#vector is only a year older than me and if i would have a crisis over being a dad on my 20's i think he would have a heartattack

[themetallicnemesis]

I feel like a lot of people headcanon Vector as a father figure to Charmy and Espio but dunno, to me he always felt more like a older brother who's stuck with having to pay the bills because there's no parents around to pay those

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 2: Going from Zero to Antichrist Real Quick

Bumblebee and his camp buddies are trying to figure out what to do with the Titan who just popped out of the ground like a prairie dog, as the sky looks like a Lisa Frank notebook thanks to the portal to the Dead Universe. It’s honestly very nice, we should should get more pretty apocalypses like this.

Bumblebee starts throwing out orders at everyone, much to Slag’s chagrin. When Slag brings up the point that they probably can’t do much of anything to a guy roughly a hundred times bigger than they are, Bumblebee tells him to shut up and do as he’s told.

Yeah, I had about the same reaction, Slag.

So the Dinobots do their thing. Swoop, who I think is the only guy here who can fly, goes up to see what the Titan’s doing. It’s not much, other than looking really upset. Oh no, what if he’s afraid of heights? Poor guy.

Even if the Titan isn’t moving, the mere presence of the thing is jamming signals, which is kind of an issue. Ironhide’s ready to shoot it in the foot, and Arcee will help, because she’s a team player now. Bumblebee has a minor crisis over whether this is the same Titan that told Starscream he was a prophesied son of a gun, but Prowl doesn’t seem to think that it is.

Prowl, who has been suffering from short-term memory lapses over the last several months or so because a bug-man was controlling his mind.

Yeah, let’s maybe take his opinion on the matter with a grain of salt, even if he is right.

Over at the Lost Light, Orion Pax is visiting Brainstorm’s workshop, where everyone’s favorite science man is admitting to having studied the Dead Universe’s effects on the living and interviewing people who had been to the area.

Man, I sure hope that guy signed a waiver, otherwise Brainstorm’s going to be in a spot of trouble.

Then we get a quick rundown of what the Dead Universe is: an omnicognizant parallel universe that functions on fundamental principles that differ from our own and wants you to die. So, obviously not a place you would want to go to. Still, we gotta, because that’s where the plot is the Dead Universe is gonna vore Cybertron if we don’t.

Brainstorm agrees to cook something up to make the trip through the Gorlam Prime portal easier.

Back on Cybertron, the Titan looms in the distance as we check in on an oddly pristine-looking Iacon. Rattrap tells Starscream to come out of the closet, because the Titan still hasn’t moved and doesn’t seem like it’s going to anytime soon. Starscream does come out, but it’s with his arms full of weapons of Autobot design that he appropriated from the ruins of Kimia, because he doesn’t trust that Titan to not start some shit. Rattrap suggests that they maybe get a second opinion before they start murdering people for standing in a barren field.

Back on the Lost Light, there’s a little shindig going down at Swerve’s, everyone staring down the table where Optimus, Rodimus, and Ultra Magnus are seated. Swerve takes the opportunity to do what everyone else is probably really wanting to, and snaps a few photos of them for his scrapbook. As soon as he’s done, we get to the Emotions portion of our issue.

Rodimus is letting himself be vulnerable in front of the man he idolizes, and I think that’s very brave of him.

Nobody’s feeling super great about the situation they’ve been presented with, but there isn’t a lot that can be done about it now. Just gotta work with what they got. Rodimus asks Optimus how he feels about Starscream being elected leader of Cybertron.

But I thought that freedom was the right of all sentient beings? You know, like the freedom of choice in our government officials, even if they aren’t the best option we could possibly have, because at least they’re better than the guy who had bombs planted in people’s heads for crowd control purposes? Are you saying that it only counted when the concept of freedom could be manipulated so you could go kick Megatron’s ass, and that actual freedom of choice doesn’t jive with your personal sensibilities as much as you’d like everyone to think it does? No wonder you’re going to try to overthrow the entire Earth’s government system to get humanity annexed into Cybertron’s bullshit in a few years’ time.

But perhaps this Starscream thing is actually the work of Megatron! What will Orion do then?

…I mean, do I even have to say it?

ORION, THAT’S GAY.

And I thought we’d already figured out what to do with Megatron back in “Chaos Theory”, where you spent three issues waffling on the subject until the man himself told you to execute him, because even he was sick of your crisis of self. The only reason you didn’t get to act on it was because Megatron disappeared after Vector Sigma blew up and then you fucked off into space without even bothering to check if he was actually dead.

But enough of Orion promising to kill/kiss Megatron, it’s time to see what Brainstorm’s cooked up. It’s not much, but to be fair, he’s only had a few hours to pull something together- our ship’s genius has made a few forcefield generators, using nothing more than some forcefield generators and juice he squeezed out of a bug. Science truly is amazing.

And I bet Trailcutter hates this invention too, for multiple reasons this time!

Cyclonus, who is looking especially purple today, agrees to join the excursion to the Dead Universe, even though it’s pretty clear he really, really doesn’t want to. Hardhead seems in better spirits than our resident space jet, though maybe that’s just bravado macho-man bullshitting on his part.

With our team put together, it’s time to jump out of the spaceship and into a place that quite literally wants them dead. But first Rodimus has a little chat with Ultra Magnus about his feelings. A lot of sharing this issue.

Magnus doesn’t feel fit to be in charge while Rodimus goes off to save the day and maybe die, because he doesn’t have that special something that makes a leader a leader. Charisma? The ability to think on your feet? The ability to see people as people and not numbers? Not having people know you’re actually a much smaller man running around in an Ultra Magnus suit? Whatever it is, Rodimus seems to think that it’s trumped by a mysterious something in his hand, and that Magnus will do just fine.

While Team -Imus goes into the murder reality, Magnus and the Lost Light will be going off to find Jhiaxus, because they need something to do while our protagonist and his absentee father go on their own adventure.

Back on Cybertron, Starscream’s visiting prison, and wants to talk to a very good boy without the guards overhearing. Jazz makes a very vague threat about what will happen if any harm comes to the prisoner, then steps away.

Let’s talk about how to sell toys for a second.

This issue of “Dark Cybertron” had a cover featuring Scoop, the very good boy I’ve mentioned before, because it was paired off with his Generations toy. We know from reading RID that Scoop is the leader of a group called the Construction Patrol, and he likes to help simply for the sake of helping. Sounds like a nice, if generic, character. How is this issue going to introduce people to him? Will he bust out of prison to save the day? Fight evil through heroic sacrifice? Do anything besides talk?

No, he’s going to tell Starscream he’s a herald of death that was foretold in the robot bible.

Yeah, that’ll move some fucking product!

This isn’t even the most batshit thing Scoop’s going to pull in this event, but it is what they decided to put in the issue that “features” him.

Over with Shockwave, we’re treated to some renewed friendships, as Nova Prime and Galvatron reveal that they don’t hate each other after all, but have a mutual respect based in subjugating those weaker than them.

I’m guessing this is a contrast to their previous relationship dynamic in older publications, but I’m not going back to comb through the likes of Heart of Darkness to check, because it really doesn’t matter.

There’s a bit of a snag in Shockwave’s plan to bring Galvatron and Nova Prime back to the Not-Dead Universe, as the space bridge in the Titan burnt up when it got there. Gee, that sucks. I guess all those “Prelude” issues about getting the Titan from Gorlam Prime were sort of a waste of time, weren’t they? Love it when I’m told I wasted my time reading motherfucking Ramondelli issues.

Speaking of Ramondelli, it’s Dead Universe time.

Sigh. Hello, public domain pictures of space on the overlay layer option in Photoshop. It’s nice to see you.

No, it isn’t. I lied.

I’m sorry, public domain pictures of space on the overlay layer option in Photoshop, this isn’t your fault.

So we’re here in the Dead Universe, and it’s looking pretty wild and crazy, though the characters are likely thinking this for a completely different reason than we are as readers. It turns out, the Dead Universe… is dying.

…MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM THAT’S SOME GOOD WRITIN’ RIGHT THERE

Also, Cyclonus has disappeared, not that anyone actually gives a shit, because they’re too busy dealing with the giant space leeches that just showed the hell up. Dang, why’s that happening?

…That only happens as a form of population control, or if the young in question are sickly and have a low chance of survival, not just because the mama rabbit got a bit peckish between lunch and dinner, you stupid fucking robot.

Half of this writing team won awards a couple years after this was published, I want you to remember that.

They fight the cyberwraiths for a bit, things look like they’re getting dicey, then suddenly they fuck off as Cyclonus shows up, probably fresh off the end of a goddamned panic attack because he’s back in the Dead Universe. Then he proceeds to vomit up some black energon. That’s a fun thing, glad you made me look at that.

Rodimus is concerned that one of their team members has got the Hollywood Tuberculosis cough, but Cyclonus doesn’t want his fucking pity. The fellas decide it’s time to get a move on, seeing as they’ve been here a grand total of 20 seconds and been attacked, so they need to get this over with ASAP.

As Team -Imus flies off in a ship I don’t remember them bringing along, someone decides that they’re going to stick their finger in that puddle of vomit.

Nightbeat you fucking idiot, there aren’t any sinks in the Dead Universe! Now your hand’s gonna be all gross for the entirety of this event! He’s not even analyzing it, it’s just on his hand! Why is Nightbeat having zero concept of personal hygiene a running theme in the things I read? Fuck!

