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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

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Stuck With You

Sebastian quarantines with you, his co-star, when he feels like you shouldn’t be left alone. When you’re asked to be in a virtual music video, he finally lets a secret slip out.

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, looking at your friend, Sebastian. He doubted you, clearly, because he was crossing his arms and paying more attention to you than the food on his plate.

“I don’t want you in that house alone,” he said. “North Hollywood’s not a great neighborhood, you don’t have a dog or a security system, and I really don’t like the idea of leaving you alone for this long.” He was right. North Hollywood wasn’t great, and you knew that. Your roommate had moved out so there was a second bedroom and bathroom, and there was definitely enough room for him.

“I’m 22, Seb, I don’t need a babysitter.” You knew he didn’t mind staying there and you secretly wanted him to because he was one of your best friends, even with such a big age gap, and you kind of liked him too. And the fact that he was willing to quarantine himself with you for an indefinite amount of time was, well, your dream. It was better than flying home to see your parents in the middle of a pandemic even if tickets were half of what they normally cost.

“I’m not going to babysit you, if I wanted to do that I would’ve gotten you a juice box instead of a beer.” He had paid for your lunch, since you paid for his coffee that morning, and he had gotten you a beer because you looked like you needed it. And after deciding to stay here instead of go home, you definitely needed it.

“Thank you, Seb, but you really don’t have to.”

“So you’re telling me you want to be alone?” You shook your head, violently.

“No. I just don’t want you to get stuck anywhere you don’t want to.” He chuckled as the check for your food came.

“You are the only person I would want to be stuck with right now. And, besides, if you’re not flying out I probably shouldn’t either. I’ll leave whenever you want me to, but just let me be with you for a few days.” You sighed and crossed your arms against your chest.

“Fine. But you’re paying for the first grocery run.” He grinned. You’d gotten put with him over the last press tour, so you knew that he was a scheming mastermind even if he didn’t look like it. He probably had something up his sleeve.

“Then I’ll meet you with my stuff later tonight.”

Later that night he was there, parking his car in the short driveway, and brought in a massive amount of groceries as well as his bags because he’d checked out of his long term Airbnb (he should really buy a house out there, but he always said New York was home). He was your savior – he’d gotten multiples of all your favorite snacks, including your favorite Australian cookie that was very hard to find for no reason, and three bags of the chips he knew you could get through a full bag of in ten minutes.

“I didn’t get anything to really cook with because I know you like to Postmate in,” he explained as you started putting everything away. He smiled when he realized how excited you were about all of the snacks.

“You’re the best,” you said, walking over to him and giving him a hug. He smiled and messed up your hair before going upstairs to put his bags away and move them into the empty room. Truth be told, he did kind of have an ulterior motive for quarantining. His mission was to make you fall in love with him because he knew about the puppy crush you tried so hard to hide. He was your best friend. He knew you better than almost anyone else, except for your mom, and he knew it wouldn’t be difficult if you were truly stuck there.

For the first few days, things were good. You two became vegetables on the couch, forcing him to re-watch Gossip Girl even though he was in it because you’d never seen it before. Then you’d binged all of the Harry Potter, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings movies. He would go to the neighborhood gym in the mornings, until it closed, and then he would just go on runs. The only times you were really alone were when he was going on a run. You would go get groceries every now and then, but for the most part you were planted on the couch. Your head would always fall on his shoulder or into his lap if you were laying down and you thought nothing of it. You just liked being close to him and he liked being close to you.

The first interruption came after three weeks. It was the beginning of April and you’d been locked up for so long that you had a breakdown. You just started crying, out of nowhere, and he had no idea what was going on at first. You never really cried in front of him, or in front of anyone. Without even thinking about it, he rushed forward and gave you a hug.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, pulling your hair out of your face. It was just a reflex.

“Nothing, I just… I honestly don’t know why I’m crying. I just hate being so locked up and feeling like I’m going to get sick every time I have allergy problems, and…”

“Okay, breathe, first of all,” he suggested. You took a deep breath that matched his, and after two or three you were just sniffling like it would pull the tears back into your eyes. “Good girl. Now start over.” He brought you over to the couch and you sat down beside him.

“What if one of us gets sick? Or what if this lasts for so long that they just drop the movie and we’re both out of jobs, or what if I just lose my job and I can’t…” He looked at you in a way that nobody else ever had and it made you stop in your tracks. “I’m just worried.”

“Don’t be, alright? I’m here as long as you want me here.” You sniffled and wiped the tears from your cheek with a t-shirt you’d found in the laundry room. On second thought, it was his. And you didn’t even think anything of it because why would you?

Things were different after that. Just the way he’d looked at you made you feel… like even if things didn’t get better, you weren’t alone. He carried you up the stairs to his bedroom that night, not wanting to go to the third floor where your room was, and slept on the other side of the bed so close to the edge that he probably would have fallen off. You woke up, wondering why you were wrapped in the blanket that belonged in the den, and looked over. He was there still, sleeping soundly, but you knew how close he was to the edge. So you pulled him by the t-shirt, half asleep, until he turned over. He opened his eyes just enough to see that you had done it and that you were still asleep. He smiled and went back, too.

You woke up the next morning in the middle of his bed, not the side he didn’t sleep on, and you could hear music from your Alexa in the kitchen. You decided to clean up a little bit because you looked like a complete mess, and after taking a quick shower you walked down to smell that he had been making breakfast and singing along to bad 80’s pop songs.

“You look happy,” you said, almost like you were accusing him of something, and your eyebrow raised when you saw that he was making pancakes. From scratch. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, sweetheart!” He said over the music. You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit, sitting down at the counter because you didn’t quite know how to help. You barely knew how to use the electric oven since you’d had gas your whole life.

“Are there enough for two?” You counted a stack of five already done pancakes and the rest of the bacon that was about to go bad, but you knew Sebastian could eat.

“Duh!” He looked at you like it was obvious. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you to your room last night, I got tired after one flight of stairs. You’re heavier than you look.”

“Hey!”

“Kidding. You’re gorgeous and you know it.” You could feel yourself blushing and to hide it, you turned away and got out two glasses. “Mimosas? At 9 AM on a Tuesday?” You shrugged.

“Bombs away, bitch,” you said as you poured it. He took one anyway, clinking your glasses together before putting the food onto separate plates for you.

“By the way, I have the interview later, the virtual one,” he reminded you. “Can I use your room? It’s the only white wall besides in the stairwell.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you responded. “Am I allowed in the room?”

