reasonable opinions and justifiable arguments, or that we see the world with clear eyes – this is rarely the case. Each of us lives in our own reality and we all believe that the world is as we secretly assume it to be. The perspective of how we see the world is largely based on the filter of our own beliefs.

One of the effects that has come through the Internet is the amazing development that many people have become aware of how the mainstream press often reports manipulatively or at least with omission – and sometimes doesn’t present the whole picture. By the way, this is not the fault of the press. Nobody can cover all sides of a story, and certainly not in a single article. If you want to know halfway exactly what’s going on, you have to make an effort yourself and look at different perspectives. But the same people then believe every shit that somebody says on YouTube. Actually, many people today don’t believe anything anymore.

But „alternative facts“ to the corona crisis, you believe them. Doctors who are not virologists or virologists who have not been up to date in this field for a long time, we listen to them more than to the top specialists.

We believe that a statesman who uses victim reversal as a means of perpetration. People who lament with a chest sound of the conviction that the Basic Law is in danger – we let ourselves be influenced by that. We reject a black civil rights movement because we allow ourselves to be persuaded that this means that not all lives count. One encounters „BlackLivesMatter“ with WhiteLivesMatter or „AllLivesMatter. Or if someone once again complains – „you’re not allowed to say all this anymore“ – we agree with indignation. Not realizing that he/she has just said it on Facebook, Youtube, Twitter, blogs, etc. Which of course leads the statement ad absurdum, but somehow we don’t really notice it anymore.

A youth movement for environmental awareness, „Friday for future“, is met with „Friday for poverty in old age“. Renewable forms of energy, such as wind turbines that generate renewable electricity, are met with „but they kill innocent insects“. If you read somewhere, in any newspaper, that right-wing extremist violence has increased again in the last year, you don’t have to wait long for someone to comment „hey, what about left-wing violence? A women’s movement for sexual abuse and violence is countered with the argument that there is also abuse of women against men. An African-American movement against police brutality and structural racism is countered with „and what about racism against whites? Particularly deep-seated – „what about racism against Germans?

What is actually wrong with us?

Why do we let „whataboutism arguments“ manipulate us? Why can’t we see through the transparency of such cheap maneuvers and recognize that they distract us from the actual core of a situation or a justified criticism and divert our attention to another area?  

Besides all the positive and constructive things the Internet stands for, there is also a dark side to it. Among other things it is misused for a modern form of witch hunts and witch burning. Angela Merkel, Greta Thunberg, Barack Obama, George Soros, Bill Gates, the Rothschilds, Rockefeller and many other public figures are burned at some Internet stake every day, applauded and cheered. And this comes not only from the right, but from all sides. If you look at the comments on such postings, you can observe the violent reactions, where a storm of indignation, anger and hatred is unleashed, which is then projected onto the designated persons.

The art of differentiation seems to have become a lost art.

There is such a variety of information and opinions, often colored by interests, sometimes just imaginatively lied about and only partially true, that it would basically take some time and energy to separate the facts from rumors and lies. A personal effort that hardly anyone is willing to put in, or perhaps doesn’t have the time.

But that is what we all have to learn.

Media competence

Without media competence, we run the risk of drowning in the flood of information. Not only reading texts, but also watching YouTube videos or films today requires more and more critical discernment. The critical filtering of information, comments, text content and the images offered in addition, is proving to be an ever increasing challenge. Today, for every x any topic, completely different and often contradictory opinions are in circulation. And we are experiencing the phenomenon that people often only read the headlines of articles and not the whole article. The attention threshold has become extremely low for some people. Headlines alone can lead to emotional convulsions …

It is important that we learn to understand how communication works and how information affects us. When we read or hear words, we don’t just sort the meaning of the words and sum them up in a particular context. We also record all the unsaid, the energetic, mental and emotional signatures that the speaker or writer gives to their words. It is already scientifically known that in communications, brains are synchronized. To a synchronization of brain waves that goes beyond mere speech processing. It will not be long before we discover that this synchronization does not only occur in spoken communication, but in any kind of communication, even when the information is transported via screens.

If we identify with what someone writes or says because something within us resonates with it, then synchronization occurs with the mental, intellectual and emotional content that is presented to us. Emotional content of all kinds affects the heart field, the glands and the electrochemical energies of the body, i.e. the energetic environment in the body, which causes either an increase or decrease of the personal energy level.

The question that arises is, what do I focus my personal attention on? And can I think for myself or do I simply take over every piece of information offered to me, which includes concepts and perspectives from other people that I usually don’t even know? If we take over everything that strangers prepare for us, we are condemned to walk around with concepts that are not our own.

But the only person who has a responsibility here, what kind of information he lets into his system, is me. The only person who is able to differentiate between the information and my personal feeling about it is me. The only one who can learn to check the opinions of others is me. Nobody will do that for me.

Nevertheless, it is also true that constant effort, investigation, checking and research is no guarantee for a secure knowledge – sometimes you are simply confronted with the fact that you cannot know at the moment! But you can learn to endure that.

What we see is in my eyes, in many respects, an expression of a massive crisis of orientation and a resulting upheaval. Humanity is beginning to define itself anew, once again. We are moving from an age where people were rather „prisoners of their consciousness“ and their experience, to an epoch where people understand that they are NOT their consciousness. But that his consciousness is an attribute, a quality, his very own being and his creative power. And how this is expressed, lies in his very personal responsibility.

The old psychological self of humanity, which accepted oppression of the weak, predator capitalism, perpetrator-victim conversion, wars, exploitation of earth and humanity, will be replaced. But this old energy is struggling for survival. Hard and fierce. We are far from being through this.

One thing can be sure – the next crisis is waiting. And again it will be driven through the Internet village in an over-dramatized way. Where will you stand then? To which side will you then give your spiritual support? What will you be guided by? Your reason and your own views after you have dealt with the situation to some extent or will you follow the emotional pull that was triggered by the opinions of others?

What kind of sound will you add to the overall melody?

Until next time same station

DISCLAIMER: Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth. My perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

THE INFORMATION SPACE

[scarofthewind]

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader || Farm Life AU (Pt.2)

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you are all enjoying your days! I updated my blog once again, sorry for the confusion. All tags are at the bottom of the post!

Warnings: Foul Language, farm au, Ushijima being a jerk, aged up au

word count: 1.6k Tip jar 

pt.1 | pt.3

The first two weeks were like this; you would try to talk to Wakatoshi and be nice, and he would be the absolute worst to you. His cold words and harsh tone didn’t sooth the aching in your heart that you felt every time he looked at you with those pretty olive colored eyes. He was different no doubt, but you knew it was because of you that he’d become like this. You left him behind without a moments hesitation and expected him to be happy to see you; boy were you wrong. 

With a heavy sigh, you brushed some hair from your face as you sorted through the chicken coop, collecting all the eggs you could find. A beautiful red hen sat on the top tier and stared at you with her little beady eyes. “I don’t know what to do about him.” You said to the chicken who titled her head at you in confusion. Reaching up, you gently petted her head, watching her eyes slowly close in affection, before you turned and left the coop, basket of eggs in hand. 

Your eyes caught sight of Wakatoshi walking through the back garden, a variety of carrots in each hand. He stopped walking when he looked up and made eye contact with you, causing you to lower your gaze and head inside the main house. 

