#life after coronavirus

[shadowvalkyrie]

On the plus side, I got to cancel all my weekend plans guilt free and am now chilling with tea, chocolate and fanfic after a meditative morning of garden work.

The downside is that this is because I'm quarantining, seeing as my boss yesterday confirmed that she is indeed sick with Covid after spending all of Thursday sneezing and coughing in my direction instead of keeping her feverish ass in bed at home.

(Seriously, what is it with old people and their martyr complex. You are not doing anyone any favours! You should be in bed for your own health, and we can spare you just fine at the office. Not to mention that I'll MUCH rather spend a week doing twice the work than getting sick. And if you absolutely have to feel indispensable? WORK THE FUCK FROM HOME.)

So glad I got my booster shot despite everyone pretending this pandemic is over. 🙃

[pangur-and-grim]

So... Since cats usually develop immunity to the cat-specific coronavirus that causes FIP, does that mean that Belphie will now be immune to FIP, assuming he fully recovers? It doesn't sound like the original disease causes flare-ups. (Glad he's doing better, btw! I went through his tag chronologically, and seeing how fast he declined over the last ~6 pages was SCARY.)

Belphie has a great chance of recovering without relapse!

FIP can present in a few different ways, depending on which part of the body it targets. wet FIP, which is what he had, make the cat balloon up with straw-coloured liquid. it's painful, and it kills the fastest, but it's also the most responsive to treatment.

neurological FIP is the worst to treat, and has the highest likelihood of the cat relapsing after treatment, just because it's hard to get the drugs through the brain/blood barrier.

in contrast, the vet running the South Tower Animal Hospital medical trial said that he'd never seen a wet FIP cat not be cured by treatment. and Belphie's already TRANSFORMED! I fully expect him to live a long and healthy life (and in fact, I insist on it).

[covid-safer-hotties]

Alarm bells ring in Japan as experts warn of fast-spreading new Covid variant KP. 3 - Published July 19, 2024

Paywalled at the South China Morning Post: Unpaywalled by Covidsafehotties.

The country reported a 39 per cent week-on-week surge in infections from July 1 to 7, with Okinawa the hardest hit

Japan is grappling with a new and highly contagious coronavirus variant that is fuelling the country’s 11th wave of Covid-19 infections, health experts warn. The KP. 3 variant is spreading rapidly, even among those who are vaccinated or have recovered from previous infections, according to Kazuhiro Tateda, president of the Japan Association of Infectious Diseases.

“It is, unfortunately, the nature of the virus to become more resilient and resistant each time it changes into a different form,” Tateda told This Week in Asia. “People lose their immunity quite quickly after being vaccinated, so they have little or no resistance.”

Tateda, who sits on Japan’s advisory panel formed at the start of the pandemic, said the coming weeks will be critical as authorities monitor the variant’s spread and impact.

While hospitals have reported a sharp uptick in Covid-19 admissions, Tateda said he is “relieved that not many of these cases are severe”. Typical symptoms of the KP. 3 variant include high fever, sore throat, loss of smell and taste, headaches, and fatigue.

According to the health ministry, medical facilities across Japan logged a 1.39-fold – or 39 per cent – increase in infections from July 1 to 7, compared to the previous week.

Okinawa prefecture has been the hardest hit by the new strain of the virus, with hospitals reporting an average of nearly 30 infections per days. The KP. 3 variant has accounted for more than 90 per cent of Covid-19 cases nationwide, the Fuji News Network reported, leading to renewed concerns about bed shortages at medical facilities.

Since Japan’s first detected Covid-19 case in early 2020 involving a man who returned from the Chinese city of Wuhan, East Asian nation has recorded a total of 34 million infections and around 75,000 related deaths. The country’s Covid-19 caseload peaked on August 5, 2022, when more than 253,000 people were receiving treatment.

Japan’s uptick in cases coincides with similar increases being observed globally. In the US, the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention reported a 23.5 per cent week-over-week rise in the number of people visiting hospitals with Covid-19 symptoms during the week ending July 6.

High-profile US.figures such as President Joe Biden and Doug Emhoff, husband of Vice-President Kamala Harris, have recently tested positive and gone into isolation. Meanwhile, several riders in the ongoing Tour de France cycling race have also returned positive test results.

Experts say it is too early to determine the full impact of the new variant on Japanese businesses or cross-border activities like travel. Precautionary measures are already in place at the country’s air and seaports to monitor the health of incoming arrivals. However, the global spike in cases may deter some Japanese from venturing abroad this summer.

A recent survey by Nippon Life insurance found that just 3.2 per cent of Japanese plan to travel abroad in the coming months, which is likely to depress annual travel figures once again. In 2023, Japan saw 9.62 million outbound travellers, a recovery after three years of extremely low pandemic-era numbers, but still far below the 20.01 million outbound travellers recorded in 2019.

Despite the latest surge, infectious disease expert Tateda insists there is no need for panic in Japan. However, he emphasised the importance of following precautions implemented during the pandemic’s peak, such as mask-wearing in public, handwashing, and social distancing.

Tateda also stressed that anyone testing positive should immediately isolate themselves.

[sanzaibian]

I turns off my phone angrily. I have barely touched down to Pudong International Airport, and now I have to call my Shanghai agent about how I’m going to be late, and that “China Eastern”, that company full of crooks, doesn’t even want to compensate my $4200 business class ticket for being 2 hours late.

“Allô ? C’est Julien, je suis enfin arrivé à Shanghai. (Hello ? It’s Julien, I’ve finally touched down at Shanghai.)” I say to my local correspondent, the one responsible for dragging me here.

- Enfin ! Ça fait une heure qu’on vous attend ! (Finally ! We’ve been waiting for you for a whole hour !)

- C’est pas ma faute ! Le vol a eu deux heures de retard à cause de soi-disants ‘vents forts’ vers la Mongolie… et ces escrocs ne veulent rien me rembourser… typique… (It’s not my fault ! The flight was two hours late due to so-called ‘powerful winds’ around Mongolia… and those crooks don’t want to reimburse me… typical…)” I answer, annoyed.

- Bon, de l��Aéroport de 浦東 (Pudong) jusqu’ici… pff… je vais devoir leur dire de revenir cet après-midi… (So, from 浦東 (Pudong) Airport to here… ugh… I need to ask them to come back this afternoon…)” He says, similarly annoyed, though seemingly flaunting his perfect pronunciation in Chinese.

- Ne râle pas sur moi, j’ai rien fait ! Je savais que j’aurais dû prendre Air France, ils n’auraient pas eu de retard comme ces asiates… (Don’t dump it on me, I did nothing ! I knew I should have gone for Air France, they wouldn’t be late like those chinks…)

- Roh… (Ugh…)” He sighs a while. “Je vais m’occuper de tout. Juste… viens aussi vite que possible. (I’ll manage. Just… come here as soon as you can.)”

I turn off the phone. As if I would waste a minute of my life… I’m Julien Blanc, and my time is money, just like the saying goes. As the heir of a multi-million dollars worth banking company, I have investments left right and center, and can’t let the next golden goose escape me.

Recently, a well-known investor, Pierre Zhang, let me know of a promising startup here in Shanghai. While at first I was understandingly skeptical, after all chinks are known for their plagiarism, I did check the project and found it to be unique, and even viable.

While I do know that Pierre Zhang is half one of them, so he does take their side much more than a regular person would, this time he saw a good opportunity. And it will be botched due to an incapable company that spouted nonsense about “strong winds” or something and was late as a result.

Angrily, I stomp in the giant airport halls, guiding myself thanks to my impeccable English – though, just don’t listen to the pronunciation. I’m stopped multiple times for security checks, and I do swear on them a couple of times, but they deserved it for wasting my time even more.

However, as I was striding in the main hall in order to find the metro station, seeing more and more of those chink hooligans, one of them shoves me to the side. He’s wearing a mask like the pussy he is, as well as a ridiculous oversized hoodie, some laughable jewelry and undistinguished sweatpants.

He’s left as soon as I turn around, meaning I can’t berate him. Youth these days are really insufferable. Where I grew up, on the Saint-Louis island in Paris, we weren’t even half as rude as today’s kids.

Scoffing, I continue rushing to the metro, though I kind of feel dizzy. Did he give me a disease or something ? When I reach the metro shoot, I see a barrier with policemen. Apparently they’re scanning for the coronavirus – they’re still doing that ? – by checking our temperature.

I go in the barrier, confident that I’ll pass the test, when suddenly, my path is blocked.

“Sorry, sir, please come with me.” Said a policewoman in her heavily accented English.

- What are you doing ! Let me go, I did nothing wrong !” I protest with a similarly accented English.

The policewoman doesn’t answer me and leads me to a small room in the airport. There, I see a bunch of other people with masks, waiting on seats. Showing me a mask, the policewoman explain :

“You may be sick. Take a mask and wait. - I’m going to be late ! Nothing’s wrong with me, just let me leave !” I say, though I don’t notice my accent shifting a little.

- Wear it or face consequences.” The policewoman insists, dangling the mask in front of my eyes. I sigh.

- Okay, but make it quick. I’ll wear 一只 (one).”

I squint my eyes. How did I say ‘one’ ? It feels incorrect, have I accidentally used French ‘un’ ?

I take the mask and wear it, still squinting. I still feel dizzy, so I guess the policewoman must have been right ? I take my phone out, wanting to send a quick message to Pierre about me being late, but something seems wrong.

When I look on my phone, there’s a weird app named 抖音 that has been installed. I don’t remember doing that. In fact, why is there even a Chinese app on my phone !

I click on it, and suddenly, videos start playing. I squint my eyes as I look at the videos of ch… Chinese people doing a variety of things. First it’s a video of a cat rubbing on someone, and that guy exclaimed “它真的是只饥渴死的猫啊！”, with then the woman filming answering, with a hurried tone “快摸它啊，你干嘛在那儿等呗？真冷啊。”. Even though I don’t understand a word that is said, I can guess that the woman is telling the guy to go rub the cat.

It’s funnier than I expected. Turns out the Chinese have more humor than I thought. Then, another video comes on, showing a guy, looking just like that punk from earlier, saying “穿这种衣服，我干嘛不会感丢人哎？(… these clothes… … lose face ?)”, and the camera pans out to a woman in a cockroach outfit. The punk continues “你已经三十岁了，为什么还在买这种衣服了？(… thirty years old, why still buy… ?)”, the woman answers “你现在我穿什么你都要管吗？(You... right now what I wear… your business ?)”. The punk then comes back into frame, with the woman on the left, asking “没有情侣版吗？哪只手我该牵啊？(There isn’t a couple’s version ? Which hand should I hold ?). Then, the woman shows a tendril, and they hold hands like that. I smile, finding it way funnier than it should.

I don’t really notice how I understand more and more what’s on 抖音 (Douyin), though I do let myself grow limp on the waiting room chair. I guess I don’t have much regards anymore for how I look, after all I’m waiting for a coronavirus test. Nobody’s going to comment on my posture !

The next video shows three guys running, with the caption 三人跑步时能干什么 (What can three people do while running together ?), and I see how their hair bop up and down. I’ve been shaving myself bald for quite a few years, ever since I was balding too much for me to bother with hair, but seeing these guys like that makes me a bit nostalgic of that time.

Seeing them doing stupider and stupider stuff, and smiling more and more as they show bungee jumping, doing pull-ups, playing games, stir-frying and even boxing, I feel a bit weird. Like I can kind of relate, in my youth I also did crazy things, and it would absolutely be something I would have done with my friends. I scratch my head, feeling it tingle, as I continue watching the next video, not even realizing my squinting is less and less strenuous.