“If you want to be. You just have to be quiet though.”

“I’m a quiet person!”

“Sure you are.” You absolutely devoured the food he made and helped him clean everything up. Then he took off to take a shower and find some decent clothes to wear for his interview. He’d finished another movie two weeks before coming to L.A. to work on the movie you two were doing, and both press tours had gotten cut short. Every few days one of you would have an interview to do, or a Zoom call to get on. Most people hadn’t seemed to catch on that you were together, and if they did you knew the first thing they would suspect is that the two of you were together together. You wouldn’t mind, you realized after a few days of being with him. He was slowly starting to grow on you even more – you came to have very strong feelings for the crow’s feet in his eyes, the way he would sing terribly on purpose, and the way he wasn’t afraid to tell you embarrassing stories from his childhood.

You climbed the stairs and made sure Sebastian wasn’t on his interview yet when you climbed onto the bed, out of sight from his camera, and started answering posts on social media and emails like you did almost every morning.

“Does my hair look okay?” He asked, looking over at you. “I have thirty seconds.”

“It looks fine,” you answered. His hair was slightly disheveled, but cute anyway. He was so cute. Ugh, you thought, great. I have a crush on my co-star who was in high school when I was in diapers. He grinned and went back to his interview, starting the camera as soon as it turned noon.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Sebastian asked the interviewer as they came on. “I’m great, thank you.”

“Are you quarantined yet, what’s the situation?” Sebastian glanced up at you and then chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, I’m quarantined in Los Angeles right now, I didn’t feel like it was safe to head back to New York and my co-star had an extra room so I begged her to take me in. It’s pretty slow, we’ve probably spent a few hundred dollars on renting movies at this point, but we’re both healthy as far as we can tell, so we’re good.” It was really the only time he mentioned you, but the entire interview, you were nervous for him. Just in case the question came up again, you remained extra quiet as you typed out emails. One caught your eye, though, and it was from your agent.

It was asking you and Sebastian to be part of a celebrity cameo – halfway to promote the movie, halfway to promote the song – in the new Ariana Grande and Justin Bieber video. About a hundred other people had been asked to record a ten to fifteen second-long clip of dancing with someone, preferably slow dancing. Internally, you were screaming. Of course you wanted to, even if it was just a friends-helping-friends thing. But it was another chance to be close to him and you absolutely wanted that. So you said yes, that you’d con Sebastian into it, and that you’d have the video for them tomorrow.

“Alright, thank you, man! Enjoyed talking to you!” Sebastian was saying his goodbyes on the interview, and even after he turned the camera off, he held his fingers to his lips for a second to make sure it was over before shutting his laptop.

“That went well,” you said.

“I know, right? I thought maybe I’d forget how to do press stuff, but maybe not. Why are you smiling like an idiot?” He flopped down on your bed close to you and you turned the computer toward him to let him read. He read it a few times before looking back at you.

“I told them we’d do it. It’s good press.”

“Fine,” he said. “Come on.” He pulled your laptop off your lap and dragged you downstairs, making sure he had his phone since the camera was better.

“We don’t have to do it now!” You said as he tried to find some place to put the camera. You could just do it in front of the door, you decided, and helped prop it up.

“Alexa, play slow 90’s music!” He commanded. He dragged you over to where he was, taking your hand. Don’t Dream It’s Over started playing right away, which wasn’t a terrible song to dance to.

“You face the camera, I look awful,” you said, looking down at the shorts and t-shirt you were in. He smirked.

“I look worse. Come on, just dance with me, I already hit record.” You looked down for a minute. It was just like acting, right? You looked back up when he put his arm around your waist and pulled you toward him. He had that look in his eyes again and you were glued to them, a stupid smile on your face as he forced you to dance with him. You had taken dance classes, you knew what you were doing, but with him you were tripping over your own feet.

“Stop laughing at me!” You said, laughing yourself. “I think the clip is probably long enough.”

“What if I wanted to keep doing this, though?” His eyes were begging you not to leave, so you didn’t. You found yourself unable to look anywhere else. The idea of the phone recording you went away, the idea that you were tripping over him went away. The song changed to Linger by the Cranberries, and maybe it was the slow guitar and the backing orchestra that made it, but you could have sworn that Sebastian was looking at you like… He leaned slightly closer, like he was about to say something.

“Ah, fuck it.” He closed the gap between you and you stopped, bracing yourself with your hands in his shirt, and his hand moved to your face to hold you there as he kissed you. He actually kissed you. And he didn’t stop.

You got me wrapped around your finger, the song said, and it wasn’t wrong. You tugged him closer and closer, unable to keep from smiling, and eventually he just faded into laughter too. But he didn’t let you go, even when you couldn’t control it anymore.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time,” he admitted with a grin.

“Yeah,” you responded. “Me too.” You leaned your head into his chest and you just stood there for what felt like hours, even after Sebastian had told the Alexa to stop playing music.

“We should probably talk about it, though, right?” He asked finally, pulling away from you. You nodded, knowing he was right, and took his phone off of record. The video was five minutes long. You’d been standing there for five minutes. It felt like both forever and no time at all.

“I like you,” he said as you handed him his phone back. “I really, really like you, and I get it if you don’t because there’s such a big age gap and it might be weird to you, but I think you’re amazing, Y/n.” You took a moment before you answered.

“Is it a little weird? Yeah, maybe, but maybe it’s not. I like you too, I have for awhile, and I just didn’t tell you because I figured you wouldn’t feel the same way. But I guess I was wrong.” He looked down, smiling.

“So if I’d said that right at the beginning of quarantine we’d be in a pretty different place right now, huh?” You nodded.

“I guess. But we know now, and… Do you wanna do this, Seb?”

“Yeah. I really do. I’m sorry I can’t take you out on a date or whatever, but…” You put your arms around him again.

“Just send me the videos and give me some time to change. I can order some food and we can make it seem like a real date?” He smiled and leaned down, fully kissing you again.

“Sounds good. I’ll give you a good hour.” You turned away from him and went up the stairs, sending the video back. You told them to use whatever part of it they wanted after cutting out the part where you were talking.

A few days later, you both curled up on the couch to watch the video premiere. Halfway through, for a few seconds, there was the video where he stopped dancing and leaned down to kiss you. Sebastian looked over at you, smiling, and pulled you in as you continued to watch the video.

“There’s absolutely no one I would rather be stuck with,” he repeated, remembering what he’d said almost two months ago now.