You may be wondering what Nightbeat’s doing in the Dead Universe, or even where he’s been for a good chunk of IDW. We’ve seen him in flashbacks from before the war, but not during or after, least not within anything I’ve covered. So, what’s be been up to?

Fuck you, you’ll have to wait for a later issue to be told what Phase One bullshit you’ll have had to read to understand why this dumbass is here.

Back on Cybertron, Prowl is telling Bumblebee that he sucks because he’s not acting. I’m not exactly sure what he expects Bumblebee to do about the Titan who’s just standing there. It’s not like issuing a loitering ticket is going to do anything. Then the Decepticons attack them, among their ranks being the scariest fucking Ravage I’ve ever seen.

Why do you look like that? Rojo’s supposed to have the cutesy style on this team, why the fuck did he turn the kitty cat into one of the terror dogs from Ghostbusters? 

Anyway, that’s the end of the issue. Sure hope you’re invested enough in trying to figure out what the fuck Nightbeat’s deal is to snag Robots in Disguise #23.

[just-come-baek]

As If It’s Your Last

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Themes: angst | smut | zombie apocalypse!au

Word count: 13.5k

Summary: Yoongi and I are different as night and day; two completely divergent mindsets. Living too long the gloomiest scenario, I always risk my neck, while Yoongi is cautious, being on the safe side. Funny thing how polar opposites clash.

Warnings: just filthy smut ahead I guess

Masterlist

Today, it's the day 521.

It's been over a year since the world ultimately crumbled down. Almost overnight, a dangerous virus spread across the world; everything happened so fast the scientists couldn't even trace its source. At first, I thought of it as fake news, but before I realised the threat was real, the virus had become cosmopolitan.

On the day 3, the government informed the people about the danger. The virus is being transmitted via blood. Slowly, it penetrates the person's veins, killing the host within twelve hours. When the body temperature drops by fifteen degrees, the victim goes through the second stage—the infected human being becomes a mindless creature with a strong urge to feed on people's brains.

On the day 5, the city council organised a few safety zones. It was too late, though. The half of the population was already gone, while the lucky ones who actually managed to get there, got infected too.

On the day 10, my brother was attacked by the monsters. He was outnumbered, and although he fought them off, he got bitten. I couldn't do anything to save him. The only reasonable solution was to lock him up until the scientists discover a cure. We had hope, but our reaction was too slow; before we noticed, my brother changed and passed the virus to both of my parents.

On the day 21, I found my friend, Chanmi. She was fine, as much as the situation could be considered as one. When they heard about the threat, instead of joining the others at safety spots, they locked themselves up at home. They took me in, even though they hesitated at first. I could be infected, but nonetheless, they risked it.

Our luck didn't last long, though.

On the day 27, we ran out of supplies. We were starving; we had eaten everything, even an old bread with some mold on it. Her father, being the strongest among us, drove to the store. Unfortunately, he was bitten by one of them. He returned home with food, but we had to evacuate before he turned. Quickly, we got into the car, and drove away, although neither of us had any idea how to drive the vehicle. The situation was difficult, Chanmi and I both lost our families; the fact that we still could rely on each other was the only silver lining in this whole mess.

On the day 28, we left our city. Uninfected people either ran away, or barricaded themselves into their houses. We tried to find a sanctuary, but not even a single person would risk to help two strangers.

On the day 31, we reached another city. Their local government had taken better precautions in the fight against the virus. Having tested for the Z-virus, as they started calling it, they let us join one of the survival teams. In a group of fifty people, we waited for new information about the threat. The scientists all over the world were working to find the cure. In vain, unfortunately. We waited for weeks for the results, though we received no feedback. The people from our division were starting to panic, but I still foolishly believed there was a solution.

On the day 72, our team fought. Everyone had a different opinion, someone thought the government wrote us off, letting us die while the clerks which were at the very top of the social ladder were given an asylum. Others assumed it was some sort of natural selection where the weakest links would die and nothing could be done to prevent it. Instead of working together, people started to divide, which consequently contributed to official disbandment.

On the day 121, the government decided to actively end the crisis. They set up traps in the big cities. The strategy was different; no one cared for the people infected by the Z-virus. The plan changed; from that day onwards, they were focused on exterminating everyone who was a vector. It was inefficient, though. Day by day, we had fewer chances of winning it; whenever one of us died, there were more of them.

On the day 135, the system failed. We were deprived of the electricity, the cell signal and the Internet connection. It was by far the greatest breakdown we'd ever witnessed. It was the day, we realized the humanity lost. We continued to fight, but it was because we were cowards, being unable to take our lives away. We still held onto the hope, although everything around us proved us the situation was forlorn.

On the day 164, we met Sungjae. He was only a year older, but he didn't act his age. He could cheer us up even if we felt gloomy for weeks. Before he joined us, Chanmi and I faced many problems, with him by our side, living was much easier. He was a perfect supplement to our group. He brought back the positive spirit which we had lost along the way.

On the day 200, I realised I had the hots for Sungjae. I suppressed my feelings for him, though. I could see that Chanmi liked him, too. Sungjae wasn't indifferent about her, either. It was foolish to romance under these circumstances, so not wanting to interfere, I just stepped aside.

On the day 214, I caught them making out. I was out to get us food, while they stayed in our hideout. Since the beginning of the epidemic, I had picked up some skills and improved them throughout the process; therefore I came faster than I informed them. Seeing them in each other's arms, sprawled on the couch hurt me much less that I thought it would. Chanmi had always been a girl that boys fell for, I had got used to the attention she had been receiving. I was a little bit envious of their relationship, but they were happy, and their happiness made me happy, too.

On the day 222, we were attacked by the infected. I was on a stakeout, giving them some space, so they could get lost in their fervent desires and hidden needs. They needed privacy, and I cared so much about them, so I quietly shunned them. Just when the sun disappeared behind the horizon, I saw the infected. They were slowly approaching our hideout, and we had to move; otherwise, we would become just like them. We didn't even have ten minutes to pack and escape. This time, not even a glimmer of hope assisted me, we were outnumbered, and I was certain we were all going to die. Thankfully, Sungjae had an ace up his sleeve. We fought, and after many hours of the attack, we won. It wasn't a victory, though. Chanmi was scratched.

On the day 225, Sungjae and I watched over Chanmi. A long scratch was decorating her skin, and we still hoped she wasn't infected. Despite our prayers, at the crack of dawn, her heart stopped beating. Neither of us knew how to handle her death. Sungjae obviously liked her. I was shattered. Ever since the Z-virus epidemic, it was 'you and me against the world', and right now, she was gone. Without Chanmi, I was alone, caught in the middle of a war, relentlessly fighting for my life.

On the day 241, Sungjae left. He couldn't continue the journey with me, as he phrased, 'you remind me of her'. I wanted us to stick together, but whenever he looked at me, thoughts of Chanmi would resurface in his mind, and it was even worse hell than the one we were already living in. Regardless of how much I wanted him to stay, I couldn't ask for that. I had seen the pain in his eyes when he had watched her die, I didn't want him to relive that miserable memory every time he looked at me.

On the day 257, I stumbled upon two hunters. I was barely walking, and they noticed it. If I were one of them, I'd probably mistake myself as one of the infected. That day, luck was by my side. They took me to their camp and held as a prisoner, but at least, I was alive.

On the day 264, when they realized I wasn't infected, I was taken to their leader. Her name was Lee Sunmi, and everyone treated her like a queen. She had over a hundred of men ready to fulfill her every desire. I admired her, I really did. When the crisis had struck, she had embraced the power, and along with a handful of her friends, they had created a strong and capable group. I felt hope when they took me in, I no longer walked the streets without a purpose. It was dangerous, but rewarding; slowly, step by step, we were closer to the world without monsters.

On the day 311, I met Myungsoo. He had got recruited just the way I had, and the moment I looked at him, he caught my attention. Physically, he reminded me of Sungjae, and when I met him in person, I could pinpoint even more identical traits. Needless to say, we clicked. It didn't even last a week when Myungsoo and I began sneaking out every night to roll in the sheets.

For the first time in almost a year, I felt relatively happy.

On the day 354, everything, just like a house of cards, fell apart. On a mission, the task force split, and while scouting alone, Sunmi got infected. The incident caused a huge commotion within the group; the queen was executed before the virus would change her, and a few of her advisors started to fight for her position. Ideologically, the organization was supposed to join people to battle against the virus, but instead, the best warriors began killing each other. Then, I realized, it wasn't a place for me. I escaped, but I couldn't find Myungsoo anywhere. I lost him.

On the day 411, I came across another pack. It consisted of five men, and I didn't feel welcomed. They didn't trust me, and they didn't even try to disguise the hatred toward me. They perceived me as the weakest link, and I hated it. Whenever they had a chance they would send me to a dangerous mission, wishing that I wouldn't return. Every time they wanted to get rid of me, I proved them wrong.

On the day 428, one of them tried to rape me. I should've seen it coming. With each attempt to humiliate me, I rose right to the top, outshining them. That day, we were on a hunt, and if I didn't intervene, one of them would get infected—it must've been the last straw. Swiftly, I packed a few crucial supplies, and ran away. I couldn't stay with them, not after what one of them had tried to do to me.