The videos continue trickling in, every one more humorous than the last, and I catch myself chuckling out loud multiple times. By now, I understand everything very clearly, and when a doctor comes to do a coronavirus test, I don’t even blink when he addresses me in Chinese :

“少年，请跟我进走。(Young man, please enter with me.)

- Yes, 先生。(Yes, sir.)” I answer, mixing English and Chinese.

Everything is confused as he takes me to a machine, my thoughts mixing French, English and Chinese. Even my clothes feel… less tight than they used to. Almost as if they were melting and becoming glue.

I take place in the machine and he activates it. I feel as if things become clearer while I’m in. Like, for example, why was I stressed just now ? I don’t have anything important to do right now. And why languages are mixed ? I guess it’s because it’s cooler to mix in English…

The machine stops, and I leave it, scratching my straight hair. Had I ? … no, of course not, it’s my facial hair that I shave…

The doctor hands me my piercings.

“Euh, attendez, 先生，有什么不对了…… (Er, wait, sir, there’s something that’s not right.)” I ask, mixing French and Chinese. I really feel like something is not right.

- 什么发生过了？会跟我谈一谈。(What happened ? You can discuss it with me.)

- 我……有个奇怪的感受。Est-ce que 您找到了种疾病吗？(I… have a weird feeling. Did you find some kind of disease ?)

- 没有。但是您不舒服的话我肯定会给您扑热息痛。(I didn’t. However, if you don’t feel good, I can give you some paracetamol.)” He answers me, with a helpful look.

- 该好了。Merci. (It should be good. Thank you.)”

I take the pill he gives me, and put my piercings back on as I go back in the terminal. As I walk, I feel very comfy, as if everything was alright. I look down on my large oversized hoodie with its colorful prints. I feel like I’m in my youth once again… huh, it’s so weird to say that when I’m only... 23 years old !

Suddenly, I get a phone call from a weird contact I don’t remember having, someone named 张皮尔 (Zhang Pi’er/Pierre). I accept the call :

“喂。是谁？(Hello. Who’s there ?)” I ask, with a perfect accent.

- Julien ? Pourquoi tu parles chinois ? (Julien ? Why do you speak Chinese ?)” He groans, then switches to Chinese. “是我问您是谁。是您的电话吗？(I’m the one asking you who you are. Is it your phone ?)

- 当然是。我是个���二代，为啥要偷手机啊？(Of course. I have a trust fund, why would I steal a phone ?)” I slur, my speech becoming more and more relaxed.

- 嗯……那您是谁啊？您认不认识Julien Blanc ? (Ugh… So who are you ? Do you know Julien Blanc ?)

- 是白炬亮。那你到底是谁啊？(I’m Bai Juliang. And now can you tell me who you are ?)

- 是张皮尔……嗯……听我说一下。你有没有多钱会投资？我认为了Julien Blanc要投资新项目，但你还会投资一下。有没有兴趣？(I’m Pierre Zhang… ugh… Listen. Do you have a lot of money to invest ? I thought Julien Blanc would come and invest in a new project, but you can still invest. Are you interested ?)”

I think for a while. It could be great to have some money coming from another place than my parents’ company… plus, I don’t want to have to join it, or risk being cut off from my money…

However, there’s time, I’m still young, and there’s no rush right now… Plus, having work is, like, a lot of work, and I don’t want to work… But I have an idea.

“张先生，你想不想跟我投资？我给了你钱币，你给了我专业，收入分两半。感觉好吗？(Mr. Zhang, do you want to invest with me ? I give you the funds, you give me the expertise, and we divide the profits in half. Do you like that ?)”

After a while, he answers :

“感觉好了。(I think it’s good.)”

[mangalho]

Ex-warbot OC

They don’t have names yet.

The two bots with the scary faces were specifically made for war, and now that it’s over, they still maintained their original ‘warface’ even though it has stigma associated to it. Many robots changed their faceplates post-war, as it made it easier to find jobs and not get into unnecessary conflict.

The sleeker looking guy used to be in their company, though he wasn’t made in the same factory as them; he isn’t their ’batch-mate’.

After the war he completely modified his frame, and now has an idol career. He desperately wats to erase his past, as people (and robots alike) will respond better to a ‘new’ and untainted idol.

The two warface bots are “brother and sister” and they do odd jobs here and there to make ends meet and to be able to afford things they want. Rich people hire them as bouncers a lot since they are a symbol of terrible times. Sometimes they earn 15k in one night for just one gig it’s crazy. They both really love clothes since it distances them from their body’s original purpose while simultaneously not erasing their past. Also they look cute and cool!

The idol bot once meets the warfaces by chance in the street and pretends he doesn’t know them AGAHAKALAK I think he’s insane… completely erasing your past and the person you were is psychopathic to me idk. Anyway

There arent a lot of warfaces going around anymore. since they either died during the war or changed their frames. Pre-war bots were re-fitted during the conflicts and just had to go back to their former unweaponized frames after it was all over so they’re fine.  All of these robots can download information and i want that type of learning to mostly disappear if its deleted, but if they learn things like we do or experience real events, those memories and skills can’t really truly be erased; if they do try erasing them, they will still remember them, just not with HD video clarity, which brings them immense suffering sometimes. “How to people live like this?!” Well buddy it sucks idk we all cope

Newly minted robots are wack because they don’t exactly have a ‘soul’ yet they just do things they’re supposed to do, but after some time, all of them actually develop real awareness and shit… my war bots had like a 78% chance of dying everyday when they were activated, but they survived and attained sentience at like one year post birth and they wised up rly fast after that. They remember their first year, but they describe it as a ‘weird haze’

These robots feel pain so they wont like dive into a hole or damage themselves too much. Self preservation means longer-lived machines which means less repair costs and less human lives on the line as well.. slay !!!

While the conflicts went on, most robots achieved sentience and decided to stop fighting so there was like a robots rights movement and eventually the war stopped altogether and now the robots have a salary and a normal life mostly. They arent organics, so they need other things. They are solar powered and need oil sometimes and also they need new nanomachines once in a while like we need vaccines. Get your boosters… its not just tetanus and coronavirus anymore now they gotta think about like..the trojan horse 9000

I want them to have this aversion to organic things dying bc they are universally gross. Like they dont like seeing living-machines die either but a rat being squished by a car is also gross!

There are probably some tensions between humans and robots but like i kinda get it bc i wouldnt mess with a guy who has like lead pipes for arms. also most robots ARE normal but some are insane idk 🙆‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just  like people are.

 mine are normal tho they’re just vibing 💖🗣🤙

[aziraphales-library]

Hi!

Thanks for your hard work keeping your system organized! Really helps during my 3AM reading sessions lol.

I was wondering if there are any “and there was only one bed” fanfics for Aziracrow? Thanks!

We have #there was only one bed and #sharing a bed tags, so take a look at those! Here are some more to add...

Away by HopeCoppice (G)

They can command reservations at the Ritz at a moment's notice. They can perform miracles, or the demonic equivalent, for- well, for Somebody's sake. There is absolutely no way that they should ever be able to find themselves in a situation where there is only one bed. And yet.

Welcome to the Petty Party by Mimsynims (E)

Oh fuck. It was him. Crowley tried to make himself smaller where he was sitting in the back of the Greyhound bus. It had been almost a year - and another continent - since he last saw him, but there was no mistaking that blonde fluff of hair or those strong shoulders on the man entering the bus. It was Aziraphale. Fortunately there were very few other passengers, and Aziraphale chose a seat in the middle of the bus, sitting down without spotting Crowley further in the back.  Seeing him now catapulted him back in time, to that fateful night in Birmingham - the one and only time they’d met.   Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves stranded in a motel for the night - sharing a room. Last time they met, they spent the night together. Now they are both - wrongfully - convinced that the other never wanted more than a one night stand. (Basically, this is a "there was only one bed" PWP)

Warmth by HolyCatsAndRabbits (E)

The excitement of spending a day traveling with Crowley had turned to deep embarrassment. Rather than a flight followed by a late dinner somewhere and then a night apart, Aziraphale was cold, wet, hungry, and injured, in the wrong city, and facing a night sharing a room with his secret crush in which there was only one bed. And— Aziraphale looked down at what he was holding. Flannel pajamas, tartan ones. He was going to have to go back out there and face the ever-elegant Crowley in his night clothes.

No Such Thing As An Omen by FeralTuxedo (E)

On a snowy New Year’s Eve, rock star Anthony Crowley arrives at Tadfield Manor Hotel to check into his room. Under a fake name, naturally. But to his dismay, it has already been claimed, and the deceptively angelic impostor with the audacity to have stolen Crowley’s alias as well as his room doesn’t appear to want to vacate it any time soon.

Romancing The Tome by Anti_kate (E)

Romance novelist Aziraphale Wilder is pulled from his carefully ordered life when his sister is kidnapped and held to ransom. With the help of antiquities forger Anthony J Crowley, he braves the wilds of Scotland to rescue her and keep a priceless book from falling into the hands of dangerous book thieves.

Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth (E)

“Then you’ll just have to come back with me," Aziraphale said. “You what?” “You’ll have to come and isolate with me, at my cottage.” The thing about messing with people, Crowley thought, was that sometimes, they genuinely surprised you. After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.

- Mod D

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

⚡ - Charging Towards a More Electrifying Future

1. The Kissimmee River has been brought back to life—and wildlife is thriving

The Kissimmee River in Florida was straightened in the 1960s, causing a sharp decline in wildlife and ecological problems. But in the 1990s, a $1 billion restoration project was initiated to restore the river's natural state.

Today, nearly half of the river has been restored, wetlands have been reestablished and rehydrated, and wildlife has returned, including rare and threatened species. Already the biological impact of the project has become clear. As the wetlands have come back, so have the birds.

2. Plastic wrap made from seaweed withstands heat and is compostable

A cling film made from an invasive seaweed can withstand high temperatures yet is still easily compostable. The material could eventually become a sustainable choice for food packaging.

Scientists started with a brown seaweed called sargassum. Sargassum contains long, chain-like molecules similar to those that make up conventional plastic, which made it a good raw material. The researchers mixed it with some acids and salts to get a solution full of these molecules, then blended in chemicals that thickened it and made it more flexible and pliable.

3. An Eagle Who Adopted a Rock Becomes a Real Dad to Orphaned Eaglet

Murphy, a bald eagle that had been showing fatherly instincts, has been sharing an enclosure with an eaglet that survived a fall from a tree during a storm in Ste. Genevieve. Murphy, his rock gone by then, took his role as foster parent seriously. He soon began responding to the chick’s peeps, and protecting it.

And when, as a test, the keepers placed two plates of food in front of the birds — one containing food cut into pieces that the chick could eat by itself, and another with a whole fish that only Murphy could handle — the older bird tore up the fish and fed it to the eaglet.

4. World's largest battery maker announces major breakthrough in energy density

In one of the most significant battery breakthroughs in recent years, the world’s largest battery manufacturer CATL has announced a new “condensed” battery with 500 Wh/kg which it says will go into mass production this year.

“The launch of condensed batteries will usher in an era of universal electrification of sea, land and air transportation, open up more possibilities of the development of the industry, and promote the achieving of the global carbon neutrality goals at an earlier date,” the company said in a presentation at Auto Shanghai on Thursday.

This could be huge. Electric jets and cargo ships become very possible at this point.

5. Cat with '100% fatal' feline coronavirus saved by human Covid-19 medicine

A beloved household cat has made an “astonishing” recovery from a usually fatal illness, thanks to a drug made to treat Covid-19 in humans – and a quick-thinking vet.

Anya​, the 7-year-old birman cat, was suffering from feline infectious peritonitis (FIP), a “100% fatal” viral infection caused by feline coronavirus. That was, until Auckland vet Dr Habin Choi​ intervened, giving Anya an antiviral used to treat Covid-19 called molnupiravir.