A/N: I hope the anon likes it as much as I do! I loved writing this so much!

#sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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prorevenge · 5 years

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I end up working for the scammer who conned my parents.

So, this tale starts twelve years ago in 2007. Both my parents had retired at the same time and had received a large cash lump sum and would have a decent pension income for the rest of their lives. Dad was ex-Army, doing his national service and staying for another 8 years before travelling the world. He served with the Royal Engineers and moved into an engineering/maintenance role when he returned to the civillian life. Mum was a teacher, and with careful savings and multiple pensions they had more money coming in individually than I did in a salary.

The first thing they did was to renovate their house. They got several quotes for new windows, some minor building work, a new kitchen and a block-paved driveway. I helped them with researching the companies involved and with all the information at hand, they settled on a local company that we'll call Bad Company. Bad Company had membership of all the relevant professional bodies, had some good feedback and importantly was not the cheapest but their sales guy explained to my parents why a cheaper quote wasn't always better. They agreed on the £35k work and paid a 10% deposit. Work started, and they weren't asked for a single penny more until it had been completed. There were a couple of minor snags which were easily corrected, and it went £500 over budget due to the bad drainage of the house (something that had been mentioned before) but it looked satisfactory.

As it turned out, the windows had massive gaps in them that leaked water when it rained and you could actually hear the wind whistling through. Heating became expensive. Within a month, weeds and grass started poking through the block paved driveway and the electical work that was done in the new kitchen caused blown fuses if both ovens and the hob were turned on together. If you touched the plate around the light switch, you'd get an electric shock. After three months, water burst through the newly laid kitchen floor and the "Secured By Design" doors could simply be lifted out of their frame even when locked. We also noticed that they keys to the new doors were not the originals, and they were extremely difficult to lock especially as both parents had arthritis. The icing on the cake was that most of the windows were supposed to be argon filled, but the seals had already blown allowing air inside and condensation on the inside was apparent.

Dad asked a friend, Bob, to estimate the extra cost of fixing it. Bob said that to correct the now evident defects would cost nearly £20k as almost everything would have to be ripped out and re-done. Dad immediately contacted Bad Company, and the guy they sent round was rude, arrogant and blamed everything on the builders who had originally constructed the house doing a bad job. He wrote a report stating that none of the defects were down to the work carried out as the work had been done according to current best practices. That evening, one of the window frames fell out.

Dad spent a month after that trying to get Bad Company back to fix the issues, then he called all the regulatory bodies to find that Bad Company wasn't a member but just used the membership logos on their documentation. Around a year after the work was originally completed, Bad Company simply vanished. Phone numbers were disconnected emails bounced back and their office was now a conservatory showroom. Dad had already paid a well estabished window company £3k to fix the immediate window and door issues, and was left to pay another (much better) company £22k to fix the issues. This time we checked everything and made sure they were registered. We even got a warranty.

Cut to 2018, and I'm looking for a new job. Dad passed away quite unexpectedly in 2015 and Mum wasn't too good either (although she's a lot better now) so I needed a job closer to her house than the 2 hour commute to the next city that I currently had. As luck would have it, a local kitchen manufacturing company (lets call them Local Kitchens) was looking to expand and wanted an IT technician/developer. The pay was about £1k more a year than I was currently making, but I didn't have to spend £500 a month travelling to and from work (busses and trains are expensive). I interviewed, liked what I heard, and was accepted for the role. All the time, I thought that I somehow knew the boss of Local Kitchens.

Having worked in factory environments before, I arrived in a hi-viz vest, toecapped boots and with my own ear defenders. No-one else wore any P.P.E. - not even masks and goggles. When all the machinery ran, the factory floor hummed and buzzed along at a noise level of 105dB, well over the required minimum for wearing ear defenders or plugs. The boss, who we'll call John, also attempted to cut corners everywhere. My workstation was barely powerful enough to run the development software let alone the CAD/CAM software required. When the CPU fan died, he said that he couldn't afford to replace the fan. A new computer keyboard took 3 weeks to arrive and although we were paid on the 28th of each month, the pay was often not in the bank until 9pm, well after he had chased people who owed him money.

There were more lies that I uncovered, and bad business practices. It was like John had read a book on running a business then did the exact opposite. I spent the first six months between designing kitchens - something that I knew nothing about but suddenly fell under the remit of IT technician - maintaining the factory machines, driving the forklift (something that requires a specialist license that I don't hold) and doing IT work on his personal home computer equipment and mobile phones of him, his trophy wife, his kids and his parents. I also wrote several small computer programs, wired up the factory network, ensured that machinery could connect to the office computers and re-wrote most of the configuration for the industry specific software he used - which was not only unlicensed but also used on five separate machines despite the single (lapsed) license.

Also working at the company was Dad's friend Bob. Bob was a decade and a half older than me and had served his time "working the tools" making and fitting kitchens, bedrooms, and had spent a good fifteen years as a shopfitter on some very prestigious contracts. Bob was hired originally to do my job but he moved back to the manufacturing side when the expansion started as it was easier to employ an IT tech than it was a shopfitter. Bob had read an eulogy at Dad's funeral and was often round helping mum with bits around the house, so I knew Bob well and he looked after me at work. We got talking one day and I found out that Bob was earning less than me, even though he had a highly skilled and experienced role, and that despite being given more responsibility, John refused to pay Bob what Bob was worth.

Honestly, if Bob wasn't there, most of the knowledge was lost. Bob and I had frequently told John better ways to do key tasks, but John refused simply because there would be a small cash outlay. I should have seen the writing on the wall at that point, but no.

Running up to Christmas, John tells us all that he's giving us all a bonus, and will pay us early for the christmas to new year shutdown period. We soon discover though that the bonus was a £5 tub of sweets - which Bob can't eat because he has type 1 diabeties, and I can't eat because I have this really strange sugar allergy. I was going to mention it to John, but Bob tells me not to as it's Christmas and it will be something for my kids to enjoy. I actually ended up with three boxes of sweets because he over-ordered.

That day, despite being an IT technician, I had to chase an order with a company, order some materials from a supplier, and supervise a fitter as he attempted to install some new showroom units. John is nowhere to be found until just as we're about to leave. He asked Bob for a moment of his time and I go home.