The kitchen was bustling with noise and the grandparents both smiled at you when you set the basket of eggs down. “Oh goodness, look at all those eggs. Better get a few cartons and fill them up - we can sell those are the market today.” The grandmother grinned, watching as her grandson walked in, carrots in hand. “Are there more?”

“Lots.” He replied bluntly, setting them in the sink and rinsing them off. Both grandparents watched as you stood back to back from him, trying your hardest not to say anything. Flipping through the newspaper, the grandpa mumbled something under his breath earning a glare from his wife. 

“How about you two sell at the market today instead of us?” She suggested with a knowing grin. Your head shot up to look at her as well as Wakatoshi’s, disbelief on both of your faces. “Just like old times.” She smiled, watching as you nodded, packing more eggs in cartons. 

“Did you clean or disinfect those?” Wakatoshi said coldly, watching you stiffen and look at the eggs in your hands. He scoffed and you felt your face heat up with embarrassment. You couldn’t admit that you weren’t told to; you didn’t want to embarrass his grandmother. 

“I forgot.” You said meekly, your heart hammering in your chest. 

Wakatoshi let out a breath, “Of course you did.” His words made your heart sink lower into your chest and you heard his grandfather snap at him, causing him to walk out the door. 

“Don’t worry about those, I’ll do them. You just go get cleaned up and we can go to the market together.” Grandmother said, watching you trudge off with a sad look on your face. “Those two are going to kill me.” She sighed, watching her husband look at her sternly. 

“They’ll come around. He’s just being an ass because he got his feelings hurt.” Grandfather chuckled, earning a small hum from the woman as she continued with the eggs. 

*

It had been years since the last time you came to the market, but it was just how you remembered it. There were a lot of people wandering to various booths set up in the middle of town. Grandmother sat beside you, waving off another customer who had bought a few heads of corn. “What do you do for business in the winter?” You asked after bagging up an order of various vegetables for a customer. 

“We sell winter vegetables mainly; squash and all those good things. Last year I finally got enough blackberry’s and strawberry’s to make jam and those were hits.” She told you as your customer payed and left the booth. “If you freeze the fruits during the summer and fall, it preserves them long enough to make jam to sell in the winter.” 

You nodded, finally sitting down for a second and watching everyone walk around. Scanning the area, your eyes landed on a familiar face and you immediately stood up. “I’ll be right back.” You told the woman next to you who waved you off. 

Walking across the street to a booth that had many varieties of chocolates, you caught the eyes of a all too familiar boy who ran at you full speed. “(Y/N)! You’re back!” The red head swept you up in a hug, swaying you around a bit before letting you breathe. “I haven’t seen you since high school, how have you been?” Tendo grinned down at you with wide eyes. 

“I’ve been good. I came back for a few months to help out at the farm, what about you?” You asked, watching him step back and point to his booth. 

“I’m a chocolatier. Went to a big fancy college for it and everything.” He smiled and handed you a piece of chocolate, watching you eat it. 

“This is amazing.” You gasped, savoring the way in melted on your tongue effortlessly. “I’m so happy for you, although I didn’t think I’d ever see you doing this.” You laughed. There was no doubt he looked different for sure; he’d aged like fine wine and his hair was way shorter than you remembered. However, he still held that boyish charm. 

“Me neither. After graduation, everyone parted ways and I decided to go to this college in the city and here I am now. I actually get to go all over Japan and next spring I plan to grow my small business.” He said, referring to the booth. “I already have offers in the UK.” He grinned and you beamed at him.

“That’s so great, Tendo. I’m glad you were able to find a new paradise.” The boy nodded and helped a customer before turning his attention back to you. 

“What about you? I know you left first out of all of us third years- where did you go?” He asked. 

“I went to America. I had a good job offer there that would also pay for my training and any college I would want to I took it.” 

“So that’s what happened.” He said as though he was connecting the dots to something in his head. “You’ve seen Wakatoshi then?” You nodded and he rubbed the back of his head. 

“I know I hurt him by leaving, but why did he stay here? He was going to be big and famous from some club he was a part of.” You said and Tendo shrugged. 

“He never told anyone why. Even Semi couldn’t get it out of him. Which by the way did you know he’s a musician now?” The two of you continued to chatter about other classmates and their futures before you decided to make your way back to your booth, not without Tendo giving you his number of course. The rest of the day was calm and when the sun started to set, you packed up what was left at your booth and headed back with grandmother. 

The drive was long back to the farm and you found yourself dozing off a bit but waking up when you heard the front gate screech open. With a yawn, you got out of the car and helped take the rest of the food inside, setting it down on the kitchen table and looking out the window above the sink. You could see the barn from there and inside you watched as Wakatoshi took a horse from its stable, walking it to the back probably to get washed. 

Mind made up, you walked to the barn with a headstrong approach. Making your way to the back, you found the horse and him standing next to it, but it was not getting washed. Wakatoshi tightened the saddle on the black beast and was about to slip his foot in one of the stirrups to get on when you spoke up, “Why did you stay?”

His head snapped towards you and the horse looked at you as well, curious as to who you were. It turned and faced you, inching towards your slowly but getting stopped by the man holding its reigns. “That doesn’t concern you.” He replied coldly, watching you roll your eyes. 

“Well what about Tendo. Remember him? Your best friend from high school.” You watched as his olive eyes widened, “Yeah, I saw him today and he said he had no idea why you stayed. Strange.” The man in front of you narrowed his eyes at your assumption.

“I stayed because someone had to. Everyone else left, so I stayed.” He sighed, mounting the horse and turning it around to leave the other end of the barn. 

“You were going to make something of yourself and because of a breakup, you decided to waste your life here.” You said, causing him to halt the horse’s movements. He turned slightly in the saddle to look back at you. A heated glare in his eyes made you want to cower. 

“I’m not wasting my life and it wasn’t a breakup.” He scoffed, watching your face pale slightly, “How can two people break up if they were never together in the first place? You said it yourself, (Y/N), we were never good for each other.” With that, he turned and rode out of the barn, leaving you standing there with a heavy heart and a twisted gut. 

tags: @cloudswritings​ @jtsgjdfjg​

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Part 31 - Choice

“I want you now,” she hisses into your ear.

“One of those rooms,” you say from her neck between kisses, “we can-“

“No, I want you now,” she says, her tone strong, adamant. You watch the passion and need burning strong in her eyes as she breaks apart from you and takes you by the wrist, leading you to a secluded corner of the thankfully deserted parking garage, one out of sight of the main routes and covered at least partially by shadow and large parked vehicles.

When you reach the rear of an expensive looking sedan she finally turns to face you, and you waste no time resuming your fierce kiss, your lips crashing against each other once more. She cups your face in her hands and you reach down and cup her cute, firm ass with both of yours, giving her butt a squeeze before lifting her up and quite literally dropping her onto the trunk of the sedan.

Jeongyeon lets a yelp of surprise out as she is deposited on the vehicle, and you return her smile as you watch a devious, lusty smile appear on her cute features. She spreads her legs to allow you between them, and she grabs you by your collar before pulling you toward her and crushing your lips with hers. You quickly tear yourself from her mouth to resume your work on her neck, your hands finding and squeezing her thighs, her short dress quickly riding up her waist to reveal more of her perfect, long legs.

---

 "What the hell are you doing here, Momo?"