6. Kelp forests capture nearly 5 million tonnes of CO2 annually

Kelp forests provide an estimated value of $500 billion to the world and capture 4.5 million tonnes of carbon dioxide from seawater each year. Most of kelp’s economic benefits come from creating habitat for fish and by sequestering nitrogen and phosphorus.

7. Medical Marijuana Improved Parkinson’s Disease Symptoms in 87% of Patients

Medical cannabis (MC) has recently garnered interest as a potential treatment for neurologic diseases, including Parkinson's disease (PD). 87% of patients were noted to exhibit an improvement in any PD symptom after starting medical cannabis. Symptoms with the highest incidence of improvement included cramping/dystonia, pain, spasticity, lack of appetite, dyskinesia, and tremor.

----

That's it for this week :)

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[merrybloomwrites]

I'll Be There for You - Platonic Smosh x Reader

Summary: 2020 starts great for reader before covid enters the chat and flips her world upside down. Her friends at Smosh are there to support her through one of the hardest times of her life.

Word Count: 2.5K

CW: covid, quarantine, parent death, panic attack

AN: Was listening to a Smosh Mouth episode and they brought up filming during quarantine and it randomly inspired this story. I lost my own dad during covid and Smosh was absolutely one of my escapes during that time so this story may just be me processing that haha

No romantic relationships for reader in this, just lots of supportive friends.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the moment you hear about this new virus, you’re nervous about it. The news stations are trying to keep everything positive, spin it like this is no big deal. But what you see on social media is telling a different story.

You’re not so much worried for yourself as you are for your family. They’re all the way across the country on the east coast while you’re in Los Angeles. And many of your family members have lung issues. While you don’t know much about this coronavirus, it seems to be most harmful to people’s lungs, leaving you to worry. 

It seems crazy to be taking a trip right now, but the threat doesn’t seem to be too bad. Travel is still permitted, and so your group goes ahead with your trip to Australia. You’ve been looking forward to this for months, and try so hard to not allow your anxieties overshadow your excitement. 

It’s a solid group on the trip: Shayne, Courtney, Ian, Damien, Sarah, and Matt Raub. All of you are trying to ignore the increasingly worrisome news and keep things light. You attend two different expos, doing live shows as well as meet and greets with fans. Those bookend the trip, with lots of different activities in the middle, including visits to a couple zoos to learn about local wildlife. 

You hold koalas and snakes, laugh with your friends, and for a little while, you forget all about the bad things that are happening. 

But you can’t hide from it forever. Despite everyone joking about the virus, you can’t help but be afraid. Every day of the trip, more news is revealed, and things look more and more grim. 

Towards the end of the trip you do a couple planned meet and greets at Sydney’s Madame Tussauds. You’re on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, feeling like every person you talk to could be carrying this unpredictable virus. 

Ian picks up on this and pulls you aside during a break.

“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his face.

“I can’t shake this feeling, like we’re all going to get infected and then bring it back home, and every time a new person comes in the room it’s like another chance for germs to spread. What happens if we get sick? We don’t know anything about this virus, or what it can do to people, and there’s more and more cases everyday-” your rambling cuts off as you gasp for a breath. The panic attack is officially setting in, the room spinning around you as it gets harder to breathe. 

You hear Ian say something, but the ringing in your ears prevents you from understanding him. A moment later Sarah is standing in front of you, catching your eye and encouraging you to breathe with her. After a minute of matching her breaths, you’ve calmed down and gotten through the worst of the panic attack. 

Sarah leads you to the couch, sitting next to you, close enough to be a grounding presence but far enough that you don’t feel closed in. Ian walks over, crouching in front of you and handing you a water bottle. 

“Sorry about that,” you finally say.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Sarah says. “Your feelings are completely valid.”

Ian nods before saying, “I know we’re all making jokes about this, but I think everyone’s just covering up how scared they are. I’m definitely scared. You’re right to say that there’s so much we don’t know. I’d say don’t worry about all that, but that’s stupid because you’re gonna worry anyway.” 

You laugh at that, feeling much better now knowing that you’re not alone. Ian smiles and places a comforting hand on your knee and you reach out to hold Sarah’s hand as well. The three of you sit for a moment and then Shayne walks in the room saying, “Time to start up again.”

He looks at you guys, sees the redness in your eyes and notices the way the others are comforting you and asks, “Everything okay?”

“Yea, I’m good now,” you answer. “We’ll be right out.”

Shayne nods and walks away. You go to stand but before you can get up Ian says, “You don’t have to go back out there if you’re not comfortable. We can do the rest without you if you need some space.”

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” you reply. He smiles and gives your leg one last squeeze before standing and giving you a hand up. It’s a nice moment, one where you’re reminded about how wonderful it is to work for Ian. He’s a kind boss, but also like a big brother to you, and you appreciate having him in your life. 

The rest of the time in Australia goes smoothly, and then it’s time to fly home. Sarah and Ian stick by you throughout the long day of travel. You don’t ask them to, but you can tell they’re worried that you’ll get anxious in such a crowded space. Somehow that makes it easier, and you’re able to spend the day joking with your friends rather than panicking. 

You’re exhausted when you get home, saying a rushed goodbye to your friends and heading home.

And then the isolation begins. The world practically shuts down completely as soon as you get back to the states. You go from constantly being around people, to being completely alone. It’s fine at first, you’re exhausted from traveling and this gives you a good excuse to be lazy for a few days. 

You spend a lot of time on the phone with your family, begging them to stay inside the house and stay safe. And they seem to listen, only going out twice for supplies. But apparently that’s all it takes. 

Just over a week after the Australia trip your mom gets sick. It’s obvious right away that it’s covid. For one thing, your mom has worked with children for decades. Her immune system is impeccable, you’ve never seen her get a cold or the flu before. For her to be sick is odd, plus she has all the symptoms, so it’s a no brainer.

And then a few days later, your dad is sick as well. You knew it was inevitable, that once the virus was in the house he was going to get it as well, but hearing it for sure makes your blood run cold. 

He already has a couple of lung issues, and you can’t help but feel like this isn’t going to go well. You hate that you’re stuck on opposite coasts and can’t do anything to help. You call them as much as possible, wanting to stay positive and hearing their voices always helps.

But then your dad gets worse and ends up in the hospital. You finally tell your Smosh friends what is going on. You’d kept it quiet at first, but they picked up that something is wrong. 

You try to continue on like normal, assuring your friends that you’re fine, but they don’t accept that. While they never overstep, you’re often surprised with kind texts or things appearing on your doorstep. 

It’s a particularly bad day. Your dad has just been placed on a ventilator. You get the news while in a zoom meeting, and everyone can tell that something has happened. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Courtney asks. 

You shake your head no and think about what to answer. You could be vague, just say it’s an update about your father and leave it at that. But these are people that care about you, that want to support you. 

“My dad just got put on a ventilator,” you reply. 

“My god, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Did they say anything else?” Shayne says. 

“Apparently the doctors said it’s a preventative measure. Supposed to let his lungs heal. But we’ve all seen the statistics. Most covid patients don’t come off the vent.” 

“If you need to go you can,” Ian says. “Don’t feel like you need to stay on this call.”

“No, that’s okay. I’d rather keep working. Either that or sit in silence in my apartment,” you answer with a shrewd laugh. 

“Alright, well if you need to leave at any time please feel free. No explanation needed, we’ll understand,” Ian says. 

The meeting resumes and you sit quietly while they plan the upcoming Smosh Games schedule. You don’t have any input, and it’s pretty clear you’re not really listening, but you’re comforted by the sound of your friends' voices. 

The zoom call finishes, and you’re left alone with your thoughts. You’re not sure how much time passes, but the sun has moved to shine through a new window as husk begins so it must be a while. 

You’re startled back to reality by a text on your phone. Your heart races, fearing it’s you mom with even worse news. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see it’s from Spencer, his message saying, “Check out your front door.”

Doing as he’d instructed, you see a bag that had been delivered. It’s takeout from chilis, enough food for multiple meals, all your favorites. 

This is just what you needed. Your appetite hasn't been great, but smelling the familiar food has your stomach growling. After sending him a thank you message you dig in. 

Now full of comfort food, you manage to do your normal nightly routine of cleaning up the apartment and taking a shower. You go to bed feeling scared, but supported. 

Three days later, you get the news you’d been dreading. Your moms calls in the morning, saying the doctors think he won’t make it through the day. It’s a Sunday, and you have nothing to distract you. People text, but you leave them unanswered. 

It’s a beautiful day in Los Angeles, and you do the only thing you’re allowed to do: take a walk. 

Losing track of time, you wander through neighborhoods, making sure to keep distance from other people out walking. It pains you to see happy families, people who are making the most out of this pandemic. People whose lives aren’t being drastically changed forever. 

You get back home in the early afternoon. Soon after, your mom calls. You almost ignore it, knowing what she’s going to say but wanting to delay the inevitable. But you know you can’t do that. 

It’s a short conversation, your mother unable to say too much between the tears. 

You hang up feeling numb. It grows dark outside and finally you text Ian, asking for the next day off. 

His response is immediate, expressing his condolences and telling you to take at least the week off. You ask him to send a message to the others, not wanting to have to do it yourself. 

You wrap yourself into a cocoon of blankets, lay in bed, and cry over the loss. 

The next few days you find that you’re exhausted, with random bursts of high energy. You use the energy to respond to your friends' messages, thanking them for reaching out and telling them you’re okay. 

You speak on the phone with Damien for a while a couple days after it happens. While all of your friends are supportive, he’s the only one who’s been through this before. He truly understands what it’s like to lose a father. His experience, his words, everything he has to offer is incredibly comforting to you. And when he says he’ll always be there to listen, you know he’s telling the truth and not just saying what he thinks is the “right thing”. 

And then that Thursday, just a couple days after your dads death, the vlog of your time in Australia is released. 

You get the notification that it’s been posted as you always do, and instead of being excited that a new video is up, it sends you into a breakdown. You’re crying, gasping for breath, and you need someone there with you. 

For the first time since all of this began you cannot be alone. People have been offering to stop by and because it’s been over two weeks since any of you have been around others it’s technically safe. But you always refused, assuring them that you’re fine. 

Now, however, you need people around you. Through tears you find your phone and immediately call Courtney, asking if she and Shayne could come over. She says yes without hesitation and stays on the call while the two of them make their way to your place. 

Needing the comfort of your room you say, “Front door is open. I’ll be in my bedroom when you get here.”

“Just a couple more minutes,” Courtney replies as you climb under the covers. 

“Okay,” you murmur to let her know you heard her. 

As promised she and Shayne enter a few minutes later. Without hesitation Courtney climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in your arms. You melt into the embrace, sobs ripping through your body. 

When you’ve finally cried yourself out, you pull away and notice Shayne’s no longer in the room. A moment later he walks back in, carrying water, tissues, and your favorite cookies. You smile weakly at him and pat the bed, inviting him to join you and Courtney. 

He sits next to you, and you’re effectively sandwiched between the two of them. It’s comforting to be surrounded by two of your best friends. You’d always been close with them, and we’re happy that nothing changed when they started dating. 

They’re two people who will always have your back, no matter what. They stay with you until the next morning, Shayne leaving temporarily to pick up anything he and Courtney need for the night. 

You hadn’t realized how much you needed to be around people, but it’s clear how much it helps to actually see people and talk to them without a screen. 

Finally, you start accepting people’s invitations to hang out. You make good use of your apartment complex’s patio area so that you can hang out while still social distancing. You don’t often talk about your dad or how you’re doing, but rather about other mundane things. It feels good to talk to friends about something even somewhat normal. 

The other cast members take turns filling in for videos that you’re supposed to appear in. You’d tried going back to business as usual, but found that you couldn’t be as lighthearted and funny as you usually were. Rather than try to fake it, you’d switched to a more behind the scenes role for the time being. 