The next day, Bob tells me that he and John talked until 7pm (an extra 3 hours) about the business. Bob was asked to invest £10k for a quick capital injection as winter is always a bad time for people buying kitchens, so income is slow but there are a number of large orders in the pipeline. Bob told him what he thought of the shady business practices and the poor management, and he said that he could walk out of this job today and be earning double before the year is out. He refused to invest. Other things were said, and Bob dropped the first bombshell, explaining that every job they did for a new client was actually making a loss. The new client had been Local Kitchens only revenue stream since mid October. Apparently John was genuinely shocked and didn't realise that it cost him £200 per hour just to run his business, jumping to £300 if the machinery is running.

The day before we're due to finish for Christmas, I get called into the nearly complete new showroom. I thought John was going to show me what needs finishing and which units need designing, but no. He's worked out the finances and states that there's only enough money to keep me on for another couple of months. He even tries to turn it around by saying that he's sorry and that I'm a good employee but the income isn't there, and he wanted to give me enough time to find something else. I felt my entire world crumble. The rest of the day was a daze, but just before I left, I overhear him ordering some materials from a supplier. His exact words were: Yes, it's John from Local Kitchens. You might have us down as Bad Company.

That's when all the pieces fell into place. It finally clicked why I knew his face. He was the one who scammed my parents.

The last day of work before Christmas arrives, and John had taken his family away over the christmas / new year period. We had to ensure that the factory was powered down, locked off and secure. No-one else wanted the responsibility so I volunteered. With only Bob and myself still left in the factory, I set about gathering evidence and investigating his finances. I already know about the losses, but digging deeper I find that the company actually has no cash flow. Everything is done on credit. His house, his wife's Range Rover, his Jaguar and several other assets are registered as company assets but they're all on finance through Local Kitchens. He owed at least £750k in credit, loans and mortgages.

Bob advised me against doing anything rash as it would only come back to me and agreed that John needed to be taught a lesson not just for the way he treated his empolyees, but for conning my parents and several others out of their life savings. Bob had found a set of files from 2005 to 2008 with customer complaints for shoddy work in the name of Bad Company. It was far too late to legally do anything about the complaints, but we could bring down John and his smug attitude. Bob suggested I read up on health and safety over christmas, and perform some observations in the new year.

January and February I spent making notes, taking photographs and researching legislation. By the time the end of February rolled around, I had a thick folder full of breaches of health and safety, environmental issues, data protection (or lack thereof) and the lack of software licensing. John was well aware of the software issue, but he said that "as long as the software keeps running, it'll be ok". I had emals from him to back this up, and requests for purchases of software and hardware that were turned down so he could dine out at fancy restaurants or stay in 4 star hotels.

My last day rolls around. I have a much better development job lined up thanks to some recruiter contacts I have, and as the current day was a Thursday and I didn't start my new job until Monday, I planned on sleeping in on Friday. John is strangely absent all day but arrives just as we're all leaving for the day. HE SAYS NOTHING as he watches me leave. I got the impression immediately that he wanted me to stay until Friday, but he said that my last day was "the end of the month" and not "Friday". Unsuprisingly, the pay is late. It's 10pm before it appears in the account.

I went to see my mum that evening and told her who my boss was, the way he simply cast me aside when he was done with me, and that I wanted to break him as revenge for the bad work and what we have always considered as a scam. Now, my mum is the sweetest lady you could ever meet, and I was completely shocked when she actually said "bury the bastard". She even let me use her garden incinerator to destroy the personal hand-written instructions that Bob and myself had created since I started. The knowledge of how to fix issues with the specialist software now only existed in our memories.

Friday rolls around, and I have no reason to get up early. My phone is ringing constantly becuase John is trying to get hold of me and it's soon evident that things are going south, rapidly. Bob sent me a text telling me that he gave John a final invoice at 8AM and walked out. Now, had this been petty revenge then the tale would have ended here with him not being able to use his business-critical unlicensed software, and hiring new people, but this is Pro revenge and my mother did tell me to "bury the bastard" so despite feeling sorry for the one other genuine employee that I had a lot of respect for, I enacted my totally legal if not a little underhanded plan.

I reported Local Kitchens and John to the Federation against Software Theft for illegal use of licensed software, giving them information regarding which software was illegally used and how. Just to be safe, I also reported them directly to those software companies too. I supplied the emails as evidence where I had explained to John that he was breaking the law by not having the correct and valid licenses.

I then called a friend at the local government Health and Safety team, reporting no fewer than thirty rule breaches, sending him the supporting images and video. One of Local Kitchens professional memberships had lapsed, but John was still using the logo on paperwork, email signatures, website and the company van, in addition to the signage on the building. I reported that to the professional body in question. I honesly considered reporting GDPR breaches, but I don't think that he had done anything that could be considered a breach.

A week later, John sent me a message stating that If I was still looking for work, he would pay me £50 per day to do "IT work" for him. It came across as if he was trying to do me a favour. I told him that I was previously on £90 per day, but as I was now a freelance contractor, the going rate was closer to £200 per day. He didn't send me another message.

Three weeks later, and the showroom saleswoman - who we'll call Jane (the one remaining staff member I respected) called me to tell me that John had closed Local Kitchens and declared bankruptcy owing nearly a million pounds. I asked about fines, and she said that Health and Safety were behind a building closure which stopped production causing the bankruptcy. In the same week, he had legal notices for illegal software.

As this unfolded, I kept Bob in the loop and Jane kept me informed. As of the start of July, the final figure for fines was levied. £932k debts to the business, £876k fines too. On that same day, purely by chance I was helping a friend deliver pizza and John placed an order My friend was driving and doing the shop work, and I was going to the door to hand the food over, so I actually got to deliver his food. He was nice enough to me when he opened the door, and stated that if I had done the extra "IT Work" for him then I wouldn't have to deliver pizza. I told him that it was what it was, and questioned the fact that there was only enough for 1 meal - didn't his wife like pizza? He told me that she'd left him and taken the kids back to her parents, and that he wasn't OK with that but he had no choice. I agreed, an then decided to twist the knife even more.

I told him that it was a good job he got rid of me when he did, because I now had a fantastic well-paid job that I'm good at, and that if I had stayed, then I would have brought myself down as well as him. That's when he realised that I had called in all the agencies that had eventually shut him down. He demanded to know why, as he had "given me everything" and "taught me how to work in the kitchen industry". I simply replied with my parents address and the year 2007. I saw the colour drain from his face as he realised that his past had caught up with him. Then I told him how much he had to pay on his pizza, and he threw £40 at me and snatched the food out of my hands, slamming the door in my face. His food was only £21.50, so I got a nice £18.50 tip from him that night.