 Hirai Momo doesn't seem to have heard your question. Her eyes - those large, expressive eyes of hers - are glued to the large navigational screen embedded in the front console of the van as she tries to find an escape route in Seoul's complicated downtown road grid.

 "Left here. Lose them in the tunnels!"

 "On it," answers the driver, a small, youthful looking girl that would've looked right out of high school were it not for the multiple small tattoos decorating her left arm. She changed lanes and jerked the van in and out of Seoul’s rush hour traffic with an ease that seemed at odds with her appearance - where exactly did such a girl get experience with getaway driving?

 "They're in a black SUV, a block behind us," calls out another occupant of the van - the flight attendant that had been on your flight from Hawaii, "we've almost lost them!"

 "Try to keep us still, goddammit," chirps the third newcomer, another youthful looking girl, as she tries her best to disinfect and bandage the gash on Yoo Jeongyeon's cheek despite the constant rocking and turning of the vehicle. Jeongyeon winces as an alcohol pad is applied to her face. The wince turns into a grimace as the third girl does her best to wipe away the blood running down the IT specialist's face and onto her neck.

 "Is she okay?" Momo snaps, turning to the third girl and watching as she places a bandage on Jeongyeon's cheek.

 "I'll be fine," Jeongyeon answers through gritted teeth.

 "She'll be fine," the third girl echoes with a sarcastic smile as she finishes placing the bandage. Jeongyeon's face scrunches in pain as the bandage is pressed against her wounded cheek.

 "Watch our rear. And jam their comms! I don’t want them calling for backup,” Momo shouts, not once taking her attention away from the traffic in front of her. 

 "On it!" replies the flight attendant, looking away from the rear window of the van to operate a laptop. The third girl takes over her position at the rear of the van as the flight attendant types away at a terminal with admirable concentration given the instability of the vehicle.

 "They're blocked, but not for long," she announces a moment later.

 "Get us out of here, Chaeyoung," Momo says once more to the driver, her tone a little more insistent now.

 The driver - evidently named Chaeyoung - doesn't answer immediately, but the rapid jerk of the vehicle, and the loud honk from what was probably a recently cut-off commuter, tells you she was doing her best. The van weaves between lanes, Seoul's downtown core flashing by outside the tinted side window in a blur of concrete and glass that suddenly turns into the darkness and artificial light of a tunnel. 

 "They're gone! They didn't see us go into the tunnel. We've lost them!" announces the third girl from the rear of the van.

 "Take us home," Momo orders the driver, letting out a sharp breath of relief.

 "Gladly," the driver replies, her driving slowing down somewhat to a more normal speed as she tries to blend into the mass of commuters.

 "Momo!" you say once more, eager to finally get her attention, "What are you doing here?"

 Finally satisfied that you were no longer being chased, Momo sits down on the floor of the van and faces you, giving you her attention at last. There is a look of frustration and anger on her face, as though the act of rescuing you and Jeongyeon was the last thing on Earth she had wanted to be doing.

 "I'm here saving your ass," she hisses, before crawling along the floor of the van to join the flight attendant in the rear of the vehicle, where they both quickly begin to discuss something on the screen of the laptop. The third girl busies herself with putting away the medical supplies she had been using on Jeongyeon, offering you a soft smile as if in apology for the brusqueness of Momo's reply.

 Momo's cold reaction to you stings more than it should - you'd been relieved beyond belief that she was there to rescue you and Jeongyeon from potentially being captured by SM, but you certainly weren't a reception like this. You weren’t expecting her to treat you like she was your girlfriend again, but you certainly weren’t expecting the cold shoulder she was giving you, either.

 Jeongyeon crawls next to you, looking like a little bit of a mess given her bandaged cheek and scuffed knees. She manages to give you a weak smile as she rubs her sore knuckles, which were beginning to bruise after their recent forceful introduction to an SM guard's jaw.

 You take her hand in yours and rub her knuckles for her. The both of you sit in silence for the rest of the ride.

 ---

 When the van stops, it is in what appeared to be a middle class residential district of Seoul, filled with massive, soaring apartment blocks that each looked almost exactly the same from one another. Space was at a premium in the South Korean capital, and such large scale apartment blocks were a common sight. They also made for an ideal way to lose any potential pursuers, given each building’s identical appearance and large, often labyrinthine layouts.

 The van parks in a vast, gated underground parkade beneath one of the buildings, finally coming to a stop on the third level down. As soon as Chaeyoung puts the vehicle in park Momo and her team exit it and gather up their gear with practiced precision, as though they had done so a million times before. 

 Jeongyeon and you hop out of the van last, trying your best to stay out of the way of the four girls as they pack up various electronics and cameras into large duffel bags and plastic bins. You try to help one of them, the flight attendant, with a large black plastic carrying case, but she refuses your help by hefting the large container on her own, not even bothering to make eye contact with you. Only the third girl, the one that bandaged Jeongyeon, offers any glimmer of friendliness, giving Jeongyeon a short bow and a quick thank you as Jeongyeon helps her retrieve a large black duffel bag out of the back of the van.

 Jeongyeon approaches Momo, her arms spread as though she were intending to hug the Japanese girl.

 “Momo, thank yo-“

 "We have a few safehouses in this building," Momo says quickly, interrupting Jeongyeon as she tosses you and her each a key fob, "You two can use those for tonight. We'll talk more in the morning. Be at the cafe across the street at 9am."

 Without further word Momo and her team head towards the nearest elevator with all of their gear and equipment in tow, leaving you and Jeongyeon in the cold darkness of the parkade.

 —-

“Jesus,” Jeongyeon says once Momo and her team are out of earshot, “what the hell is her problem? You’d think she didn’t want to rescue us.”

 “I don’t know,” you answer, similarly dumbfounded. 

 “What do you wanna do now, boss?” Jeongyeon says, rubbing at her wounded cheek as she faces you. You move closer to her, and without thinking you bring your own hand to her cheek. Her hand covers yours as you cup her face and she nuzzles her wounded cheek into your palm. Your eyes catch hers, and you are overwhelmed - with gratitude for her and the way she put herself on the line for you. She gives you a soft smile.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 “I’m fine… we’re both okay, that’s all that… matters…”

 Jeongyeon’s words trail off as you step closer to her, your eyes locked on one another as your faces drift closer and closer together, your lips so close you can feel the exhale of breath from her nose. You weren’t quite sure what brought you two together so quickly - perhaps it was the leftover adrenaline rush from the day’s events, perhaps it was thankfulness and gratitude that you were both safe, perhaps it was relief that you at least weren’t alone in a strange and unfamiliar place under radical circumstances. 

 Regardless of the reason, when your lips finally press against each other you both feel yourselves give in to what was eventually about to occur. The first few kisses are soft and gentle, but they quickly become more passionate and heated as the leftover adrenaline from the day’s excitement, from having so narrowly avoided extreme physical danger, is redirected into physical desire.

 Your hands wrap quickly around her tall, slim body, and she reciprocates by wrapping her arms around your neck as the kiss deepens and continues to heat up, your tongues quickly duelling now, exploring each others’ mouths with reckless abandon, passion and need quickly blinding and overruling your judgement.

 You break the kiss and quickly place a few pecks on her sharp jawline before reaching her ear and placing a soft kiss there. Not able to resist any longer, you quickly dive into the warm, perfect skin of her long neck.

