#Vulnerability Reopen Rate

[blacklocksecuritynz]

What Are Top 3 Vulnerability Management Metrics to Measure in 2025

In today’s rapidly evolving cybersecurity landscape, staying ahead of potential threats is essential. Companies face a relentless onslaught of security vulnerabilities, and effectively managing these vulnerabilities has become critical for safeguarding data and maintaining regulatory compliance. One of the primary methods to assess the security posture of any organization is through vulnerability management and penetration testing. In 2024, certain key metrics have emerged as essential for effectively managing vulnerabilities, aiding businesses in minimizing risks while optimizing their security strategy.

This article will explore the top three vulnerability management metrics to measure in 2024, focusing on their significance in shaping a robust security program, and highlighting how penetration testing plays an integral role.

1. Vulnerability Detection Rate

The Vulnerability Detection Rate is a metric that reflects how effectively your organization identifies security vulnerabilities within its IT infrastructure. A higher detection rate indicates that the organization has robust tools and processes in place for continuous monitoring and assessment, which is crucial for early-stage vulnerability management.

Why It Matters: In 2024, the growing sophistication of cyber threats makes the Vulnerability Detection Rate a key performance indicator (KPI) for cybersecurity teams. An accurate and high detection rate allows teams to discover potential vulnerabilities before they are exploited. It also helps organizations quantify the effectiveness of their scanning tools, Vulnerability Scanning protocols, and penetration testing procedures.

How to Measure It: The Vulnerability Detection Rate is typically calculated by dividing the number of detected vulnerabilities by the total vulnerabilities present, which can be estimated based on past data and testing results. Organizations should strive for real-time detection capabilities using tools that integrate vulnerability management with penetration testing solutions. This hybrid approach allows for both automated and manual detection of weaknesses across endpoints, applications, and networks.

Penetration Testing's Role: Penetration testing acts as a simulated attack on the system, testing the detection capabilities of an organization. Conducting regular penetration tests helps verify that vulnerabilities are detected accurately and promptly, which can reveal any gaps in detection mechanisms. A comprehensive penetration test offers insights into vulnerabilities that automated tools may overlook, helping cybersecurity teams to refine their detection tools and strategies.

2. Mean Time to Remediation (MTTR)

Mean Time to Remediation (MTTR) is a crucial metric for understanding the efficiency of an organization’s response to identified vulnerabilities. MTTR calculates the average time taken to fix a vulnerability after its detection. Keeping this metric low is essential for preventing the exploitation of vulnerabilities and ensuring that identified threats do not remain in the system long enough to cause harm.

Why It Matters: The faster an organization remediates a vulnerability, the less time attackers have to exploit it. With the increasing rate of zero-day vulnerabilities in 2024, cybersecurity teams must act quickly once vulnerabilities are identified. A short MTTR not only indicates an agile response capability but also helps in meeting regulatory requirements and reducing potential financial or reputational damage.

How to Measure It: To measure MTTR, calculate the time between when a vulnerability is identified and when it is resolved. Divide the total remediation time across all vulnerabilities by the number of resolved vulnerabilities within a specific timeframe. It is best practice to track MTTR by severity level (e.g., high, medium, low), as high-risk vulnerabilities should generally have a shorter MTTR than low-risk ones.

Penetration Testing's Role: Penetration testing supports MTTR by identifying specific weaknesses in systems and applications, thereby guiding prioritized remediation efforts. It helps highlight vulnerabilities that pose the greatest risk, allowing teams to allocate resources effectively and improve response times. When Penetration Testing is conducted regularly, it can also reveal recurring vulnerabilities, helping teams streamline their remediation processes and reduce MTTR.

3. Vulnerability Reopen Rate

The Vulnerability Reopen Rate metric measures the frequency at which previously remediated vulnerabilities reappear, indicating that previous fixes may have been insufficient or temporary. A high reopen rate suggests that there are issues within the patch management or remediation processes, or that vulnerabilities have returned due to configuration changes, software updates, or inadequate fixes.

Why It Matters: In 2024, complex infrastructures and third-party dependencies mean that vulnerabilities can recur due to software updates or overlooked configurations. A high Vulnerability Reopen Rate can indicate a need for improved patching practices, better configuration management, or more thorough penetration testing to verify that vulnerabilities are completely resolved. Reducing the reopen rate not only boosts security posture but also conserves resources by minimizing repetitive work for security teams.

How to Measure It: Calculate the Vulnerability Reopen Rate by dividing the number of vulnerabilities that have reappeared after initial remediation by the total number of vulnerabilities resolved over a given period. Tracking this metric over time helps organizations understand the consistency and effectiveness of their remediation efforts.

Penetration Testing's Role: Penetration testing is critical in validating that vulnerabilities have been properly remediated. After a vulnerability is patched or mitigated, conducting a follow-up penetration test ensures that the issue has been fully addressed. This practice not only helps to keep the Vulnerability Reopen Rate low but also verifies that patches have not inadvertently created new vulnerabilities. Regular penetration tests are instrumental in keeping this metric under control by providing an extra layer of verification and reducing the chances of vulnerability reoccurrence.

The Role of Penetration Testing in Vulnerability Management Metrics

Incorporating penetration testing into vulnerability management goes beyond simply identifying security gaps; it enhances the entire vulnerability management process. Penetration testing, when conducted consistently, provides a real-world perspective on the security posture of an organization, helping cybersecurity teams to accurately assess and improve each metric. Here’s how:

Improving Detection Accuracy: Penetration testing helps assess the accuracy and coverage of detection tools, enabling organizations to fine-tune their scanning and monitoring systems.

Prioritizing Remediation Efforts: By highlighting high-risk vulnerabilities, penetration tests help in prioritizing and reducing MTTR, as they show which areas need immediate attention and streamline the remediation process.

Ensuring Lasting Remediation: Penetration testing verifies that vulnerabilities have been remediated effectively, which in turn helps in maintaining a low Vulnerability Reopen Rate.

Conclusion

In 2024, vulnerability management metrics like Vulnerability Detection Rate, Mean Time to Remediation (MTTR), and Vulnerability Reopen Rate will be pivotal in measuring and improving an organization’s cybersecurity resilience. Penetration testing plays an indispensable role in supporting these metrics, offering a comprehensive approach to identifying, prioritizing, and validating remediation efforts. By focusing on these metrics and integrating regular penetration testing, organizations can bolster their security posture and reduce their risk of cyber-attacks. Emphasizing these metrics helps companies build a proactive and effective vulnerability management strategy, making 2024 a year of fortified defenses against an evolving threat landscape.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How about something about being a very soft and feminine person, strong independent in their own way, with Mizu. I like to think she is joins the party and acts as the “woman” for the group, and she just genuinely is a good person. I just want to see Mizu with someone who just cares about them.

This was way too long and whatever else you wanna call it.

‘You’ll die.’ Mizu puts bluntly.

‘I don’t care. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.’ You shrugged, mind made up as you already have packed your essentials for the departure overnight.

Mizu closed their eyes, sighing deeply through the nose before opening their eyes once more to look directly at you with their usual stare. ‘I won’t be held responsible if you were killed unawares.’ They said but the fire of excitement and adventure within your eyes hasn’t faltered once.

Mizu can only wonder how they attract people of similar natures in one way or the other to trail after them like a little horde of stubborn ducklings; A question they’ll couldn’t quite find the answer for.

You have been prone to leave Mizu perplexed since your first met after healing them of their wounds after a particularly heinous fight. Your soft touches and kind encouraging words brought about uncertain feelings within Mizu. Making them feel as though they have somehow ventured off into unfamiliar territory, immediately sending them to act out in self defensive tactics.

Constantly looking over their shoulder, hand clutching at the hilt of their sword, ears and eyes honing in on every snaps of branches and the rustling of bushes, waiting for a potential ambushes or ransacking attempts. Anything that would put their life in any and all levels of risk.

Mizu found themself in a battlefield they weren’t well versed in whenever your face shone with a bright smile upon seeing them in the mornings, presenting them with the clothes they’ve entrusted to you to sew up the worn and torn fabric, seeing as how only you were the one with the tools and the experience for the job. Or how you would often help fix up breakfast for everyone but always end up making yours last, when Mizu asked about this, you just shrugged and told them that you’d rather survive off of scraps if it meant others having full, warm and satisfied bellies.

Mizu only scoffs at this, not thinking too much into your words, but their sharp eyes would immeditly notice the difference in the amount of food you gave them before looking at your own proportions; which was enough to satiate your hunger for the time being but it was obvious that you gave larger portions of food to them. Their eyes would soften somewhat at the gesture, knowing that your words were more than just words, only to harden afterwards when catching you given them frequent side glances.

You would also patch up reopened words that were in harder to reach for Mizu or Tiagen to get to by themselves , much to Mizu’s dismay at the thought of being in such a vulnerable and open position for sabotage. However under your watchful eye, Mizu had learnt over a long period of time to put their trust into you and your seemingly never ending well of talents.

‘Stop doing stuff that’ll only reopen your wounds,’ you scolded, finishing sealing up the last of Mizu’s wounds with a final stitch. ‘I’m staring to run out of thread and alcohol to disinfect the needle with the rate you and Taigen are going at!’ You added, putting your hands on your hips like a disappointed parent.

‘If it displeases you so much to waste resources, then why bother healing me in the first place.’ Mizu responded straightforwardly as they slowly refitted their clothing on their body whilst trying not to reopen any wounds as to not waste the effort you put into putting them back together again. You huffed, knowing that Mizu was still a little on edge with you and the kindness you went out of your way to give them.

You didn’t blame them for being the way they were and only accepted this as their way of acting the only way they knew how and went to sit down next to them, remembering to keep some distance for keep Mizu from unwarranted contact. ‘It’s not the resources that I’m worried about. It’s you.’ You admitted, seeing Mizu look at you from the corner of your eye, looking as though they weren’t expecting that type of response to come from your mouth. That reaction only hurt your heart knowing that a concerning about of people lacked empathy towards their fellow man. It genuinely disgusted you at how easy it was for them to show you their back the moment you’ve outgrown your usage.

‘Me? Why?’ Mizu asked.

You chuckled humourlessly. ‘Is it a sin for me to be concerned about you? To worry about you whenever you come back from where ever you wander off to, suddenly unable to stand on your own two feet without collapsing from immense blood loss?’ Mizu reminded silent and so you took that as a sign to continue. ‘Am I expected to just stand there and not do anything? I’m sorry but I’d rather wast every resource I own on you because if it meant bettering your chances of survival, even if by a margin, then I’d do anything to make that possibility into a guarantee.’ You finished with a smile before getting up to your feet and leaving the room to give Mizu privacy and time to process your words.

Meanwhile Mizu was back to feeling those foreign emotions. They weren’t use to someone caring for them to the extent that you did, not without wanting something in exchange but Mizu noticed that you haven’t even once asked for anything in return for making them breakfast, sewing up their clothes, gifting them sharping stones for their sword nor patching up their wounds. All you did was take care of them and their every needs, so much so that they felt a weird warm within their chest at the memory of your bright smile that you gave them after everything.

You were sweet and soft but strong, firm in your beliefs and posses a strong independence. A true diamond in the rough in regard to everything they’ve bore witness to since childhood. Your attitude towards them was an extreme contrast to everyone else’s, it often caught Mizu off guard in the odd occasion but it wasn’t until now did Mizu come to realised how much their body ached to be tended and cared for by someone like you. They’ve persevered through the hardships they’re forced to call life and bore the scars of said hardships in a multitude of places upon their body, both new and old.

Mizu was use to being alone but now that you entered their life, they were starting to think that they don’t wanna be alone anymore but was a tad hesitant to make the first move on their own accord. If Mizu was grateful for one thing in life, it was the fact that you were in it and by their side for the indefinite future.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Flowers

Based off the song by Miley Cyrus

AN: the wait is finally over!

Synopsis: You have been in a committed relationship with Jack for over a year, but since the two of you have released this information to the world, your jealous ex can't help but to wonder if you can find it in your heart to give him a second chance

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader, Former Joe Burrow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was becoming light outside when you were awakened by Jack placing several kisses all over your face and a smile couldn't help but to break out as you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Good morning my beautiful fiancée.” You heard him say and listened to his morning voice that you loved so much.

“Good morning my love.”

“What do you have planned for today?” He asked as he proceeded to lay on his back as you moved so that your head was on his chest as he started to draw small circles along your back.

“I have a fitting with Margot Robbie and that’s about it. I might go out with Briana, Emma, and Naomi later if I'm feeling up to it. What about you?” You asked as you reached up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Probably just go to the studio, I shouldn’t be gone long. I have some things I want to work on.”

His answer immediately led to you rolling your eyes and you stifled a laugh as Jack looked at you curiously.

“What? What was that for?"

“Now you know good and well that when you say you’ll be at the studio and won’t be gone long that it really means 3 am and for me not to wait up for you.”

“Babe! I promise it won’t be 3 am this time! I was in the zone and didn’t want to mess that up.”

“I get it, I get it. But if this happens tonight, please tell me and not have me worrying about you. Last time you almost gave me a heart attack thinking that something was wrong.”

“I’m sorry and I promise to. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again. I… know how your trust issues are. I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me and I don’t want to start now.”

“I love you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek making him smile.

“I love you too.” Jack swiftly answered as he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m about to go get ready, you want to join me?”

“As tempting as that sounds, you know for a fact that you won’t make it to the studio any time soon. And you getting back at 3 am will probably be 5 am."

“I-... good point.”

“I’ll probably just go back to sleep, the fitting isn’t until later anyway.”

"Oh, I wore you out last night?" He asked while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Don't start."

"What? I was just asking!"

"Bye, Jackman and go get ready." You replied while laughing and lightly pushed him so he could get up.

Jack simply nodded as he moved from behind you and got up to make his way into the bathroom.

"Don't worry, you'll get this work later." You heard him yell from the bathroom and you immediately rolled your eyes as you let out a small laugh.

You had grabbed your phone off of the nightstand and you were completely caught off guard from one of your notifications from instagram.

1 New Message

Joeyb_9: Y/N, can we meet up and talk? I miss you

You felt your anxiety as well as your heart rate increase as you read the message. There was no way in the world that you were going to reopen a wound that you had healed from.

After the intense break up from your superstar NFL boyfriend, Joe Burrow, you swore that you would never put yourself in such a vulnerable position again.

The cheating, the lying, him sneaking behind your back was a thing of the past and you didn't plan on going back.

So, he had another thing coming if he thought that you were ever going to give him the time of day.

One thing that he always did every week was buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers no matter if you were with him or not. You soon came to the conclusion that you could buy yourself your own flowers and didn't need a man to do that after seeing how he acted towards you.

Especially one that stopped buying them for you after the first year of your relationship and only bought you them with an expensive piece of jewelry because he had cheated again and would do anything in order for you to take him back.

"Baby, it won't happen again, I promise."

So you did give him another chance and once again he blew it. You should have learned your lesson the first time, but Joe being a sweet talker reeled you back in.

You blocked his number, blocked him on social media, and made sure that he gave you back your key to your condo.

A condo that he had bought but at this rate, you deserved to keep it.