(source) story by (/u/tac-21a)

#prorevenge #by /u/tac-21a #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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howtohero · 5 years

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After our last two guest posts were such smashing successes, every no-name with any sort of knowledge or expertise regarding anything superhuman, supernatural or supernormal, has begun flooding our inboxes with requests to use our platform to educate the masses. One of these guys is so dedicated to sharing his expertise that he has emailed us literally every day, without fail, since we started this blog over two years ago. Which is super weird because we didn’t even introduce guest posts until like a year and a half later. This guy is very dedicated. So, I guess this only goes to show that when it comes to getting your favorite hyper-educational blog to publish your work, wearing them down through repeated emails does work. So even if this guy doesn’t teach you anything, at least we’ve taught you that. So, without further ado, here’s...

#205 Teleporter Safety

by: Half-Face McGee

First off, let me head off any jokes you chuckleheads are waiting to make about me giving people teleporter-safety advice being like fishing bait giving fish lessons about staying off the hook. Yes, I was horribly disfigured in a teleporter accident. No, I don’t just have a birthmark that covers my entire face that just looks like half a face. You’d be surprised by how often I get asked that. I lost half of my face in a teleporter accident, and I’ve been spending all of my time since then trying to prevent others from making the same mistake. So yeah, come at me, tell me that me trying to speak out any of the horrors of instantaneous travel is like a tire trying ta tell you bozos not to lie down under a truck and start spinnin’ around. I know more than anybody out there on this subject, and darn it to hell, I’m going to educate you.

Teleportation may seem like a grand ol’ time. Who wouldn’t want to stand in one place, and then seconds later, be standing in a different place? Especially if that second place has got like soft pretzels or something. That sounds like a real dream I’m sure. Well it’s not, a delicious soft pretzel is not worth the negative effects atomizing yourself and hurtling your discombobulated molecules across the planet at the speed of light are bound to have. Take it from me, one face is better than half a face. Do you know I haven’t seen the left side of anything in over ten years? Teleportation cost me not only my favorite side of my face, but my superhero career, my civilian career, most of my relationships since I had to cut ties with everybody after my rather unique condition outed me to all of my supervillain enemies, the ability to wear eye patches, heck, even my first name! Do you think my first name is actually Half-Face? Because guess what! It’s not! My first name is Seamus but nobody’s called me that in 13 and a half years! Though my toothbrushes last twice as long since they’ve only got to brush half as many teeth per brushing. So that’s nice I guess. But overall I think it was a net loss!

What happened to me was that I violated the number one rule of teleportation, I didn’t make sure all of my body parts were inside of the teleporter before I shot off to the other side of the planet. The more beautiful half of my face was woefully outside of the chamber’s confines when the atomizing process began, forcing me to leave it behind so I could help my fellow superheroes fight off the latest crisis. I think it was a megalomaniacal wooly mammoth or something. Certainly nothing worth losing my second favorite eye over. Nothing is worth that. Maybe if the megalomaniacal wooly mammoth had also been a vampire or a ninja or something I could maybe see the argument. But it wasn’t. It really was not a time sensitive issue. I could have just taken a cab or something.

And still I consider myself lucky, I only got horribly mutilated. Other times I’ve seen a failure to keep all body parts inside the teleport chamber to result in split-personality clones. Unlike perfect, or even near-perfect clones, personality-split clones don’t replicate their originator completely. While they may look exactly the same on the purpose, each split-personality clone assumes only one facet of the original’s personality. What a mess. I’ve met some of you and trust me, ya can’t afford to have your personalities split in half.

However, this paramount principle is not the only way to hurt yourself while using a teleporter. Did you know that if you sneeze from thirty minute before getting into a teleporter all the way to two hours after emerging from a teleporter you run the risk of the teleporter rays in your system transfiguring your face so that it’s inside out! I’m serious I’ve got a cousin who that happened to! Inside-Out-Face McGee they call him! Disrespectful! So if you’ve got the sniffles or if you have a history of teleporter ray allergies in your family then you’d be better off taking a bus than even looking at a teleportation device of any kind!

I bet you bozos also didn’t know that you gotta make sure there’s no music around when you’re teleporting. So chuck your music device into a ravine and knock your neighbor’s boombox off of their porch and also into a ravine and make sure no one in your house is watching any of those music videos with the music in them. Might as well throw your housemates into the ravine too for good measure. Because if any music is playing while you teleport, the soundwaves are going to get spliced with your discombobulated molecules and the song will literally always be stuck in your head for the rest of your life. The soundwaves will be trapped in your brain. I’ve heard of many documented cases that I heard of where the victim of this could only have thoughts to the tune of the song they heard while teleporting. Is this the kind of madness you’re interested in? You wanna think all your thoughts to the tune of “Put on a Happy Face” from the hit Broadway musical Bye Bye Birdie? Yeah, I didn’t think so!

On a similar note, ya can’t ever have two people go into a teleporter booth at the same time. Doing so is gonna scramble the two of you together in transit and pop you out as one person on the other side of it all. There’s no telling what you’re gonna look like. There’s no telling what it’s gonna do to your brain. There’s definitely no telling what it’s gonna do to your face! But I can tell ya, it’s not going to be very pretty is it? To be completely safe from molecule-melding, you’ll need to completely sterilize any teleporters you want to us. Otherwise you can get like dirt or bugs merged into your system. And that’s gross. Try holding down a job with a fly head or dirt hands.

With all these potential side effects, which reminds me, I didn’t even mention the high probability of contracting something scientists have haphazardly decided to call “demon flu” on a whim, it’s a wonder why anybody would ever be foolish enough to even consider hopping into a teleporter. I think what everybody needs is to just slow down a little. There’s nowhere you need to be in .333 seconds. If you wanna get their quick, run or something. Or get a moped and stick a rocket on the back of it. I guarantee you that’s more safe than getting into a teleporter. What’s the big rush? Supervillains monologue(italics) that’s one of their big things! That alone gives you enough of a window to bike over to any major crime scene. Trust me kids, teleporter safety is an oxymoron, hardly anybody comes out of those things with all their body parts and all their sanity. True, the same could be said for most city busses, but at least if you’re taking a city bus you’ve got a fighting chance against the crazy people and the fast-closing doors that are liable to chop your arm off. I’d like to see any of ya fight the sensation of having every single cell in your body divvied up and bounced through the airwaves and then reconstituted until a non-thinking machine says “eh, good enough” and spits you out. Take it from me, don’t get into a teleporter.