On the day 439, I started to write a journal. I desperately needed a way to clear my head, and scribbling my thoughts down in an old notebook did the trick. I had no one to talk to, and I suspected I might lose my sanity if I didn't do anything to channel my thoughts somewhere else.

On the day 452, I climbed to the rooftop of the highest building in the area. The cold wind was kissing my cheeks, as I leaned against the barrier, looking down at the street which not even two years before had been bustling with life. Slowly, I opened my backpack and grabbed a chocolate croissant in an airtight packaging. That day was my twenty-third birthday. Normally, I'd throw a party for all of my friends, but that year, a simple croissant with a single candle clumsily stuck in it had to suffice.

On the day 464, I was attacked by two hunters. They were tall and strong men, and they didn't care whether they killed a person, or a monster. They just wanted to fire their guns, regardless of what they were aiming at. Thankfully, they weren't as trained, and I easily hid. Starting a fight with them was the last thing I wished to deal with.

Today, it's the day 521, and I walk around this fucking ghost town, seeking for a place where I can finally get some rest.

***

I was damn tired.

I had been walking since the crack of dawn, and now the night was slowly descending. Exhausted beyond human comprehension, I kept pushing myself forward. It was just a ridiculously heavy cross to bear, but I just had to continue fighting. In the span of exactly 521 days of the apocalypse, I had gone through some dark times, I couldn't give up now.

Repeatedly, I pondered to just quit everything.

I didn't have the guts to do it, though.

Taking one's life away was one hell of a feat, and frankly, I was a pathetic coward. I had lost everyone; my friends and family, even Sungjae didn't want to stick around me any more. I was drowning in solitude, being completely isolated, yet still, I couldn't find the strength within me to end this, to put a bullet in my brain and just stop fighting.

"Fuck," I cursed, when I heard the groaning—the infected were close.

Instantly, I adjusted my backpack, and quickened my pace; the thought of ending this whole miserable life haunted me every day, though whenever the real danger approached, I'd just fight. Just like right now; I could let them bite me. I could let them kill me. Unfortunately, a part of me wouldn't allow it, I still deluded myself into thinking that one day the humanity would win.

They were getting closer and closer; perhaps only a few blocks away.

I almost ran out of my supplies; granted that I managed to find a place to stay during the night, I'd still have to go scouting for food.

Troubled, not having a plan in my mind, I rushed the opposite direction. I'd come up with a solution while running. Hoping that I could spot a building with potential, I skipped to the West. A lot of buildings were perfect fortresses, yet I couldn't see any; there were only small business shops with shattered windows and broken doors, and enormous skyscrapers which must've been offices. I almost started to panic, but hopefully, I found it—a hotel.

Swiftly, I approached the main entrance; unfortunately, I couldn't enter. The doors were locked, so not wasting any time, I ran around the building, seeking for an emergency exit, though when I found it, I groaned with annoyance. It was barricaded, too. Almost as if someone was already hiding there, or used to shelter there, I just couldn't get inside.

The walkers must've heard me, as their grunts rang louder and louder in my ears. I tried yanking the doors open, but they wouldn't budge an inch. Aggressively, I kicked the entrance, but to no avail. It wouldn't move and I was stuck outside. I had to think; if I didn't come up with another plan, I'd become one of them.

"Think, think, think." I repeated like a mantra, as I lightly hit my forehead with my hand. "What would Sungjae do?" I asked myself, remembering that Sungjae would know how to solve the problem; he would always come with an unconventional solution. I was a strategist, I needed time, and I couldn't think clearly under so much stress and pressure of time. It was Sungjae's cup of tea, and in moments like this, I'd feel his absence the most.

They were just behind the corner, so grabbed my backpack and ran away. I couldn't waste any more time on trying to get inside; it was a perfect hideout, but I was forced to find something else.

Just when I wanted to head to the staircase of another building, I glanced at the parking entrance. The doors weren't completely rolled down, there was a twenty centimetre gap, and although I couldn't fit through it, I knew it was my chance. All I had to do was to lever it up a little, and then block the chink from the inside; it wasn't difficult, but I was worried about the time which I had so, so little. The walkers weren't particularly fast, but nonetheless, they were a danger I wanted to avoid. If they weren't a threat, I wouldn't be stuck in the middle of a war zone.

Swiftly, I placed my backpack in front of the gap, and looked around for something I could use to lever the sliding doors up. They were near, so I just grabbed a metal pipe which was lying next to the garbage can. Heaving a sigh, I placed the pipe on the backpack, putting all of my weight on one end of it. The sliding doors moved up a bit, allowing me to slide inside.

"Not today," I murmured to myself, looking for something to obstruct the chink with. I was in the parking lot; besides a handful of cars, it was empty. My head was aching due to intensive thinking and stress, but fortunately, on the other side of the parking lot, I noticed a huge garbage can which I quickly rolled to the sliding doors, hoping it would suffice. It had to.

It wasn't over, though. I had to make sure that there weren't any zombies inside. Getting a room without prior securing the building would be a reckless move, and I knew better. I wouldn't have survived to this day if I hadn't known that. The hotel looked safe, but I wasn't foolish to assume the threat was defused.

I was too exhausted to check every single room of this enormous hotel; securing the area would take me two days or even more. Wittily, I decided to set a small trap. Once I was in the main hall I pushed a china statue off the front desk, watching it scatter all over the floor. It made a noise, but not too loud to beckon the monsters outside. Every walker who was inside the building would hear the sound and hopefully follow it to its source.

Shielding behind the front desk, I waited.

I had only six bullets, and despite knowing that my plan was risky, I acted on it. They could either kill me in my sleep, or in a fair battle, and I'd always choose the second option.

It wasn't even fifteen minutes when I heard a noise. Someone just walked down the stairs, and I loaded my gun. With my closed eyes, I listened to the footsteps. Everything seemed that I had only one opponent, and frankly, I could work with that. I had been in worse circumstances, killing one infected wasn't a problem.

Sighing, I hoisted myself up and turned around, aiming my gun at the intruder.

"Holy fucking shit," the man hollered, put his gun down, and pressed his hand against his chest. He was almost as shocked as I was. I could sense that he didn't expect to cross paths with a human. The city was packed with walkers, while the humans had gone many moons ago. "Who the fuck are you and how have you got inside?" He asked angrily, staring at me, studying my body language.

"Nice to meet you, too." I answered sarcastically, unloading my gun and putting it away. "You locked yourself in here pretty well, I must admit."

"Apparently not well enough." He remarked, and when I heard a faint 'tsk tsk', I grinned at him. "Do you mind answering my questions?"

"Getting straight to the point, I presume." I retorted, and he gently nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Don't worry, you did an amazing job, I almost got caught when I was fighting with the locks. Luckily for me, you forgot about the sliding doors to the parking lot, I just glided through the chink."

"Oh, okay." He registered my answer, tapping his fingertips against his chin, staring blankly at me. "Get the fuck out, I was here first. I believe you know your way out." The stranger announced, and I hesitated to pull out my gun and shoot him. I had met plenty of mean people, but his attitude was awful. Although I had never been a person who judged and labeled others, this guy was really something!

"Are you insane? You're not kicking me out of here! Fucking zombies are out there!" I replied quickly, and he just heaved a sigh. "I mean..." I stared, smiling sheepishly, "I don't plan on staying here for long, a week tops. In the meantime, we can give each other some handy tips, " I paused when I noticed his annoyed and skeptical expression, "or we can just mind our own business. Whatever is fine with me."

"No, you're too loud. You'll beckon them." He spoke coldly, pointing his gun at me.

"Aren't you being a little bit melodramatic? I can bet that gun of yours totally won't make a sound, just put that down so we can converse like civilized people we are." I proposed, and he, although hesitantly, complied with my proposition. "Okay, so first thing first. You don't seem like a type of person who trusts others, so I'll just cut to the case," I started, and he nodded his head, allowing me to continue my reasoning, "you don't want to team up, it's not like that I actually offered it, but nonetheless, it's fine with me. If you're so against the cooperation, why don't we just settle for coexistence? I won't rain on your parade, and you won't on mine, how about that?"

The man was silent. My proposition didn't meet his expectations since he desperately wanted me out, but I wasn't particularly meddling in his affairs. We would stay out of each other's way. We didn't even have to talk to each other if that's what he wanted.

"Fine, but be quiet. And keep your nose out of my business, you got it?" He asked, and I vigorously nodded my head, smiling at his sheepishly.

"Of course, as quiet as a mouse." I added before I picked up my backpack, ready to leave.

I was damn tired, so I just walked into the first open room, and plopped onto the sheets, dozing off immediately.

***

I had no idea how long I was asleep; the moment I woke up the sun was already shining brightly, the strings of light falling directly at my face, as I had been too exhausted to even think of pulling the blinds down. Stretching my numb limbs, I sat up on the bed, looking around the room. It was really simple—one single bed, a big, empty wardrobe and a desk with a lamp on top of it. Every surface was coated with a thick layer of dust.

Slowly, I got off the mattress and headed to the bathroom. I needed to take a shower, and when I twisted the tap and no water came out, I wasn't surprised. It was a hotel; when the crisis had arisen the guests had been evacuated and the building shut off.

It was weird that the guy from earlier didn't put it back on; why wasn't he using the building's potential? It was a fortress, the walkers couldn't possibly get inside, so why on Earth he hadn't exploited the resources of it? If he didn't do it so far, I was going to show him what this hotel was capable of.