 Jeongyeon lets a wordless sound of desire escape her lips as you devour her neck, her hands curling up the back of your head, her nails digging almost painfully into your scalp. She pushes herself against you, and you delight in the feel of her soft breasts and wide hips pressed against your body as if she is trying to melt herself into you. She stands on her tiptoes and tilts her head in an attempt to present more of her neck to your exploring lips.

 “I want you now,” she hisses into your ear.

 “One of those rooms,” you say from her neck between kisses, “we can-“

 “No, I want you now,” she says, her tone strong, adamant. You watch the passion and need burning strong in her eyes as she breaks apart from you and takes you by the wrist, leading you to a secluded corner of the thankfully deserted parking garage, one out of sight of the main routes and covered at least partially by shadow and large parked vehicles.

 When you reach the rear of an expensive looking sedan she finally turns to face you, and you waste no time resuming your fierce kiss, your lips crashing against each other once more. She cups your face in her hands and you reach down and cup her cute, firm ass with both of yours, giving her butt a squeeze before lifting her up and quite literally dropping her onto the trunk of the sedan.

 Jeongyeon lets a yelp of surprise out as she is deposited on the vehicle, and you return her smile as you watch a devious, lusty smile appear on her cute features. She spreads her legs to allow you between them, and she grabs you by your collar before pulling you toward her and crushing your lips with hers. You quickly tear yourself from her mouth to resume your work on her neck, your hands finding and squeezing her thighs, her short dress quickly riding up her waist to reveal more of her perfect, long legs.

 Her dress may have left most of her legs bare but it was annoyingly high cut, stymieing your desire to move your kisses down her chest. Jeongyeon lets out a little giggle as she realizes what the cut of her dress is keeping you from doing - she cups your head in her hands and quickly gives you a peck on the lips before placing one hand on the top of your head and pushing it down her torso, and between her spread legs.

 Jeongyeon is wet, to say the least, the dark dampness on the tiny, thin black thong she is wearing evidence of her arousal - you were a little surprised by the level of her desire, but given the circumstances and the intense desire in your own body you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised at all. It only heightened your own need to taste her, devour her, and make her yours.

 You quickly pull the front of her thong to the side, revealing her moist, wanton flesh, and while you usually took your time when pleasuring a girl with your mouth you knew this wasn’t one of those times - no, this was quick, “thank God we’re alive” sex - it was no time for slow, gentle lovemaking.

 The long, drawn out sigh that Jeongyeon makes when you give her a broad, wide lick from the bottom of her slit to the top is evidence that she, too, wants it quick, and fast, without any further delay between her and the pleasure she so desperately needed. She leans back and spreads her legs even further, her eyes drunk now with need as you delve back between her soft thighs.

 Savouring the bittersweet taste of her juices on your tongue, you slowly move your tongue to her dripping clit, the tip of your tongue reaching out and giving her another broad lick, and then a third, until she is a squirming, writhing mess atop the car trunk. Satisfied that she was ready, you quickly plunge in, capturing her engorged clit with your lips, using the tip of your tongue to swirl around it in soft but consistent circles.

 Jeongyeon is a mess now, all vestige of decorum or patience long having fled from her. There was only need, and pleasure, and the desire for an outlet to the adrenaline fuelled lust in her young body.

 You savour the feel of her hot, wet, squirming flesh beneath your tongue as she gives in to her pleasure, continuing the pace and strength of your pressure on her clit. You bring your right hand to her opening, your fingertips finding and teasing her splayed, drenched lips before slowly entering her body with one, then two fingers.

 Jeongyeon lets a long moan escape her lips - evidently the entire apartment’s population could have showed up to watch her turn into a mess as you ate her out on the trunk of a stranger’s car and she wouldn’t have given a damn, wouldn’t have wanted you to stop. Her hands press tightly against the back of your scalp, her hips and thighs quivering, writhing back and forth on the cold metal of the car as you work your magic between her thighs. Your fingertips are one knuckle deep inside her, playing almost lazily with her slick folds.

 “Put them.. put them deeper in me,” Jeongyeon hisses, her words light on the air as she struggles to maintain her composure.

 You aren’t one to deny her, and you slide your fingers deeper into her body, curling them so your palm is facing upward. When you find the rough patch of flesh at the front of her pussy she lets out a sharp exhalation of breath, her fingers digging almost painfully into the back of your scalp.

 “Fuck… fuck!”

 You continue your work on her clit, upping the pace just a little bit, enough to make her want more, enough to bring her to the edge. Your fingers swirl in circles inside her, rubbing and pressing and teasing that patch of flesh.

 “Oh… Oh god!”

 Jeongyeon climaxes, and her body jerks almost uncontrollably as the orgasm courses through her body, her legs closing tightly around your head and covering you in the warm softness of her thighs. Her juices flow freely from her slit and onto your open palm, drenching it in slick wetness - it was the strongest orgasm you’d ever seen her have, likely fuelled by the day’s events and the circumstances that you found yourselves in.

 You wind down your work on her clit and your fingers inside her give her a few more lazy touches before you slowly withdraw them from her body, her walls clenching around your fingers as though not wanting to let them go. You savor the taste of her on your tongue, lapping up her freely flowing juices with one last lick before finally rising from beneath her flushed thighs. You bring your right hand, absolutely drenched with her, to your mouth, licking her wetness from your slick fingers, swirling the slick juice in your mouth like a fine wine.

 Jeongyeon is an absolute mess, lying there with her legs spread on the trunk of the car. She lets herself rest for a moment as she lies back on the rear window, her chest heaving as she struggles to regain her composure. You smile devilishly at the sight, and you bend to give her a kiss, her tongue entering playing with yours as she tastes herself in your mouth.

 “Fuck me,” she whispers, and you weren’t one to delay any further, quickly unbuckling your belt and pulling your jeans and boxers down, finally freeing your stiff shaft. As luck would have it the car is a sitting at the perfect height - perhaps the suspension had been lowered? Either way, Jeongyeon reaches down, just as impatient as you, and gives your cock a few quick strokes before placing it at her wet, dripping opening with one hand and pulling aside her saturated thong with the other.

 You enter her quickly, not wanting to delay the pleasure for a moment longer. There would be a time, hopefully soon, when you could take your time with her, truly make love - but this was not it.

 Jeongyeon is wet and slick and hot around you, her body so perfect in every way inside and out. Her pussy, slick and wet from recent orgasm, tightens around your shaft like a vice, quickly adjusting to your girth and wrapping it with hot flesh. After just a few strokes you quickly find a rhythm as you pump in and out of Yoo Jeongyeon’s body.

 “Harder, fuck me harder,” she hisses, disapproving of your pace, “fuck me hard.”

 You submit to her demands, and soon you are fucking her with hard, stiff strokes, your shaft pumping out to a little more than halfway before driving once more inside her body. Nothing else exists save for her pussy wrapping tightly around you as you fuck her on the trunk of the car, the squeaking of the car’s suspension, the slap of your hips against hers, and the quickly rising gasps of pleasure from her lips that are quickly filling your ears.