In May and June, fans start to notice that you aren’t appearing in any videos. Many theories float around, and you decide you’re ready to make the news about your dad public, instead of letting the rumors continue to spread. 

You make a post about your father on Instagram, a picture of the two of you with a caption explaining the loss. Support floods in, from friends, family, and fans alike. 

Though it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever experienced, it’s so nice to know you have such wonderful people who will always have your back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thanks so much for reading! I'm working on two stories for Whumptober, One Spencer x reader and the other Damien x reader!

[murmiss]

Our love.

Pairing- Simon "Ghost" Riley/reader.

Chapter warning- none, light smut, Still just fluff and tenderness, but next chapter Angst!!!!

Summary- A meeting on New Year's Eve turns to love. A strong, fiery love. But. Suddenly Simon's childhood friend Samantha shows up, and she's not herself. It seemed your relationship was going through an emotional seesaw and it was Samantha who was causing it, because Simon could only belong to her. Not you.

(The ending will be good)

Part1, Part2

Part one.

Wounded by life and many battles, Simon didn't think he'd ever be able to fall in love or get anything more than a quick fuck. Sex was an everyday occurrence, something he could get easily, even with his seemingly unattractive appearance. But real feelings were something out of the ordinary, something he longed for.

The encounter took place in December, when Simon was lonely on a holiday night, lighting a cigarette on the street. He was on his way to get a new bottle of alcohol, and awkwardly wondered about his mates who were celebrating with their families. Price was visiting his brother and his family, Gaz was welcoming the new year with his girlfriend Millie, and Jonny, even more so, with his parents. The image of Soap, dressed in a silly reindeer sweater, his mother, in a white apron, putting food on a plate popped into Simon's mind. Unconsciously he pictured himself at their table, surrounded by family and comfort. Johnny had actually offered to take him to visit for the holidays, but Simon had declined, deciding he didn't want to intrude. Trudging through the slippery road, covered with a thin layer of snow, and skirting the drifts, Simon slowly made his way to the small store nearby. The snow crunched under his boots, and the snowflakes landed on his eyelashes and hairline, melting immediately.

Upon reaching, Simon opens the creaky door and his eyes are immediately blinded by the bright light. Entering the store, Simon immediately heard an emotional argument and with his eyes he searched for the source of the noise. His gaze fell toward the cash register where his acquaintance Danny, the store owner and a young girl were standing.

"How the hell is it you can't sell me a goddamn bottle of shitty alcohol?" -already being slightly tipsy and frustrated you replied. It's New Year's Eve and it's going incredibly shitty. Living in another city, you thought making friends would be easy, but it's not. How do you make conversation? Do you just walk up and say, "Hey, dude? Let's be friends?" But no, it doesn't work that way. Not among adults, that's for sure.

After your mother died, you had to move away just to avoid seeing the face of your 'beloved' father. He was an asshole, but you didn't want to think about it. Life was hard and now, the only thing you honestly burned was a bottle of cheap booze to cheer yourself up. There was a cat at home and an empty fridge, but you didn't care. Your shift had ended just a few hours ago, and you didn't have the energy to not only decorate, but even cook.

"Ma'am, we can't sell to you, the cash register is already closed," Danny insisted firmly. The ghost, knowing it was just laziness, laughed dryly and, with a slight chuckle in his voice said, "Hey,Dan."

The guy behind the counter immediately exhaled and smiled, relaxing away from the disgruntled girl to chat with his acquaintance.

"It's late and you're still at work?" Simon asked dryly, but with a smile. Only the outline of his lips showed through the mask. In retirement, outside of his second self, Simon continued to wear the mask, but over half of his face, and every time people asked, he answered, "Protection from the coronavirus." And people seriously believed his joke.

"Actually, no, I'm closing, but this lady is in my way," Danny replied, defiantly turning around and giving an appraising look to the disheveled girl with the bottle in her hands. Danny was a pretty weird guy, lazy and very strange.

"Hey, I'm actually here and there while you guys are chatting. Sell me a bottle, dude," you exclaimed confusedly, lifting the bottle up and gesturing in desperation, but it was as if you weren't heard, and then you groaned, "Come on! Please! I'll show you my boobs"

Danny thought about it for a second and looked away from the girl again, and then, with a smirk, said, "Oh, girl, you're not impressing anyone with your tits tonight."

"Give me a bottle of whiskey," came Simon's gruff voice, clearly enjoying this strange situation.

"Sure thing, buddy," the russet-haired salesman replied smoothly, grabbing the bottle and punching it through the register.

You immediately shout indignantly : "hey, you're closed!".

To which you get a sharp reply: "Oh, girl, leave the store!"

"I've been coming here for a year, you..."-you don't have time to finish, as the big guy in the mask snatches the bottle from your hands and, grinning, says. "champagne? That's nice, try it too, Dan."

You stare at the man with a raised eyebrow for a couple of seconds, feeling both grateful and wanting to hit him over the head with the bottle. The man, rattling bottles, calls after you: "Let's go, neighbor." And you follow him.

It's cooler outside.

You look at the back of the big guy walking in front of you and pensively follow him, until an epiphany comes to you in a second. You let out a ragged groan, slap your warm gloved hand over your face, and catch up. "It's that what's-his-name... Raleigh. Rily.. Reyli... Riley, that's right, Riley," you think as you remember what his last name is on his mailbox.

"Why not with your family?" - Simon finally asks the question. Honestly, he doesn't know why he got into this adventure. In terms of... He was having fun watching this girl desperate to buy a bottle, and then... He found himself wondering. Simon recognized, though not immediately, his floor neighbor. Her apartment was the far one.

"I don't have anyone," comes the nonchalant reply. The girl stares pensively into the distance before asking back, "you? "

"Same shit."

They walk on and remain silent. The streetlights illuminate the already dark street, and the snow glistens under the bright lantern light. "Maybe..." - They both say in sync, and Simon feels awkward for the first time, muttering: "go on." The girl waits a few seconds and says, "Maybe.... Umm... Celebrate together? In terms of... Well. if you don't feel weird or something."

"Nah, I can't turn down the company of a pretty girl on this lonely night," Simon replies with a dash of flirtation he didn't expect himself.

A silly laugh escapes the girl's lips and Simon is ready to admit that it was the best laugh he's heard before.

It was a little awkward when Simon opened the door. His dog, Riley, immediately rushed to lick his guest and almost dropped the girl, but she laughed again. There seemed to be light coming from her disheveled hair, or it was his fantasy. She walked in awkwardly, but half an hour later they were sitting in his living room, wrapped in blankets and with a modest but cozy table. While Simon quickly cleaned up the mess, the girl ran to her apartment and brought some groceries, quickly chopping a salad for two, and Simon opened the champagne and poured it into glasses. To be honest, he'd never liked fancy and sweet champagne, finding it too feminine, but tonight was an exception. He really sympathized with this girl, who was carelessly and unafraid, sprawled on his couch and lazily stroked his dog Riley.

During the commercial break of the movie, Simon looked at the girl for a long time, and then, laughing, asked: "would you really show him your tits?"

"To whom?" she answered carelessly, but when she realized, she was immediately embarrassed and exclaimed: "God, no! It was a maneuver!" She gave an embarrassed shriek and her cheeks turned purple. She stared at Simon for a few seconds, then threw a small couch cushion at him, "You don't think well of me."

Simon just laughed. She was adorable.

From that vicious day, their relationship began. Living next door, they saw each other almost every day, saying hello in the elevator and looking forward to the next day and the next meeting.

You worked part-time at the Strawberry Nights cafe near your home, combining work with your hobby, drawing in between customers, sitting in a small staff room. Usually your sketchbook was full of simple drawings, crooked sketches of people that you drew out of boredom, maybe even funny caricatures of annoyed boss and colleagues. But it was different now. Instead of empty and idle drawings, your sketchbook was full of sketches of Simon, memorable moments of his appearance. Every tiny feature of his character, of his appearance, all reflected in the drawings. On the first page was a hand, a rough, masculine hand, but with a faint mole on the ring finger-a feature that not everyone would notice on close inspection, but you did. The scar above his left eyebrow, his blue eyes, like two bottomless oceans, his smile, like an aggressive grin but causing you to babble inwardly, his ridiculous laughter, driving you crazy.

Ah...Could it be love?

Sitting at a bar stool, you draw Riley's profile from memory, gently scribbling your pencil across the paper. Suddenly a shadow casts a frightening glare at you, forcing you to abruptly slam your sketchbook shut and look up, mentally hoping it's not your nasty boss and his damn inspections, but unfortunately, or fortunately, you meet your gaze with that bumbling hulk. A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and carelessly, without realizing it, you toss your hair back, carelessly fixing it. When did you ever start worrying about your appearance? Shit...

You bite your lip and mutter, "What do you want, Riley?"

He responds with his gruff and bassy laugh. You're lost for a second, and like a true villain, he speaks up. Too Hot.

-"When did I become Riley? What's the point of being formal, Ms. Barista?"- He's teasing again. He's being subtle.

"I'm on the job, Simon"-smiling playfully, rolling your eyes back and rising from your chair to stand taller, carelessly grabbing a mug from the table and saying in a pretend-sweet voice, "What would you like to order, sir? A mochaccino? Latte? Strawberry milkshake or for the classics?".

Simon froze with a smile on his face, unmasked, which was surprising in his case. Honestly, Riley didn't know what was going on, sitting on the edge of his bed at night, unable to get you out of his head. The smell of you, the sparkle in your eyes, the silly, slightly snorting laugh-- he thought he was going crazy. Why does he follow you? Why does he walk home slowly, to get home at the same time as you, for two minutes?

Is he in love? It hurts him to admit it, not when he's been shown so many times how insignificant a guy and lover he is. No one can accept him, and neither can you. But without listening to his brain, he goes back to the cafe where you work, gets closer to the counter and... Freezes. You paint? It's beautiful. What's beautiful? Your soft image, the careful movement of your hand drawing colored lines, the flutter of your eyelashes, or the drawing itself? He didn't know. The drawing, by the way. Riley lowered his gaze to the sketchbook itself and his heart skipped a few hard beats. Is that him? It can't be. No, definitely not. Or-- It's definitely him.

Before he knows it, you're startled and he can't help but laugh. You should see your eyes at that moment, like a kid caught red-handed.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"- Ghsot blurted out stupidly, instead of offering you a drink. His face was serious and his eyebrows were furrowed.

"Now?"-you replied, glancing at him confusedly, then turning toward the supervisor talking to your coworker. Turning back to the ghost, you whisper, leaning in, "I can't, the supervisor's here... My shift ends at 5:00 p.m."

He nods, and you lean back, slightly taken aback, watching him. He, without the slightest trace of his previous smile, turns around and walks to the window, taking the farthest chair.

"He's going to sit there for three hours and wait for my shift to end?" - you ask awkwardly, embarrassed, but immediately chuckle softly. How silly of him.

All you had to do was pretend to Mr. Aaron that everything was fine and not stare at Simon like a crazy woman. Well. Even if it didn't look pretty - sitting there drooling and staring at a customer - you didn't care anymore. Your shift was over, and you'd even managed to excuse yourself half an hour early. Nervous, you go to the staff room and take a long spin in front of the mirror.

"Damn! Why am I not ready today!" - You sigh nervously, and when you hear a woman giggling, you turn around sharply as well. Your heart is pounding like you've been launched by a rocket into space, but it was only Mindy.

"Damn it, Min!" -you reply with annoyance, patting yourself on the side in embarrassment. "Maybe... Maybe I should tell Simon I'm not feeling well. I'll look like a complete fool," you think at the same time.