He may dislike me, but it doesn't mean that I can't show him a trick or two. He thinks he doesn't need my help, but when he sees me in action, using the building's potential to the full, he's gonna beg for more tips—it's a given.

Quickly, I fished out a flashlight from my backpack, and exited my room to conduct reconnaissance around the hotel.

First of all, I had to get in the manager's office. I needed the blueprints, so I wouldn't wander the corridors aimlessly.

When I walked into the main hall, I spotted that guy, lying on the couch, playing with his gun. I just wanted to ignore his presence, but the urge to snicker was stronger than me. Why do I always have to be stuck with jerks? "You know..." I started, clearing my throat, "if we didn't have the conversation yesterday, I would think you're just waiting to execute me."

He chuckled.

"And what makes you think I'm not?" He mused, sitting up, and I just let out a scoff. "The apocalypse changed people. Trust me, lying isn't the worst thing one could do to you. The world is filled with either fucking zombies, or backstabbing bitches."

"Ha ha ha," I laughed awkwardly, slowly digesting the new information. He was right, I had to give him that. I had bumped into a few fucked up people, but even so, I believed there was still some good in them, even if it was really suppressed. "I think we're already past that stage of acquaintanceship."

"Yeah, keep tantalizing yourself." He retorted, and I rolled my eyes. It felt like talking to a wall, no matter how much I wanted to persuade him to cooperate with me, it was pointless. He had his mindset, and he followed it meticulously. "And I think we agreed on something, so please uphold your part of the deal."

I groaned at his response.

He was stubborn, and he really must've hated me, although I hadn't even given him a reason to. What was his problem? Was he acting like this to everyone? The situation was ridiculous; everybody with the absolute minimum of business sense knows that two plus two equals five!

"Oh, no! Please forgive me overstepping the boundaries you mighty acquaintance of mine." I replied sarcastically, bowing to him in a very dignified manner, ironically, of course. "I'm truly sorry, please return to doing whatever you were doing." I smiled sheepishly, pivoting the flashlight. "I shall not disturb your beauty sleep ever again." I added bitterly, taking slow steps backwards, watching his furious expression.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Wait—" he hollered at me. I knew he was intrigued. "What are you plotting?" He asked straightforwardly, squinting at me.

"Why don't you see it yourself?" I answered, sending him a lopsided smirk. "Chop, chop, we don't have the whole day." I rushed him, and turned around before I started walking away, knowing he would catch up with me.

Just as I wanted to look backwards, he was already beside me. "So... I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves. I'm Min Yoongi, and you are?"

What the hell is wrong with him? Earlier, he had almost shot me, and now the small talk?

Shrugging, I dismissed his question with a lie, quickly saying a random name. The person I had been before the outbreak is gone. Whenever others had called me by my real name, it only reminded me of the life before the apocalypse. I am a complete different person now, my old name remaining in my memory.

"So what do you need that flashlight for?" He inquired, pointing at the device in my hand. "You won't get us in trouble, will you?"

"Quite the opposite." I muttered casually, as I stopped in front of the manager's office. "So, here's the plan. We're going to find the blueprints for this hotel, find the power generator, and bring this baby back to life. As far as I know, every hotel must have one in case of emergency. Hopefully, no one has used it up yet." I explained, fighting with the locked doors.

"Stop," he spoke, gently shoving me aside with a light swing of his hips. "Why do you trouble yourself so much? It's not like the Internet, or anything works." He reasoned before he kicked the doors, breaking the lock. "Ladies first," he mocked, grinning widely at me.

"I don't know what about you, but I like to be comfortable once in a while. When the walkers wander around wanting to kill you, you barely have any time to relax. That's why I do this from time to time, I like to listen to music, and maybe if I get lucky, I will find an old DVD player and watch something fun." I replied with a shrug, sitting by the manager's desk.

"Wow, that's pretty hardcore." Yoongi commented sarcastically, folding his hands across his chest, leaning against the desk.

"Do you even want to help me?" I asked, sounding more annoyed than I actually was. He tagged along, but he did nothing to actually aid me. He just stood there, being completely futile.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, and shook his head. "But I am helping." He stated, pushing himself off the desk. "I just knocked the doors down; plus, I'm more of a mental support. Please, don't thank me."

"I wasn't going to," I muttered under my breath, skimming though the drawers. The blueprints had to be somewhere in there, and if Yoongi wasn't going to be much of a help, I had to take care of everything myself. "So, Yoongi..." I made a pause, waiting for him to give me his attention, "How did you end up here? Which way are you headed?"

"Me? Actually, I think I've lost my direction." He simply stated, and when I didn't say anything, he understood I anticipated the rest of the story. "When the crisis struck, I was on the trip with six of my friends. As soon as we heard the news, we wanted to return to our families. We relentlessly tried, but we just couldn't find our relatives."

Finally! Yoongi was opening up to me. I didn't particularly want to pry, but from experience, I knew that a conversation with someone could have a soothing effect. It was difficult to talk about one's struggles and ordeals, but in the end, some of the burden would eventually be lifted off his shoulders.

"Where are they now?"

"Dead." Yoongi answered simply, heaving a sigh.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." I spoke quietly, as I opened the cabinet, rummaging through the shelves, seeking for the blueprints. "You can talk to me about them, I'm a good listener. I guarantee it will make you feel a whole lot better."

"Right..." he trailed off, "I'd rather not."

I should've seen it coming; I didn't have a particular reason to have high expectations, but I still did and I was disappointed. He had a chance of liberating himself, and he didn't seize it.

"Okay, dude. Whenever you're ready." I spoke, and Yoongi glared at me as if I just killed his mother. "Whenever you're ready," I repeated quietly, not daring to look him in the eye. He wasn't wearing an exceptionally friendly expression, and I didn't wish to upset him any further. "I found the blueprints, hand me the marker." I ordered him, rolling the papers over the desk.

Carefully, I studied the sketching, encircling some of the rooms with the red marker. Yoongi looked over my shoulders, trying to decipher what the next part of my plan was. "The presidential suite? You didn't lie when you said you liked being comfortable." Yoongi snorted, rolling his eyes at me.

"Okay, let's go. I really want to take a bath in that fancy bathroom." I replied casually, furling the blueprints.

Yoongi and I went to the basement. Skillfully, I led us through the maze of narrow corridors to the power generator. The machine was gigantic, but it wasn't the first time I saw one, so I wasn't completely clueless. With Yoongi's assistance, we pried it open.

"What's next, Tesla?" Yoongi mocked, as he stared at the generator, and folded his arms across his chest.

Under the hood we found a thousand of switch buttons. Each button was turning power in a different room in the hotel, but thankfully, everything was featured in the blueprints.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, I got this." I voiced confidently, cracking my knuckles. "Let's see...," I trailed off, skimming the blueprints. "This button should turn on the lights in the basement." Chewing on my bottom lip in anticipation, I held my forefinger upon the switch. With my eyes closed, I pressed it, heaving a sigh when the corridor lit up. "Ha, I told you I got this!"

"Why do you sound surprised then?" He inquired, the echoes of his 'tsks' following his rhetorical question.

"You know..., there was a chance the generator was depleted." I reasoned with a shrug, and turned off my flashlight. Quickly, I switched on the electricity in the kitchen, the bar, the presidential suite, and Yoongi's room. "Now, we have to find the water valve, and we're all set." I stated, staring down at the blueprints, tracing my forefinger across the paper. I sought for our next target, but before I managed to locate it, Yoongi already pointed at it.

"After you."

***

My presidential suite was located at the top floor. It was pretty troublesome to climb up the stairs, but nonetheless, it was worth it. The second I opened the doors, I was welcomed by the posh interior; everything seemed so fancy and expensive. Hurriedly, I went to the wardrobe and pulled out two fluffy towels and a soft bathrobe. I desperately needed this shower.

Pushing the bathroom doors open, I quickly twisted the knob, the warm water slowly filling into the bathtub. Leisurely, I stripped, and kicked my sweaty clothes to the other side. In the cabinet, I found a sack of exquisite bath salt, and many other top-shelf products which were just begging to be used.

This place was a jackpot.

Slowly, I dipped my foot in the water, letting out a faint sigh. It was amazing, and it made me feel like a princess, or at least a president's daughter. Before the apocalypse, I wouldn't have been able to afford this, so ultimately, I could name a handful of perks. For instance, money lost its value, and I could live in luxury for a day or such.

I stayed in the bathtub until my fingertips looked like dried plums and the water turned cold. Carefully, I wrapped a mushy towel around my chest, and stepped onto a white carpet. "It's so amazing." I spoke to myself when I covered myself with a fluffy bathrobe.

Out of curiosity, I opened the walking-in closet, wondering if the person who had stayed during the outbreak left something behind. It must've been totally my day; I found plenty of designer dresses. One of them was even my size. Quickly, I grabbed the hanger to have a better look. It was a gold and silver sequin dress with rounded neckline, short sleeves and flared skirt. It looked fabulous, and I gasped when I read the designer label and the price tag.

I hurriedly tossed the dress on the king-size bed, and started rummaging through all the drawers, seeking for some clean lingerie, matching shoes and some accessories. I enjoyed the brief sensation of luxury, and I craved to live that dream even if it was going to last for one night only. I saw my chance, and I just seized it. The walkers deprived me of all pleasures, so for my brief stay in the hotel, I decided to pretend the virus never existed. Tonight was all about myself, and I was going to have the time of my life.