 Your left hand clutches her right thigh, but you are desperate to have more of her, and so you reach down with your right hand and squeeze her left breast through her dress, cursing again how it was keeping you from truly having your way with her body. Jeongyeon senses your frustration and squeezes the back of your hand as it plays with her breast, a devilish look in her eyes as you continue to fuck her.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck that feels so good!” She says, uncaring now about how loud she was being or whether you would both be caught here, fucking openly on the trunk of a stranger’s car.

 “You’re so fucking tight, Jeongyeon.”

 “You’re so.. so fucking big inside me… fuck… you’re stretching me so wide!”

 The dirty words spilling out of her mouth only heighten the lust in your body, and you step up your thrusts, releasing your palm from her breast to bring both hands to her thighs and using them as leverage to drive yourself deeper and deeper into her pussy. You watch intently as your shaft spears in and out between her legs, her juices absolutely drenching your cock, her moist, glistening lips pressed tightly around your hard flesh.

 Drunk on lust, you want more, want to have more this young woman’s body, want to take the pleasure from her body that you so needed. And so you quickly pull all the way out of her before pulling her off the trunk as well and turning her around, pressing a palm on her back before pushing her down and bending her over the trunk.

 Jeongyeon quickly catches on to what you want, and she is perfectly happy to let you have your way with her if it meant more pleasure. She bends over the trunk, spreading her legs and arching her back to ensure the right angle. You push the hem of her short dress over her hips, pull her annoyingly still-present thong to the side, and once again enter her hot, wet pussy, your cock spearing into her body with such force that it drives her against the car’s trunk.

 “Fuck yes!” She yelps, dismissing any fear you may have had that you had entered her too deeply, or that your thrust had hurt her in any way as she is pressed against the vehicle. Taking that as license to continue, you reach down and squeeze the firm cheeks of her cute butt before beginning to fuck her to your heart’s content.

 You’d had Jeongyeon from behind before but never like this - never after a day when you both had looked danger in the eye and laughed and just barely escaped from its clutches - and she is tighter and hotter and wetter than you remember, her body feeling absolutely heavenly around your cock as you pump in and out of her pussy.

 You watch as Jeongyeon’s hands search for something, anything on the trunk of the car to squeeze and keep a hold of. You smile wickedly as you slap her right cheek with an open palm, delighting in the red mark it left there. The deviousness of your smile deepens when you notice the puckered opening of her ass between her round cheeks, and you tease her other opening lightly with your thumb, earning a yelp of surprise from Jeongyeon’s lips that soon turns into a sultry moan when you slowly press your thumb tip into her anus, not penetrating - just teasing.

 All the while you are fucking her harder than you ever had.

 This was sex at its dirtiest, at its most filthy - there was no room for feelings or emotions here; just two people wanting an outlet for the energy and adrenaline in their bodies and finding it in each other. There would be a time for dealing with the fallout; for now, the only thing that existed in the world was Yoo Jeongyeon’s body, bent over the trunk of the car, and the wonderful sheath of flesh between her spread legs.

 You savor every second of it, even looking up and out the roof of the parking garage in an attempt to distract yourself from the pleasure that was quickly overwhelming you, but you couldn’t do so for long - not when the sight below you and the feeling of pure pleasure radiating from your loins was so powerful, so impossible to fight.

 “I… I’m gonna cum again!” Jeongyeon yelps, and almost immediately she does just that, her body trembling and shaking as her knees give out momentarily and her body slouches against the car. You slow but don’t stop your rhythm, giving her deeper thrusts as the orgasm overtakes her and her pussy tightens deliciously around your cock, pulsating and squeezing as Jeongyeon’s orgasm courses throughout her tall, slim frame.

 “I’m gonna fucking cum inside you,” you hiss - not even caring to ask her where she wanted it. You wanted to cum in her, wanted to fill her with your semen - no other option even presented itself in your mind. Usually you would ask out of politeness. This wasn’t one of those times.

 “Yes!” Jeongyeon answers, as though you had spoken words she’d wanted to hear for awhile, “Yes, please! Cum in me… fill me up, baby. Fill my pussy with your cum. Cum in me!”

 “You want it, Jeongyeon? You want to be fucked like this? You want my cum deep inside this hot little pussy?”

 “Yes! I want it… I want it all! I want it inside me… filling me up… Cum in me! Cum deep inside me!”

 With three more final thrusts into her slick, hot pussy, you bury yourself in Jeongyeon’s body as you cum. Thick, hot semen erupts from your cock and into the welcoming walls of her body, your shaft quivering and pulsating with each burst of cum that leaves it. 

 Once you are done you give her a few more shallow thrusts, your still hard shaft pushing the cum deeper and deeper inside her. Every thrust earns a low moan of lust from Jeongyeon as she feels the warm, thick seed being pushed further into the depths of her pussy.

 You hold onto her hips as your orgasm winds down, and you find the strength to keep thrusting a few more times, savouring the feel of the hot mess you’d made inside her. A dark part of you wanted to fuck your hot semen even deeper inside her body, and you give her a few final strokes to ensure that it was as deep inside her pussy as you could put it.

 When your strength finally gives you, you fall forward, still inside her, bracing yourself with your hands on the hood. Jeongyeon is reduced to a weak puddle, breathing heavily as she is pressed against the car. The two of you stay there for a long minute, chests heaving as you slowly recover, both of you savouring the warmth that was still present where your bodies met with you still inside her. Eventually Jeongyeon turns her head just enough so you can watch as she taps the bandage on her cheek with a finger.

 “I guess that was worth this scratch,” she says with a smile.

 ---

 "We're fine, Jihyo. A van pulled up and got us out of there. Momo was in it. She's got her own team now, it looks like."

 "...what?" Jihyo answers, her disbelief plain even on the phone.

 "Yeah, I don't get it either. Momo wasn't exactly forthcoming with the details aside from sounding pretty pissed off that she had to rescue us. Either way, she's brought us to their safehouse. We'll be fine for tonight."

 "Okay," Jihyo answers, still sounding like she was still processing what was going on.

 "What about the data? What about Nayeon?"

 "We have her. I picked her up after you two split up. We're going through the data and the files now. It's pretty... crazy stuff that's in here."

 "Cole's notes?"

 "Lots of stuff on SM's involvement in the YG case. There are other things too, things I should probably show you in person. I don't think we should be on this line right now, we don't know who could be listening."

 "I agree. We're meeting with Momo tomorrow morning to find out what the hell she's been up to and what she was doing at SM today. We'll drop by JYP afterward."

 "Sounds good. I'll send Tzuyu to pick you up in the morning. Be safe."

 "We will."

 With a sigh you hang up the line, dropping your cell phone on the coffee table in front of you and burying your face in your hands. You were sitting in the coffee shop across the street from Momo’s safehouses. Jeongyeon had decided to head to her own suite to shower and rest up, but you weren’t quite as tired and so found yourself grabbing a bite to eat at this cafe.

 There was so much to take in and process - the SM operation, Nayeon's escape and Jeongyeon's decision to put her safety on the line to help you, and of course Momo's reappearance - you could barely make sense of it all.

 It was all going so well; Nayeon had retrieved the data and files she needed and it was only the overly cautious receptionist at the SM office that kept her from achieving her objective without any further fuss. The rest of the mission played out like a movie scene, complete with a run through a crowded mall while being pursued by suited thugs and a getaway car chase through rush hour traffic.

 You were glad that at least the central objective of the operation - retrieval of Irene's files - was complete. You were looking forward to getting the rundown tomorrow from Jihyo as to what they contained and were hopeful that you could find something, anything, that could contribute to bringing down Irene.