You were content with being the rich auntie who got to travel the world and would bring back expensive gifts for everyone while dressing celebrities in your latest designs.

That was until you were asked to style your now fiancé Jack Harlow for The Grammys in 2022. The first time the two of you met, it was as if there was no one else in the room since your eyes never left each other.

You had heard of him and was quite a big fan, so obviously you were excited. Being Joe Burrow's girlfriend did have its perks. Once he got to the NFL and he knew how you wanted to be a designer, you would style him for events and that moved to his teammates, their significant others, and then onto other celebrities.

Jack had heard of you since you had styled Drake for an event before and he had highly recommended you. He took him up on his suggestion and soon found himself the woman that he wanted to marry.

It was hard to break into this industry and the one thing you could thank Joe for was helping you do it. You wanted to not be seen just as his girlfriend and known for your work so your relationship was kept low key. This made it easier for when you did break off things with him not having people follow your every move.

Except, Joe did follow your every move waiting for the right opportunity to present itself so that he could work his magic and his charm on you in the hopes of winning you back.

However, you weren't falling for this shit again because you had moved on and found someone ten times better.

You recalled the last time he had cheated and presented you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers which you immediately grabbed and put it in the trash can as he watched the scene unfold in front of him and told him that you didn’t need a man for shit including buying you flowers. That was the last time you had talked to him and it was over two years ago.

From that point on, you bought your favorite flowers for yourself and once Jack caught on to this, he quickly took over once he had heard your reasoning behind it.

You remember him telling you that you deserved to get as many flowers as you want from someone who loves and appreciates you and you remember your breath hitching in your throat. That was the first time that he told you that he loved you and has kept his word ever since.

What you didn't plan on was becoming Jack's girlfriend and now fiancée and Joe getting the sudden realization that he wanted you back.

All because you and Jack had gone public with your relationship not even 72 hours ago and you had a feeling that he saw it. The two of you had kept it quiet for the entire time that you had been dating, but once he put that huge ass ring on your finger, you wanted to share it with the world.

You had only blocked him from your personal account and not the one for your fashion line so of course that came with you muttering "Fuck" under your breath and shaking your head.

Jack had come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and had heard you so he was immediately concerned.

"Baby? You okay?"

"Um… "

"What's wrong?"

Not wanting to hide anything from Jack, you quickly shoved your phone into his hand showing him the message and his eyebrows furrowed and he looked confused.

"Why is Joe Burrow sending you messages on instagram?"

"Remember that ex who cheated on me multiple times but still expected me to take him back?"

"Don't tell me…." Jack said as he looked back up at you.

"That's him."

"And it's his fucking loss. You're mine now so he can go throw footballs and fuck off somewhere."

Jack handed you back your phone and you immediately blocked him, not even bothering to respond. He should have known better, you finally had someone who respected and cared for you and you for damn sure wasn't going to go back to him.

"He better get the message loud and clear too. No one told him to treat you like shit. Why did you never mention that it was him?"

"I'd rather not dwell on him treating me like that when I have someone that is a million times better in front of me." You said being completely honest and Jack simply smiled at you before leaning down to kiss you.

"This is forever and I don't give a fuck who doesn't like it or who doesn't agree. You're mine and I'm yours. Besides, can he fight?"

"I-... Jack he is a little taller than you and the most he could probably do is try to throw a dumbbell to hit you."

"Oh, so I have a chance to take him?"

"Well….. um…. you're my future husband and I'm going to stick beside you."

"In other words, no and you'll still love me even if he kicks my ass?"

"Correct, babe. But… he can't fight either."

"Woooooooow, zero confidence in me." Jack responded while shaking his head at you while you were trying not to laugh.

"Did I tell you that I love you and that I'll bring you food later at the studio?" You replied while batting your eyelashes at him.

"Don't try and butter me up now."

"Well I'll tell you again. I love you, baby. Now go get dressed."

"I might have to skip the studio and add an extra gym day instead. How much can he bench press?"

Before going to the fitting with Margot, you cleaned up around your shared house with Jack in the hopes of getting what had happened this morning out of your head. He had the absolute nerve to think that you would even give him the time of day.

You quickly sent a message to your three best friends Briana, Emma, and Naomi telling them you wanted to meet for a late lunch after the fitting and if they were free.

All three of them quickly said yes and you couldn't wait to tell them what Joe had pulled. Next thing you know Ja'Marr was about to be in your DM's and you would simply tell him to fuck off since he knew what Joe was doing behind your back, but would simply smile in your face and act like nothing was happening. He got cut off right along with him when you finally decided to do it.

There all four of you were sharing a plate of fried calamari and you had just finished telling them what had happened earlier that morning.

"Ew, are you serious? He has got some fucking nerve." Emma said before taking a sip of her drink and looking at you in disbelief.

"Same thing I said."

"Did you tell Jack?"

"Of course I did. The last thing I ever want to do is keep something from him." You replied while dipping your piece of calamari in the sauce that it came with.

"Well maybe you should hear him out." The entire table had gone silent as all of you looked over at Briana in disbelief.

"Uh? Come again?" Naomi was the first person to break the silence.

"Just hear what he has to say." She replied while shrugging and you simply rolled your eyes.

"So she's supposed to listen to the person who cheated on her multiple times and still did it after she forgave him?" Emma asked while not believing what she was hearing.

"Maybe he's changed."

"I highly doubt it and why would I even entertain this when I have an amazing fiancé who treats me like I'm supposed to be treated? Bri, since you want to hear him out so bad you go and give him a chance."

"I was just saying that maybe you should keep your options open."

"Girl, what the hell is wrong with you today? Where is the Briana that wanted to fight Joe every time this happened and would beg me to leave him?" You asked as you looked at her confused.

"I just think it couldn't hurt."

"Well if I ever decide to do it, I'm bringing Jack with me."

"Okay moving on. So, do we have a wedding date? Venue? Flowers? Maid of honor?" Naomi asked as she batted her eyelashes and was grilling you left and right while all you could do was laugh.

"We literally just got engaged this week!" You answered while smiling at her.

"And is that supposed to mean something?! We all knew from the first time you two met that this would be forever. I'm just so happy for you and Jack is the entire package. I love the way he loves you. You deserve this after how that asshole treated you. But just let Jack know if he steps a toe out of line, I'll cut his dick off." Emma said while still looking over the menu trying to decide what she was going to get for her dessert later.

"He means so much to me and I'm happy that I have him. I literally can go to him for anything and it seems that he always knows what to say in order to make me feel better. I love that man with my whole heart."

"Not you making me want to get married." Naomi said while laughing and you simply eyed her.

"I can always put in a word for you for Urban." You responded and you could immediately tell her cheeks were heating up.

"Just make sure at the wedding, we get paired together."

"Say less."

—

Joe let out a sigh and Ja’Marr immediately looked over at him and asked what was wrong.

"She blocked me again.”

“Are we….. surprised? I mean look how you acted towards her.” He quickly answered and Joe instantly had a look of annoyance on his face.

“This time will be different. I just need her to forgive me one more time.”

“Now… you cannot be serious. You cheated on her how many times? And not even including the times you didn’t tell her about.”

“I just wasn’t thinking straight, but now I am.”

“Now that she’s about to be a whole married woman, suddenly you grew up and matured? You literally haven’t mentioned anything about her until I sent you that pic on instagram with the two of them.”

“He doesn’t deserve her.”

Ja’Marr immediately rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and you do? When you treated her like absolute shit. You my boy so obviously I didn’t tell her in the hopes that you would get your shit together, but that clearly didn’t work out. Like Y/N would have done anything for you.”

“I just need to talk to her in person, I’m sure that I can change her mind.”

“Delusional much?”

“Will you just back me up on this?!”

“Back you up on what? Stupidity?” Ja’Marr answered, but Joe was clearly on a mission and would not let this go easily. You were his girl through and through and he was about to do anything he can in order to be able to get you back.

“You’ll see, she’s going to take me back.”

All Ja’Marr did was roll his eyes in response.

“Hmm, good luck with that. But don’t call me crying when she tells you no.”

“I won’t have to because she’s not going to.”

From that point on, it was the middle of the summer so since training camp hadn’t started yet, Joe was making you his full-time mission. He knew that because of you now being engaged to Jack, more than likely you were spending the majority of your time in Louisville so that is where he decided to go first.

He figured that if he could find you anywhere that it would be at your boutique.

Once he walked in, he immediately saw Emma who he knew was one of your best friends and she immediately sent a death glare in his direction and her eyes wouldn’t leave his. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene, but she just couldn’t help herself and blurted it out.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here? She’s not here and doesn’t want to see you and you need to leave before I call security.”

“Relax Emma, I come in peace.” Joe answered with his hands up in defense, but she wasn’t having it.

“And you will leave here in pieces if you don’t get the fuck on somewhere. She doesn’t want you anymore. She’s finally happy and I for damn sure am not going to let you mess anything up for her.”

“I just can’t come by to say hi?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. You might have everyone else fooled, but not me because I know how you truly are out of the spotlight. Stay away from her or I will not hesitate to tell Jack and he isn’t going to be happy.”

“I see I’ve caught you at a bad time, but I’ll be back to talk to my girl.”

“Burrow, go fuck yourself.”

When Joe had finally left the boutique, Emma immediately called you.

“Hey boo!”

“Babe! Don’t come back to the boutique for the rest of the day. Go bother Jack or something.”

“What the? What’s wrong?”

“Joe was here looking for you and I kicked him out. He needs to get a fucking grip because ain’t no way in hell you’re about to take him back. I had to mention that I was going to tell Jack in order for him to leave.”

“I….”

“Just… go spend time with Jack. I got this covered, go wedding plan or something.”

Once you had gotten off the phone, you were visibly upset and needed to get your mind off of things. You were going to take her advice and go home and try to spend time with Jack because at this point, you didn’t know what to do.

You had thrown the different fabrics in the backseat of your car before going to sit in the front and dialed Jack’s number. You sped out of the parking lot in the direction of your shared house not believing that he had the absolute nerve to do this.

It didn’t even ring two times, before you heard his voice.

“Yes, my future wife? What’s up, baby?”

“Can you… can you come home?” You quietly asked and you already knew that Jack was not going to let this go without knowing what was wrong with you.

“Of course, baby. Did something happen? I can hear it in your voice. I know when something is wrong with you.”

“Umm…..”

“Don’t start that, tell me.”

“Joe showed up at the boutique looking for me and Emma called and told me.”

“He WHAT?” Jack’s voice instantly got louder and stopped what he was doing.

“I… don’t want you to get upset.”

“How can I not be? What the hell is his problem? You don’t respond to his DM and now he comes here looking for you? He needs to stay the fuck away. Nah, now he got me pissed off.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not, but protecting you is my main priority.”

“Can you just come home? I don't even want to think about this anymore.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

As promised, within fifteen minutes you heard the front door open indicating that Jack was now home. You were simply sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket burrito as you flipped through Disney Plus in order to find something to watch. Jack walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your forehead as you popped your arms out from underneath the blanket to hug him.

“You pick the movie and I'll order food. What do you have a taste for?”

“Hmm Italian please.”

“Coming right up.”

“I'm sorry to take you away from what you were doing, I should have just waited until you got home.” You quietly said as you thought about it.

“No, work can wait. If my baby needs me, she needs me and I'm going to make sure she's okay.” He told you as he stroked your face and you simply nodded.

“What do you think he even wants?” He asked as he placed his phone on the coffee table and sat next to you.

“To talk to me to get me to forgive him. It's always the same thing every time. He thinks that an expensive piece of jewelry and flowers are all that he needs to change my mind. At one point in time that might have worked, but not now.”

A week or so had passed without incident, but you were in for a surprise while you were at your boutique finishing up some sketches when you got a bouquet of flowers delivered.

You smiled at first thinking that they were from Jack and quickly went to facetime him without bothering to read the note attached to them.

“Hey pretty girl.” Jack said and he looked to be eating with Urban beside him.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for my flowers, they're so pretty.” You exclaimed as you switched the camera to show him.

Jack instantly got quiet and stopped chewing as he stared at them and let out a sigh. He instantly looked pissed off. You were confused and looked at him dumbfounded.

“I didn't send you those.”

“Wait, what? But they're my favorite. How….” You trailed off as you grabbed the note that was in the bouquet and looked at it in utter disgust as you saw Joe’s handwriting staring back at you. Without finishing the note, you promptly grabbed the bouquet and walked over to the trash can, throwing it in there before responding to Jack.

“Why doesn't he understand that I’m never going to give him another chance and that he is just simply wasting his time?” You quietly said and Jack had yet to say anything. From the moment you realized that he didn't send them, he instantly knew who did.

“I don't know, but this is really starting to piss me off.”

"I think that I just need to have a conversation with him. Even though I know that the last thing you want is for me to be around him, but it's the best idea I have."

"I was thinking restraining order, but okay."

"I don't even want to think about this anymore. We have other things to worry about, like what we're wearing to Michael's party."

yourinstagramname added to their story

The two of you showed up to the party together and were mingling with the other guests when you had told Jack that you were going to get another drink. He simply nodded at you and continued to talk to Druski. You made your way inside and refilled your glass when you felt a presence behind you. You silently cursed to yourself once you had gotten a whiff of the familiar cologne that you never wanted to smell again for as long as you lived because of the person that you knew it was attached to.

That wasn't your fiancé, but your ex-boyfriend who you did not know would be in attendance. If you would have known that he was going to be here, you would have stayed cuddled up under Jack at your hotel and not even bother to show up.

“I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later.” You heard Joe say before you turned around to look at him.

“And you can keep walking because I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

“Come on Y/N, don't be like that. I just want to talk. Just give me one more chance. I should have been the one to put that ring on your finger, not him.”

"You blew the multiple chances that I gave you so what makes you think you deserve another one? Do you think I'm really stupid enough to take you back after all that?” You asked as you looked at him in disbelief.

"I love you, doesn't that mean anything?!"

"No and no you're not. Not when I'm in love with my fiancé and you're in love with the idea of me. Someone you can have on your arm for everyone to see, but treat me like shit from behind the scenes. Face it, you blew it and whatever this was at one time is officially over and never happening again.”

Joe didn't get to respond to you because he saw Jack approaching from behind and promptly wrapped his arms around you before turning your face to kiss you.

“Everything okay over here?” Jack asked as he made eye contact with Joe before looking him up and down.

Joe hadn't been sure if you had told Jack all that had gone down between the two of you, but clearly because of the look on his face, it was obvious.

“Yep, just fine. Got my drink and I was just about to come and find you.” You answered as you smiled at him.

“Teyana was looking for you. She's out by the pool.” He told you as he nudged you in that direction.

You just prayed that this didn't end in a fight between the two of them.

“Well that's my cue to make my way out there.” Was all you said before leaving your ex in the presence of your fiancé.

Once you were out of earshot, Jack turned to Joe and didn't hold back on how he felt about him contacting you when the only thing you wanted was for him to leave you alone.