***

When I dolled myself up, I checked myself in the mirror. The Dolce sequin dress, a pair of four inches Mary Jane's covered in smooth velvet, the black, leather shoulder mini bag with a chain strap. I was wearing expensive clothes which before the apocalypse would cost me at least six months worth of salary. Moreover, I used extravagant make-up. I applied pale foundation, highlighted my eyes with gold glitter eyeshadow and thin contours of eyeliner, painted my lips with matt red lipstick, and wore beautiful Chanel perfume.

I stared at my reflection, yet I barely could recognise myself. With costly toilette and gorgeous makeup, I looked stunning. When fighting for my life, I couldn't have cared any less about my outer appearance. In the field, it had never mattered how I looked, so I'd simply stopped preening myself.

In a hurry, I left the room, proudly walking to the bar. Yoongi and I hadn't made any plans to meet up, but I really wanted him to be there. I ached for fun, and without anyone to accompany me, it wouldn't be even half as entertaining. I had been alone for so long; I could even withstand Yoongi's grumpy attitude. He was a human being, and at this point of my life, I couldn't be fussy.

Swiftly, I pushed the grand doors open. The interior looked impressive; it was a mix of a lounge bar and a casino. There was even a platform with a pole! Whoever owned this place knew how to party hard. Looking around, I approached the DJ's booth and studied the gear, quickly turning it on. It didn't even take me five minutes for the speakers to blast with David Bowie's songs.

Not wasting any time, I created a playlist of my favorite 70's and 80's songs. Swinging my hips and nodding my head to 'Let's Dance', I headed to the bar to make myself a fancy drink. Tonight had to be a blast, I thought as I placed the glass on the counter and poured the liquor. Earlier, I had been caught up in the apocalypse, and now, I deserved a drink, a dance, and a fuck.

"Fancy seeing you here, Yoongi." I tilted my glass, and smirked at him, as the doors burst open, Yoongi wearing his branded annoyed and angry expression. "What do you want? Tonight, everything's on the house!" I hollered, raising a full bottle of expensive Scotch. Promptly, he stormed toward the bar. He was wearing a clean white T-shirt and black ripped jeans. He didn't dress up, but he still looked amazing with his ruffled raven black hair.

"Are you insane?!" He yelled at me, throwing an empty glass across the room. "It's not party time! I knew you were going to get us killed." He added, as he sat on the stool on the other side of the counter, running his hand through his fluffy hair. "I should've kicked you out." He spoke with a sigh, and I just poured him some alcohol, sliding him a glass which he gladly accepted, downing it in one go.

"All offense taken by the way, and come on! Just live a little!" I said, slightly patting his shoulder. "We need some relaxation," I continued, refilling his glass, "they're not going to get us here, so why don't we have some fun? You know that song, right? A little party never killed nobody!" I added, as I smiled and clinked my glass against his in a simple toast. "Don't be so gloomy, tonight's all about joy."

"You're ridiculous. How am I supposed to be having fun when we're surrounded by the infected?" Yoongi snapped and yanked his hand away, as I attempted to pull him on the dance floor.

"Then when are you going to have fun, huh? When humanity wins? Sorry to break it to you, but it's unlikely to happen. We live in a world where people are the minority, I doubt we will ever make it to the top again." I stated, staring at him seriously. For one night, I didn't have to worry about anything, and he just had to ruin that concept for me. "Fuck you, Yoongi. It's now or never sort of situation, you either stay, or get the fuck out of here." Having blurted harsh words, I was met with silence—the cat got his tongue.

My statement was bitter, but he couldn't say anything to negate it. No matter how brutal it was, it was the truth. We were fucked, the game against the walkers long lost. Right now, we could just hide and enjoy the little things once in a while. If he really believed in a happy ending, he was a fool.

"You remind me of my friend." Yoongi spoke out of the blue, pouring himself a shot of vodka. "His name was Taehyung, and he was just as annoying." He continued, as he downed the alcohol, and I just leaned against the counter. He was giving in, I had to make him talk. I had no idea when the next opportunity would come. "Always the villain of the piece."

"Excuse you," I cleared my throat, as I looked him in the eye. Why was he always saying I was going to bring him trouble, whilst I hadn't done anything wrong; if anything, I just tuned things up so our stay would be as comfortable as possible. "Your acquaintanceship with me is highly beneficial. I don't get it why you want to get rid of me so much. Please, elaborate. I want to understand what's so corrupt about me."

"You're just like Taehyung." he sighed, smiling at the thought of his friend. "You act exactly like him; I watched him die, I don't want to witness it again. I learnt it from experience, your attitude will get you killed. If you're lucky enough, you won't bring anyone down with you. Unlike you, I prefer being safe than sorry."

"Since when enjoying oneself is a crime, huh?" I asked angrily, placing my hands on my hips. "Nothing's gonna happen; the building is secured—nobody will get through. Have a drink and dance with me, Yoongi." I spoke firmly, pushing myself off the counter, while Yoongi watched me with a raised eyebrow.

The moment I heard Rod Stewart's 'Da Ya Think I'm Sexy?', I snatched Yoongi's glass shot and drunk the alcohol, ignoring the burning sensation in my throat. I was going to party as if it was my last time.

"Come on, Yoongi. It's fun. Dance with me, dance like no one's watching." I said rather seductively, swaying my hips from side to side, trying to emphasize my curves.

"You're dancing like a twat." Yoongi commented, snorting with his head hung low.

"Possibly, but you are a twat," I retorted, and Yoongi glared at me. Ignoring his pissed attitude, I smiled at him and sang the chorus. "If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, come on sugar let me know."

"Ah, fuck it." Yoongi cursed, smashing his empty shot glass against the oak counter. With one smooth movement, he took off his leather jacket, smirking at me. "You're still dancing like a twat, though."

"Does it really matter? Regardless of how bad dancer I am, I'm still positive I get lucky today." I answered confidently, as I sneaked my arms around Yoongi's neck. Yoongi smirked at my words, as he placed his hands on my hips, pulling me closer.

Yoongi and I were obviously sex deprived, and although we weren't exactly fond of each other, I wouldn't miss out on riding him. We don't have to romantically like one another to fulfill our needs; we live in a world where romance is dead and I would be a complete moron if I didn't seize the given opportunity to jump his bones.

"Oh, really? Poor guy, he doesn't have any standards." Yoongi commented rudely, so I jabbed him in the ribs.

"So, you're saying, even in these awful circumstances, you choose to be fussy. Wow," I spoke, not even trying to conceal my amazement, "what's your type then?" I inquired, cocking my eyebrow, being genuinely curious. What was his game? Had he loved someone before the world ended, and now, he wandered the country, looking for her or her look-alikes? Was he into men? Was I seriously that repulsive, so he didn't even consider fucking me?

"I don't really have a type," Yoongi started, sending me a lopsided smirk, "but I like my girls with nice curves," he shrugged, as he smacked my hands off, and retreated to the bar, pouring himself a drink, ignoring my glass which sat empty on the counter.

Listening to music, occasionally humming, we drank. We barely knew each other, and although I wished to get to know him better, Yoongi was really cautious. He wouldn't open his lips until he was certain I could be trusted, or simply drunk to the point of being defenseless and chatty. I opted for the second alternative; there's no place for trust in the world we live.

"How did Taehyung die?" I finally asked, when Yoongi was visibly intoxicated. His movements weren't as sharp, and he even spilled some alcohol on the counter. He was a heavy drinker, but everyone has one's limits, and Yoongi just reached his.

"You ask so many questions, princess," Yoongi started, staring at me with scrunched up eyes. "Why do you care?" He asked, when he looked into my eyes, waiting for an honest response. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. Yoongi however, must've seen something in my eyes what screamed candor.

Playing with his glass of liquor, Yoongi conceded everything.

When people were warned about the z-virus, Yoongi and six of his friends were on a weekend-off in the mountains. The second they realized the danger, they wanted to return to their families. Unfortunately, all of them, except for Yoongi, died along the way. I could hear the pain in Yoongi's voice, as he spoke of his friends. It was visible, he missed them.

It was tragic, knowing how much we suffered, although our experiences were entirely different. I fought to survive, hoping that one day we would live our old lives, whereas Yoongi with his friends strived to return home.

Nowadays, I was wandering across the ruins, the glimmer of hope slowly fading away. Yoongi, on the other hand, was traveling across the country, trying to find his mother, although he perfectly knew the rate of success was oscillating around zero.

Yoongi had watched his friends die, and I could imagine how he must've felt; I had gone through the same when Chanmi had got infected.

"Enough," said Yoongi when he came back to his senses. He had never wanted to share any of his past with me, and when he realized he spilled everything, he was pissed. "Get lost," he barked, turning away from me.

At first, I really wanted to comply with his request. If I left, he wouldn't anger me any further, but after all, I decided otherwise. It was my night, and I wouldn't let him ruin it. Besides, I wasn't going to comfort him, I knew firsthand how annoying it could be. I wasn't going to feed him with lies about the bright future. It was common knowledge it was utter bullshit. I offered him a shoulder to cry on, not a full consolation.