 The data and files were certainly a coup, something to be happy about, as was the fact that you and everyone on your team had escaped SM’s clutches with relative safety. But you nonetheless found yourself thinking back to two moments from that afternoon - when Jeongyeon put her own safety on the line to help you, and when Nayeon did the opposite and ran.

 You knew that Nayeon was a consummate professional, and that she always put her job first. You knew that her getting away and making sure the data and files got to Jihyo was the central objective of her operation. She was only accomplishing her objectives, even if it meant leaving you and Jeongyeon to hold off the SM thugs; moreover, you had actually ordered her to run away. She was acting in line with her character and her job.

 So why, then, did it hurt so much to see her run?

 A small part of you, you knew, wanted her to stay; wanted her to say fuck you to completing the mission and instead remain there, with you, subjecting herself to potential capture because she wouldn’t leave you behind, wouldn’t leave you to suffer alone, even if it meant losing the files she had worked so hard to obtain.

 And perhaps that was why seeing Jeongyeon there, standing next to you, ready to put her own safety on the line for your sake, warmed your heart as much as it did. She could have stayed in the van with Jihyo, could have run away at any point in the pursuit - but she stayed. And when the time came to fight, she was right there next to you, a wooden plank in her hands and a glare in her eyes, ready to go down swinging.

 She had asked you that morning to make up your mind about her - to not leave her waiting. She was probably waiting for you now, alone in her apartment room.

 You stand and leave your room, not wanting to have her wait a second longer.

 —-

 Fate, it seemed, had a way of appraising your plans, and, after some deliberation, throwing wrenches in them.

 At the moment fate took the from of Hirai Momo, whom you quite literally ran into as you exited the elevator that took you to the floor of Jeongyeon's apartment room. She is wearing a nondescript black hoodie with the hood up, likely to stay under the radar - but her pale skin and bright eyes were difficult to hide, even despite her best efforts.

 "I was just making sure she was okay," she mutters under her breath as she walks past you to press the elevator call button on the wall. She stands there facing away from you, pulling out her phone in what was obviously an attempt to blatantly ignore the fact that you were standing right there.

 You stand there for a moment in shock. How could a woman you'd once been so close with, one you had loved so dearly and had loved you in return, been reduced to what was now effectively a stranger? Your breakup wasn't perfect - few of them are - but even you were surprised, and a little upset, about the way she was treating you.

 "Momo, we need to talk."

 There is a moment of silence, and then a sigh, as though she too were cursing fate for having her arrive at the elevators just as you were leaving them.

 "About what?" she answers, not bothering to turn to face you.

 "I don't care about the rescue. I don't care about why you were at SM. I just want to know why you're so damn pissed off at me right now."

 Again there is silence. After awhile Momo drops her arms to her sides in a gesture of exasperation. She tilts her head backward, and even though you can't see her face you imagine that she's looking skyward and cursing her luck for having run into you when she did.

 Finally she turns around to face you. And again, you are struck by how a simple thing such as hairstyle can utterly change a person's appearance. Was this really the same Hirai Momo you'd known for almost a decade, the same one you'd been on countless business trips -and just as many passionate nights - all over the world with, the same one you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with, up until just a few weeks ago?

 She seemed like a completely different person - and not just in terms of how she wore her hair. Everything about her seemed different, and it hurt you to witness it.

 "I'm pissed off at you because I didn't ask to have you back in my life. I wanted time away from you. So I bottled up the way I felt about you and put it into a locked box and threw that box into the ocean."

 There is a look of anger in her eyes now, the same one she'd had in the van.

 "But," she continues, "you had to go and do something stupid when I was minutes away from finally accomplishing something on my own. And I was forced to save you. And now you're back in my life, and I don't know how to handle it."

 You aren't quite sure how to react to her abrupt confession, and so you don't do anything at all, your mind failing to make sense of the way you felt, never mind coming up with words to articulate it.

 "I thought things were okay between us, Momo," you manage to say.

 "They were," she replies, rubbing her forehead with a hand as though she were fighting off an impending headache, "I was doing fine. I guess...I guess I didn't know I wasn't okay until I saw you again today."

 "We can talk-"

 "No. I don't want to talk. You know me. Words were never my strong suit."

 Silence returns, the seconds passing like hours, the both of you staring intently at the floor as though the answers to your questions were to be found somewhere amidst the patterned tiling. The bell that announces the arrival of the elevator breaks the silence. Momo steps inside and looks back at you.

 "I'm in 31D. If you want, we'll have one night. We can fuck just like we used to. No strings attached. Maybe we talk about you and me. Maybe. Either way, tomorrow you go back to that locked box at the bottom of the ocean."

 The elevator door closes.

 The door to the second elevator opens and an apartment dweller steps out, offering you an awkward nod of greeting which you return. The open and waiting elevator they have just vacated beckons - as does the hallway to Jeongyeon’s room, where she was surely waiting for you.

 You listen to the apartment dweller’s steps fade away down the hallway, leaving you alone to make a choice.

[litttlesilkworm]

Some facts about General Pikalov (1924-2003) from Vladimir Maleev’s book, “Heroes of the Unknown War. A Memory Regained.”

We all remember Vladimir Pikalov as a soft-spoken General from the HBO series, who chooses to risk his own health over the health of his soldiers’. Here, I summarized some facts from the biography of this valorous man, including those that inspired his portrayal in the show. Photos are from the book as well. Enjoy!

Vladimir Karpovich Pikalov was born in the family of Cossaks in the town of Armavir in the south of Russia. When Hitler's army invaded the Soviet Union in June 1941, Pikalov had just graduated ninth grade. Together with ten of his classmates, Pikalov begged to be sent to the front, but the army wouldn’t take such youngsters. Instead, he was sent to an artillery school in Rostov-on-Don.

In February 1942, seventeen year-old Pikalov joined the ranks of his compatriots at the front as an anti-tank artillery platoon commander. From 1942 to 1945, he took part in the liberation of Kursk, Minsk and Poznan’. Pikalov fought in the battle of Berlin and was severely wounded there.

To recuperate, Pikalov was sent to a military hospital in Sochi. There, he met several veterans who served in the chemical defense forces. Hearing their stories had impressed Pikalov so much that he decided to continue his service in this branch of the military. In 1951, he graduated from the Military Academy of Chemical Defense, and began his service in chemical forces. By 1959, he was already appointed to lead the Chemical Defense Forces division of the Baltic region, and in 1969, became a commander of the entire Chemical Defense branch of the Soviet military.

Before Chernobyl, Pikalov has led numerous successful liquidation and prevention efforts, including:

1 - safe destruction of a wartime cache of German chemical weapons near Riga;

2 - safe removal and destruction of rusty drums filled with chlorine gas left over from the WWI-era, which lay forgotten in the basement of the Radioelectronics Institute in Moscow, just steps from the Kremlin;

3 - disinfection of the city of Havana, Cuba during the Dengue virus epidemic;

4 - cleanup of a chlorine spill following a derailment of a train carrying cisterns filled with chlorine gas near Neman river, with minimal damage to the environment.