“I just want you to listen to me and listen to me good. There's literally no need for you to say anything or respond when I'm finished. You fucked up and you lost your chance or should I say chances with her. Y/N is now going to be my wife and the last thing she needs is her ex-boyfriend lurking in the shadows because he has a sudden realization of wanting that old thing back all because you're jealous because now she's happy and with someone who isn't you. While you two were together, you broke her trust and if you honestly think that she was going to give you another chance is wild. So take this as a warning to stay away from her and we won't have any problems. The place of her soon to be husband is spoken for, okay Joe? Good talk.”

It was quiet for a few seconds and as Jack turned to walk away from him, he heard his voice.

“I like you, Jack. I really do, but sooner or later she'll realize the mistake she's making.”

“Only mistake she made when it came to you was staying with you for so long. Don't worry, I'll send you wedding pictures.”

Jack hadn't bothered to bring up what happened between him and Joe for the rest of the party, but you were itching to know. You didn't see him for the rest of it, however you did see Ja’Marr and it looked like he was trying to make his way over to you, but he noticed the death glare that you were giving him and decided against it.

You and Jack had now just gotten back to your hotel room and had gotten settled for the night when you brought it up. He was scrolling on his phone, but could feel you looking at him.

“Yes, baby?”

“What did you say to him? Because I know you don't like confrontation, but I know you were pissed about the entire thing.”

“I just let him know to leave you alone, that's all.” Jack answered as he shrugged and you weren't entirely convinced.

“You threatened him, didn't you?”

“Threat is a very strong word, baby. I make promises. He shouldn't be a problem anymore, but if he is, you need to tell me. I'm the only man that is buying you flowers.”

___

About another three weeks had passed and you were currently at your boutique, but also wedding planning when you got small breaks in between clients. You had gotten some wedding magazines and let Jack know that you wanted his opinion so the two of you could move forward with the process.

Of course he had told you that he would be at the studio majority of the day and simply asked Briana to drop them off for you so you didn't have to leave the boutique.

“Bri, can you drop something off to Jack for me? He already knows that you're coming to meet him.” You asked her over the phone and that's when the wheels in her head started turning.

“Yeah, sure what is it?”

“Just a few wedding magazines and he was going to tell me any ideas he had later when we both got home.”

“Not a problem, I'll be there in 20.”

Once Briana got to the studio, Jack was already on facetime with you and the woman at the front let her know where she could find Jack. She made her way down the long hallway and stuck her head in to peek inside the room to see Jack and quickly called out to him.

“Hey Jack, I brought the magazines for you.”

“Oh hey, Briana. Thanks for bringing them. I hope it didn't put you out of your way at all.” He told her as he took the magazines from her hands.

“Not at all, I didn't mind. I had gotten off work early anyway so that's why Y/N asked me.” She told him and he simply nodded, but he was confused at the fact that she was still standing there.

“Uh, Briana? Did you need something else?”

“You know, I was honestly hoping that Y/N would give Joe another chance when she first told me about him sending her a DM.” Briana said and Jack immediately turned up his nose.

“Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I meant so that we could be together and everyone would get their happily ever after.”

“Wait, what? Briana I don't like you like that and I never have and never will. I'm marrying Y/N who is your best friend so I'm going to need for you to stop embarrassing yourself.”

Little did she know that you were hearing this conversation in its entirety.

“What does she have that I don't?”

“I… I am not doing this with you. So you can see yourself out.” Jack told her as he turned away from her, but she quickly tugged on his arm to turn him back around and attempted to kiss him, but he dodged her.

“You have three seconds to get out of my sight. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you can now consider yourself uninvited to the wedding.”

“Jack, she doesn't have to know.”

Just then she heard your voice come through Jack’s phone.

“Too late, because I already do.”

“Oh, um….”

"You and Joe deserve each other with how the two of you act."

As you were listening to the entire exchange on the other end, you were honestly in disbelief. Your best friend who had been your friend for years just tried to get Jack to cheat on you. And now thinking about it, everything now made sense. She started acting weird ever since the two of you got engaged all because you see how she now wanted Jack for herself.

You didn't say another word as you hung up the phone and tried to process everything that had just happened as you sat in your boutique. You only had one client left for the day and then you would be able to go home and think about how you couldn't see what she was trying to do all along.

The phone vibrated in your hand and you looked down to see that Jack was calling you back and you quickly answered.

“I…”

“I know.” He quietly said because you were obviously extremely upset.

“How could she do that to me? My so-called best friend.” You asked him as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Like you said, she and Joe deserve each other. I'm just happy you were on the phone and heard the entire thing. Of course I would have told you anyway, but still.”

“Babe….”

“Yes?”

“I want to elope.”

One week later the two of you were in the Maldives as you were admiring your huge wedding ring gracing your finger.

“You act like it's about to disappear.” Jack teased as he peered over at you.

“Shut up, it's pretty!”

“But you're prettier.”

“Hmm, tell me something I don't know.” You responded and all Jack did was look at you in disbelief.

“Hmm, not the response I was looking for. I thought that I was going to get a thank you.”

“Fine. Thank you, husband.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him before he smiled at you.

“That's more like it.”

“You know I had a thought…” You started to say before stopping mid sentence.

“And what's that thought, baby?”

“When I left him, I thought no one would be able to love me better than he could but you came along and proved me wrong.”

“And you'll never have to question how I feel about you or how important you are to me.”

“And even though I can buy myself flowers, I love them more when they come from you.”

I can buy myself flowers

Write my name in the sand

Talk to myself for hours

Say things you don't understand

I can take myself dancing

And I can hold my own hand

Yeah, I can love me better than you can

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

Y'all know I'm not one to save celebrity news without reason: There's some excellent analysis done in this article about air quality and airborne disease.

Macbeth: cancelled due to “illness” The eagerly anticipated production of Macbeth, starring David Tennant in the title role at the Harold Pinter Theatre, has cancelled four consecutive performances this week due to “illness within the company.” The latest cancellation, announced just two hours before curtain, left audience members disappointed, including those who had traveled internationally and rearranged work schedules.

Among affected ticket holders, some expressed frustration on social media about the late notice and lack of clarity. Twitter user @clairebobcat voiced a common sentiment:

"Ticket holders were notified at 5:45 this eve. Really short notice considering illness has been ongoing since Friday. All best wishes to the cast—illness can’t be helped, but very shoddy treatment of ticket holders. Travel money & Annual leave wasted."

The ongoing cancellations reflect broader challenges facing the theatre industry in the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic.

The arts still in crisis due to Covid A survey by Theatre Washington reported that while 58% of Washington, D.C. theatre patrons once attended performances six or more times per year, only 31% have done so since reopening. Almost half of patrons surveyed now attend just three times or fewer, and nearly 68% cited fear of Covid-19 exposure as a primary reason for staying away.

The UK is facing unprecedented rates of long-term illness due to long Covid, a condition marked by symptoms including post-exertional malaise, cognitive impairment, and cardiopulmonary dysfunction.

Public health data shows that over two million people in the UK are affected by long COVID, with more than 10% of Covid cases resulting in prolonged symptoms.

High-profile performers, including Alyssa Milano and Matt McGorry, have spoken publicly about their struggles with long Covid, shedding light on the profound and lasting impact of the illness.

Protect the Heart of the Arts In response to these issues, Protect the Heart of the Arts, an advocacy organisation for members of the performance community with long COVID or who are clinically vulnerable, has offered to donate a HEPA air purification system to the Harold Pinter Theatre, which is staging Macbeth.

Glenda from the group told the Canary:

"It’s unsustainable, unethical, and we can’t afford to accept it as occupational: our employers, unions, regulatory bodies and politicians have to address the ongoing SARS-CoV-2 pandemic head-on.

Beyond key vectors (hospitals, schools, prisons), creatives are uniquely vulnerable, especially within live formats, alongside venue staff and audiences; not to mention all within said categories who’ve been marginalised, nor the walk-back of digital programming."

The organisation argues that improved air quality could help reduce health risks for cast, crew, and audiences, potentially preventing further cancellations.

Covid isn’t over – as Macbeth inadvertently shows “We may not know the exact illness affecting the Macbeth cast, but we do know that Covid is a serious vascular disease requiring extended recovery times,” noted Charles Waltz, founder of Protect the Heart of the Arts:

"Reinfections weaken immunity to other pathogens, so without measures like air purification and adequate recovery time, we risk ongoing illness cycles that could impact health and stability across the industry. Clean air and flexible recovery policies are essential to protect the performance community’s long-term health."

[gravehags]

falling so badly (i'm coming apart)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: making out, love confessions, reader is a virgin, idiots in love, masturbation, copia being a possessive little sex freak, gay trauma, vague mention of suicidal ideation, paintless copia, vulnerability, donuts

Words: 6,189

Summary: Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

a/n: well this was supposed to be one fic and now it's looking like it's getting split up into multiple because these hoes (me) don't know how to shut the fuck up. takes place immediately after the events of satan baby! made myself sad writing about their respective trauma so y'all better fucking like this lmao and you can expect a couple more installments :) i promise they'll eventually fuck nasty (tender)

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

It takes an absurdly long time for the two of you to finally reach your rooms between Copia routinely pausing to push you against the nearest wall with his fingers buried in your hair, lips slotted against yours and you doing the same to him.

His paints are a mess and you know half of them are now on your face but it matters little to either of you. Your right hand carries the bag full of gifts you received that evening while the left is entwined with Copia’s large, leather clad one and the sight makes you grin with pure delight. Finally, you took the step you’ve been dying to for months and your risk has more than paid off. Now here you are, standing outside your door hand in hand with your beloved giving each other a sideways glance. You set down your bag and turn to face him.

“Would you…would you like to come in?”

Your voice is a little shaky and you know exactly why as you watch the Cardinal gnaw on his lower lip and fidget. This has the potential to be a huge night for you, in more ways than one, and the anxiety in your stomach bubbles. He looks as if he is struggling as he lets out a deep sigh and your heart plummets.

“Dolcezza, I…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “I would love nothing more. Truly, you have no…no idea how much I desire…” 

When he reopens his eyes his gaze is hungry and you nearly gasp at the way his eyes slowly drag over the shape of you. “How I…cazzo, bellezza you have no idea how mad you make me.”

“The feeling’s mutual, believe me,” you murmur, tilting your head and watching him curiously. You’re not sure if your ears are playing tricks on you but you swear you hear him groan.

“Eh, y-yes. Well. That being said as much as I would love to…to…stay,” he says the word carefully, deliberately, “first I would like to have the chance to eh…to woo you.”

You almost laugh but suppress it when you see how earnestly he looks at you. Your beloved Cardinal. The man who took care of you when you were drunk, the man you called upon to be by your side as you cried. The man who sat in your office multiple days a week, making stupid jokes and flirting with you. Who haunted your dreams. Who listened to you vent and excitedly explain. You would do anything for him. Anything he wanted, and you suspect he would do the same for you. So you smile.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve sufficiently wooed me for the past nine months but I’ll never say no to romance. That’s very thoughtful of you, Copia.”

You watch him blush and you know you have a gooey expression on your face.

“Bene. Bene! I just…want to give you everything you deserve. T-to take you out. Spend time…more time with you.”

Everything you deserve. You don’t know if you deserve it but you know what you want. And while it’s clear he’s not going to indulge that particular desire tonight that doesn’t mean you can’t give him a little tease, right? Slowly you lean forward to wrap your arms around him, breathing in the smoky smell of his cologne on his pellegrina. You can hear him inhale deep as his nose trails along your neck and one of his hands tentatively slides along the small of your back. You just hold him for a moment and allow him to relax into your embrace before putting your lips to his ear and murmuring your killing blow.

“I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can stay a virgin a while longer.”

His breath comes so sharp he nearly hiccups as you place a kiss to the tip of his carefully crafted sideburn and pull away. His pupils are blown, mouth hanging open and practically panting. He looks like he wants to say something but all that comes out is a slight whine. 

“Goodnight, Copia,” you murmur, picking your bag up and opening your door. You step through the threshold and turn back to face him.

“Good–” his voice comes out high and pained, “goodnight, cara mia.”

Your eyes flick over him, echoing the way he looked at you earlier, and there is an ache at the juncture of your thighs when you see the not insignificant bulge tenting his cassock. He starts when he realizes what you’ve seen, hands dropping to mask himself but the damage has been done. You shut the door with a quiet snap and you hear a rough “cazzo” being snarled through the wood. Between his kisses and that…you certainly have enough material to take care of yourself tonight. 

And you do just that.

–

He’s practically running to get to the safety of his quarters, praying to Sathanas that no one stumbles upon him in this state. His mind has to stay blank, to steer clear of the bombshell you just casually dropped on him with a kiss and a smile. If he dwells on it too long he’s going to make a mess in his trousers and he does not want to have to explain that to the abbey launderers. 

Again. 

His prayers are answered as he pants in front of his door, having steered clear of anyone who could be wandering the halls. He fumbles with his keys, hands shaking as he manages to open the door and bolt inside. It’s cold in his rooms but all of a sudden he’s too hot, the wool of his cassock restricting as he shucks off his gloves and fumbles for the buttons. He only gets halfway through with them before losing patience and tearing the garment up and over his head and throwing it to the ground. His suspenders are slid off his shoulders with such force one of them comes detached from its button on his waistband and he viciously untucks his shirt. His cock throbs as he growls and undoes the buttons, toeing off his shoes at the same time. 

“Merda,” he hisses, aware of the mess he’s making for himself but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is unzipping his pants and sliding his underwear down before collapsing to his knees. A virgin. She’s a fucking virgin. He knows he won’t last long but he spits into his palm and takes himself in hand all the same, whimpering when his thumb brushes against the swollen head. Your name spills from his lips as he wetly slides his fist up and down, thinking of the way your tongue felt gliding against his when he had you pushed up against the wall. The soft little whimpers you made into his mouth, the way your fingernails scratched at the base of his scalp. Was he the first to ignite such passions in your heart? He groans at the thought, the sound of skin on skin deafening in the dimly lit room.

“W-what a g-gift you’re giving your C-Cardinal,” he grunts, “bellezza mia–ah–my p-perfect girl. So good for me. I will make you–augh–sing.”

His knees protest the position but his hips flex upwards, rutting into his fist. When he cums it’s with a growl, imagining you blushing beneath him with your pretty mouth hanging open in a moan. Each spurt paints his chest, clinging to the abundance of fine brown hairs and dripping down his stomach. His head falls back as he pants in the dark of his sitting room, still gripping his cock. It’s usually at this point the shame begins to wash over him for imagining you so lewdly but…you were all but his now, were you not? His lips curl into a devious smile and he chuckles thinking about how sweetly you kissed him tonight - and let him kiss you. How you tease him so, the little game the two of you have played over the past months. His dolcezza. And no one else’s. He would make sure of that. When his head falls forward again to look down he sucks in a breath at the sight of his cock swelling in his grip. Hard again, and so soon? The power you hold over him is unthinkable and he aches to tell you so. And speaking of ache…his back and knees both throb but all he can think about is the smell of your perfume and the taste of mulled wine on your mouth. His beloved…oh how he longs to worship you, to spread your legs and nestle himself between them to lap at your cunt. The thought drives his fist to move once more, mouth hanging open. He should haul himself up, drag himself to his bedroom and into the shower but all he can think of is you. You come as easily to him as breathing, you always have. He’s panting as he thinks about all the sweet sounds he will eke out of you, of you giving him the honor of having you. And he would not make you regret it - content to ravish you with fingers and tongue and cock until you beg him to stop. As he continues to furiously stroke himself his mind wanders to your first confession when you had told him about your lustful actions. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me. A whine is wrenched from his throat and his vision starts to go blurry with the knowledge that you were talking about him. That his sick little fantasies and indulgences were all correct. And as he cums for a second time that night, his seed dripping over his fingers and onto the unforgiving hardwood floor, he’s filled with the most satisfying sense of victory.