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michael4supreme-blog · 6 years

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Late Nights/Part One: Duncan Shepherd x female!reader

summary: reader is a worker at the Shepherd foundation and when Duncan learns he isn’t Annette’s son, you offer him comfort.

warnings: none, not my gif, all credits to the owner, this sucks but there will be a second part.

A/N: I really don’t know how to use a computer sorry if there are weird letters of stuff in this:) this is super long wtf

Working wasn’t easy; working for the Shepherds? It was near impossible to handle. Not only did they all have mood swings and ordered people around as if they were damn gods, but were also workaholics. They made everyone in these walls work like crazy to the point they were so exhausted they just collapsed when they got home.

Usually, the workday was filled with different files regarding funds, politics or anything else the Shepherds wanted to invest in. However, lately, the Shepherd’s obsession seemed to be entirely focused on Madame La Présidente and some app the youngest of them had been working on for quite some time now. Yes, because, the Shepherd weren’t just a full on crazy family, they were a quite important and rich full on crazy family.

You’d met the two siblings that were supposedly at the head of their whole empire, Bill about only once at a private opening within the building and a few times when you’d run into Annette whenever she came to see her son. That’s right, Annette would do many things in the day but leaving her son alone wasn’t one of them. Speaking of doing lots of things during the day, you did too, probably more than anyone around here since you’ve recently been promoted as Duncan’s personal assistant. Contrary to what many people thought though, you hadn’t earned your position by doing ‘favors’ -as they put it- to your boss; no, you’d earned your position thanks to your hard and relentless work.

Indeed, you’d spent most of your days and nights at the office, typing away on your computer and answering emails along with giving calls to important people for Duncan.

Your superior wasn’t such a bad man, he worked hard and tried to make something for himself since wanted to be remembered, and not just for his last name.

Tonight wasn’t any different; everyone had started filling out of the building a few hours ago and it was now empty, the only living souls being the cleaning staff, yourself and Duncan.

You were exhausted after the day you’d spent running everywhere to do the load of work you’d been given and now that you were typing away on you computer, desperately trying to close yet another file and be done for the day, you couldn't keep your heavy eyelids from dropping every five seconds, the dim light of your desk lamp not really helping fighting off your sleepiness.

Time flew by fast and even though you’d been struggling to stay awake, you didn’t realize that your lids had completely dropped and you were passed out cold on your keyboard.

After a few minutes like this, your computer gave up and went out, of course, fate would have chosen this exact moment to make Mr Duncan Shepherd come out of his office for the first time of the day.

Duncan had been working on his app for quite some time now and rarely got out of his office, always working on the littlest details of his app, mixing work and private life together since he also worked at home.

When Duncan stepped foot outside his office, he wasn’t prepared for the sight before him. He assumed that everyone had left, given the late hour, but was shocked to see that his assistant was still behind the desk and even more that she was asleep.

She seamed knocked out cold and snored lightly, no doubt that the drool would be leaving her mouth very soon. Duncan smiled slightly at the sight and rolled his eyes as he came closer to her.

He stopped right before your desk and reached out to shake your arm lightly.

“Y/N?” he asked softly and as you didn’t answer, he shook a bit harder and repeated your name a little louder. This time, you stirred and halfheartedly opened your eyes to meet his blue ones. It took you a few moments to realize where you were but once you did, you practically jumped up.

“Mr Shepherd, I’m...” you began to apologize profusely and had risen from your seat when he waved a hand to dismiss you.

“It’s fine, you’ve been working long enough, go home, have some rest.” You would have liked to say something modest but clearly didn't have the strength and the thought of going home to your bed made you even more tired so you just nodded and turned around, but before you reached the door, you turned back to him as you remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, Mr Grayson called, your uncle has something important to discuss with you.” You turned around and walked out for good, not noticing that he had tensed up behind you. He didn’t know what his uncle wanted to talk about but he knew that the man was up to no good.

------

The next day, Duncan didn’t come in to work until late in the afternoon.

You had been there for a few hours already, having started the day a little later than usual due to your tiredness yesterday.

You had been working as per usual at your own desk when everyone started to whisper among themselves. Your fellow coworkers had been disturbed and maybe a little too content as none other than Duncan Shepherd himself showed up and entered his office without a word or even a glance at anyone around him.

Everyone got back to work once the glass door to his office got shut with a loud bang and the man inside drew the curtains. You hadn't had the time to observe Duncan from much closer but you’d caught a glimpse of his red puffy eyes. He’d obviously been crying, which was odd since Duncan never cried. As far as you were concerned though, your boss didn’t have any allergies that you were aware of.

You shook your head, none of that was your business, as you got back to typing on your laptop. After a few minutes spent like this, the phone on your desk went off and you picked it up.

“Shepherd-” you were about to say the whole sentence to present the company and ask the person at the other end of the line what you could help them with but you didn't get that chance as they cut you off abruptly.

“Can you tell my son I want to speak to him?” you recognized Annette’s voice even though you’d hardly even see her anymore.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mrs Shepherd, sure thing, hold on please.” you put the phone back and rose from your chair to knock on your boss’s office door, ready to tell him about the phone call even though you didn’t understand why Annette hadn’t reached for her son via his personal phone. Was he out of battery?

A quiet sniff came along with a ‘come in’ from inside the office and you took it upon you to open the door yourself.

You didn’t properly enter the office but put your head through the door that you had opened ajar.

“Excuse me sir but...” you started but at the sight of your boss who was quietly sitting behind his desk with his hand on his mouth, you stopped yourself. He had an elbow propped up on the desk while his hand tried to cover his mouth and a part of his -you assumed- runny nose. His laptop shut and no files were in front of him even though he tried to rearrange the air on his desk to make It seem as if he’d been working.

“Yes?” he said as he finally removed his hand from his lower face and looked at you in the eyes. He was obviously aware that his face showed the remaining tears on his cheeks and his red eyes but he knew you wouldn’t dare ask him anything about that. And you didn’t, instead you smiled politely and stepped properly in his office, standing between the door and his desk.

“Um, Your mother on line 4.” you simply said and waited for him to dismiss you as he scoffed and waved his hand.

“Tell her I’m busy.” This was a lie, you knew it, he knew it and probably the whole goddamned world too, but you just nodded and turned around before stopping at the door abruptly.

He looked up once more, raising his eyebrows this time.

“Yes?”