"What are you thinking?" - Mindsy asks, innocently flapping her eyes. She was certainly annoying at times, but right now she was the only person you could complain to.

"I got called out of the blue for a date, and... I look like I crawled out of a dumpster. Seriously. I thought it was going to rain tonight, but..... Mud... and.. So I wore the first thing I could get my hands on. " - You make an embarrassed excuse, involuntarily lowering your gaze to the floor from your growing embarrassment. You don't know what to do, and Mindsy giggles like nothing happened. You flare up like a match and just want to respond to her laughter with a wry, "What's so funny?" but before you can say anything, the blonde pulls off her pink top.

"what are you doing on?" you ask confused.

"can't I help my friend?" she replies, staying in her bra and carelessly pulling a handkerchief out of her bag and tying it on herself in a bandeau top style. Honestly, she was so stupid, but when it came to style, she was incredibly resourceful.

"friend"-you whisper under your breath, as if you can't believe you can call her a friend, though now you realize that yes, you can.

"I'm not sure I can"-You hold her top in your hands, looking uncertainly at the blonde woman adjusting her makeup.

"Shut up, hurry up and get changed, and come here I'll do your makeup."-The girl replies, smacking her lips in front of the mirror and admiring her makeup quite a bit.

"You always have your makeup bag with you"-you giggle in response and quickly throw off your work uniform, putting it away carelessly in a drawer. You put on your blue jeans and the pink top Mindsy gave you over the top. Thank goodness you wore the same size clothes.

Honestly, it was weird as hell to wear someone else's clothes, and-- The feel of Mindsy's gentle hands was also suggestive.Unconsciously you smile as the image of you being a star in a movie plays in your head.Min hums a tune, and soon with a smug smile she pulls away.The makeup was lovely, and consisted of light pink blush, unobtrusive glitter on your eyelids, mascara to open up your fawn look, and a light gloss on your lips.

"Come on, run along, pretty girl, your prince on a white horse is waiting for you"-winks Mindsy and you, carelessly grabbing your bag, quickly leave the room, shouting to Min: "see you tomorrow!".

It seemed to Ghost that the hours had gone on impossibly long, he'd had three drinks, and all three times his fallout had fallen on strict espresso. But the Worst part was waiting to get ready. Scenarios played in his head as you were getting ready for the restaurant, you sitting in your lace shirt on the sofa and putting on lip gloss, your legs in lace stockings thrown one over the other and you relaxedly getting ready while he was already standing there in his suit. Simon gets hot, making him shift from foot to foot, sighing early and pulling back the neck of your sweatshirt, trying to get air under your clothes. As you walk out of that hellish staff room, his breath catches. He Nervously grabs your arm and pulls you behind him. You sigh raggedly, taken aback by his reaction.

The gears are turning in the ghost's head as he tries to figure out what you should do. A movie? He doesn't like movie theaters, go to a restaurant? That would tire you out, so only a bar or a walk sounded in his head. Glancing over at you, he immediately marked the Bar aside, because to Simon, pubs were always dirty places, with alcohol, and men who might stare at girls like you.

"There's an alcoholic ice cream store nearby," he blurts out, slowing down so that his gaze is directed at you, and inwardly Riley is very nervous.

"Alcoholic ice cream? I've never had anything like that before"-you giggle in response, and Simon immediately pulls you in. What's the rush? You don't know, but you follow him.

The store was small, but quite spacious. "Definitely for kinky drinkers," you think to yourself.

"There's Champagne and raspberry, tequila and lime, coconut rum, cognac and chocolate," you can't even make up your mind, your stomach rumbles with hunger and you don't have time to make a choice as this crazy man grabs every kind of ice cream for two. This snake smiles, and in a cocky, husky voice says, "Ice cream party? "

"Are you suggesting we get drunk on ice cream?" - You raise one eyebrow, your lips curving into a smile.

"No, I have a bottle of bourbon at home, let's go to my place," Simon carries the ice cream in his hands, careful not to drop any of the cans, and you grab a couple of them, wanting to help yourself steady yourself.

"Damn, you know what I want after a hard day's work, you're a wizard, aren't you?" -you say jokingly, and your eyes dart a little nervously to the last price tag. "Why is this ice cream so expensive?" - you think to yourself, but you raise an eyebrow in surprise when Simon holds out his card like nothing happened and pays for everything. He sure knows how to surprise.

"Where would you like to start?" - Ghost asks, looking into the bag and pulling out a brandy ice cream for himself.

"With raspberries," you follow his movements carefully and pick up a brightly colored box and a small plastic scoop. While Simon fiddles with the packaging, you taste the first spoonful.

"This is fucking delicious! " you mutter and hurriedly send spoonful after spoonful of ice cream into your mouth until your jaw freezes. You let out a ragged groan and giggle awkwardly, and Simon hurries after you, finishing his ice cream.

As you stroll through the dark courtyards and backyards, eating the most delicious ice cream of your life, you don't notice how intoxicated you are, and you find yourself in Riley's familiar apartment. You're sitting on the couch, stretched out in a relaxed pose, the TV is on pause, and Simon is in the kitchen heating up the pizza you just had delivered.

Time passed, and all that could be heard was your lecherous laughter and Riley's periodic barking. The bottle of bourbon disappeared in a matter of hours, as did all the ice cream and pizza.

"I feel like a balloon, Si" you laugh, clutching your stomach and gasping. The asshole paws at you like a cat, smirking through his teeth and whispering almost in your ear: "You should know how I feel when I have a hot girl like that around me."

"I'm a hot dog," you laugh again, then fall silent. You are so drunk. You say, "You're such an asshole," in a low, almost without hesitation, voice. You stare at his lips. Everything is happening slowly and yet so fast at the same time. His rough hands lift you easily off the couch and carry you confidently, even impatiently, straight to his hideout, dropping you carelessly onto the bed. Your hair spreads across the pillows and you let out a ragged groan, "Hey!" But no sooner do you resent it than he kisses you. Like a hungry dog. His hands shake and he piles on top of you, almost crushing you with his weight. He pulls away. You smile softly and playfully say, "Hey, you're heavy." He hesitates, but then you say, "Come here, damn it." You open your arms and he immediately snuggles up to you, kissing your face. You giggle in response, looking up at him with half-closed eyes. He pulls away, assumes a sitting position, and nervously throws off his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. With rough hands covered in tattoos and scars, he carelessly grabs you by the top of your head.

"Stop!" - you squeaked, but not before he ripped the fabric with ease. Holy shit, it was Mindsy's top. But his action was so hot. You bite your lip, thinking to yourself that you'll buy her a new one. It's a little awkward, but you'll give her some kind of certificate and she won't be offended.

"Oh, God," you plead, arching your spine. Simon, like an insatiable, hungry dog, covers your body with kisses.

His caresses, rough and tender, every part of your body is art to him, your skin glistens, and in his eyes you are no less than Aphrodite.

Simon feels a slight shame, he feels like he is spoiling you with his twisted mind, his dirty hands touching your pure body and his lips corrupting your mind. But he can't stop, trying to be as careful as possible.

"Too big, Si," you whisper nervously, and he catches up immediately, stroking you gently through your hair, sliding his hands smoothly over your stomach, stroking you just as gently, as if you could vaporize at any moment.

"It's okay, baby, I got you," he whispers back.

Honestly, he didn't want to wake up this morning. Sleeping next to your soft and so beloved body, your natural gentle scent, the comfort that surrounded him. Next to you, he didn't remember the traumas of childhood and violent fights.

He really fucking loves you.

(The second part is in progress, but your reaction is very important to me. Write comments, put reactions so that I understand that you really like it. The most interesting part of this story is ahead.)

[feminist-space]

"“It’s not your fault,” I told 16-year-old Cara, whose mother died of a SARS-CoV-2 infection [Cara] gave her. To be clear, the doctor confirmed Cara (not her real name) had passed on the virus and Covid was entered on the death certificate as the cause of death.

Cara’s mother had not been outside their home in the weeks preceding her death.

When masks were dropped in the “Omicron’s mild” phase of the pandemic, Cara continued as the lone masker at school to protect her immunocompromised mother, who was undergoing chemotherapy. It was tolerable until a child psychotherapist said on the national airwaves that some girls would continue to mask anyway “to hide their acne”.

His words were used to bully her. Cara left, but without support from teachers she strugg­led. Her parents pleaded with the school to use the Hepa filter they bought. The school refused.

Cara eventually returned to school unmasked, caught Covid and infected her mam. It killed her. Cara self-harms because she blames herself. She hasn’t been to school since.

Research shows that more than 70pc of Sars-CoV-2 transmission in households started with a child.

The incidence was highest during unmitigat­ed in-person schooling. In a recent paper, Dr Pantea Javidan, of Stanford’s Centre for Human Rights, described the ways children’s rights to life, health and safety during the ongoing pandemic have been falsely rendered oppositional to education and development.

Methods used to manufacture consent to forcibly, repeatedly infect children, according to Dr Javidan, include minimising harms to children (“kids don’t get it or spread it”, “it’s mild”) and moral panic around mental health and educational attainment.

Regarding mental health, in August a study looking at paediatric psychiatric emergencies found school openings – not lockdowns – were associated with an increase in the number of emergency psychiatric visits.

In May, a study found that children with and without congenital heart defects showed increased risks for a variety of cardiovascular outcomes (including cardiac arrest, clots, palpitations) after Sars-CoV-2 infection.

In July, a study found that children and teenagers experienced cognitive impairment 12 months post-Covid infection, consistently correlated with poorer sleep and behavioural and emotional functioning.

Last month alone, several studies were published documenting Covid paediatric harms.

One found that children and adolescents experience prolonged symptoms post-Sars-CoV-2 infection in almost every organ system.

Study co-author Professor Lawrence C Kleinman said: “We have convincing evidence that Covid is not just a mild, benign illness for children. This is a new chronic illness in children. We need to be prepared to deal with it for a generation.”

Another study analysing paediatric and adult hospitalisations found teenagers were at greatest risk of severe disease among all children. Yet another study showed compelling connections between viral infection and subsequent autoimmune disease. Early in the pandemic, some children showed negligible Covid symptoms, only to later develop organ failure.

Researchers found the children’s immune systems had latched on to a part of the coronavirus that closely resembles a protein found in the heart, lungs, kidneys, brain, skin, eyes and GI tract and launched a catastrophic attack on their own tissues. “Experts” who claimed asymptomatic paediatric Sars2 infections equals mild were catastrophically wrong.

Covid is consistently a leading cause of US child mortality. Paediatric mortality has increased markedly with each year of the pandemic in the US, UK and elsewhere. In 2022, over six times as many children died from Covid than from flu in the US."

[tomorrowusa]

Just so nobody can say this is out of context, here's a vid of the entire interview.

The Obama administration successfully contained the Ebola outbreak in the United States. The death toll for Ebola in the US was under a dozen. So before leaving office, the Obama National Security Council created a 69-page handbook on how to deal with a pandemic. Trump and his flunkies ignored it with disastrous results.

Trump team failed to follow NSC’s pandemic playbook

The US death toll from COVID-19 is in seven digits. Other industrialized countries with advanced technological infrastructure such as Canada, Taiwan, Germany, and New Zealand had lower fatality rates per capita.

Trump largely ignored the virus until well into March when it had a chance to spread across the US.

The missing six weeks: how Trump failed the biggest test of his life The president was aware of the danger from the coronavirus – but a lack of leadership has created an emergency of epic proportions

The Trump administration, at best, was in denial; at worst, it sabotaged the pandemic response.

Trump White House made 'deliberate efforts' to undermine Covid response, report says

Trump zombies who claim the economy was marvelous under Trump conveniently forget about everything that happened after February of 2020. Trump's early bungling of the pandemic plunged the economy into recession. The COVID supply chain problems and the economic stimulus required to prevent a depression led to the spurt in inflation which is finally receding.