—

When you wake up the next morning and stretch in bed until your joints pop, it takes a moment to remember the events of the previous night. You think of your lovely time spent with the Papas, the beautiful gifts you received and…oh. A shit-eating grin stretches your mouth and you bury your face into your pillow to let out a scream. Merry fucking Christmas to you. You finally, finally made the step and told Copia how you feel and it’s like the weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders. And not only did you tell him, he reciprocated the feelings. He likes you. With a sigh you stare up at the dark wooden beams and rub your eyes til you see spots.

And then you remember.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” you half-shout into your bedroom, hand flying to your mouth in horror. He told you he wanted to woo you, to be sweet and treat you like you deserve and you…you idiot. Why did you feel the need to divulge one of your deepest secrets to a man you literally just told you cared for? God, that mulled wine did a number on you. What he must think of you…you look to your left and unplug your phone from the charger with every intent of texting him and apologizing for your behavior but before you can your screen lights back up with a notification.

Buongiorno, amore! I hope you slept well! Last night feels like a dream…one I wish to never awaken from.

Your phone vibrates again.

That is, I would like to awaken so that I might see you again.

And again.

It does not make last night any less dreamy, though.

You snort as your gaze goes to the ceiling. Idiot. Your idiot. Clearly you hadn’t been too off-putting, then. Sitting up you scoot backwards and type.

Morning, Copia. Thanks again for being so lovely last night <3

You type out your next thought, then hesitate.

I slept with your necklace on last night to keep you close to me. Is that weird?

Ehh…now that is off-putting. You move your thumb to delete the text and end up hitting the send button instead.

“Shitting fuck!” You fling yourself back down onto the mattress and groan with your eyes scrunched shut. Great. Now not only are you a virgin, you’re a cringe little simp too. Your phone vibrates but it takes another couple of minutes before you get the courage to look at what you’ve wrought. Finally you crack one eye open and glance at your screen.

Dolcezza. My dolcezza…you are too kind to this old man, I don’t deserve you but I adore you.

The candidness of his words makes you melt, curling into the covers to hunch over your phone. I don’t deserve you, what bullshit.

Copia, I am the very least you deserve. And I adore you back. Are you busy today?

The thought of seeing him always brought butterflies to your stomach but now they feel a little more exciting.

Nope! Yesterday was the start of the holiday, remember?

Shit, that’s right. You have the next two weeks off (with pay, Sister Imperator graciously informed you, much to your shock) and this was after you already had some time off to celebrate the holidays with your family. Truly you couldn’t imagine a better gig.

Duh, sorry! If you have a chance today, I’d love to see you. No pressure though!

Were you being too needy? You did just confess your feelings for one another last night. The quickness with which your phone vibrates again makes you jolt.

Amore mio, I am already on my way to your quarters xxx

The goofy, dreamy smile that blooms on your face disappears with alarming speed. Shit! He’s on his way!

You practically fall out of bed after flinging the covers back and immediately shudder at how fucking cold your room is. Quickly, you strip and fumble through your drawers for some fresh clothes. Something casual but not too casual…wait. Hold the fucking bus. You look down at your phone again to check the time.

8:54 AM

Growling, you slam your dresser drawer. If you were meeting Copia at this time pre-events of last night you’d throw on a pair of leggings and a big cropped shirt and call it good. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do right now. He didn’t fall for you perfectly coiffed and styled, he fell for you being a hot mess. You never had to wear a mask in front of him before and you’re not about to start. Not after some of the shit he’s heard come out of your mouth up to and including last night. 

Anyway.

The shirt you pick is soft and well-loved, the gold grucifix he gifted you last night catching the light on your clavicle. Before leaving your room you give yourself a couple of spritzes of perfume and grab your phone. You barely have a minute to yawn in your living room when there’s a soft knock at your door. You count for five giddy seconds before walking over and opening it and you give the man before you a sleepy smile. He’s wearing what you have come to know as his “leisure clothes”, still sporting his paints despite the fact that it’s early and he’s off duty. 

“Buongiorno,” he says softly, hands fidgeting.

“Hey,” you murmur, your smile widening. The two of you stand on the threshold in silence for almost a minute when he lunges at you. The action makes you gasp but any sound from your mouth is muffled when he slots his own over it. You’re content to let him lick into your mouth for a moment, his gloved hands gripping at your waist when you come to a realization and shove him off you.

“Oh gross,” you back away and he looks horrified as if he’s done something terribly wrong, “It’s not you! I forgot to brush my teeth, shit. Sorry, sorry - give me a minute!”

He says something but you don’t hear it as you dash back into your room and take care of business, snorting at the way you’re once again smeared with his lip paint as you scrub. After you finish you take a moment to clean the black marks off your lips before returning to your living room. He still dutifully stands there, hands behind his back.

“Eh–mmph!”

You don’t give him the opportunity to say whatever he wants to say because in two strides you’ve launched yourself into his arms and latched your lips onto his. Gripping the sides of his red velour jacket you pull him towards your couch until his legs bump up against it and with an inelegant shove you push him down onto the cushions. The way he looks up at you, hair tousled and mismatched eyes filled with adoration, makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over his freckled cheekbones.

“Copia…Copia I think I lo–”

A sharp - infuriatingly sharp - knock rings out in the room. You growl, your hands dropping from Copia’s face and your heart sinks at the way his shoulders sag. Another knock rings out and you exhale through your nose.

“Sorry,” you murmur to Copia before making your way to the door and opening it. It’s all you can do to not spit out a terse “what?” at the person standing there. The word is halfway out your mouth when Terzo gives you a goofy grin.

“Buongiorno, bella! You slipped away from us last night and oh, how we missed you. I…”

Terzo trails off and you realize that in that short amount of time Copia has sidled up next to you, a frosty expression on his face as he wraps an arm around your waist. You give him a curious look before looking back to Terzo, whose idiotic grin has somehow gotten even wider.

“Well, well, well now this is a surprise, eh? Congratulazioni to you both…”

Copia’s arm tenses around you as Terzo’s attention returns to you.

“So…how can I help you, Terzo?”

“Ah…right. The book you told me about last night…?”

You remember recommending something to him and hum aloud before breaking free of Copia’s grip and walking over to your bookcase. The tension between the Papa and his Cardinal is palpable and you grab the title and hustle back over to the door.

“Here you go. Uh…thanks for welcoming me to your celebration last night. It was lovely.”

He makes an amused noise.

“And productive too, I see. Well we’ll speak again soon, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Be safe and ah, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Ciao bella. Ciao Cardinal.”

You give him a tight smile before shutting the door and turning to your companion.

“Bit possessive for less than twenty-four hours in, no?” you say with a sly smile. Copia turns an impressive shade of red and takes a step back from you.

“I-I…I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

You had only meant to tease him but it’s clear you’ve struck a nerve.

“Don’t be,” you say gently, moving towards him to place your hands on his chest, “You know how I like to fuck with you. And honestly…it was hot.”

The journey his face goes on makes you laugh out loud before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“That being said, what was that about?”

He lets out a noise in between a groan and a sigh.

“Eh…it’s a long story.”

“Hmm, well last I checked we’ve got the next two weeks off so by all means,” you gesture to the couch, “enlighten me.”

The two of you nestle into the plump cushions, Copia looking apprehensive. You scoot closer to him and sling your leg into his lap, grabbing his hands and holding them in yours. He looks down at your entwined fingers and he smiles softly before letting out a sigh.

“Terzo and I have always had a…well, I don’t think it’s necessarily accurate to call it a rivalry. He’s always found charming people easy whereas I…have always struggled. It started when I was in my late teens at the abbey in Roma - Terzo was a little older and had already taken his vows. There was this boy. Paolo. He was new at the abbey and I was smitten as soon as I saw him. Blonde hair in ringlets that would catch the light…ah dolcezza. And what a voice he had, always standing out in the choir. I was desperate to spend time around him, would accept any scrap of attention he gave me. This went on for months and months, me trailing behind him like a puppy. One day I worked up the courage to make a move and told myself I would approach him at a party that evening. I put on my nicest outfit, oh you should have seen me, cara. My mustache barely there. I thought I looked so dapper. I walked into the party and spotted his blonde curls over by the couch as he was draped on someone else. My heart…stopped. And when I saw who it was he was kissing…well. I’m sure you can guess, eh?”

“Jesus, Copia,” you breathe, squeezing his hand. “That is…incredibly fucked up.”

He nods. “But the worst part was Terzo knew how I felt about him. He knew and he still did it anyway. I cried myself to sleep every night for a week after that. Terzo had the nerve to approach me and tell me that I was ‘too good for him anyway’. Figlio di puttana…I swung on him. Right there in the cloister for everyone to see. The little bastard rat hitting an Emeritus brother. Secondo eventually pulled me off him but I did my damage. In more ways than one - Paolo had seen the whole thing. Wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore and eventually asked for a transfer to Puglia. I never saw him again.”

He gives you a sad smile.

“Needless to say it wasn’t the first time that would happen. And Terzo would always say ‘you were too good for them, topolino, they don’t deserve you’. Well it would have been fucking nice to learn for myself, huh? When I left the Roma abbey at twenty-one and was sent abroad I was finally able to come into my own. So eh. Now you understand why I acted…the way I acted. Mi dispiace.”

“Don’t apologize,” you say softly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I…I get it. We all have our trauma about relationships. I’ll tell you about mine in a minute but I do have to tell you this now…Terzo knew how I felt about you. Saw it almost immediately. Always encouraged me to approach you or spend time with you even when I felt self conscious about it. I can’t speak to his motivations when you were younger but I think he wanted us to get here. I mean, is it selfish and fucked up of me to want to thank him for getting you here?”

Copia nuzzles into your palm before turning his head and placing a kiss there.

“No, tesoro. I don’t think so. And…” he pauses, thoughtful, “perhaps Terzo knew none of those people were meant for me. Ah, that’s silly.” He shakes off the thought and leans over to kiss you on the forehead before looking at you with a cocked head.

“I..I suppose you want to hear my tale then?”

Your hand falls from his face and he nods.

“Only if you wish to share it.”

A deep gut-wreching sigh comes out of you and your hands fall to your lap.

“So, um. Middle school right? I was twelve. Odd…odd kid. Didn’t really have any friends, just a lot of people I hung around. Anyway, this new girl starts at my school in my grade. Hayley. She was the most beautiful thing I’d seen - long blonde hair, tall, big blue eyes. And here’s the thing - she was nice to me. Liked me even! I couldn’t believe my luck and I was infatuated. I didn’t even know I liked girls until that point but she was special. So we became friends - best friends, even - and would constantly spend time at each other’s houses. Her parents had a pool so the summer before 8th grade I was always over at her place. One day we’re alone in the water and…Christ, I don’t know what I was thinking…I lean in and peck her on the lips. She freaks out. Starts calling me the nastiest names. Some words I didn’t even know until I heard them coming from her. We get out of the pool and she tells me I have to go home but wouldn’t let me use their phone to call my mom to come pick me up. So I walked home. In my sopping wet bathing suit and flip flops and no towel I walked almost two miles to my house. Jesus, I could’ve been…ugh. Anyway I finally get home to my parents who were flipping out thinking something had happened to me and I just collapsed in the driveway, crying. Sat there on the hot pavement and sobbed and sobbed and told them everything. So you know how it goes, my mom is fucking furious and calls her mom to scream at her for what she did to me, Hayley’s mom screams back calling me some choice fucking slurs. Distinctly remember hearing ‘fat little dyke’ shouted from the receiver. Meanwhile I’m just in my room petrified because I know she’s going to tell everyone when school starts again. Devastated because my only friend whom I adored now was disgusted with me and wanted nothing to do with me. It’s…” for the first time, your voice breaks, “it’s not fucking right for a little girl to go through that, you know? My parents saw the writing on the wall and immediately sent me to therapy but nothing could have prepared me for the first day of school. Kids ignoring me I could handle but their cruelty? Their mockery? I hid in the bathroom every day just fucking suffering. Whenever I saw Hayley it was like a knife in my gut. Finally it…got to a bad point. Like, a really bad point. I almost…anyway. I finally told my parents what was going on and they transferred me to a new school. But, you know, the damage was done.”

You reach up to wipe your tears with a derisive little laugh. Copia makes soft fretting noises at you and raises your hand to his lips to pepper it with kisses.

“Amore…I have no words. No words to describe how…crudele. Children can be so vicious. And for her parents to say such awful things about anyone let alone a child…” he lets out a low growl, “I am so sorry. My bellissima dolcezza…”

“Wow this is not how I pictured this morning going,” you say with a harsh bark of laughter, sniffling, “thought we’d have a little makeout session on the couch then go get some breakfast but you know, here we are. Trauma time.”

He chuckles and the sound warms your heart.

“Thank you for listening,” you whisper before leaning forward to nestle yourself in his lap. “Thank you for always listening, my love.”

Your ear is pressed to his chest and you hear the rumble of one of his little noises.

“And you, amore. We make quite a pair, no?”

You snort inelegantly.

“What, two traumatized, autistic, bisexual bitches?”

Copia lets out a strangled noise and his chest shakes as he dissolves into laughter with his eyes closed. You lean up and peck a kiss onto his jaw.

“So…breakfast?”

“Excellent idea,” Copia says, groaning as you shift off of him and into a standing position. You take his hands and haul him off the couch, still holding on even after he’s up.

“Promise me you’ll tell me about these someday?” you say, gesturing to his gloves. He shifts to his other foot and gnaws on his lower lip.

“Eh…yes. Another long story for another time.”

You sense his discomfort and you have no desire to press the issue. Instead you press your hand to the small of his back and steer him towards the door.

“Trying to get rid of me, tesoro?”

“Hardly,” you say, opening the door and urging him out, “I wanna get down to the dining hall while there’s still donuts.”

—

The rest of the morning is deliciously lazy, with the two of you lingering over your meal long past anyone else. You’ve gotten more than one curious look from a passing sibling, whose eyes flick from your clasped hands to the way you gaze at him, resting your face on your propped up hand. You continue to pick at your scrambled eggs long after they’ve gone cold, content to listen to him ramble (the current topic is medieval Satanic mystics.) He’s filled with such a wealth of knowledge it honestly leaves you in awe, as well as makes you a little giddy to know you have access to him and his beautiful, silly brain whenever you like. Yours. He’s yours. Your eyes trace the hollows of his eyes, masked by black paint, down the length of his long nose, across the spattering of freckles on his cheeks and down to his lips. His plump, soft lips and the way they felt molded to yours. The way he had you pressed against the stone wall of that empty corridor, groaning into your mouth and fisting your hair, his thigh slotted between your legs to press right up against your–

“Cara? Did you hear what I said?”