“Uh, it’s probably none of my business but... I see you as more than my boss-” he raised his eyebrows and you hurriedly finished to not give him ideas, “um I mean I see you as a... friend?” you tested the word, and even though it wasn’t entirely true, the man seemed like he needed someone right now. He hadn’t wanted to talk to his mom and today seemed particularly shitty so you came as a life savior.

He continued looking at you until you finished “So... if you ever wanna talk about... anything, I’m here. Literally, I spend my entire life in this building...” you trailed off, hoping to get a reaction out of him and you smiled as you got a chuckle. You smiled and he looked at you once more but this time it seemed to hold many more emotions.

“That’s actually very nice of you.” you smiled and nodded as he dismissed you. You walked out and back to your desk picking up line 4 and telling Annette that her son was busy at the moment and even though she didn't seem to believe you, she sighed and thanked you before hanging up.

You continued working until nighttime came in and most of everyone had come home. Your floor was empty and you hadn’t seen Duncan come out of his office since he arrived.

You were about to shut your laptop when you heard the sound of a door opening and closing as Duncan came out of his office. He seemed a little better than earlier but still looked sad. Upon seeing you, he almost jolted up in surprise but remembered you were one that worked hard and late.

Your eyes met his and at the sadness of it you couldn’t help but sigh a little. He took several steps to you and asked what you were still doing here, but very softly.

“Oh, I had to close up the Westfield file, you know how they get, this entire family is trouble.” Duncan smiled slightly at your attempt at making him better and the awkward silence that followed didn’t stop him from sitting across from you on a vacant chair.

“You should go home.” was all he said, and the way he said it was nowhere near the way he had said it yesterday.

“What about you?”, you hesitantly said and looked at him warily. He just shook his head as he answered.

“I was thinking of booking a hotel room for the night... and probably many more to come.” he chuckled dryly and you knew this sudden need for a hotel room was to get away from his mother.

You didn’t know what it was about but you wrongly assumed it had something to do with the meeting you’d arranged on his demand with The President, which had taken place at the White House only a day prior.

Did his uncle tell him something about it? If so it was partly your fault, wasn’t it?

Knowing the Shepherd’s antecedents with Claire Underwood, you should have refused to arrange this rendez-vous, even though you hadn't had much of a choice. Being his assistant though, you could have talked him out of it even though Claire had been the one to request to see him. Now you felt responsible of the state he was in and it wasn’t fair, considering Duncan had been the best boss you’ve had in a while. He wasn’t harsh or anything but still wanted work to be handed over on time and respected his worker’s jobs even though he rarely mixed with them.

You couldn’t help but reach over and pat his hand over the desk. It may have been inappropriate but you didn’t care since he seemed so sad. He had as sole reaction to pause momentarily and to stare at your hand as his eyes travelled up to your face.

“I... happen to have a guest room at my apartment... it’s not the luxe you’re used to but it’s not...” he cut you off before you could finish your stupid proposition.

“You don’t have to do that.” he took his hand back and proceeded to say that he was fine but the tears in his eyes just gave his whole act away.

“No it’s fine... I want to and... I always cook way more than I should so...” you trailed off while still looking at him in the eyes. You hated it, you hated that this was how your dignity was gonna leave you. He wasn’t going to accept and this was a silly proposition anyway, he was your boss for god’s sake! Duncan freaking Shepherd!

“You don’t have to...” he started but you cut him off, “I want to, Duncan!” you practically shouted because he annoyed you, he was clearly in pain, you had never seen him like this before and you were scared he would do something stupid without someone by his side tonight. He nodded slightly and you spoke more quietly this time, “Let me take care of you, alright? Your mom doesn’t know where I live and even though I'm sure she has the ressources to find out, a place like mine would be the last one she’d look for you.” he nodded and looked at you more assuredly.

“This will be counted and added to your salary.” you rolled your eyes, money wasn’t everything. This was America and finding an affordable place to live in was hard, but with your job and position you managed to live comfortably enough so housing Duncan for a night wasn’t a big deal; you knew him, hell you knew everything about him -well almost- and you didn’t think for a second that he was a threat.

He smiled weakly and muttered a simple thank you as you both left the building and followed you to your home.

A/N: This sucks so bad I'm sorry but there will be a part two.

#duncan shepherd #cody fern #michael langon #duncan x reader #imagine #one shot #ahs apocalypse #house of cards #fluff #it sucks I am so sorry #did I mention I loved Duncan? hoc #I love Duncan this smol bean #why can't he just be happy #looovvveee himmmm #hoc #reader #female reader #part one

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stephenmccull · 4 years

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Trump’s Wrong. 15% ‘Herd Immunity’ Is Not on Par With Strength of a Vaccine

The percentage of Americans with natural immunity from getting COVID-19 is “a very powerful vaccine in itself.”

— President Donald Trump on Dec. 8 at a White House Operation Warp Speed vaccine summit

This story was produced in partnership with PolitiFact. It can be republished for free.

During a Dec. 8 press conference about Operation Warp Speed, President Donald Trump likened the spread of the coronavirus throughout the population — which experts agree bestows some immunity on the people who became ill — to having a COVID-19 vaccine.

“You develop immunity over a period of time, and I hear we’re close to 15%. I’m hearing that, and that is terrific. That’s a very powerful vaccine in itself,” said Trump, who was responding to a reporter’s question about what his message to the American people was as the holidays approach and levels of COVID cases in the U.S. continue to rise.

It wasn’t the first time Trump had given credence to the idea that if enough people in a population gain immunity to a disease by being exposed to it, the illness won’t be able to spread through the remainder of the population — a concept known as “herd immunity.”

However, experts have warned that attempting to achieve herd immunity naturally, by allowing people to get sick with COVID-19, could result in more than a million deaths and potentially long-term health problems for many. A better way to achieve protection across the population, experts say, is through widespread vaccination.

So, we thought it was important to check whether 15% is anywhere close to the herd immunity threshold, and whether this level of natural immunity could be considered “as powerful as a vaccine.”

15% Is Nowhere Close

The White House did not respond to our request for more information about the comment or about Trump’s 15% figure.

It may be derived from a Nov. 25 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report using mathematical models to estimate that 53 million Americans — about 16% of the population — have likely been infected with COVID-19. Those models took into consideration the nation’s number of confirmed cases, and then used existing data to calculate estimates of the number of people who had COVID-19 but didn’t seek medical attention, weren’t able to access a COVID-19 test, received a false-negative test result or were asymptomatic and unaware they had COVID-19.