People who are nostalgic about taking hydroxychloroquine and ivermectin, drinking bleach, and sticking UV lights up their butts must be excited about the opportunity to vote for Trump again.

[mariacallous]

If Benjamin Netanyahu had accepted defeat in June 2021, finally yielding the stage to a coalition of his opponents, he could have retired at the age of 71 with a decent claim to having been one of Israel’s more successful prime ministers.

He had already surpassed the time in office of Israel’s founder, David Ben-Gurion, becoming the country’s longest-serving prime minister in 2019. His second stretch in office, from 2009 to 2021, coincided with perhaps the best 12 years Israel had known since its founding in 1948. The country enjoyed relative security, with no major wars or prolonged Intifadas. The period was one of uninterrupted economic growth and prosperity. Thanks to its early adoption of widespread vaccination, Israel was one of the first countries in the world to emerge from the coronavirus pandemic. And toward the end of that span came three agreements establishing diplomatic relations with Arab countries; more were likely on the way.

Twelve years of Netanyahu’s leadership had seemingly made Israel more secure and prosperous, with deep trade and defense ties across the world. But this wasn’t enough to win him another term. A majority of Israelis had tired of him, and he had been tainted by charges of bribery and fraud in his dealings with billionaires and press barons. In the space of 24 months, Israel held four elections ending in stalemate, with neither Netanyahu nor his rivals winning a majority. Finally, an unlikely alliance of right-wing, centrist, left-wing, and Islamist parties managed to band together and replace him with his former aide Naftali Bennett in June 2021.

At that point, Netanyahu could have sealed his legacy. A plea bargain on offer from the attorney general would have ended his corruption trial with a conviction on reduced charges and no jail time. He would have had to leave politics, probably for good. Over the course of four decades in public life, including 15 years as prime minister and 22 as the Likud party’s leader, he had already left an indelible mark on Israel, dominating the second half of its history. But he couldn’t bear the thought of giving up power.

Within 18 months, he was back as prime minister for the third time. The unwieldy coalition that replaced him had imploded, and this time around, Netanyahu’s camp of far-right and religious parties ran a disciplined campaign, exploiting the weaknesses of their divided rivals to emerge with a small parliamentary majority, despite still being virtually tied in the vote count.

Nine months later, Netanyahu, the man who promised, above everything else, to deliver security for Israel’s citizens, presided over the darkest day in his country’s existence. A total breakdown of the Israeli military and intelligence structure allowed Hamas to breach Israel’s border and embark on a rampage of murder, kidnapping, and rape, killing more than 1,100 Israelis and taking more than 250 hostage. The calamities of that day, the failures of leadership leading up to it, and the traumas it caused will haunt Israel for generations. Even leaving completely aside the war he has prosecuted since that day and its yet-unknown end, October 7 means that Netanyahu will always be remembered as Israel’s worst-ever leader.

How does one measure a prime minister?

There is no broadly accepted ranking of the 13 men and one woman who have led Israel, but most lists would feature David Ben-Gurion at the top. Not only was he the George Washington of the Jewish state, proclaiming its independence just three years after a third of the Jewish people had been exterminated in the Holocaust, but his administration established many of the institutions and policies that define Israel to this day. Other favorites include Levi Eshkol, for his shrewd and prudent leadership in the tense weeks before the Six Day War, and Menachem Begin, for achieving the country’s first peace agreement with an Arab nation, Egypt.

All three of these men had mixed records and detractors, of course. Ben-Gurion had autocratic tendencies and was consumed by party infighting during his later years in office. After the Six Day War, Eshkol failed to deliver a coherent plan for what Israel should do with the new territories it occupied and the Palestinians who have remained under its rule ever since. In Begin’s second term, Israel entered a disastrous war in Lebanon, and his government nearly tanked the economy. But in most Israelis’ minds, these leaders’ positive legacies outweigh the negatives.

Who are the “worst prime ministers”? Until now, most Israelis regarded Golda Meir as the top candidate for that dismal title. The intelligence failure leading to the Yom Kippur War was on her watch. Before the war, she rejected Egyptian overtures toward peace (though some Israeli historians have recently argued that these were less than sincere). And when war was clearly imminent, her administration refrained from launching preemptive attacks that could have saved the lives of hundreds of soldiers.

Other “worst” candidates have included Ehud Olmert, for launching the second Lebanon war and becoming Israel’s first former prime minister to go to prison for corruption; Yitzhak Shamir, for kiboshing an agreement with Jordan’s King Hussein that many believe could have been a significant step toward resolving the Israel-Palestinian conflict; and Ehud Barak, for spectacularly failing to fulfill his extravagant promises to bring peace with both the Palestinians and Syria.

But Benjamin Netanyahu now surpasses these contenders by orders of magnitude. He has brought far-right extremists into the mainstream of government and made himself, and the country, beholden to them. His corruption is flamboyant. And he has made terrible security decisions that brought existential danger to the country he pledged to lead and protect. Above all, his selfishness is without parallel: He has put his own interests ahead of Israel’s at every turn.

Netanyahu has the distinction of being the only Israeli prime minister to make a once reviled movement on the right fringe of the country’s politics into a government stakeholder.

Rabbi Meir Kahane, the founder of a Jewish-supremacist group called Kach, won a lone seat in the Knesset in 1984. He openly called for replacing Israeli democracy with a constitution based on the laws of the Torah and for denying Israel’s Arab citizens equal rights. During Kahane’s single legislative term, the entire Israeli political establishment shunned him. When he got up to speak in the Knesset, all of its members would leave the plenum.

In 1985, Likud joined other parties in changing election law so that those who denied Israel’s democratic identity, denied its Jewish identity, or incited racism could be barred from running for office. Under this provision, Kach was never allowed to compete in another election. Kahane was assassinated in New York in 1990. Four years later, a member of his movement killed 29 Muslims at prayer in Hebron, and the Israeli government proscribed Kach as a terror organization and forced it to disband.

But the Kahanists didn’t go away. With each Israeli election, they tried to rename their movement and adjust its platform to conform with electoral law. They remained ostracized. Then, in 2019, Netanyahu saw a roadblock on his path to reelection that they could help him get around.

Several Israeli parties had pledged not to serve in a government led by an indicted prime minister—quite possibly, enough of them to shut Netanyahu out of power. To prevent that from happening, Netanyahu needed to eke out every possible right-wing and religious vote for his potential coalition. The polls were predicting that the latest Kahanist iteration, the Jewish Power party, which is led by the thuggish but media-savvy Itamar Ben-Gvir, would receive only about 10,000 votes, well below the threshold needed to make the party a player on its own; but Netanyahu believed that if he could persuade the Kahanists and other small right-wing parties to merge their candidates’ lists into a joint slate, together they could win a seat or two for his potential coalition—just what he needed for a majority.

Netanyahu began pressuring the leaders of the small right-wing parties to merge their lists. At first the larger of these were outraged. Netanyahu was meddling in their affairs and, worse, trying to coerce them to accept the Kahanist outcasts. Gradually, he wore down their resistance—employing rabbis to persuade politicians, orchestrating media campaigns in the nationalist press, and promising central roles in future administrations. Media figures close to Netanyahu accused Bezalel Smotrich, a fundamentalist settler and the new leader of the religious Zionist party, of “endangering” the nation by making it easier for the hated left to win the election. Soon enough, Smotrich’s old-school national-religious party merged not only with Ben-Gvir’s Jewish Power but with an even more obscure, proudly homophobic party led by Avi Maoz.

Netanyahu did worry a bit about the optics. Throughout five stalemated election campaigns from 2019 to 2022, Likud coordinated closely with Jewish Power, but Netanyahu refused to be seen in public with Ben-Gvir. During the 2022 campaign, at a religious festival, he even waited backstage for Ben-Gvir to leave the premises before going up to make his speech.

Two weeks later, there was no longer any need to keep up the act. Netanyahu’s strategy succeeded: His coalition, merged into four lists, edged out its squabbling opponents with 64 of the Knesset’s 120 seats.

Netanyahu finally had the “right-wing in full” government he had often promised. But before he could return to the prime minister’s office, his allies demanded a division of the spoils. The ministries with the most influence on Israelis’ daily lives—health, housing, social services, and the interior—went to the ultra-Orthodox parties. Smotrich became finance minister; Maoz was appointed deputy minister in charge of a new “Agency for Jewish Identity,” with power to intervene in educational programs. And Ben-Gvir, the subject of numerous police investigations for violence and incitement over a period of three decades, was put in charge of a newly titled “Ministry of National Security,” with authority over Israel’s police and prison services.

As Netanyahu signed away power to the Kahanists, he told the international news media that he wasn’t forming a far-right government. The Kahanists were joining his government. He would be in control. But Netanyahu hadn’t just given Israel’s most extreme racists unprecedented power and legitimacy. He’d also insinuated them into his own formerly mainstream party: By March 2024, Likud’s candidates for local elections in a handful of towns had merged their slates with those of Jewish Power.

Likud long prided itself on combining staunch Jewish nationalism, even militarism, with a commitment to liberal democracy. But a more radical stream within the party eschewed those liberal values and championed chauvinistic and autocratic positions. For much of the past century, the liberal wing was dominant and provided most of the party’s leadership. Netanyahu himself espoused the values of the liberal wing—until he fell out with all the main liberal figures. By 2019, none was left to oppose the alliance with Ben-Gvir’s Kahanists.

Now more than a third of Likud’s representatives were religious, and those who weren’t preferred to call themselves “traditional” rather than secular. They didn’t object to cooperating with the Kahanists; indeed, many had already worked with them in the past. In fact, many Likud Knesset members by that point were indistinguishable from the Jewish Power ones. Israel’s worst prime minister didn’t just form an alliance of convenience with the country’s most irresponsible extremists; he made them integral to his party and the running of the state.

That Netanyahu is personally corrupt is not altogether novel in the history of the Israeli prime ministership. What makes him worse than others is his open contempt for the rule of law.

By 2018, Netanyahu was the subject of four simultaneous corruption investigations that had been in motion for more than a year. In one, known as Case 4000, Netanyahu stood accused of promising regulatory favors to the owner of Israel’s largest telecom corporation in return for favorable coverage on a popular news site. Three of the prime minister’s closest advisers had agreed to testify against him.

Investigations of prime ministers are not rare in Israel. Netanyahu was the subject of one during his first term. The three prime ministers who served in the decade between his first and second terms—Ehud Barak, Ariel Sharon, and Ehud Olmert—had all been investigated as well. Only in Olmert’s case did police deem the evidence sufficient to mount a prosecution. At the time, in 2008, Netanyahu was the leader of the opposition.

“We’re talking about a prime minister who is up to his neck in investigations and has no public or moral mandate to make fateful decisions for Israel,” Netanyahu said of Olmert. “There is a concern, I have to say real, not without basis, that he will make decisions based on his personal interest of political survival and not on the national interest.”

Ten years later, Netanyahu would be the one snared in multiple investigations. Then he no longer spoke of corruption in high office but of a “witch hunt,” orchestrated by rogue police commanders and left-wing state prosecutors, and egged on by a hostile news media, all with the aim of toppling a right-wing leader.

Netanyahu was determined to politicize the legal procedure and pit his supporters against Israel’s law-enforcement agencies and judiciary. Never mind that the two previous prime ministers who had resigned because of corruption charges were from the center left. Nor did it matter that he had appointed the police commissioner and attorney general himself; both were deeply religious men with impeccable nationalist backgrounds, but he tarred them as perfidious tools of leftist conspiracy.