"No," I replied, folding my arms across my chest. I wasn't going to move an inch. Maybe, I was being annoying and stubborn, but I didn't intend to give in. I couldn't let him boss me around. "I understand what you've gone through, I lost my family and my friend, I know how it feels. Moreover, I am not ashamed to talk about it. My advice? Get over it, mourning won't do you any good."

Once again, my words got him speechless. I was harsh, but that's exactly what he needed. He was alone for too long; he needed someone who would shake him up a bit and force him back on the right track, and right now, I was the best he got.

Yoongi nodded his head in comprehension, and I poured him another drink.

"What do you have in store, princess?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Entertain me," he murmured, and I smiled at him excitedly. Finally, he broke. He wasn't going to spoil all the fun; instead he was all in, giving himself into the pleasure.

Together, we exploit the bar. With drinks in our hands, and a bottle within our reach, we played darts, which in our state of mind was exceptionally amusing, as we missed the dartboard almost every time. Later, Yoongi and I hit the dance floor. He loosened up a lot, and I laughed so hard when he claimed himself the kind of the dance floor.

When we were all laughter and quick breath, we sat down by the table to blackjack where I was the dealer and Yoongi was the player. At first, we only flirted with each other and drank our drinks, but after a while, we were really keen on playing. Especially, when he was competing against each other, and the winner would get a prize accordingly to one's desire.

"Fuck this game," Yoongi cursed and threw his cards onto the table. Abruptly, he stood up and smashed his hands against the table, ducking his head as he leaned slightly forward. "You know what would be really fun?" Yoongi spoke, slowly tilting his head up with a lopsided smirk proudly sitting on his face.

"No, Yoongi, what would be really fun?" I said as seductively as I could, mirroring his stance. Slowly, we inched toward each other, and when we were about to kiss, Yoongi turned his head to the side, bursting out laughing.

"I hope you like it rough," he whispered in a low voice, staring into my eyes, his gaze haltingly landing on my lips. Immediately, I was enchanted by his look; I couldn't even voice a proper response. He shone with confidence and craving, letting me know who was the boss. I didn't mind; tonight I wanted to soar, and I doubted it would be possible with casual vanilla sex.

Quickly, Yoongi smashed his lips against mine, snaking his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me closer. Our mouths moved against perfectly unsynchronized, teeth clicking. His tongue ran over my lips before he sucked on my bottom lip, biting and tugging at it in atrocious manner. I just couldn't help myself, the urge to moan into his mouth wasn't something I could fight. It just came naturally; the only response I could give him when he kissed me so passionately, yet wantonly.

His other hand traveled down to my bottom, as he pulled me onto the table. I was like a marionette, willing to comply with his every request. Having my knees digging into the soft surface of the table, I leaned forward, kissing him hard, sucking on his tongue.

"Come here," Yoongi rasped out, as he grabbed my ass and sat me at the edge of the table, my legs dangling, Yoongi positioned in between them. Rather gently, he caressed my thighs, his touch making me needy for more. "You're too skinny, you're all bones." He commented and tightened his grip on my thigh, earning a hiss from me.

"Look who's talking," I snickered, slowly moving my legs up, wrapping them around his torso, pulling him closer. He smirked at me, buckling his dick against my sex, and I entwined my fingers behind his neck, forcing him toward me. "Do you want me to suck you off?" I purred into his ear, licking his earlobe. Yoongi wasn't yet hard, and I was more than excited to let him fuck my throat.

"Oh, princess, I have a hunch we're gonna get along just fine," he replied in a husky voice, as I ran my hand down his neck and broad shoulder. "On your knees," he growled, and I immediately complied, jumping off the table, kneeling in front of him. As soon as I tilted my head upwards, Yoongi ran his hand through my hair, pulling it when I undid the button of his jeans.

Quickly, I pulled down the zipper, and yanked his pants and boxers down to his ankles. With one fluid motion, I grabbed his flaccid member, giving it a few strokes. Yoongi moaned, urging me to take him in my mouth. He started to stiffen under my touch, and when he was semi-hard, I slowly licked his length from the tip down to the base, squeezing his balls lightly, yet making him moan.

His voice was sharp and erotic and lower than normally. It was the first time the sound of him made me excited and needy, unlike countless times in the past when I had simply wanted to slap him square on his handsome face for his snarky and fiendish comments.

"What are you waiting for, princess? Do you want me to fuck your throat?" Yoongi asked, gently tilting his head to the side, staring down at me with a lopsided smirk upon his face. Slowly, he traced his fingers across my jaw, making me meet his lustful eyes. "How's it gonna be, huh?" he continued, and I brushed my lips with my tongue.

Having shaken my head and rolled my eyes, I leaned in, slowly wrapping my mouth around his cock; first off, I focused on its top, sucking it quite eagerly. Almost immediately, Yoongi grunted, shut his eyes close, and placed his hands on his hips, arching his back, letting me take care of his cock. Much to Yoongi's pleasure, I flattened my tongue, as I licked him, concentrating on the popping vein.

"Go harder, princess," Yoongi whispered, urging me to step up the game, "I can handle a lot more," he added unnecessarily, as he wrapped my hair around his hand, forcing his cock down my throat. At first, I gagged, but when his grip got weaker and I regained control, I bobbed my head back and fro, swallowing him deeper each time. "Yeah, that's more like it," he hissed, as he fucked my throat.

Despite the mutual hatred, the sound of his moans and grunts sent shivers down my spine. He didn't even properly touched me, but I could feel that my panties were with soaked with arousal. I had been sex-deprived for so long, I might just come solely due to his enticing voice. Without noticing, I got carried away with my thoughts, but Yoongi couldn't really complain when I moaned onto his cock, firing him with the vibrations.

"Ah, Yoongi," I purred, as I pulled away with a loud pop, "touch me, I need your fingers and your cock, please, my pussy is throbbing for your touch," I whispered desperately, my pride long forgotten. Blowing him was an amazing experience, and I didn't really mind doing it again in the near future; however, right now, I needed him to take care of me and my desires. If he made me come, I'd gladly return the favor.

"I really wanted to come on your face, though." Yoongi spoke casually, staring down at me, as I was still on my knees in front of him, "all is not lost yet," he added before he placed the tip of his middle finger on my chin, making me look up. "Come on, princess, let me see how wet you are for me," Yoongi helped me to stand up, and once I straightened up, his hand touched my inner thigh, slowly raking up my fancy dress, cupping my folds. "Fuck, you really did enjoy sucking me off, princess."

"You have no idea, your cock is amazing," I mewled, gently brushing my fingertips against his chest, "I want you to fuck me hard, Yoongi. Make me come on your cock, please," I begged and Yoongi tugged my panties to the side, delicately caressing my slit, "please,"

"Don't worry that pretty head of yours, I will take care of you just fine," Yoongi said in a low voice, smirking at me, "spread your legs for me, princess," he commanded, and I obeyed immediately. Swiftly, he positioned himself in between my legs, as he grabbed my thighs and hoisted me up, "let me eat you out, prepare for best head you've ever had," he added, placing me back on the blackjack table, pulling my panties down, putting them into his pocket.

"Are you always so cocky?" Raising my eyebrow, I asked, yet my questioned remained unanswered, as he put my legs on his shoulder which allowed him a better access to my drenching folds.

"You know it, princess," he whispered, as he ducked his head forward, kissing my folds. Yoongi stuck his tongue out, and ran it down my slit, making me buck my hips into his face. The slightest of his touches made me strive for more; the tip of his tongue barely rubbed me, yet I, with all my being, trembled for more. Eagerly, Yoongi moved his mouth against my folds, his tongue rubbing all the right places, making me tense in many short-lived heats of excitement. He was playing with me, taking his time, savoring my taste.

"You may be soaking wet, but it must've been a while since someone stretched you properly," Yoongi hissed, as he eased his middle finger inside of me. In response, I moaned, and buckled my hips onto his hand, needing him much deeper. Just as if I begged him to, Yoongi understood I pined for another finger. "How are you going to handle my cock if you're so tight around my fingers?"

"If anything, I like it rough," I moaned, closing my eyes, giving into the pleasure of Yoongi's digits ramming in and out, "so good," I purred the second he attached his lips back on my clit, sucking it rather gently. The heart-stopping difference between gentle licks of his tongue and rugged thrusts of his slender fingers almost threw me off the edge; just when I was about to come, Yoongi pulled out. "You ate me out so well; you should've let me come on your tongue."

"Oh, no. You have to earn it, princess." Yoongi stated casually, as he straightened himself up, and once again found his position between my legs. "Will you be a good girl for me?" he asked, and I obediently nodded, "then why don't you jump off that table and bend for me?"

"Fuck me, Yoongi," I breathed out, as I devotedly complied with his command. My chest was lying on the table, wrists pinned against the surface, my butt slightly stuck upwards. Yoongi was standing behind me, the music in the background completely silencing his breathing. Suddenly, I felt his cold hands on my butt cheeks, pulling the dress over my ass. Gently, he massaged me, and when I moaned due to fondness, he spanked me. At first, it hurt, but the second I hissed in pain, he placed his hand where it started to string, and caressed it lightly.

"You're so desperate for my cock," Yoongi growled, running his hands across my butt, up to my sides. "How much do you want me to fuck your pussy?" he asked, and I turned my head to sneak a glance at him, as he pulled my butt, rubbing his hard cock against me.