“Mmm…h-huh what? Sorry?”

The last word comes out of your mouth a little loud and very panicked and Copia cocks his head at you, looking alarmed. You clear your throat and smile sheepishly at him, hoping to God and Satan he didn’t notice you looking at him like that.

“I asked what you would like to do for the rest of the day?”

“I–oh! Uh…what time is it?”

He looks down at his watch.

“Almost 11.”

You rub your eyes. While you might have slept well last night, all of a sudden you’re bone tired. Rehashing horrible life events will do that, you suppose.

“How do you feel about going back to bed?”

Now it’s Copia’s turn to look panicked.

“What bed? Your bed?”

“Yeah, we can nap for a few hours then…I don’t know. Watch TV. Take a walk. Whatever.”

“A nap, right,” he laughs, eyes darting, “ah…I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dolcezza.”

A sinister little grin unfurls on your lips.

“Oh yeah? Don’t trust me? Think I’m going to take advantage of you?”

His face flushes so fast you’re honestly impressed.

“N-not quite eh…cazzo. Diavoletta mia, you are making this very difficult.”

“Oh that’s a new one,” you murmur, running a fingernail over his knuckles. “Diavoletta mia, I like that.”

He gives you a pained look, one that tells you how desperately he’s holding back right now and it makes you ache. All he needs to do is say the word and you’d let him have you. He’s held your mind and soul in the palm of his hand for months now, to give him your body would be your honor. And pleasure. But instead you smile gently at him, knowing how badly he wants to treat you right. You love him for it but goddamn your vibrator is going to be exhausted in the meantime.

“You know I’m just giving you a hard time, right?” You wince at your choice of word and judging from the way his eye twitches, so does he so you redirect. “C’mon, let’s grab a couple more donuts for later then go get some rest, huh?”

The trip back to your quarters is uneventful, both hands occupied with clutching your prized donuts wrapped in napkins, which you deposit on the counter of your kitchenette. Copia hasn’t said a peep since you left the dining hall and it’s got you anxious, worried that your suggestive behavior earlier was off-putting. 

“Hey,” you murmur, raising your hand to lightly grasp at his bicep and run your thumb over the muscle lovingly, “what’s on your mind?”

“Eh, n-nothing, nothing. I’m fine, dolcezza.”

He’s not, and you know he’s not, but you don’t interrogate him further. Instead you take him by the hand and drag him to the doorway of your bedroom.

“I think some well-deserved rest will do us both good, my love.” His mustache twitches in a smile at the endearment which makes you feel relieved.

“Do you want to…um…” you gesture at his eye paint and he looks like a startled deer once again.

“I–yes. Yes, of course. My paints.”

Disengaging from him you walk to your linen closet and procure a washcloth which he takes and shuffles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You sigh and rub your eyes before throwing your mussed covers back and climbing into bed. Your phone gets plugged in before you settle on your side with your back facing the bathroom. Minutes go by - you’re not sure how many - and you open your mouth to holler your concern at him but ultimately stop yourself. The door opens quietly almost a minute later but you don’t turn to look at him, instead waiting for him to round the other side of the bed. When he does, you muffle a gasp at his wonderfully bare face. He nudges his shoes off and removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in a short-sleeved black t-shirt and his gloves. You’re overwhelmed - he might as well be stark naked before you for all the pale, freckled flesh you see - holding your breath as he silently peels the covers back and climbs into bed next to you. He settles on his back, staring at the beams on the ceiling and clenching his jaw. You scoot your body nearer to him, and place your fingers on his chin to tilt his face in your direction. He obligingly shifts onto his side, eyes darting everywhere but your gaze.

“Copia,” you whisper, taking in his deep-set eyes, the dark circles normally masked by black paint, and the long brown eyelashes, “you’re beautiful.”

He sucks in a breath and blinks at you, lips parted and pink from where he scrubbed the lipstick off.

“Amore…you…” he sighs heavily, “why do you care for this old man?”

You want to make a joke about hierophilia but can tell from his face this is not the time. So you settle for raw honesty.

“Copia…how could I not? After all the ways you’ve shown you care for me, how could I feel any other way about you? I—“

You can feel a lump forming in your throat so you distract yourself by raising your hand and tracing his crows feet and lines in his forehead.

“Copia, I don’t know of a better way to say this because I’ve never said it before but…I love you. I love everything about you - your mind, your wrinkles, your mustache. The grey in your hair and the way your ass looks in your cassocks,” he chokes out a laugh and leans into your touch, “Your kindness. Your infinite patience with me. The way you’re looking at me right now. I know we just…I don’t know became an item last night but…Copia you have to know I’ve loved you all along.”

Your tears are flowing freely at this point, sliding down your cheeks to soak your pillow and he brings a hand to the back of your head to draw you further towards him. Gently he kisses the salty trails on your cheeks, lips reverently brushing over your features. He addresses you by your name - not an endearment - and presses his forehead to yours.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo,” he murmurs hoarsely, “you are my everything. Tu sei la mia anima. My world. Thank you.”

You’re not sure how long he cradles your face - long after your tears have dried - and when he finally pulls away you feel both incredibly full and incredibly empty. He rolls onto his back and gently pulls you against him, your chin tucked into his shoulder and hand on his chest.

“Today was a lot,” you murmur, tracing designs into his pectoral.

“Bellezza mia,” he says and you can hear his smile, “the day is not over yet. It’s not even noon.”

You groan and smack him playfully, feeling him shake with laughter beneath you.

“Stop laughing at me and go to sleep, Cardinal Copia.”

He sighs, leather-clad fingers running through your hair.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, amore. Your company is far too enjoyable to be unconscious in it.”

It takes all of five more minutes before he starts snoring and you grin, your face pressed against him.

Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

[keenlovertale]

The U.S. Healthcare System’s Incompetence During the COVID-19 Pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.

[furryjellyfishfun]

The U.S. Healthcare System’s Incompetence During the COVID-19 Pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.

[son1c]

i need to know if once 3 grows up, is shadow like

"👍 kid"

or "you are old enough now - gives him a gun"

3 ages at an accelerated rate due to the whole tube baby thing. so, his childhood was much shorter than most people's.

this is a good thing for shadow, because once 3 ages out of that "small and vulnerable child" stage, his black arms brain relaxes and he stops being "chicken coded" as couch so eloquently put it.

shadow holds some resentment toward 3 for reopening the wound of his alien half. he hates being reminded of it, is always fighting to not be defined by it, and etc. so to have been hastened to those alien instincts deeply unnerves him.

but idk. it's not like 3 asked to be made. tails just got carried away.

i like the idea of shadow being forced to reconsider something he previously thought was set in stone. "destroy the black arms" suddenly becomes a little trickier when the alien in question is a little kid who has no association with the monsters you once knew.

3's an anxious wreck BECAUSE of shadow. he grew to love shadow when shadow was beholden to caring for him 24/7. but once 3 grew up and shadow snapped out of it, the sudden coldness and disgusted looks did not escape 3. he wonders what he did wrong, because he thinks he MUST have done something to make shadow hate him now.

i don't like the idea of shadow perpetuating the cycle of violence but the situation is truly. messy.

eventually, i think shadow would accept 3 of his own accord. his family is already so weird... why not make it even weirder, right? nature's healing and all that

[allastoredeer]

Title: Holy Suffering

Rating: Teen and Up Audience

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)

Relationships: Alastor/Lucifer Magne, Charlie Magne/Vaggie

Characters: Alastor, Lucifer Magne, Vaggire, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty

Additional Tags: Hurt Alastor, Protective Lucifer, Angst, Good Parent Lucifer, Good Significant Other Vaggie, Angel Dust Being Angel Dust, Humor, Sexual Tension, Major Character Injury, Hiding Medical Issues, Alastor is Bad at Feelings, Alastor the Roach King, Alastor Being a Jerk, Lucifer Magne Being a Jerk, Heavenly Power is Poisonous to Demons, Alastor Would Rather Die Than Show Vulnerability, No Beta We Die Like Adam

Summary:

It's the grand reopening of the hotels and things aren't going too bad. Lucifer's trying to be the best, supportive dad he can be for Charlie, but in a deserted hall, he gets a little sidetracked.

AKA

Alastor is bad at handling pain and Lucifer begrudgingly does something about it.

(Sequel to this fic: "De-Lovely")

[ningmengsblog]

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.

[darkhymns-fic]

Poor Reception

Husk is forcefully brought to the radio tower, where he finds Alastor injured after the battle. He's weak. He's vulnerable.

What better opportunity to finally be free of the Radio Demon's chains than right now?

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk Rating: M Word Count: 4531 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I wrote more for this ship? I'm unwell for them. Once again, a note that this fic contains depictions of unhealthy relationship dynamics, past abuse, and violence. More tags are on the AO3 mirror.

--

The thing was, Husk was still bleeding when Alastor called for him. So, he didn’t appreciate the urgency.

The cuts over his arms and his right cheek stung, not to mention both of his wings were aching badly. One of the angels from the battle had grabbed at them, seeming particularly pissed off that he even had wings in the first place. (Not like it was his choice to begin with). It had at least been satisfying blowing its face with his newly upgraded dice, even if a few of his feathers had been ripped up, and his clothes were now splattered with the gold that flowed from the angel’s severed neck.

Well, not like anyone got out of a fight that was worth fighting for unscathed.

The hotel still needed to be rebuilt, for it was nothing but rubble. Support beams stuck out of the ground, and all those fancy chandeliers from the lobby had shattered all over, glass shards mixing with stone and wood. Husk was careful, even if his wings were basically out of commission now. He picked up broken furniture and the remains of his bar, watching as the alcohol had already seeped into the dirt. In a more desperate time in his life, he might have tried saving some of his booze as best he could, but it was easy to shrug it off now, to shoot a smirk at Angel Dust when the guy made dirty jokes as they worked, and to even give Charlie a reassuring smile as she helped him out. He dared to think it was all going to be okay.

Husk didn’t notice the shadows gathering when he turned a corner, too focused on the cleanup.

He didn’t notice how they formed under his feet like a dark whirlpool, and only the sense of dread that ran along his fur even gave him a hint to what was happening. Too slow, for the long tendrils he recognized had reached up, curling around his legs, grabbing at his wrists—all to pull him straight down.

The last thing he saw was Niffty, the little demon still carrying around her golden bloodied knife like a trophy, stabbing at skittering bugs she kept unearthing. She turned, hearing him choke, her giant eye reflecting the blackness that was their boss’ shadow magic.

“Niff!” was all he could get out. A hand, taloned and strong, clamped over his mouth, muffling his screams.

Niffty simply blinked. He saw his own terrified face in her gaze. Then, she smiled, jumping up and down maniacally. “Ooo, I want a turn too! Let me go next!”

Suddenly, he was struck blind.

These were one of those times he thought he was going through a second death. The complete darkness. The silence. The immovability. His arms and legs stayed locked in place, but he could feel the pain of his wounds that hadn’t fully healed, all while a hand kept his mouth shut like an iron muzzle. It was hard to tell if his eyes were open or closed, for there was only the dark, pulling him through hidden places that he might never return from.

It was endless. It was impossible to deal with. Husk had no other choice to even do anything else. The shadows wouldn’t let him go, wouldn’t even let him scream, no matter how much his teeth felt like they were going to crack from the strain.

This was it. He was truly dead, and it was far worse than anything else Hell had to offer.

And then he was spat out of the ground like garbage.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Husk coughed and gagged, grabbing at his side as fresh wounds reopened. Somehow, swearing in the name of the Lord still hadn’t set him on fire, like he’d expected to the first time he did so. He was too nauseous to keep in mind the list of acceptable curses, already vomiting up some of the pancakes the king of Hell had made them all just a bit earlier. All his earlier cuts went back to stinging like a bitch again.

To the right, he saw a cackling shadow on the far wall, its antlers taking crooked shapes like the branches of a rotten tree.

“You gotta be joking me… I told you I hate going through that shit!” Husk wiped his chin with the back of his hand, grumbling all the while. It took all his effort just to slowly pull himself to a sitting position, balancing his shivering body on his knees. “If you want me somewhere, just use the phone! Or send a goddamn telegram or whatever. Not this nightmare express!”

The shadow of Alastor continued to laugh silently, its smile stretching and making gaps in its mockery of a face. It even gave Husk a little wave before going back to laughter, bending its back in painful contortions.

Husk grimaced, hating what he now knew: that Alastor was indeed still alive. Fantastic. Couldn’t have even stayed in bliss for one day that maybe, somehow, he might finally be free. He was such an idiot.

His eyes were still getting adjusted after being engulfed in shadow for who knows how long. It was only then he realized the lighting wasn’t normal—at least as normal as it got in Hell. Blaring red light coated the entire floor and walls, but it flickered, occasionally making his boss’ shadow disappear and reappear like a magic act. Husk directed his gaze to the ceiling, finding several broken fluorescent lights, the ‘On Air’ neon sign having two letters working at most.

Husk felt the cold metal beneath his feet, finally noticed the shattered windows around him, and the cramped space. Yeah, he’d been here plenty of times. The same radio tower his boss would materialize wherever he fucking felt like it. But along with the hotel, it had also collapsed. The tilt of the floor was already giving him a headache.

The shadow moved suddenly, stretching bigger and bigger until it reached the length of the floor. Husk scrambled away from letting it touch him a second time. “Ugh, what do you want now?”

He kept his eyes on the shadow, but it didn’t reach for him this time. Instead, it slid towards the front of the broken radio tower, where the console had been broken in half, the dials and buttons having fallen off.

He only then noticed Alastor’s body leaning against its side, legs stretched out on the floor. His own shadow finally melded with him.

Husk froze. He didn’t know what to do or think. He worried if taking another breath would break the image right in front of him.

There was blood pooling around Alastor, staining the floor.

The lights kept flickering, reflecting off steel-toed shoes, the frayed jacket that still hung around the Radio Demon’s shoulders, and the broken mic cane where each half was clutched in a separate hand.

Husk waited a long beat before he finally decided to try standing.

Easier said than done. His body still hurt from where the shadows had grabbed him, including his jaw and teeth. But he tried to get himself to one foot, watching the blood from his cuts drip down his arm, reaching his knuckles.

Eventually, he stood. His own shadow from the red light stretched out to Alastor, falling over both his boss’ face and torso. Even in the dimness, he could see the long gash across the chest, ruining the button-down he always wore. But that same chest also rose and fell, slightly. The red light around them pulsed like a struggling heartbeat.

“You’re a complete fucking mess,” Husk muttered.

The room was quiet except for the constant electric buzzing, but Alastor didn’t respond. Maybe he was truly knocked out, otherwise Husk would have felt his neck tighten, brought back down to the floor as another threat to his soul loomed over him. But there was nothing, just Alastor sitting there, broken.

And healing, Husk realized. He was healing very, very slowly.