Rather than contemplate resignation, on May 24, 2020, Netanyahu became the first sitting Israeli prime minister to go on trial. He has denied all wrongdoing (the trial is still under way). In a courthouse corridor before one session, he gave a 15-minute televised speech accusing the legal establishment of “trying to topple me and the right-wing government. For over a decade, the left wing have failed to do this at the ballot box, and in recent years have come up with a new idea. Elements in the police and prosecutor’s office have joined left-wing journalists to concoct delusional charges.”

The law didn’t require Netanyahu to resign while fighting the charges against him in court. But doing so had seemed logical to his predecessors under similar circumstances—and to Israel’s lawmakers, who had never envisaged that a prime minister would so brazenly challenge the justice system, which he had a duty to uphold. For Netanyahu, however, remaining in power was an end in itself, one more important than preserving Israel’s most crucial institutions, to say nothing of Israelis’ trust in them.

Netanyahu placed extremists in positions of power, undermined confidence in the rule of law, and sacrificed principle to power. Little wonder, then, that last summer, tensions over the role of Israel’s judiciary became unmanageable. The crisis underlined all of these reasons that Netanyahu should go down as Israel’s worst prime minister.

For 34 of the past 47 years, Israel’s prime ministers have come from the Likud party. And yet many on the right still grumble that “Likud doesn’t know how to rule” and “you vote right and get left.” Likudniks complain about the lingering power of “the elites,” a left-wing minority that loses at the ballot box but still controls the civil service, the upper echelons of the security establishment, the universities, and the media. A growing anti-judicial wing within Likud demands constitutional change and a clamping-down on the supreme court’s “judicial activism.”

Netanyahu had once minimized these complaints, but his stance on the judiciary changed after he was indicted in 2019. Indeed, at the start of his current term, Likud’s partners demanded commitments to constitutional change, which they received. The ultra-Orthodox parties were anxious to pass a law exempting religious seminary students from military service. Such exemptions had already fallen afoul of the supreme court’s equality standards, so the religious parties wanted the law to include a “court bypass.” Netanyahu acceded to this. To pass the legislation in the Knesset, he appointed Simcha Rothman, a staunch critic of the court, as the chair of the Knesset’s Constitution Committee.

He also appointed Yariv Levin, another fierce critic of the court, as justice minister. Just six days after the new government was sworn in, Levin rolled out a “judicial reform” plan, prepared by a conservative think tank, that called for drastically limiting the court’s powers to review legislation and gave politicians control over the appointment of new justices.

Within days, an extremely efficient counter-campaign pointed out the dangers the plan posed, not just to Israel’s fragile and limited democracy, but to its economy and security. Hundreds of thousands of Israelis protested in the streets. Likud began to drop in the polls, and Netanyahu privately urged the leaders of the coalition parties to delay the vote. They refused to back down, and Levin threatened to resign over any delay.

Netanyahu’s motives, unlike those of his partners, were not ideological. His objective was political survival. He needed to keep his hard-won majority intact and the judges off-balance. But the protests were unrelenting. Netanyahu’s independent-minded defense minister, Yoav Gallant, pointed to the controversy’s dire implications for the Israel Defense Forces as hundreds of volunteer reserve officers threatened to suspend their service rather than “serve a dictatorship.”

Netanyahu wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with the judicial coup, but the idea of one of Likud’s senior ministers breaking ranks in public was unthinkable. On March 25 of last year, Gallant made a public statement that the constitutional legislation was a “clear and major threat to the security of Israel” and he would not be voting for it. The next evening, Netanyahu announced that he was firing Gallant.

In Jerusalem, protesters besieged Netanyahu’s home. In Tel Aviv, they blocked main highways. The next morning, the trade unions announced a general strike, and by that evening, Netanyahu backed down, announcing that he was suspending the legislation and would hold talks with the opposition on finding compromises. Gallant kept his post. The talks collapsed, protests started up again, and Netanyahu once again refused to listen to the warnings coming from the security establishment—not only of anger within the IDF, but that Israel’s enemies were planning to take advantage of the country’s disunity to launch an attack.

The debate over judicial reform pitted two visions of Israel against each other. On one side was a liberal and secular Israel that relied on the supreme court to defend its democratic values; on the other, a religious and conservative Israel that feared that unelected judges would impose incompatible ideas on their Jewish values.

Netanyahu’s government made no attempt to reconcile these two visions. The prime minister had spent too many years, and all those toxic electoral campaigns, exploiting and deepening the rift between them. Even when he belatedly and halfheartedly tried to rein in the radical and fundamentalist demons he had ridden back into office, he found that he could no longer control them.

Whether Netanyahu really meant to eviscerate Israel’s supreme court as part of a plot to weaken the judiciary and intimidate the judges in his own case, or whether he had no choice in the matter and was simply a hostage of his own coalition, is immaterial. What matters is that he appointed Levin as justice minister and permitted the crisis to happen. Ultimately, and despite his professed belief in liberal democracy, Netanyahu allowed Levin and his coalition partners to convince him that they were doing the right thing—because whatever kept him in office was right for Israel. Democracy would remain strong because he would remain in charge.

Trying to diminish the powers of the supreme court isn’t what makes Netanyahu Israel’s worst prime minister. The judicial reform failed anyway. Only one of its elements got through the Knesset before the war with Hamas began, and the court struck it down as unconstitutional six months later. The justices’ ruling to preserve their powers, despite the Knesset’s voting to limit them, could have caused a constitutional crisis if it had happened in peacetime. But by then Israel was facing a much bigger crisis.

Given Israel’s history, the ultimate yardstick of its leaders’ success is the security they deliver for their fellow citizens. In 2017, as I was finishing my unauthorized biography of Netanyahu, I commissioned a data analyst to calculate the average annual casualty rate (Israeli civilians and soldiers) of each prime minister since 1948. The results confirmed what I had already assumed. In the 11 years that Netanyahu had by then been prime minister, the average annual number of Israelis killed in war and terror attacks was lower, by a considerable margin, than under any previous prime minister.

My book on Netanyahu was not admiring. But I felt that it was only fair to include that data point in his favor in the epilogue and the very last footnote. Likud went on to use it in its 2019 campaigns without attributing the source.

The numbers were hard to argue with. Netanyahu was a hard-line prime minister who had done everything in his power to derail the Oslo peace process and prevent any move toward compromise with the Palestinians. Throughout much of his career, he encouraged military action by the West, first against Iraq after 9/11, and then against Iran. But in his years as prime minister, he balked at initiating or being dragged into wars of his own. His risk aversion and preference for covert operations or air strikes rather than ground operations had, in his first two stretches in power, from 1996 to 1999 and 2009 to 2021, kept Israelis relatively safe.

Netanyahu supporters on the right could also argue, on basis of the numbers, that those who brought bloodshed upon Israel, in the form of Palestinian suicide bombings and rocket attacks, were actually Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres, the architects of the Oslo Accords; Ehud Barak, with his rash attempts to bring peace; and Ariel Sharon, who withdrew Israeli soldiers and settlers unilaterally from Gaza in 2005, creating the conditions for Hamas’s electoral victory there the following year. That argument no longer holds.

If future biographers of Israeli prime ministers undertake a similar analysis, Netanyahu will no longer be able to claim the lowest casualty rate. His 16th year in office, 2023, was the third-bloodiest in Israel’s history, surpassed only by 1948 and 1973, Israel’s first year of independence and the year of the Yom Kippur War, respectively.

The first nine months of 2023 had already seen a rise in deadly violence in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, as well as terrorist attacks within Israel’s borders. Then came the Hamas attack on October 7, in which at least 1,145 Israelis were massacred and 253 kidnapped and taken to Gaza. More than 30 hostages are now confirmed dead.

No matter how the war in Gaza ends, what happens in its aftermath, or when Netanyahu’s term finally ends, the prime minister will forever be associated above all with that day and the disastrous war that followed. He will go down as the worst prime minister because he has been catastrophic for Israeli security.

To understand how Netanyahu so drastically failed Israel’s security requires going back at least to 2015, the year his long-term strategic bungling of the Iranian threat came into view. His mishandling didn’t happen in isolation; it is also related to the deprioritization of other threats, including the catastrophe that materialized on October 7.

Netanyahu flew to Washington, D.C., in 2015 to implore U.S. lawmakers to obstruct President Barack Obama’s nuclear deal with Iran. Many view this gambit as extraordinarily damaging to Israel’s most crucial alliance—the relationship with the United States is the very bulwark of its security. Perhaps so; but the stunt didn’t make subsequent U.S. administrations less supportive of Israel. Even Obama would still go on to sign the largest 10-year package of military aid to Israel the year after Netanyahu’s speech. Rather, the damage Netanyahu caused by presuming too much of the United States wasn’t to the relationship, but to Israel itself.

Netanyahu’s strategy regarding Iran was based on his assumption that America would one day launch an attack on Iran’s nuclear program. We know this from his 2022 book, Bibi: My Story, in which he admits to arguing repeatedly with Obama “for an American strike on Iran’s nuclear facilities.” Senior Israeli officials have confirmed that he expected Donald Trump to launch such a strike as well. In fact, Netanyahu was so sure that Trump, unlike Obama, would give the order that he had no strategy in place for dealing with Iran’s nuclear program when Trump decided, at Netanyahu’s own urging, to withdraw from the Iran deal in May 2018.

Israel’s military and intelligence chiefs had been far from enamored with the Iran deal, but they’d seized the opportunity it presented to divert some of the intelligence resources that had been focused on Iran’s nuclear program to other threats, particularly Tehran’s network of proxies across the region. They were caught by surprise when the Trump administration ditched the Iran deal (Netanyahu knew it was coming but didn’t inform them). This unilateral withdrawal effectively removed the limitations on Iran’s nuclear development and required an abrupt reversal of Israeli priorities.

Senior Israeli officials I spoke with had to tread a wary path here. Those who were still in active service couldn’t challenge the prime minister’s strategy directly. But in private some were scathing about the lack of a coherent strategy on Iran. “It takes years to build intelligence capabilities. You can’t just change target priorities overnight,” one told me.

The result was a dissipation of Israeli efforts to stop Iran—which is committed to the destruction of Israel. Iran sped further than ever down the path of uranium enrichment, and its proxies, including the Houthis in Yemen and Hezbollah on Israel’s northern border, grew ever more powerful.

In the months leading up to October 7, Israel’s intelligence community repeatedly warned Netanyahu that Iran and its proxies were plotting a major attack within Israel, though few envisaged something on the scale of October 7. By the fall of 2023, motives were legion: fear that an imminent Israeli diplomatic breakthrough with Saudi Arabia could change the geopolitics of the region; threats that Ben-Gvir would allow Jews greater access to the al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem and worsen conditions for Palestinian prisoners; rumors that the deepening tensions within Israeli society would render any response to an attack slow and disjointed.

Netanyahu chose to ignore the warnings. The senior officers and intelligence chiefs who issued them were, to his mind, conspiring with the law-enforcement agencies and legal establishment that had put him on trial and were trying to obstruct his government’s legislation. None of them had his experience and knowledge of the real threats facing Israel. Hadn’t he been right in the past when he’d refused to listen to leftist officials and so-called experts?

Hamas’s surprise attack on October 7 was the result of a colossal failure at all levels of Israel’s security and intelligence community. They had all seen the warning signals but continued to believe that the main threat came from Hezbollah, the larger and far better-equipped and trained enemy to the north. Israel’s security establishment believed that Hamas was isolated in Gaza, and that it and the other Palestinian organizations had been effectively deterred from attacking Israel.