It’s important to note this estimate is based on data from February through September — and it’s now mid-December, so the share of Americans who have been infected with the coronavirus would likely be much higher. For instance, an independent data scientist, Youyang Gu, estimated that 17.5% of Americans have had COVID-19 as of Nov. 30. His estimate is published on his website, COVID Projections.

Experts have said that a 15% infection rate among Americans is nowhere close to the threshold needed to reach herd immunity against COVID.

“To get to herd immunity, an estimated 60-80% of people need to have immunity (either through natural infection or through the vaccine),” Dr. Leana Wen, an emergency physician and visiting professor at George Washington University, wrote in an email. “We are a very long way off from that.”

Also, Wen said, scientists still don’t know enough about how effective natural immunity is in defending against COVID-19. It appears that once someone has had COVID-19 and recovered, the antibodies their body produced can protect them for at least several months. But, there have also been reports of COVID-19 re-infection.

That’s why medical experts urge everyone to get vaccinated, whether they have had COVID-19 or not.

Dr. Anthony Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, recently set the saturation level for herd immunity even higher — between 75% and 80% — in an interview with Axios.

At that point, he said, “you create an umbrella of herd immunity — that even though there is virus around, it is really almost inconsequential because it has no place to go, because almost all of the people are protected.”

Both the Pfizer and Moderna COVID-19 vaccines have shown 95% effectiveness at protecting people from developing COVID-19 in clinical trials. The Food and Drug Administration on Friday authorized Pfizer’s vaccine for emergency use. This Thursday, an independent panel will consider whether to recommend that the FDA authorize the emergency use of Moderna’s COVID-19 vaccine.

So, that leads to the next question: Is 15% natural immunity among the American population anywhere close to a “powerful vaccine,” as Trump alleges?

No, said the experts. And there’s nothing “terrific” about that level of infection within the community.

“Fifteen percent ‘natural immunity’ is nowhere close to as powerful as a vaccine,” Dr. Rachel Vreeman, director of the Arnhold Institute for Global Health at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, wrote in an email.

Assuming that natural immunity is effective, reaching a level of 15% of the population would prevent only those individuals who have had COVID from getting sick again, said Stephen Morse, an epidemiology professor at Columbia University.

“But [it] won’t do much to prevent virus spread in the community, because there are still so many susceptible people,” Morse wrote in an email. Plus, 15% of the American population having had COVID-19 “has come at a high cost,” Morse wrote. To achieve 15% natural immunity, more than 300,000 people in the U.S. have been sacrificed.

Our Ruling

Though Trump was in the ballpark when he referenced the share of Americans who have been infected with the coronavirus, his overall point — that the natural immunity these people acquired is a powerful vaccine — does not hold up. Experts repeatedly have warned that not enough is known about the immunity people appear to gain after recovering from a COVID-19 infection to know how effective or lasting it is. And there have been reported cases of COVID re-infections.

Also, experts agree more than 70% of the U.S. population needs to be vaccinated in order to reach herd immunity. Fifteen percent is nowhere close to that threshold and should not be considered as effective as a COVID-19 vaccine. Moreover, that 15% statistic brought with it hundreds of thousands of deaths.

We rate this claim False.

Sources

ABC News, “Trump’s ABC News Town Hall: Full Transcript,” Sept. 15, 2020.

Axios, “The Hurdles We Face Before Reaching Herd Immunity,” Dec. 10, 2020.

Business Insider, “Trump Says It’s ‘Terrific’ So Many Americans Have Caught the Coronavirus Because It ‘Is a Very Powerful Vaccine in Itself’,” Dec. 9, 2020.

Clinical Infectious Disease, “Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19) Re-infection by a Phylogenetically Distinct Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus 2 Strain Confirmed by Whole Genome Sequencing,” Aug. 25, 2020.

Clinical Infectious Disease, “Estimated Incidence of COVID-19 Illness and Hospitalization — United States, February-September, 2020,” Nov. 25, 2020.

Email interview with Dr. Leana Wen, visiting professor of health policy and management at George Washington University, Dec. 10, 2020.

Email interview with Dr. Rachel Vreeman, director of the Arnhold Global Health Institute at Mount Sinai, Dec. 10, 2020.

Email interview with Stephen Morse, an epidemiology professor at Columbia University Medical Center, Dec. 10, 2020.

Internet archives, Fox News Tucker Carlson Tonight Interview With Scott Atlas on June 29, 2020, accessed Dec. 12, 2020.

KHN, “Corralling the Facts on Herd Immunity,” Sept. 29, 2020.

KHN, “Morning Briefing — In Letter, Scores of Scientists Strongly Denounce Herd Immunity,” Oct. 15, 2020.

NBC News, “FDA Authorizes Pfizer’s Covid Vaccine for Emergency Use, Major First Step Toward Bringing Pandemic to End,” Dec. 11, 2020.

NPR, “Dr. Scott Atlas, Special Coronavirus Adviser to Trump, Resigns,” Nov. 30, 2020.

PBS, “Pfizer and Moderna Covid Vaccines 95% Effective in Clinical Trials,” Nov. 18, 2020.

Phone interview with Dr. Jon Andrus, adjunct professor of global health at George Washington University, Dec. 11, 2020.

Phone interview with Josh Michaud, associate director of global health policy at KFF, Dec. 10, 2020.

PolitiFact, “Herd immunity Curbed COVID Deaths? No,” April 21, 2020.

The Wall Street Journal, “More Than 15% of Americans Have Had Covid-19, CDC Estimates,” Nov. 27, 2020.

The Washington Post, “Trump Can’t Kick His Coronavirus Herd-Immunity Kick,” Dec. 8, 2020.

The Washington Post, “Trump Has Been Publicly Indicating His Openness to a Herd Immunity Strategy for Months,” Oct. 29, 2020.

The White House, Remarks by President Trump in Press Briefing, Aug. 11, 2020.

The White House, Remarks by President Trump at the Operation Warp Speed Vaccine Summit, Dec. 8, 2020.

Kaiser Health News (KHN) is a national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

Trump’s Wrong. 15% ‘Herd Immunity’ Is Not on Par With Strength of a Vaccine published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.weebly.com/

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gordonwilliamsweb · 4 years

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Trump’s Wrong. 15% ‘Herd Immunity’ Is Not on Par With Strength of a Vaccine

The percentage of Americans with natural immunity from getting COVID-19 is “a very powerful vaccine in itself.”

— President Donald Trump on Dec. 8 at a White House Operation Warp Speed vaccine summit