On April 26th, 1986 Pikalov was called to Chernobyl. He arrived at the site of  accident by car. As they approached the danger zone, Pikalov ordered his driver to stop and instructed him to leave the vehicle, saying to the young soldier: “Stay here, son, you are still to become a father.” Pikalov then drove himself around the station, surveying the damage.

Later that night, Pikalov headed to the the ruins of reactor #4 in an armored vehicle. Yet again, he instructed another young soldier driving him to get out and wait in a safe place, and drove the vehicle himself. The gate was closed, so he rammed the car through it. 

The following passages I am translating directly: 

“The blackened walls had a crimson-orange glow around them. From time to time, the light coming out of the reactor was accompanied by cracking noises and sparks. The site exuded an uncanny, horrifying feeling. It seemed like hell itself opened up among these ruins, which looked like a terrible monster in the darkness. It was a frightening picture.”

“Yes, I took risks and was aware that I overstepped the medically allowable radiation doses. But such risks were justified for the sake of other people, and first and foremost, young soldiers, who had to carry out the difficult deactivation efforts.”

“We had to deal with radioactive fallout coming directly out of the active zone, therefore, a very difficult form of radioactive contamination. And not only the surrounding land, but the air, too. To add to this, this was a radioisotopic contamination with a broad family of radionuclides, which has never happened before in practice anywhere.”

Pikalov stayed at the ChNPP for two months, resting for only 2-3 hours every 24 hours. He directed multiple operations, including: (1) an extensive mapping of the radionuclide contamination of the air, land, water and plants; (2) locating the fuel rods, which were thrown out of the reactor during the explosion, using aerial photography; (3) rapid cleanup of the territory immediately to the west of the reactor #4, which allowed the engineer corps to organize the removal of water from the bubbler pools to eliminate the threat of a massive steam explosion; (4) extraction of the KGB surveillance equipment from a building immediately next to the exploded reactor. The surveillance equipment included recordings that later allowed to shed light on the reasons behind the accident. This operation took several hours and had to be conducted in very high radiation fields.

In early May, 1986, Pikalov requested Moscow State Technical University to design two remote-controlled robots to assist with the cleanup efforts - “MOBOT-4-HV-1” and “MOBOT-4-HV-2” (on the picture below is Pikalov himself testing one of the robots). Only one robot survived the high levels of radiation.

For his work in Chernobyl, Pikalov was awarded the Hero of the Soviet Union award on January 14th, 1987:

[furiousstarfishphilosopher]

UAE-based Tektronix Technology Company has installed a sanitization gateway which will disinfect all staff, upon leaving and returning to their accommodation centres   the disinfectant system works via a Fog Gate, or a disinfection tunnel, which sprays staff with a non-toxic, pH-neutral and durable disinfectant.

If successful, the sanitization gateway is the first to be employed in a commercial capacity, will be rolled out across all of all staff accommodation centres in the UAE.

A similar sanitization system has already been installed at Abu Dhabi MEDIA OFFICE to protect essential workers, using the SAFF ENTRANCE GATE. It too is expected to be rolled out at other transport hubs around the country.

Mass disinfection solution, Disinfectant fog gates, sanitizing tunnels and chambers. Fogging machines, ultra high-pressure. With Bio-safe disinfectant from our partners. Sprayers. Dosing mist fans. fogging pumps. Disinfectant foggers Disinfection Tunnels Include Temperature Measurements, Hand Sanitiser Dispensers

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[obeziteyeson]

AÇIK HAVA VE GÜN IŞIĞI

Prof. Dr. Canan Karatay  07.03.2021

Gün ışığında dolaşmanın ve temiz hava solumanın SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 grip infeksiyonunu engelleme ve önlemede son derece önemli iki faktor olduğunu bir kez daha belirtmek istiyorum. Gene tarihten ve yaşananlardan ders almamız gerekiyor. 

Şöyle ki bir örnek verecek olursak, 1918 İspanyol gribi salgınında, açık havaya yerleştirilen hastaların, ölüm oranlarının, kapalı hastahane koğuşlarında yatanlara oranla daha düşük olduğu bildirilmiştir [1]. Bir çok çalışmada da, doğal olarak havalandırılan koğuşlarda, açık havaya kapalı ve mekanik olarak havalandırılan modern hastahane koğuşlarına oranla temiz hava değişiminin oldukça düşük olduğu gösterilmiştir [2].

 Temiz hava değişimi kapalı bir mekan ya da bir oda içine, ne sıklıkla taze, temiz havanın girdiğini gösterir. Örnekleyecek olursak, bir pencerenin açılmasıyla kapalı mekan ya da oda içine, bir saat içinde %69 oranında temiz hava girmektedir. Mekanik ventilasyon ile saat başı hava değişiminde ise bu oran

%12 dolaylarında olup çok düşük bir değerdir.

 Kapalı ortamlarda, solunan havada virüsün yoğunluk oranı, ya da konsantrasyonu artmakta ve infeksiyon yapma olasılığı kat kat yükselmektedir. Aynı şekilde SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 grip infeksiyonu ve tüm kış grip infeksiyonlarının da, kış aylarında soğuk algınlıklarının artması kapalı ortamlarda, havasız kapalı ve kalabalık olarak yaşandığından kaynaklanmaktadır.

 Bu nedenle hastahanelerde olduğu kadar, gerek evlerde, gerek kapalı olan yaşam ve çalışma ortamlarına açık ve temiz havanın girmesi, ve saydığımız bu kapalı mekanların sık sık havalandırılması son derece önem kazanmaktadır. Almanya, Kanada ve ABD’de yapılan araştırmalar, bir kişinin hayatının yarısının ev içi havasını solumakla geçtiğini göstermiştir [3].

 Akıllı binalarda maalesef pencereler açılamamaktadır. Bu nedenle, başta SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 virüs gribi olmak üzere tüm kış gribi ve infeksiyon hastalıkları sıklıkla görülmektedir.

 Temiz Hava solumanın faydaları uzun senelerden beri bilinmektedir ve bir çok çalışama ile gösterilmiştir. 1894 yılında Londra’da yayınlanmış olan bir çalışmada, temiz havaya maruz kalan tüberküloz mikrobunun, hastalık yapma gücünün çok zayıfladığı bildirilmiştir[4].

 Temiz hava solumanın antimikrobik olan önemli etkilerini bir kaç faktörle özetlemek mümkündür.  Güneşli açık havada yürümek ile, bir kere güneşin UVB ışınlarına maruz kalmaktayız.  Açık havada virüs yoğunluğu, konsantrasyonu azaldığı gibi, hastalık yapma gücü de zayıflamaktadır. İşte bu nedenle dışarıda açık havada bol bol yürümek viral infeksiyonların riskini azaltmaktadır.  Maskenin bir faydası bu bağlamda yoktur.

 Temiz havanın antimikrobik etkisine, 1960 yıllarında, ‘OPEN AIR FACTOR- OAF’ denilmesinin nedeni budur[5]. Açık temiz havanın İNFLUENZA virüslerini yok ettiği, ben İngilterede çalıştığım, 1972 yıllarında, Hijyen Tıp Dergisinde yayınlanmıştı.[6]. Temiz havanın antimikrobik etkisinin temel nedeni olarak, gün ışığı ile havada bulunan ozon partiküllerinin etkileşim sonucu ortaya çıkan hidroksil radikalleri diye adlandırılan kimyasal ögelerin olduğu açıklanmıştır[7].