Netanyahu was the originator of this assumption, and its biggest proponent. He believed that keeping Hamas in power in Gaza, as it had been for nearly two years when he returned to office in 2009, was in Israel’s interest. Periodic rocket attacks on Israeli communities in the south were a price worth paying to keep the Palestinian movement split between the Fatah-dominated Palestinian Authority in the West Bank enclaves and Hamas in Gaza. Such division would push the troublesome two-state solution off the global agenda and allow Israel to focus on regional alliances with like-minded Arab autocracies that also feared Iran. The Palestinian issue would sink into irrelevance.

Netanyahu’s disastrous strategy regarding Gaza and Hamas is part of what makes him Israel’s worst prime minister, but it’s not the only factor. Previous Israeli prime ministers, too, blundered into bloody wars on the basis of misguided strategies and faulty advice from their military and intelligence advisers.

Netanyahu stands out from them for his refusal to accept responsibility, and for his political machinations and smear campaigns since October 7. He blames IDF generals and nourishes the conspiracy theory that they, in alliance with the protest movement, somehow allowed October 7 to happen.

Netanyahu believes that he is the ultimate victim of that tragic day. Convinced by his own campaign slogans, he argues that he is the only one who can deliver Israel from this valley of shadows to the sunlit uplands of “total victory.” He refuses to consider any advice about ending the war and continues to prioritize preserving his coalition, because he appears incapable of distinguishing between his own fate, now tainted by tragic failure, and that of Israel.

Many around the world assume that Israel’s war with Hamas has proceeded according to some plan of Netanyahu’s. This is a mistake. Netanyahu has the last word as prime minister and head of the emergency war cabinet, but he has used his power mainly to prevaricate, procrastinate, and obstruct. He delayed the initial ground offensive into Gaza, hesitated for weeks over the first truce and hostage-release agreement in November, and is now doing the same over another such deal with Hamas. For the past six months, he has prevented any meaningful cabinet discussion of Israel’s strategic goals. He has rejected the proposals of his own security establishment and the Biden administration. He presented vague principles for “the day after Hamas” to the cabinet only in late February, and they have yet to be debated.

However one views the war in Gaza—as a justified war of defense in which Hamas is responsible for the civilian casualties it has cynically hidden behind, or as an intentional genocide of the Palestinian people, or as anything in between—none of it is Netanyahu’s plan. That’s because Netanyahu has no plan for Gaza, only one for remaining in power. His obstructionism, his showdowns with generals, his confrontations with the Biden administration—all are focused on that end, which means preserving his far-right coalition and playing to his hard-core nationalist base.

Meanwhile, he’s doing what he has always done: wearing down and discrediting his political opponents in the hope of proving to an exhausted and traumatized public that he’s the only alternative. So far, he’s failing. Polls show that an overwhelming majority of Israelis want him gone. But Netanyahu is fending off calls to hold an early election until he believes he is within striking distance of winning.

Netanyahu’s ambition has consumed both him and Israel. To regain and remain in office, he has sacrificed his own authority and parceled out power to the most extreme politicians. Since his reelection in 2022, Netanyahu is no longer the center of power but a vacuum, a black hole that has engulfed all of Israel’s political energy. His weakness has given the far right and religious fundamentalists extraordinary control over Israel’s affairs, while other segments of the population are left to pursue the never-ending quest to end his reign.

One man’s pursuit of power has diverted Israel from confronting its most urgent priorities: the threat from Iran, the conflict with the Palestinians, the desire to nurture a Westernized society and economy in the most contested corner of the Middle East, the internal contradictions between democracy and religion, the clash between tribal phobias and high-tech hopes. Netanyahu’s obsession with his own destiny as Israel’s protector has caused his country grievous damage.

Most Israelis already realize that Netanyahu is the worst of the 14 prime ministers their country has had in its 76 years of independence. But in the future, Jews might even remember him as the leader who inflicted the most harm on his people since the squabbling Hasmonean kings brought civil war and Roman occupation to Judea nearly 21 centuries ago. As long as he remains in power, he could yet surpass them.

[foolishlovers]

hiii!!! do u have any recs for long AUs??? thank you! :]

of course, i love long good omens AUs, here are some of my favourites:

[you can request more fic recs here.]

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

Fifty-Two Blue by bendycello (M, 84k) It would be a gross understatement to say that Crowley simply didn't like Aziraphale. He was posh and stuffy and arrogant, and Crowley couldn't figure out why everyone else in the program liked him so much. It hardly mattered; they were competitors, and Crowley didn't need to make friends to become a surgeon. It takes several unleasant encounters, the excessive use of house plants as a coping mechanism, and getting stuck in an elevator for Crowley to start reconsidering his priorities. Or… Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do.

Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth (E, 87k) “Then you’ll just have to come back with me," Aziraphale said. “You what?” “You’ll have to come and isolate with me, at my cottage.” The thing about messing with people, Crowley thought, was that sometimes, they genuinely surprised you. After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.

Slow Show by mia_ugly (E, 95k) In which temptations are accomplished, grand romantic gestures are made, and two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side (at last, at last.)

Car Trouble by summerofspock (E, 102k) Aziraphale's car breaks down so he takes it to the first mechanic he can find. From there, his mundane life changes drastically as he finds himself befriending the man fixing his car.

on the same page by Chekhov (E, 117k) Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less… appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is… until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T, 146k) “Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

Old Vines by sevdrag (E, 189k) A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison (E, 213k) The important thing, Crowley tells himself -- the most important thing -- is Adam, his brilliant, creative, empathetic nephew. Being fourteen's hard enough; the kid didn't ask to deal with the weight of the world on top of it. And if taking care of Adam means Crowley has to tough it out at a job he can’t stand, so be it. And if Crowley's job means that Adam’s charming English teacher is NOT a romantic possibility, well, that's just how things go. But the occasional drink with Aziraphale proves hard to resist. They frequent the same pub, so who can object to them saying hello? Briefly sharing a table? Perhaps a little conversation? The painful knowledge that it can’t be anything more -- not without somebody getting fired or sued or both -- well, that can't be helped. Until Crowley stumbles onto a terribly reckless idea…

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive (Daily news updates! Many can't/don't make it to Tumblr! Check it out!)

Just wanted to add a quick note: The author states that vaccination helps to prevent long covid. This is a bit of an overstatement: There is a correlation with vaccination and a small reduction in long covid diagnosis (about 30% in one study, less in others). This is a real sticking point for me, because recent studies have also shown that 1. by their own admission in surveys, doctors don't know how to diagnose long covid 2. long covid diagnosis is expensive 3. you can have long covid without a diagnosis 4. there still isn't a standard terminology or diagnostic criteria for long covid, and this has caused issue among general practitioners especially. Vaccination is best at keeping you from developing life-threatening symptoms if/when you get covid. The only way to truly prevent long covid is to not contract covid, especially if you've already been infected. Mask up. Clean the air. Avoid risky behaviors. That's real long covid prevention.

By Pandora Dewan

While nationwide COVID-19 cases have dwindled in recent weeks, wastewater detections of the virus still remain "very high" in certain states.

Newsweek have revealed this variability in a map based on data from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

As of October 5, the overall viral activity level in wastewater across the country has been demoted from "moderate" to "low," although "very high" levels are still being detected in two states. A further 14 states have "high" wastewater detection levels, with seven detecting "moderate" levels and 15 classified as "low."

Eight states, including D.C., are now reporting "minimal" detection levels, the lowest classification in the CDC's system.

After a surge in COVID cases this summer, infection rates seem to be on the decline. As of October 5, positive results account for only 7.7 percent of all tests (excluding at-home testing) in the U.S., down 0.8 percent from the previous week. However, coronavirus levels do remain high in certain states, especially in the Northwest.

The map below shows which states have seen the highest detections in wastewater. (Follow the link to see the interactive map!)

Viral levels in wastewater are a helpful indicator of disease prevalence within a population.

Recent spikes in COVID cases have been largely driven by a new class of subvariants nicknamed FLiRT after the position of the mutations on the virus' spike proteins, the projections that allow them to enter our cells.

These proteins are also used as targets by immune systems and vaccinations, so changes in their structure can allow the virus to bypass the body's defenses more easily. However, existing vaccines are likely to provide at least some form of protection against more severe symptoms and long COVID.

As of October 12, the now dominant subvariant, KP.3.1.1, accounted for more than 57 percent of all U.S. COVID-19 cases over the previous two weeks, according to the CDC, with the FLiRT variants accounting for more than two thirds of cases in total.

However, while the U.S.saw a steady rise in infections over the summer, hospitalizations and deaths have remained relatively low. It appears that the new FLiRT variants, while more infectious, do not generally cause such severe symptoms.

The symptoms include the following, according to the CDC:

Fever or chills Cough Shortness of breath Fatigue Muscle or body aches Headache Loss of taste or smell Sore throat Runny nose Nausea or vomiting Diarrhea More vulnerable individuals may still be at risk of severe illness, so it is important to self-isolate if you receive a positive COVID test.

[acquariusgb]

When Covid was raging in New York, Hillary and I were at home, with Chelsea, Marc, and our three grandkids next door in our guesthouse. Our Clinton Foundation staff all worked from home, keeping our projects going, including helping the faith leaders involved in our opioid alliance encourage their members to follow safe practices through worship and in daily life. [...] In spite of Covid’s terrible toll, it was a blessing for Hillary and me in some ways. I loved having our family so close. It was such a kick to have then six-year-old Charlotte and four-year-old Aidan barge into the house and insist that Hillary and I stop whatever we were doing and play their favorite games, read books, or be characters in the plays they created. Seven-month-old Jasper happily observed the chaos. I spent time exploring the internet—the magnificent music, the comedy routines, the humorous video clips, memes, and photos. (Did you see the guy singing “Don’t Be Cruel” to two white cockatoos perched on a couch and rocking along to the music? Or the man out west who gives a ride in the backseat of his old convertible to a buffalo?) Hillary and I finally got into the streaming craze,spending Valentine’s Day 2021 binge-watching Bridgerton all night long. We later binged Ted Lasso in smaller bites. [...] In ways I still don’t fully understand, the coronavirus and its stay-at-home imperative and the uprising changed me, and I suspect, you, too, especially in where and how we work and how much time we spend with family and friends. I laughed at the internet, then cried as I called friends who lost a spouse, a brother, parents. I worried with the people I work with and other friends, praying their infected family members would recover. Yet I became more hopeful that—in our shared grief and worry, in our shared cheering for the bravery and devotion of those on the front lines who often don’t ook like us, in our shared laughter that makes the awful bearable, in our collective efforts to survive in a crippled economy, and in the outpouring of support for Floyd’s family and for others whose loved ones were killed while being stopped, chased, or arrested, and for the idea that Black lives do matter—we might be recovering a sense of our common humanity, humility, and gratitude. The jury’s still out on that. It could have the reverse effect, making too many of us even more determined to withdraw from each other and the rest of the world.

Citizen- My Life after the White House - Bill Clinton

[good-old-gossip]

“I never imagined I would give birth to my first child away from home and surrounded by air strikes,” Israa, a young mother in Gaza told Middle East Eye. Soon after giving birth, Israa said, her family was forced to share a small room with over 17 people, which led to Israa catching the coronavirus, which was then passed on to her newborn. “Instead of embracing my little child, I had to leave him in the incubator, looking at him far from the window for almost two weeks. Those were the worst days in my whole life.” Displaced Palestinians are also being squeezed into ever-tighter areas of the tiny coastal enclave, prompting outbreaks of illness and disease, to which malnourished children are particularly vulnerable. With Palestinians enduring increasingly dire conditions, the most basic of acts for new parents, such as changing a child’s nappy, have become a luxury, with many mothers and carers resorting to using cloth diapers. Safe pregnancies and births have become entirely unfeasible in Gaza due to incessant Israeli bombing. In December, just three months into the conflict, the International Rescue Committee said there were at least 155,000 pregnant or breast-feeding mothers in Gaza who were at high risk of malnutrition.

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