It was a mistake, but he took a few steps forward, avoiding contact with the broken glass. No other nightmare shadows played around in his vision, nothing but his own, which slowly engulfed Alastor until all that red darkened. He saw the demon’s eyes were closed, his head lowered to his chest, still clutching so tightly to the broken mic.

What was he even doing right now? Why did his throat dry up and his hands shake so? Especially if his boss was barely breathing—

Alastor raised his head. The sound of sparks was faint, but there. Eyes lit up in their familiar electric crimson.

“Husker…” He said the name as if dragging teeth across flesh. “Such a… s-surprise to see you…!”

A stutter. Husk wasn’t sure if he had ever heard Alastor stumble over a word in his life (or death). What radio host worth his salt would make such a rookie mistake as to stutter?

Alastor’s grin was tight, resembling more of a grimace. Maybe he realized, too.

Husk let his eyes examine Alastor again, from the fresh blood still blooming over his chest, to the jagged ends of his broken mic. The head of it crackled, picking up only noise and static. No hint of distant voices or music—no hint of those usual screams Husk would sometimes catch through the walls as he slept.

“Adam got ya, huh?” He took another step, even if the feeling of terror didn’t exactly pass. But he never claimed to be a smart man.

There was a sharp glint in Alastor’s eyes—a furious spark of electricity. It passed instantly, Alastor keeping up his smile despite his radio act going off the rails.

“Now, don’t… don’t be spreading some false rumors. I just… appear to be having some technical difficulties… Please stand by, I need… Please stand by…”

The tone in Alastor’s voice was unnerving. His boss was usually on top of his game, but this was something else. In all their time together in Hell, he had never seen his boss so beaten in both body and pride.

Husk clenched his hands, claws furling and unfurling rhythmically. “So, did you bring me here to help you out? Keep you company?” He held out his hands in abject confusion, because it wasn’t like he was good at either of those things. “What’s the deal?”

He expected some inane nonsense from Alastor, even if the situation wasn’t the usual. But the other was still holding tight to the broken mic, still smiling as if it was the last thing he could do to keep up the routine.

But there was a flicker along his expression, an interruption over the airwaves. “Bring you… Is that right?” He shook his head minimally, still laying most of his weight on the radio console.

Husk felt his fur rise on their hackles. “Is this another stupid fucking bit of yours? I didn’t come looking for you. You’re the one who summoned me here with your shadow shit just now!”

Alastor chuckled, but there was a curious twitch in his right eye. It made the static rise higher, sputtering in pieces. “Husker, you and…your poor attempt at humor. I didn’t…ask for you…”

His head started to throb. He could still barely forget the claustrophobic feeling of being dragged into darkness, hardly able to breathe or even know if he fully existed anymore. It hadn’t been the first time Alastor had done it to him either, but now after he did it again, he didn’t even remember?

Was tormenting Husk just fucking instinct to him?

Alastor was now muttering, which was a whole new realm of lunacy Husk didn’t want to understand. “Just experiencing—” Loud static that could wriggle its way into eardrums. “Experiencing technical difficulties. Please—” More static, like an ocean wave that was steadily growing bigger with each passing moment. “Please stand by…”

The mic kept glowing then dimming, bright and then dark. It reminded Husk of some sort of lighthouse, one that only illuminated red, making it that much harder to see and find the rocks just below.

He didn’t see his boss’ strange shadows anymore. But it must have slept within him, using the very last of his strength to keep Alastor intact. But then why was he even brought here? Just to sit and watch?

Alastor was still deeply wounded. The guy could barely even look at him, his words coated in awful static, as if the dial was stuck on an AM station. Husk lowered his ears, hating every second.

He didn’t have to keep listening to this.

Husk reached into his pants pocket, wondering if he’d be lucky enough. He felt the familiar edge of the card and pulled it out. One from his old deck that he had been allowed to keep, despite it all. Except now, it was coated in the same silver lining that the angel’s weapons had, courtesy of Carmilla Carmine.

He’d already used the rest on the angels, their numbers so great, it ate through his entire deck except for one. The constant blinking of the red light revealed it to be the Joker card. He didn’t want to think too hard on that meaning.

But, he could kill Alastor right now. It would be so easy.

He took another few steps, quietly, and he’d have to thank the stupid form his body took in Hell for that. His feet barely made a sound over the metal floors, and soon he was standing over Alastor, the shadow of his wings covering both his boss and the radio console.

Alastor’s breathing was hollow, blending with the static. The shaking in Husk’s limbs finally seemed to subside, seeing none of the magic coming to Alastor’s fingertips. No sight of roving shadows or poisonous green. Even the antlers on his head remained small and unassuming.

Just aim the card at his neck. Then it’ll be over.

Husk didn’t understand his own hesitance, barely giving any second thoughts to the angels from before. He’d ruptured several torsos and blown up some heads. Alastor was just another body to get through—and the wound he suffered from Adam showed he wasn’t invincible. He could die, just as much as the rest of them.

He had to hurry it up.

But maybe Husk was breathing too loudly, or his feet did make a sound, probably finding a weakness in the metal to make it creak. Because Alastor picked up his head again, aiming his bright red eyes at Husk. The static increased, loudly. Desperately.

The light roved from Husk’s face to his hand. Blood was leaking through his boss’ smile, staining his shirt even more.

“Well, now…” he started to say, the dial turning to find a stable wave. But the static never left. “Just… what… are you even trying to do?”

Husk said nothing. He stared down at the man who had spoken of ripping apart his soul like it was nothing at all. He gripped the card more firmly between his fingers.

“You… do you think…” And then Alastor lost a bit more composure, a cough leaving his damaged throat. The static jumped, the electric shock of it making Husk wince. “That you have the actual gall to—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” He’d had enough. Husk took another step, feeling the sharpness of the card against his skin. “I’m cutting out of our deal, whether you like it or not.”

He didn’t know what reaction to expect from Alastor—the man had several screws loose, ready to turn from charming to outright psychotic at the drop of a hat—but even Husk was surprised at the sudden laughter that tumbled from his mouth. It wasn’t any of his favorite audience tracks he loved playing, such as after he’d taken care of another Overlord, the screams and applause overlayed. It was his own, and it would then garble and crescendo in unsettling waves, even as his eyes fixated on the card Husk was holding.

“Such big words…” Another cough, the blood now dripping down his chin. “From a drunken has-been who had to come to me—”

Husk had always been a gambling man, and much of his gambles had always bit him right in the ass, his current situation very much a point to that. But after everything he’d gone through, after all the bloodshed and the humiliation of that leash around his neck all hours of the day, Husk took the gamble and stepped past the invisible line that was Alastor’s boundaries.

Not like the man had ever respected his own.

His free hand grabbed at a thin neck, his knee placed against the still bleeding chest, knowing it would hurt Alastor. Hoping it would. And from the flickering of Alastor’s eyes, along with the constant static, it really must have stung. Badly.

No shadows reached out to grab him. No chains. Alastor was too weak. Whatever shadow magic he’d used from before had been the very last of his strength.

“I’m not that drunk to not be able to saw your neck off with this.” Husk held the card high, its edge serrated, made to cut through flesh easily—one of the few things he was able to retain since his own Overlord days. “I can make it a quick, clean cut or slow enough for you to feel every muscle snapping. Your fucking choice.”

But even with the threat of a second death once again, still healing from his other wounds, Alastor kept his grin. It widened, the blood flowing more freely.

Something about it was more deranged than before.

Husk tried not to let the age-old terror seep in, the kind of terror he had never been able to drink away. Alastor couldn’t do anything to him. It was different now. He had the upper hand. His fingers pressed against the other’s neck, feeling the man swallow.

“Well?!” Husk barked, leaning forward, putting all his weight on his knee, hoping it would crack more bones, burst more vessels. “What do you have to say?!”

Alastor opened his mouth. The blood kept flowing from an abyss that was endless. An abyss that swallowed all sound and was constricting.

“Husker…” Alastor lingered over the little pet name he had given Husk all those years ago. He held it between his teeth, slid his tongue over the letters like they were irresistible. “Are you having stage fright?”

The claws, still clutching that throat, twitched. The bastard. Even on the verge of death, he still had to find a way to mess with him.

Maybe it was to prove it to himself, but he let his claws pierce through the flesh just so, watching as Alastor’s eyes fizzled and sputtered. Anything to make it hurt more. “You losing your memory? I was more on the stage then you ever were.”

Alastor’s shoulders hunched up. He leaned forward, pressing into that knee despite what must have been unbearable pain. But no, this guy had always liked pain, didn’t he?

“You always make excuses.” No shadows came out of him, but it didn’t stop Alastor’s face from transforming into an abomination, one barely seen in the dark. “Don’t keep your audience waiting…!”

The blood from Alastor’s mouth fell on Husk’s hand. Wet, hot, and burning. Husk froze. He stared back into the red, the light of it piercing right into his skull.

He didn’t understand what was happening. This should have been easy. With how often Alastor had demeaned him, had humiliated him, had broken his very bones for his slip-ups, torn up his wings for amusement, and would yank at his chain so hard he thought his own neck would snap from the strain—

Slicing the demon’s neck was a mercy out of everything.

Suddenly, all those awful memories came flowing back to him. He had learned to shut them away with drink, and gambling, and any other vices that fell into his lap. If he’d heard the screams from the tower through his walls, he’d just pull the blankets over his head. If Alastor gripped his chin during a conversation, to “Ensure you’re paying attention, my dear friend,” Husk would just roll with it if he felt a certain tension in those fingers. There were times he could push Alastor away, or shout back, but the demon was unpredictable, and the way the dice rolled lately had not been in his favor.

Except now. Except right fucking now. He didn’t have to remember the pain, or the threat of death hanging over his head, or the sick ways Alastor would invade his boundaries. He could tear this man beneath him apart with just his teeth and claws alone, before finally rupturing his heart with the power of angels bent on revenge. He could eat his flesh and feast on his intestines and see how Alastor liked to be on the other side for once—!

All the noise in his mind was so much, hypnotized by that red, by visions of blood and gore and viscera,        that he didn’t notice the hands gripping his wrist. They had let go of the broken mic, pressed their talons into his fur.

Then there was the weight on his neck, the links entwined around Alastor’s fingers. They clinked together delicately, almost gently.

It was enough to terrify Husk out of his mind.

And the way the chain pulled him in, as it always did, to fall into that abyss where the smell of rotten meat came from. The way a hand reached up to grip at his cheek, drawing him further down into that same darkness where he can’t scream—

Stop. STOP.

Husk leaped back, his wings outstretched to lift him away from Alastor. Somehow, miraculously, the chain dissipated, like a fog. He stumbled once he landed, gripping onto the card that was still clean of any blood. His wings instinctively furled around his body, trying to forget the hands on him and how their touch skittered across his fur, leaving him confused and horrified at himself.

From such violent thoughts of bloodshed that only Alastor would revel at, to wanting to sink against him.

The red lights of the radio tower continued to flicker. There was a monotonous drone, one that wriggled inside Husk’s skull like a maggot, searching for his soul. He just barely lifted his eyes to see it come from that broken mic, the one that Alastor had gone back to holding tight.

Or had he ever let go? Had Husk just been hallucinating the entire thing? Yet another look at Alastor, at the eyes that bore right through his, made him want to shudder. His wings furled tighter around himself, but he already felt so exposed, right down to his very ribs.

“What did you do to me?” he finally asked, barely able to go past a whisper.

In the background, he thought he could hear soft music play—a piano ballad, one that was played in those old swing clubs from a time he could barely remember, along with a woman’s singing voice. It would then drown in that static, overwhelmed, but it was getting stronger. Alastor was slowly coming to himself.

And the demon laughed again, the filter over his voice lessening just enough for Husk to not mistake his words. “Nothing that you didn’t want for yourself.”

Husk remembered the bloodlust, the texture of Alastor’s skin against his hands, and he wanted to vomit once more.

He didn’t, swallowing any bile as he scrambled back, not caring when he touched broken glass. “Shut up! I can’t even do this now?! I…” His throat was tight. “You’ve ruined everything for me.”

Alastor let his tongue seep out, like a black leech that had found its way to land, before retreating to the dark. “No, I only came to pick up the pieces.” The chuckle reverberated out of him, deep. “Such a naughty liar you are.”

Husk’s claws pierced the floor. The sensation was awful. Any euphoria he felt before from fighting off the angels, from the smiles of his friends, from the very thought that just for once he would finally find freedom—gone.

Alastor wasn’t near him, but he remembered the feeling of his hand on his face, the stroke of fingers through the fur, (the vice-like grip over his mouth to keep him screaming) all as the leash kept pulling him and his will along with it.

“Oh, sweet Husker. You can’t kill what you love.” Said so easily, with such glee that it made Husk’s vision spin. Even so, Alastor’s face stayed imprinted in his memory forever. “But don’t worry. This’ll be our little secret, and don’t we already share so many by now?”

Husk glared at the Radio Demon, but he did so like a cornered animal, hiding behind a worthless shield, remembering the taste of blood on his tongue.

“No one has to know a thing,” Alastor continued. The static wrapped around them both, dripping with mercury. “Let’s make all our new friends so proud.”  

Another deal, verbally made within the shattered tower. No one else needed to know of Alastor’s temporary weakness here, his close brush with second death, the loss of control he had, if only for a moment. And no one needed to know Husk’s true nature.

Secrets that would bind them together, strangling, choking, until the very end.

Husk felt a sharp sting on his right palm. He looked at the card he kept holding, at how he cut himself across the heart pattern over his fur. The front of the card was stained.

He gritted his teeth, felt tears prick at his eyes. He quickly put the card away in his pocket.

“Just hurry and fix yourself up,” he muttered as he got to his feet. His wings still stayed around him, gripping onto them like a tattered coat. “Charlie’s probably waiting for you.”

He felt the tears run down his cheeks. Great, now he was crying. For fuck’s sake.

Husk tried turning away, not wanting Alastor to see again how he had this hold on him, how easily he could do that while still bleeding out the floor. But the music kept playing, occasionally skipping a note, to the point that it was almost pleasant.

Sometimes, if he pretended, he could forget the awful things when a nice song played every once in a while.

Husk risked a quick glance, and saw that Alastor was no longer looking at him. Instead, the eyes of the Radio Demon were directed to the floor, to the broken mic cane, where the song echoed out from its tinny speaker.

An intermission.

Husk didn’t want to stick around any longer.

He found the stairs that led down from the half-standing tower. His hand gripped his wings still, before finally going down, and down, and down.

But before he left, he thought he saw familiar, convulsing shadows on the side. Their outlines were tinged in green, their teeth jagged and sharp. One had Alastor’s face, which stared right at him with the utmost glee.

And it winked.

[sydgauy]

The U.S. Healthcare System’s Incompetence During the COVID-19 Pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.

[biudgaiu]

The U.S. Healthcare System’s Incompetence During the COVID-19 Pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.

[yrtfwdqtuy]

The U.S. Healthcare System’s Incompetence During the COVID-19 Pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.