 SÖZÜN ÖZÜ:

 GÜN IŞIĞI ve AÇIK TEMİZ HAVA içinde bulunan bileşenler, asırlardan beri, hastalık yapan mikro organizmaları azaltarak, yok ederek insanları bakteri, virüs ve mantar infeksiyonlarının neden olduğu öldürücü infeksiyonlardan kollamak ve korumaktadır. Bu faktörler mevcut olmasa idi insanlar ve hayvanların tümünün hayatta kalabilmeleri mümkün olamazdı. Dünyada canlı yaşam imkansız olurdu. Yabani hayvanlara da maske takalım mı, ne dersiniz?

 SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 salgınına karşı, tarihten alınacak oldukça önemli derslerin var olduğu bir gerçektir.

 O halde, SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 salgınını önlemek amacıyla kitleleri tamamen eve kapanma uygulaması yanlış ve tehlikeli olduğu aşikardır. Evde kapalı ortamlarda virüsün tehlikesi daha da artmaktadır. Açık havada yürümenin yasaklanması, ya da denize girmenin yasaklanması acaba ne kadar doğru bilimsel bir uygulama olmaktadır?

 Sağlık Bakanı Sayın Fahrettin Koca’nın da ifade etmiş olduğu gibi, SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 virüs grip infeksiyonu evlerde daha büyük risk oluşturmasına ve daha hızlı yayılmasına neden olmuştur. Özellikle 65 yaş üstü sıhhatli gençlerin, sokağa çıkma kısıtlamaları/yasağı bilimsel olmayan, üstelik bir çok hastalık riskinin artmasına neden olan bir uygulamadır.

 Daha önce de bir kaç kez açıklamış olduğumuz gibi gün ışığının, cildimizde D VİTAMİNİ yapımını sağlamaktadır. Ancak gün ışığının bilinen bir çok başka önemli faydaları da bulunmaktadır. En başta, gün ışığının Ultra Viyole B yani UVB ve Ultra Viyole C yani UVC, ışınlarının sıhhatimizi koruma açısından son derece önemli yeri vardır. UVB ışınlarının virüslerin büyük çoğunluğunu öldürdüğü senelerden beri bilinen bilimsel bir gerçektir[8] yeni bir buluş değildir.  Ultraviyole ışınlarının, ya da kısaca UV ışınlamasının ile, SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 virüs salgınıın önlenebileceği anahtar bir uygulama olduğu da açıklanmıştır [9]. UV yani gün ışığının, 1877 yılından beri yüzlerce çalışmada infeksiyonların yayılmasını önlediği NATURE dergisinde yayınlanarak bildirilmiştir [10] [11] [12].

 SARS-CoV-2, COVİD-19 infeksiyonu korkusundan, yaygın olarak aşırı miktarda kullanılmakta olan yüzey dezenfektanları son derece sıhhati bozmaktadır. Bu nedenle bir çok kişide çeşitli sağlık sorunları baş göstermeye başlamıştır. Özellikle, okul, TV stüdyoları, hastahene, ve AVM’ler gibi kapalı alanların havasının geceleri UV ışınları ile dezenfekte edilmeleri, yaygın bir şekilde sıhhati bozan kimyasal dezenfektan kullanımı yerine, insan sağlığına zarar vermeyen UV ışınları nın kullanılması tercih edilmelidir [13].

 Gün ışığında bulunan Ultra Viyole yani UV ışınlarının her türlü mikrobu yok etmede son derece güçlü olduğu bilinmektedir. Öyleki, terör amacıyla, yani biyoterörizim amaçıyla yayılan her türlü tehlikeli mikrobiyomu öldürme, korunma ve yayılmasını önleme amacıyla UV ışınlarının kullanılması önerilmektedir[14].

UVB ve UVC Ultraviyole ışınlarınıın bütün virüsleri öldürdüğü veya yok ettiği bilinmektedir. UVB ve UVC ışınlarının bu bağlamda, bütün Corona virüslerini ve de en yeni olan SARS-CoV-2 virüsünü ayırt etmeyeceği ve SARS-CoV-2 virüsünü yok edeceği aşikardır. ABD COLUMBİA Universitesi araştırmacılarından Biyofizik Profesörü, PhD David Brenner kış gribine neden olan bütün mevsimsel TÜM CORONA VİRÜSLERİNİ ki buna SARS-CoV-2 virüsü de dahildir, % 99, oranında yok ettiğini ve insanlara zarar vermediğini bildirmiştir.

“Far-UVC light doesn’t really discriminate between coronavirus types, so we expected that it would kill SARS-CoV-2 in just the same way: since SARS-CoV-2 is largely spread via droplets and aerosols that are coughed and sneezed into the air, it’s important to have a tool that can safely inactivate the virus while it’s in the air, particularly while people are around. Because it’s safe to use in occupied spaces like hospitals, buses, planes, trains, train stations, schools, restaurants, offices, theatres, gyms, and anywhere that people gather indoors, far-UVC light could be used in combination with other measures, like wearing face masks and washing hands, to limit the transmission of SARS-CoV-2 and other viruses.”

SONUÇ:

Evlerde kapalı ortamlard YAŞAMAK değil, kalabalıktan uzak maske takmadan, açık havada yürümek, kalabalıktan UZAK OLARAK maske takmadan, gün ışığında, ormanda yürümek, kalabalıktan UZAK OLARAK  maske takmadan, deniz kenarında yürümek ve de denizde yüzmek SARS CoV-2, COVİD-19 virüsünü de zayıflatmakta, çoğalmasını engellemekte ve yayılmasını önlemektedir. Kalabalıktan uzak kaldıkça, açık havada fizik aktivite sırasında maske takmak, hipoksiye neden olduğu için sakıncalı ve tehlikelidir. 

KAYNAKLAR: 

[1] Hobday RA et al.Am J Public Health 2009 99(suppl 2): 5236-5242.

[2] Qian H et al. ISME J 2010;45: 559-65.

[3] Brasche S et al. In J Environ Health 2005;208: 247-53.

[4] Ransome A et al.Proc R Soc London 1894;561:51-6.

[5]  Hood A M. J Hyg (Lond)1974,72: 53-60.

[6]  Benbough JE. Et al. J Hyg (Lond) 1971; 69: 610-26.

[7]  Wong V et al.J Hosp Infect 2011; 78:194-99.

[8] Hockberger PE. J Photochem Photobiol 2000; 58: 185-91.

[9] https://www.livescience.com/uv-light-kill-coronavirus.html.

[10] aDownes A, et al.. The influence of light upon the development of bacteria. Nature 1877; 16:218.

[11] bGates FL. A study of the bacteriocidal action of ultra violet light: III. The absorption of ultra violet light by bacteria. J Gen Physiol 1930;14:31-42.

[12] cWells WF. On air-borne infection: study II. Droplets and droplet nuclei. Am J Hyg 1934; 20:611-8.

[13] Nichlas GR. The History of Ultraviolet Germicidal Irradiation for Air Disinfection. Public Health Rep. 2010 Jan-Feb; 125(1): 15–27.

[14] Philip WB et al. The application of ultraviolet germicidal irradiation to control transmission of airborne disease: biotterrorism countermeasure. Public Health Rep Mar-Apr 2003;118(2):99-114.

Prof. Dr. Canan Karatay  07.03.2021