"So much, Yoongi. If you don't fuck me right now, I'll just jump your bones." I admitted shamelessly, wishing him to comply. "Please, Yoongi, fuck me and I'll let you do anything to me."

Instantly, Yoongi grabbed his cock, and rubbed its tip against my folds. "God, you're such a slut for me, princess." He breathed out, as he eased his length inside of me. I moaned, when he entered me, my walls tightly wrapping around him. "Fuck, you're so warm," Yoongi teased, gripping my sides, holding onto me as he creased his speed.

"Ahh, fuck," I cried out, shutting my eyes close. Yoongi was pounding inside of me, his thrusts quick and powerful, making my front dig into the table. "Yoongi, you fill me up so well," I whispered, gritting my teeth in pleasure. I was tensed, my lower parts throbbing for him, his length moving in and out, leaving me a breathless mess, "fuck—

"That's right, moan for me, princess." Yoongi spoke, digging his fingers in my hips, my skin turning red while his knuckles white. "Fuck," he hissed when he pulled out of me, "tell me, princess. How do you want to be fucked, huh?" Yoongi rasped, pulling me by my hair, so my back smashed against his chest. Closing my eyes, I raised my hand and gently touched his jaw, while Yoongi stroke his cock a couple of times before he rubbed it against my folds furiously.

"I don't care," I confessed, as I spun around, and raked my hands across his chest, wanting to get rid of his white T-shirt. "Just do it, I was so close," I answered, pulling my dress over my head, tossing it away.

"Your breasts look amazing in that bra," Yoongi complimented, and leaned forward to kiss my cleavage. The bra was black with many decorative straps which looked really good, contrasting with my milky white skin. "I mean it," he added, cupping my breasts, giving it a sudden squeeze.

"Yoongi," I purred, sitting on the table with spread legs, "please, I don't think I can wait any longer." I confessed, whining a little since he had denied me of two orgasms. I had to come, it wasn't funny any more. "You proved your point, now, please let me come."

"Anything for you, princess," Yoongi replied, as he grabbed his cock, harshly grinding it into me.

"Hurry up, I need to come," I begged, as Yoongi spat on his hand, and coated my pussy with his saliva, "please," I breathed out, trying to refrain from sounding any more desperate, "you're killing me,"

Without any warning, Yoongi snapped his hips, filling me up with his cock. Firmly, he was holding my legs, his fists around my ankles, so I wouldn't pressed my legs together, severely striving for more friction. My every muscle was tensed, my orgasm nearing, yet it was beyond my reach; Yoongi had to touch me, or at least let me touch myself. The sensation was building up within me, but it couldn't be released.

"Ah, that's right princess." Yoongi growled, ramming inside of me, sweat formed on his forehead, his bangs already wet, sticking to his skin. It was definitely the sexiest he had ever looked. "You clench around me so tight," he whispered, as he relaxed his grip on my ankle, quickly wrapping his slender fingers around my neck. "Fuck, princess, you're so hot."

His grasp was sturdy, choking me. I had trouble with breathing and moaning, but it didn't really hurt me. If anything, it made me even more aroused. I was excited, wondering how much I could handle.

"How do you like that, princess?" Yoongi asked, slamming his hips, his cock hitting my sweet spot. I bucked my hips upwards, ready to welcome an approaching feeling of bliss, and Yoongi pressed his hand against my clit, rubbing it brutally. "Come on my cock," he howled, tightening his grip around my neck.

Just when Yoongi squeezed the column of my throat with one hand, and rubbed my folds with another, I came on his throbbing cock. I covered his length with my juices, but Yoongi didn't seem to bother, as he chased his own release, his thrusts much slower and deeper.

The orgasm set my body ablaze; every fibre of muscle was buring, and I gladly embraced the feeling. Right then, I felt like I died and went straight to heaven. It was the first time someone fucked me so hard, and I enjoyed more than I was willing to admit.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Yoongi moaned, as he threw his head backwards, reaching his peak. His voice sounded rough and animalistic, as he pushed himself inside of me, filling me with his semen, "fucking amazing," he added, panting heavily. Slowly, he placed his hands on my sides, pulling me up, so he could place a chaste kiss on my forehead.

"I want more, Yoongi," I whispered, staring into his eyes. I got to taste him, and I needed more of him. No matter how blissful he made me feel, it wasn't enough. I desired much more; Yoongi bending me according to his will, testing out different techniques and positions. Practically, I'd do anything he would ask for.

"Do you want to ride my cock?" Yoongi asked, biting my earlobe playfully. "Let's meet in your room in ten minutes," he quickly added before he collected his clothes and exited the bar lounge.

***

After that night, Yoongi and I rolled in the sheets practically every night. Not even once, he missed a chance to rest in his own suite; he was always knocking on my doors before the clocks struck midnight. However; despite our night escapades, we still didn't get along outside the bedroom, even if we were quite compatible in bed. The sex was amazing—Yoongi always had me begging for more.

Whenever we met in the hallways, the atmosphere was thick. One could say we were polar opposites, and the longer I knew him, I could only agree more with that saying. At this point in our lives, Yoongi was cautious at every step he made, while I risked at every given chance, as I kept asking myself, 'what worse can happen?'. I had been living the worst scenario for quite a long time, I truly doubted it could get any worse.

"This city used to be so bustling, right now, it lies in ruins," Yoongi commented casually, as he smoked his cigarette on the balcony. It was around two at night, as we just finished fucking. Covered in sweat, I put on a fluffy bathrobe, and joined him, leaning over the barrier beside him. "I was here on the school trip when I was sixteen, the difference is dreadful. It was illuminated with so many lights, you couldn't tell it was day or night. Right now, it's all gone."

"You shouldn't dwell on the past," I sighed, carefully watching the city. In the distance, I could see smoke, it must've been either the walkers or people who fought and lost with them. "It's been a month since we got here. It was a perfect sanctuary, but don't you think we should leave?" I asked, trying to choose my words wisely; I didn't need to argue with him about us. We were fucking; no romantic strings present. We don't even like each other, let alone love. Nonetheless, I didn't want to start my journey alone.

"You tell me; how long the power generator is going to work? I must say, you spoilt me," Yoongi jested, his eyes focused on the ruins in front of us.

"Not much, enough to turn the hotel into a trap." I answered, mentioning my plan which Yoongi negated a couple of times before.

"I thought I already told you what I think about it. You want to pull 'home alone' gig on the fuckin' zombies. It's not going to work, princess." Flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the street, Yoongi shrugged. I expected this kind of reaction from him anyway, he rejected it so many times, I stopped counting.

"But I thought this through, it is going to work," I exclaimed rather loudly, wanting to at least obtain his attention. "I realise you don't want to put your live in danger, but my plan is good; it won't get us killed." Slowly, I sighed and looked him in the eyes, "it's a sequence of a few simple steps and if we follow the procedure accordingly, we will survive, killing dozens of the walkers."

"This may work in theory, in practice it can fail miserably." Yoongi spoke, staring into my eyes. "I've lost six of my best friends. At first, we were fighters, but those reckless heroics were the sole reasons for their death. I learned that lesson when I lost them; right now, I want to play it safe. Sorry, but my answer is no," he finished, smiling faintly at me, as he didn't want me to take that rejection personally. He just didn't have faith in my idea, and although it was difficult for me, I should respect his decision.

"Why Yoongi?" I started, trying to suppress my urge to cry. I was about to be really mean, spilling harsh truths, hurting his feelings. "I know how you feel; been there, done that. It's all in the past, though. They're dead, and nothing you can do to bring them back. That's exactly why you shouldn't hide away in the shadows until a walker eventually kills you. What's the point, really? We'll all die ultimately so why die as a scaredy-cat when you can die as a fucking legend?"

Yoongi was mute; he knew what I was saying was legitimate, and that stirred second thoughts. My proposition was risky, and, if conducted incorrectly, could get us both killed. Nonetheless, I was sure of success. With the preparation done right, there was no space for mistake. We both were going to make it and slaughter some zombies along the way.

"Okay, fuck it. Let's kill these motherfuckers."

***

The very next day, we started the preparation. My plan consisted of four parts: groundwork, decoy, attack and evacuation—each aspect equally important. We had to be ready for everything; if we failed in one area, the whole strategy would fall through. At this point, a single mistake could cost us a life, so each step of the scheme must've run like a clockwork, and although it consumed a lot of work and time, Yoongi and I were determined to be diligently prepared.

Our rota was quite long, and items listed were difficult to obtain. It didn't hold us back, though. The search for components took us almost two weeks, but having put an enormous amount of effort, we found everything we needed to succeed.

"I think we're all set," Yoongi commented, as he lay down on the couch, wiping sweat off his forehead. Loudly, he inhaled and exhaled, wanting to rest a little. The quest of collecting needed equipment was done, but it didn't mean we could rest. The end of preparation only signified the D-Day was approaching.

Sighing, I plopped in the armchair and rubbed my face in hope I'd get rid of signs of fatigue. Slowly, I closed my eyes, visualising the sequence of events in my mind, making sure that we were thoroughly prepared. I envisioned every probability I could think of—in case of failure, we had a backup plan. Hopefully, we wouldn't be forced to exploit it, since it had a lower rate of survival than the original scheme.

"This is it, then," I spoke half-heartedly, sneaking a peek of his frame. "We should psych up, shouldn't we?"