[gravehags]

falling so badly (i'm coming apart) - the natalie edit

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!OC (Curator!OC)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: making out, love confessions, natalie is a virgin, idiots in love, masturbation, copia being a possessive little sex freak, gay trauma, vague mention of suicidal ideation, paintless copia, vulnerability, donuts

Words: 6,171

Summary: Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

a/n: BISEXUAL TRAUMA!!!! the romcom

~~~

It takes an absurdly long time for the two of them to finally reach Natalie’s rooms between Copia routinely pausing to push her against the nearest wall with his fingers buried in her dark hair, lips slotted against hers and her doing the same to him.

His paints are a mess and Natalie knows half of them are now on her face but it matters little to either of them. Her right hand carries the bag full of gifts she received that evening while the left is entwined with Copia’s large, leather clad one and the sight makes her grin with pure delight. Finally, she took the step she’s been dying to for months and her risk has more than paid off. Now here they are, standing outside her door hand in hand and giving each other a sideways glance. She sets down her bag and turns to face him.

“Would you…would you like to come in?”

Natalie’s voice is a little shaky and she knows exactly why as she watches the Cardinal gnaw on his lower lip and fidget. This has the potential to be a huge night for her, in more ways than one, and the anxiety in her stomach bubbles. He looks as if he is struggling as he lets out a deep sigh and her heart plummets.

“Dolcezza, I…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “I would love nothing more. Truly, you have no…no idea how much I desire…” 

When he reopens his eyes his gaze is hungry and she nearly gasps at the way his eyes slowly drag over the shape of her. “How I…cazzo, bellezza you have no idea how mad you make me.”

“The feeling’s mutual, believe me,” she murmurs, tilting her head and watching him curiously. She’s not sure if her ears are playing tricks on her but she swears she hears him groan.

“Eh, y-yes. Well. That being said as much as I would love to…to…stay,” he says the word carefully, deliberately, “First I would like to have the chance to eh…to woo you.”

Natalie almost laughs but suppresses it when she sees how earnestly he looks at her. Her beloved Cardinal. The man who took care of her when she was drunk, the man she called upon to be by her side as she cried. The man who sat in her office multiple days a week, making stupid jokes and flirting with her. Who haunted her dreams. Who listened to her vent and excitedly explain. Natalie would do anything for him. Anything he wanted, and she suspects he would do the same for her. So she smiles.

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve sufficiently wooed me for the past nine months but I’ll never say no to romance. That’s very thoughtful of you, Copia.”

She watches him blush and she knows she has a gooey expression on her face.

“Bene. Bene! I just…want to give you everything you deserve. T-To take you out. Spend time…more time with you.”

Everything she deserves. She doesn’t know if she deserves it but she knows what she wants. And while it’s clear he’s not going to indulge that particular desire tonight that doesn’t mean she can’t give him a little tease, right? Slowly she leans forward to wrap her arms around him, breathing in the smoky smell of his cologne on his pellegrina. Natalie can hear him inhale deep as his nose trails along her neck and one of his hands tentatively slides along the small of her back. She just holds him for a moment and allows him to relax into her embrace before putting her lips to his ear and murmuring her killing blow.

“I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can stay a virgin a while longer.”

His breath comes so sharp he nearly hiccups as she places a kiss to the tip of his carefully crafted sideburn and pulls away. His pupils are blown, mouth hanging open and practically panting. He looks like he wants to say something but all that comes out is a slight whine. 

“Goodnight, Copia,” Natalie murmurs, picking her bag up and opening her door. She steps through the threshold and turns back to face him.

“Good–” his voice comes out high and pained, “Goodnight, cara mia.”

Her eyes flick over him, echoing the way he looked at her earlier, and there is an ache at the juncture of her thighs when she sees the not insignificant bulge tenting his cassock. He starts when he realizes what she’s seen, hands dropping to mask himself but the damage has been done. Natalie shuts the door with a quiet snap and she hears a rough “cazzo” being snarled through the wood. Between his kisses and that…she certainly has enough material to take care of herself tonight. 

And she does just that.

–

He’s practically running to get to the safety of his quarters, praying to Sathanas that no one stumbles upon him in this state. His mind has to stay blank, to steer clear of the bombshell she just casually dropped on him with a kiss and a smile. If he dwells on it too long he’s going to make a mess in his trousers and he does not want to have to explain that to the abbey launderers. 

Again. 

His prayers are answered as he pants in front of his door, having steered clear of anyone who could be wandering the halls. He fumbles with his keys, hands shaking as he manages to open the door and bolt inside. It’s cold in his rooms but all of a sudden he’s too hot, the wool of his cassock restricting as he shucks off his gloves and fumbles for the buttons. He only gets halfway through with them before losing patience and tearing the garment up and over his head and throwing it to the ground. His suspenders are slid off his shoulders with such force one of them comes detached from its button on his waistband and he viciously untucks his shirt. His cock throbs as he growls and undoes the buttons, toeing off his shoes at the same time. 

“Merda,” he hisses, aware of the mess he’s making for himself but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is unzipping his pants and sliding his underwear down before collapsing to his knees. A virgin. Natalie’s a fucking virgin. He knows he won’t last long but he spits into his palm and takes himself in hand all the same, whimpering when his thumb brushes against the swollen head. Her name spills from his lips as he wetly slides his fist up and down, thinking of the way her tongue felt gliding against his when he had her pushed up against the wall. The soft little whimpers she made into his mouth, the way her fingernails scratched at the base of his scalp. Was he the first to ignite such passions in her heart? He groans at the thought, the sound of skin on skin deafening in the dimly lit room.

“W-what a g-gift you’re giving your C-Cardinal,” he grunts, “Bellezza mia–ah–my p-perfect girl. So good for me. I will make you–augh–sing.”

His knees protest the position but his hips flex upwards, rutting into his fist. When he cums it’s with a growl, imagining her blushing beneath him with her pretty mouth hanging open in a moan. Each spurt paints his chest, clinging to the abundance of fine brown hairs and dripping down his stomach. His head falls back as he pants in the dark of his sitting room, still gripping his cock. It’s usually at this point the shame begins to wash over him for imagining Natalie so lewdly but…she was all but his now, was she not? His lips curl into a devious smile and he chuckles thinking about how sweetly she kissed him tonight - and let him kiss her. How she teases him so, the little game the two of them have played over the past months. His dolcezza. His Natalia. And no one else’s. He would make sure of that. When his head falls forward again to look down he sucks in a breath at the sight of his cock swelling in his grip. Hard again, and so soon? The power she holds over him is unthinkable and he aches to tell her so. And speaking of ache…his back and knees both throb but all he can think about is the smell of her perfume and the taste of mulled wine on her mouth. His beloved…oh how he longs to worship her, to spread her legs and nestle himself between them to lap at her cunt. The thought drives his fist to move once more, mouth hanging open. He should haul himself up, drag himself to his bedroom and into the shower but all he can think of is her. Natalie comes as easily to him as breathing, she always has. He’s panting as he thinks about all the sweet sounds he will eke out of her, of her giving him the honor of having her. And he would not make her regret it - content to ravish her with fingers and tongue and cock until she begs him to stop. As he continues to furiously stroke himself his mind wanders to her first confession when she had told him about her lustful actions. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me. A whine is wrenched from his throat and his vision starts to go blurry with the knowledge that she was talking about him. That his sick little fantasies and indulgences were all correct. And as he cums for a second time that night, his seed dripping over his fingers and onto the unforgiving hardwood floor, he’s filled with the most satisfying sense of victory.

—

When Natalie wakes up the next morning and stretches in bed until her joints pop, it takes a moment to remember the events of the previous night. She thinks of her lovely time spent with the Papas, the beautiful gifts she received and…oh. A shit-eating grin stretches her mouth and she buries her face into her pillow to let out a scream. Merry fucking Christmas to her. She finally, finally made the step and told Copia how she feels and it’s like the weight of the world has been lifted from her shoulders. And not only did she tell him, he reciprocated the feelings. He likes her. With a sigh Natalie stares up at the dark wooden beams and rubs her eyes til she sees spots.

And then she remembers.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” she half-shouts into her bedroom, hand flying to her mouth in horror. He told her he wanted to woo her, to be sweet and treat her like she deserves and she…Natalie you idiot. Why did she feel the need to divulge one of her deepest secrets to a man she literally just told she cared for? God, that mulled wine did a number on her. What he must think of her…she looks to her left and unplugs her phone from the charger with every intent of texting him and apologizing for her behavior but before she can her screen lights back up with a notification.

Buongiorno, amore! I hope you slept well! Last night feels like a dream…one I wish to never awaken from.

Her phone vibrates again.

That is, I would like to awaken so that I might see you again.

And again.

It does not make last night any less dreamy, though.

She snorts as her gaze goes to the ceiling. Idiot. Her idiot. Clearly she hadn’t been too off-putting, then. Sitting up she scoots backwards and types.

Morning, Copia. Thanks again for being so lovely last night <3

She types out her next thought, then hesitates.

I slept with your necklace on last night to keep you close to me. Is that weird?

Ehh…now that is off-putting. She moves her thumb to delete the text and ends up hitting the send button instead.

“Shitting fuck!” Natalie flings herself back down onto the mattress and groans with her eyes scrunched shut. Great. Now not only is she a virgin, she’s a cringe little simp too. Her phone vibrates but it takes another couple of minutes before she gets the courage to look at what she’s wrought. Finally she cracks one eye open and glances at her screen.

Dolcezza. My dolcezza…you are too kind to this old man, I don’t deserve you but I adore you.

The candidness of his words makes her melt, curling into the covers to hunch over her phone. I don’t deserve you, what bullshit.

Copia, I am the very least you deserve. And I adore you back. Are you busy today?

The thought of seeing him always brought butterflies to her stomach but now they feel a little more exciting.

Nope! Yesterday was the start of the holiday, remember?

Shit, that’s right. They both have the next two weeks off (with pay, Sister Imperator graciously informed her, much to her shock) and this was after she already had some time off to celebrate the holidays with her family. Truly she couldn’t imagine a better gig.

Duh, sorry! If you have a chance today, I’d love to see you. No pressure though!

Was she being too needy? They did just confess their feelings for one another last night. The quickness with which her phone vibrates again makes her jolt.

Amore mio, I am already on my way to your quarters xxx

The goofy, dreamy smile that blooms on Natalie’s face disappears with alarming speed. Shit! He’s on his way!

She practically falls out of bed after flinging the covers back and immediately shudders at how fucking cold her room is. Quickly, she strips and fumbles through her drawers for some fresh clothes. Something casual but not too casual…wait. Hold the fucking bus. She looks down at her phone again to check the time.

8:54 AM

Growling, Natalie slams her dresser drawer. If she was meeting Copia at this time pre-events of last night she’d throw on a pair of leggings and a big cropped shirt and call it good. So that’s exactly what she’s going to do right now. He didn’t fall for her perfectly coiffed and styled, he fell for her being a hot mess. She never had to wear a mask in front of him before and she’s not about to start. Not after some of the shit he’s heard come out of her mouth up to and including last night. 

Anyway.

The shirt she picks is soft and well-loved, the gold grucifix he gifted her last night catching the light on her clavicle. Before leaving her room she gives herself a couple of spritzes of perfume and grabs her phone. She barely has a minute to yawn in her living room when there’s a soft knock at her door. She counts for five giddy seconds before walking over and opening it and giving the man before her a sleepy smile. He’s wearing what she has come to know as his “leisure clothes”, still sporting his paints despite the fact that it’s early and he’s off duty. 

“Buongiorno,” he says softly, hands fidgeting.

“Hey,” Natalie murmurs, her smile widening. The two of them stand on the threshold in silence for almost a minute when he lunges at her. The action makes her gasp but any sound from her mouth is muffled when he slots his own over it. She’s content to let him lick into her mouth for a moment, his gloved hands gripping at her waist when she comes to a realization and shoves him off her.

“Oh gross,” she backs away and he looks horrified as if he’s done something terribly wrong, “It’s not you! I forgot to brush my teeth, shit. Sorry, sorry - give me a minute!”

He says something but she doesn’t hear it as she dashes back into her room and takes care of business, snorting at the way she’s once again smeared with his lip paint as she scrubs. After she finishes, she takes a moment to clean the black marks off her lips before returning to her living room. He still dutifully stands there, hands behind his back.

“Eh–mmph!”

Natalie doesn’t give him the opportunity to say whatever he wants to say because in two strides she’s launched herself into his arms and latched her lips onto his. Gripping the sides of his red velour jacket she pulls him towards her couch until his legs bump up against it and with an inelegant shove she pushes him down onto the cushions. The way he looks up at her, hair tousled and mismatched eyes filled with adoration, makes her heart feel like it’s about to burst. She cups his face in her hands, running her thumbs over his freckled cheekbones.

“Copia…Copia I think I lo–”

A sharp - infuriatingly sharp - knock rings out in the room. Natalie growls, her hands dropping from Copia’s face and her heart sinks at the way his shoulders sag. Another knock rings out and she exhales through her nose.

“Sorry,” she murmurs to Copia before making her way to the door and opening it. It’s all she can do to not spit out a terse “what?” at the person standing there. The word is halfway out her mouth when Terzo gives her a goofy grin.

“Buongiorno, bella! You slipped away from us last night and oh, how we missed you. I…”

Terzo trails off and Natalie realizes that in that short amount of time Copia has sidled up next to her, a frosty expression on his face as he wraps an arm around her waist. She gives him a curious look before looking back to Terzo, whose idiotic grin has somehow gotten even wider.

“Well, well, well now this is a surprise, eh? Congratulazioni to you both…”

Copia’s arm tenses around her as Terzo’s attention returns to her.

“So…how can I help you, Terzo?”

“Ah…right. The book you told me about last night…?”

She vaguely remembers recommending something to him and hums aloud before breaking free of Copia’s grip and walking over to her bookcase. The tension between the Papa and his Cardinal is palpable and she grabs the title and hustles back over to the door.

“Here you go. Uh…thanks for welcoming me to your celebration last night. It was lovely.”

He makes an amused noise.

“And productive too, I see. Well we’ll speak again soon, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Be safe and ah, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Ciao bella. Ciao Cardinal.”

Natalie gives him a tight smile before shutting the door and turning to her companion.

“Bit possessive for less than twenty-four hours in, no?” she says with a sly smile. Copia turns an impressive shade of red and takes a step back from her.

“I-I…I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

She had only meant to tease him but it’s clear she’s struck a nerve.

“Don’t be,” she says gently, moving towards him to place her hands on his chest, “You know how I like to fuck with you. And honestly…it was hot.”

The journey his face goes on makes her laugh out loud before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“That being said, what was that about?”

He lets out a noise in between a groan and a sigh.

“Eh…it’s a long story.”

“Hmm, well last I checked we’ve got the next two weeks off so by all means,” Natalie gestures to the couch, “Enlighten me.”

The two of them nestle into the plump cushions, Copia looking apprehensive. She scoots closer to him and slings her leg into his lap, grabbing his hands and holding them in hers. He looks down at their entwined fingers and he smiles softly before letting out a sigh.

“Terzo and I have always had a…well, I don’t think it’s necessarily accurate to call it a rivalry. He’s always found charming people easy whereas I…have always struggled. It started when I was in my late teens at the abbey in Roma - Terzo was a little older and had already taken his vows. There was this boy. Paolo. He was new at the abbey and I was smitten as soon as I saw him. Blonde hair in ringlets that would catch the light…ah dolcezza. And what a voice he had, always standing out in the choir. I was desperate to spend time around him, would accept any scrap of attention he gave me. This went on for months and months, me trailing behind him like a puppy. One day I worked up the courage to make a move and told myself I would approach him at a party that evening. I put on my nicest outfit, oh you should have seen me, Natalia. My mustache barely there. I thought I looked so dapper. I walked into the party and spotted his blonde curls over by the couch as he was draped on someone else. My heart…stopped. And when I saw who it was he was kissing…well. I’m sure you can guess, eh?”

“Jesus, Copia,” Natalie breathes, squeezing his hand. “That is…incredibly fucked up.”

He nods. “But the worst part was Terzo knew how I felt about him. He knew and he still did it anyway. I cried myself to sleep every night for a week after that. Terzo had the nerve to approach me and tell me that I was ‘too good for him anyway’. Figlio di puttana…I swung on him. Right there in the cloister for everyone to see. The little bastard rat hitting an Emeritus brother. Secondo eventually pulled me off him but I did my damage. In more ways than one - Paolo had seen the whole thing. Wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore and eventually asked for a transfer to Puglia. I never saw him again.”

He gives her a sad smile.

“Needless to say it wasn’t the first time that would happen. And Terzo would always say ‘you were too good for them, topolino, they don’t deserve you’. Well it would have been fucking nice to learn for myself, huh? When I left the Roma abbey at twenty-one and was sent abroad I was finally able to come into my own. So eh. Now you understand why I acted…the way I acted. Mi dispiace.”

“Don’t apologize,” Natalie says softly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I…I get it. We all have our trauma about relationships. I’ll tell you about mine in a minute but I do have to tell you this now…Terzo knew how I felt about you. Saw it almost immediately. Always encouraged me to approach you or spend time with you even when I felt self conscious about it. I can’t speak to his motivations when you were younger but I think he wanted us to get here. I mean, is it selfish and fucked up of me to want to thank him for getting you here?”

Copia nuzzles into her palm before turning his head and placing a kiss there.

“No, tesoro. I don’t think so. And…” he pauses, thoughtful, “Perhaps Terzo knew none of those people were meant for me. Ah, that’s silly.” He shakes off the thought and leans over to kiss her on the forehead before looking at her with a cocked head.

“I..I suppose you want to hear my tale then?”

Natalie’s hand slips from his face and he nods.

“Only if you wish to share it.”

A deep gut-wreching sigh comes out of her and her hands fall to her lap.

“So, um. Middle school right? I was twelve. Odd…odd kid. Didn’t really have any friends, just a lot of people I hung around. Anyway, this new girl starts at my school in my grade. Hayley. She was the most beautiful thing I’d seen - long blonde hair, tall, big blue eyes. And here’s the thing - she was nice to me. Liked me even! I couldn’t believe my luck and I was infatuated. I didn’t even know I liked girls until that point but she was special. So we became friends - best friends, even - and would constantly spend time at each other’s houses. Her parents had a pool so the summer before 8th grade I was always over at her place. One day we’re alone in the water and…Christ, I don’t know what I was thinking…I lean in and peck her on the lips. She freaks out. Starts calling me the nastiest names. Some words I didn’t even know until I heard them coming from her. We get out of the pool and she tells me I have to go home but wouldn’t let me use their phone to call my mom to come pick me up. So I walked home. In my sopping wet bathing suit and flip flops and no towel I walked almost two miles to my house. Jesus, I could’ve been…ugh. Anyway I finally get home to my parents who were flipping out thinking something had happened to me and I just collapsed in the driveway, crying. Sat there on the hot pavement and sobbed and sobbed and told them everything. So you know how it goes, my mom is fucking furious and calls her mom to scream at her for what she did to me, Hayley’s mom screams back calling me some choice fucking slurs. Distinctly remember hearing ‘fat little dyke’ shouted from the receiver. Meanwhile I’m just in my room petrified because I know she’s going to tell everyone when school starts again. Devastated because my only friend whom I adored now was disgusted with me and wanted nothing to do with me. It’s…” for the first time, Nataile’s voice breaks, “It’s not fucking right for a little girl to go through that, you know? My parents saw the writing on the wall and immediately sent me to therapy but nothing could have prepared me for the first day of school. Kids ignoring me I could handle but their cruelty? Their mockery? I hid in the bathroom every day just fucking suffering. Whenever I saw Hayley it was like a knife in my gut. Finally it…got to a bad point. Like, a really bad point. I almost…anyway. I finally told my parents what was going on and they transferred me to a new school. But, you know, the damage was done.”

Natalie reaches up to wipe her tears with a derisive little laugh. Copia makes soft fretting noises at her and raises her hand to his lips to pepper it with kisses.

“Amore…I have no words. No words to describe how…crudele. Children can be so vicious. And for her parents to say such awful things about anyone let alone a child…” he lets out a low growl, “I am so sorry. My bellissima Natalia…”

“Wow this is not how I pictured this morning going,” she says with a harsh bark of laughter, sniffling, “Thought we’d have a little makeout session on the couch then go get some breakfast but you know, here we are. Trauma time.”

He chuckles and the sound warms her heart.

“Thank you for listening,” she whispers before leaning forward to nestle herself in his lap. “Thank you for always listening, my love.”

Her ear is pressed to his chest and she hears the rumble of one of his little noises.

“And you, amore. We make quite a pair, no?”

Natalie snorts inelegantly.

“What, two traumatized, autistic, bisexual bitches?”

Copia lets out a strangled noise and his chest shakes as he dissolves into laughter with his eyes closed. She leans up and pecks a kiss onto his jaw.

“So…breakfast?”

“Excellent idea,” Copia says, groaning as she shifts off of him and into a standing position. She takes his hands and hauls him off the couch, still holding on even after he’s up.

“Promise me you’ll tell me about these someday?” she says, gesturing to his gloves. He shifts to his other foot and gnaws on his lower lip.

“Eh…yes. Another long story for another time.”

Natalie senses his discomfort and she has no desire to press the issue. Instead she presses her hand to the small of his back and steers him towards the door.

“Trying to get rid of me, tesoro?”

“Hardly,” she says, opening the door and urging him out, “I wanna get down to the dining hall while there’s still donuts.”

—

The rest of the morning is deliciously lazy, with the two of them lingering over their meal long past anyone else. They’ve gotten more than one curious look from a passing sibling, whose eyes flick from their clasped hands to the way she gazes at him, resting her face on her propped up hand. She continues to pick at her scrambled eggs long after they’ve gone cold, content to listen to him ramble (the current topic is medieval Satanic mystics.) He’s filled with such a wealth of knowledge it honestly leaves her in awe, as well as makes her a little giddy to know she has access to him and his beautiful, silly brain whenever she likes. Hers. He’s hers. Natalie’s eyes trace the hollows of his eyes, masked by black paint, down the length of his long nose, across the spattering of freckles on his cheeks and down to his lips. His plump, soft lips and the way they felt molded to hers. The way he had her pressed against the stone wall of that empty corridor, groaning into her mouth and fisting her hair, his thigh slotted between her legs to press right up against her–

“Natalia? Did you hear what I said?”

“Mmm…h-huh what? Sorry?”

The last word comes out of Natalie’s mouth a little loud and very panicked and Copia cocks his head at her, looking alarmed. She clears her throat and smiles sheepishly at him, hoping to God and Satan he didn’t notice her looking at him like that.

“I asked what you would like to do for the rest of the day?”

“I–oh! Uh…what time is it?”

He looks down at his watch.

“Almost 11.”

She rubs her eyes. While she might have slept well last night, all of a sudden she’s bone tired. Rehashing horrible life events will do that, she supposes.

“How do you feel about going back to bed?”

Now it’s Copia’s turn to look panicked.

“What bed? Your bed?”

“Yeah, we can nap for a few hours then…I don’t know. Watch TV. Take a walk. Whatever.”

“A nap, right,” he laughs, eyes darting, “Ah…I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dolcezza.”

A sinister little grin unfurls on her lips.

“Oh yeah? Don’t trust me? Think I’m going to take advantage of you?”

His face flushes so fast she’s honestly impressed.

“N-not quite eh…cazzo. Diavoletta mia, you are making this very difficult.”

“Oh that’s a new one,” Natalie murmurs, running a fingernail over his knuckles. “Diavoletta mia, I like that.”

He gives her a pained look, one that tells her how desperately he’s holding back right now and it makes her ache. All he needs to do is say the word and she’d let him have her. He’s held her mind and soul in the palm of his hand for months now, to give him her body would be her honor. And pleasure. But instead she smiles gently at him, knowing how badly he wants to treat her right. She loves him for it but goddamn her vibrator is going to be exhausted in the meantime.

“You know I’m just giving you a hard time, right?” She winces at her choice of word and judging from the way his eye twitches, so does he, so she redirects. “C’mon, let’s grab a couple more donuts for later then go get some rest, huh?”

The trip back to her quarters is uneventful, both hands occupied with clutching her prized donuts wrapped in napkins, which she deposits on the counter of her kitchenette. Copia hasn’t said a peep since they left the dining hall and it’s got her anxious, worried that her suggestive behavior earlier was off-putting. 

“Hey,” she murmurs, raising her hand to lightly grasp at his bicep and run her thumb over the muscle lovingly, “What’s on your mind?”

“Eh, n-nothing, nothing. I’m fine, dolcezza.”

He’s not, and she knows he’s not, but she doesn’t interrogate him further. Instead she takes him by the hand and drags him to the doorway of her bedroom.

“I think some well-deserved rest will do us both good, my love.” His mustache twitches in a smile at the endearment which makes her feel relieved.

“Do you want to…um…” she gestures at his eye paint and he looks like a startled deer once again.

“I–yes. Yes, of course. My paints.”

Disengaging from him she walks to her linen closet and procures a washcloth which he takes and shuffles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Natalie sighs and rubs her eyes before throwing her mussed covers back and climbing into bed. Her phone gets plugged in before she settles on her side with her back facing the bathroom. Minutes go by - she’s not sure how many - and she opens her mouth to holler her concern at him but ultimately stops herself. The door opens quietly almost a minute later but she doesn’t turn to look at him, instead waiting for him to round the other side of the bed. When he does, she muffles a gasp at his wonderfully bare face. He nudges his shoes off and removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in a short-sleeved black t-shirt and his gloves. She’s overwhelmed - he might as well be stark naked before her for all the pale, freckled flesh she sees - holding her breath as he silently peels the covers back and climbs into bed next to her. He settles on his back, staring at the beams on the ceiling and clenching his jaw. She scoots her body nearer to him, and places her fingers on his chin to tilt his face in her direction. He obligingly shifts onto his side, eyes darting everywhere but her gaze.

“Copia,” Natalie whispers, taking in his deep-set eyes, the dark circles normally masked by black paint, and the long brown eyelashes, “you’re beautiful.”

He sucks in a breath and blinks at her, lips parted and pink from where he scrubbed the lipstick off.

“Amore…you…” he sighs heavily, “why do you care for this old man?”

She wants to make a joke about hierophilia but can tell from his face this is not the time. So she settles for raw honesty.

“Copia…how could I not? After all the ways you’ve shown you care for me, how could I feel any other way about you? I—“

Natalie can feel a lump forming in her throat so she distracts herself by raising her hand and tracing his crows feet and lines in his forehead.

“Copia, I don’t know of a better way to say this because I’ve never said it before but…I love you. I love everything about you - your mind, your wrinkles, your mustache. The grey in your hair and the way your ass looks in your cassocks,” he chokes out a laugh and leans into her touch, “Your kindness. Your infinite patience with me. The way you’re looking at me right now. I know we just…I don’t know became an item last night but…Copia you have to know I’ve loved you all along.”

Her tears are flowing freely at this point, sliding down her cheeks to soak her pillow and he brings a hand to the back of her head to draw her further towards him. Gently he kisses the salty trails on her cheeks, lips reverently brushing over her features. He addresses her softly by name - not an endearment - and presses his forehead to hers.

“Ti amo, ti amo, ti amo,” he murmurs hoarsely, “You are my everything. Tu sei la mia anima. My world. Thank you.”

Natalie’s not sure how long he cradles her face - long after her tears have dried - and when he finally pulls away she feels both incredibly full and incredibly empty. He rolls onto his back and gently pulls her against him, her chin tucked into his shoulder and hand on his chest.

“Today was a lot,” she murmurs, tracing designs into his pectoral.

“Natalia mia,” he says and she can hear his smile, “The day is not over yet. It’s not even noon.”

She groans and smacks him playfully, feeling him shake with laughter beneath her.

“Stop laughing at me and go to sleep, Cardinal Copia.”

He sighs, leather-clad fingers running through her dark curls.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, amore. Your company is far too enjoyable to be unconscious in it.”

It takes all of five more minutes before he starts snoring and Natalie grins, her face pressed against him.

Oh, to be wooed by a Satanic cardinal.

[zhjsgda]

The U.S. Healthcare System’s Incompetence During the COVID-19 Pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic revealed the severe shortcomings of the United States healthcare system, a system that prides itself on advanced medical technology but fails to provide universal healthcare to its citizens. With over 1.2 million deaths, the pandemic exposed the gaps between the wealthiest and most vulnerable Americans, the fragmented public health response, and the systemic flaws in the healthcare infrastructure. The failures were not just limited to healthcare facilities but extended to government management, policy decisions, and public health communications, all of which contributed to the devastating toll.

At the onset of the pandemic, the U.S. government was slow to respond. Testing shortages, a lack of coordination between states and the federal government, and mixed messaging created chaos. Early on, the Trump administration minimized the severity of the virus, calling it a “hoax” and repeatedly downplaying the need for protective measures. As the virus spread, American hospitals were overwhelmed, particularly in New York and California, where healthcare facilities struggled with high numbers of patients, limited ventilators, and a shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE).

Despite having the resources to mount a more effective response, the U.S. struggled with a basic issue of access. Healthcare is a business in the United States, and this model clashed with the immediate needs of an emergency response. The lack of a centralized healthcare system meant that medical supplies and assistance were not always distributed in the most equitable way. States like New York and California, with higher rates of infection, struggled to get the supplies they needed while others were more prepared.

Compounding the issues, there was a failure to enact a unified national response. Instead, states were left to create their own policies, which led to a patchwork of measures, ranging from statewide lockdowns to states rejecting mask mandates altogether. As public health officials like Dr. Anthony Fauci advocated for science-based strategies, the political pressure to reopen businesses grew, leading to confusion and delays in implementing measures that could have saved lives.

The failure of the healthcare system was not solely due to government mismanagement; it was also an inherent flaw in a profit-driven system. The health insurance industry, pharmaceutical companies, and private healthcare providers profit from treating sickness rather than preventing it. During the pandemic, this model led to inflated drug prices, restricted access to life-saving medications, and made the healthcare system more inefficient in dealing with an emergency of this magnitude. The private sector’s inability to coordinate with the public health sector exacerbated the crisis.