Just when my voice rung in his ears, he opened his right eye, and looked at me, "are you afraid?"

"Not really," I answered easily, shrugging. The concept of death wasn't foreign to me. I had contemplated it countless times before, and although, I had never been able to take my own life away, dying like a hero, in an act of bravado was something I could accept. At least, I'd know my death didn't go to waste. "What about you?" I inquired, turning my head to look at him.

"Me neither," Yoongi replied in dismissing manner, "it's fine if we don't make it. I kind of embraced the idea of death long time ago," he confessed, staring into my eyes, finding affinity.

No matter how different we were, I could relate.

"Do you want to fuck?" I proposed, and Yoongi didn't even bother to answer. He just held my hand, and led me upstairs where we could satiate our desires one last time. We both were bitter about it, but we knew that our purpose was something greater. Even if we didn't kill every infected, our mission would be a major contribution in dreams of defeating them.

Hopefully, our heroics would be remembered.

***

The morning came earlier than either of us wanted to. It was a nice day; the sky was clear of a beautiful colour of blue. It screamed peacefulness, but I knew it was going to be an exact opposite. Everything was going down; it was the beginning of a partisan war between us and the walkers. For some people, our mission could be silly, but perhaps, others would be inspired. Maybe, our devil-may-care acts would kindle the glimmer of hope in fellow survivors.

Yoongi was sleeping tranquilly on his side of the king-sized bed. He looked at ease, breathing calmly, his hair messy, his eyelashes casting a shadow on his beautiful face.

Collecting my thoughts, I cleared my throat, and elbowed him, "wake up, it's the D-Day," I murmured, watching him roll in the sheets.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," Yoongi growled before I managed to swing my hand and slap him across his face. "Disturbing my sleep is one thing, but hitting my face? Girl, you don't wanna know what I'd do to you."

"Get ready, it's showtime," I spoke casually, as I jumped off the bed, and approached the wardrobe, seeking for comfortable clothes. Quickly, I dressed myself up, and shot a glare at Yoongi who was still lying on the sheets, trying to fall back to sleep. "I'm going downstairs to unlock the doors, if you don't blast the music at 9:30, I'm going to go to the rooftop and fucking kill you myself," I threatened before I left the room, purposely slamming the doors, making sure he was wide awake.

Since I was faster, I had to go downstairs and get rid of the barricade, so the walkers could get inside the hotel, following the sounds of music. Yoongi's task was to turn on the sound equipment which we had previously set up on the rooftop. The infected had an amazing sense of hearing, and we were going to use it to our own advantage, luring them inside.

The speakers were emitting sounds which could be heard in approximately 500 meters radius. Mindlessly, they would wander into our trap.

Yoongi was going to play the music within seven minutes, and I still had to open the parking lot doors and run to my hideaway—the emergency stairs on the fifth floor. I had to hurry if I wanted to make it on time. It was ridiculously dangerous for me to be in the open area which would be packed with zombies in a matter of minutes.

Wiping sweat off my forehead, I looked at my wrist watch. Two minutes. It took me more than I had expected, but I was still positive that I could reach my destination on time if I didn't make any unnecessary stops. The doors got stuck, but after a fierce fight, I slid it up over my head, and swiftly run inside.

I was panting when I pushed the emergency staircase doors open. Desperately trying to catch my breath, I leaned against the wall, supporting my frame by placing my palms on top of my knees. That was when I heard the music—the smile crept upon my face, as I realised Yoongi's choice. I giggled, carelessly tapping my fingers in the rhythm of A-ha's 'Take on Me'.

By the end of the song, I was certain we were heard by the walkers.

Right now, I was waiting for a sign from Yoongi. During the preparation, we had been fighting about that sign we could use, and after a heated debate, we had agreed upon a fifteen second long pause. The sound of silence meant that a significant amount of walkers gathered in front of the hotel, and I could set one end of gasoline-dampened sheet on fire and run to the rooftop.

Patiently waiting and occasionally singing along, I played with the lighter in my hands.

'It's a simple mechanism', I thought. I'd torch the sheets, the chain reaction would do the rest. The rope made out of sheets would catch on fire, trailing a burning path down to the lobby, and once the sufficient heat reaches the fire sprinkler system, causing the bulb to shatter, the zombies would be sprayed with fuel which would only enhance the conflagration. Moreover, for more spectacular outcome, we planted a few boxes filled with extremely flammable cans.

It was going to work.

It had to.

Suddenly, the music stopped. I knew it was my cue, so without further ado, I crouched and ignited the white sheet. I jumped up a little, seeing the rag catch on fire with a tiny explosion. It frightened me, although it was just a piece of material dipped with fuel. Now, I began to wonder what kind of blast I was going to face when the hell in the lobby erupts.

Anxiously, I swallowed hard, running three stairs at a time. The hotel was tall, and I had to make it on time. It was difficult to estimate, but in my luckiest assumptions, I had two minutes, give or take. It required a lot of time for the fire to spread on the higher storeys, yet it wasn't what I feared.

I dreaded that the fire sprinkler system wouldn't handle the heat and simply explode; instead showering the walkers with flames, it would blow up, making the building ultimately collapse.

Halfway up, I was almost completely drained of the energy; my breath was shallow, my arms thrice as heavy. I felt as if the air was being knocked out of my lungs, as I strived to push myself forward. Not even a storey further, I could taste blood on my tongue. Normally, I'd hide away and take a break. Right now, it wasn't an option, so I clenched my fists and rushed upstairs.

Maybe a minute later, an awful reek hit my nose. That stench was a sign that those motherfuckers finally burnt in hell.

Just when I smiled, feeling the sensation of victory, the floor underneath my feet shook slightly. The complications—my worst apprehension finally struck. It really wasn't the place, nor time to whine about sore muscles, I preached. The building was about to cave in, I had to get the fuck out of there.

"What the fuck took you so long?" I heard Yoongi's holler, as I pushed the rooftop doors open. He was worried, waiting for me with the zip lining equipment for me in his hands. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, put this on before the hotel fucking crumbles down," he hissed, helping me to put the gear on.

"You go first," I quickly mentioned, as we both lined up by the barrier, "I'll be right behind you." I added, gripping onto the pulley and the rappel device, being ready to immediately attach them to the rope and slide right down it to to the rooftop of a different building.

"See you in a minute," he smiled gently at me before focusing on the gear in his hands, skillfully maneuvering them.

That was it; the fourth and final phase of the plan. Unfortunately, the previous steps didn't go as smoothly as we had formulated it, but in the end, I could consider it a success. The zombies were scorching in flames, while Yoongi and I were quite alive.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Yoongi's voice echoed in my mind, although my brain must've made that up, given his current location and the noise around me. It wasn't possible for me to hear him, but it still rang in my ears, sounding as real and rude as ever.

Quickly, trying not to look down, I pushed myself off the rooftop, sliding toward the other building. The time up there flew so fast, I didn't even realise when I was on the other side of the rope, Yoongi helping me to get out of the zip line equipment.

"Let's go; we're not safe yet." Yoongi reminded me, as he held my hand, pulling me with him.

"God, I fucking hate running," I commented, as we rushed down the emergency stairs, desperately wanting to reach the motorcycles which we had prepared days before.

Although we had never discussed it, it was pretty obvious it was the end of our journey together. Yoongi and I were different people with dissimilar agendas. No matter how much I wanted to keep him as my companion, it didn't make any sense.

"Hurry," Yoongi urged me, as he swung his leg over the motorcycle, and turned the engine on, rushing me to do the same. In an instant, I copied his moves, and we both drove away, leaving the crumbing hotel behind us.

On the outskirts of the city, Yoongi finally stopped the vehicle. I assumed he wanted to properly say goodbye to me, but what I heard completely threw me off. My heart warmed up in an instant, my lips forming a wide smile, as his short question lingered in the air.

"Do you mind if I stick around?"

***

[gordonwilliamsweb]

Pediatric Practices Struggle To Adapt And Survive Amid COVID-19

BERKELEY, Calif. — The silence was striking.

On a normal day, the well-child waiting room at Berkeley Pediatrics bustles with children playing, infants crying and teenagers furiously tapping on their smartphones.

On a recent Monday, the room was deserted, save for a bubbling tropical fish tank and a few empty chairs. Every book, puzzle and wooden block had been confiscated to prevent the spread of the coronavirus. There was not a young patient to be seen.

Since March 17, when San Francisco Bay Area officials issued the nation’s first sweeping orders for residents to shelter in place, patient volume at the 78-year-old practice has dropped by nearly 60%. In accordance with guidance from the American Academy of Pediatrics, its seven doctors have canceled well-child visits for almost all children older than 18 months. And some parents balk at bringing in even babies for vaccines, opening the door to another potential crisis down the road.

In the days after the COVID-19 clampdown, the office scrambled to set up telehealth for sick visits. Still, this small, independent practice has gone from seeing more than 100 patients a day to about 40. It has laid off six staff members, and the physicians have taken a 40% pay cut.

“I’ve been practicing for a long time, and I’ve seen a lot of things. This is a very different beast,” said Dr. Annemary Franks, who joined the practice in 1993. “I’ve never seen in a week the entire thing fall apart.”

Michel participates in a virtual meeting with her colleagues at the practice, who can’t physically be in the same room together.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Across the U.S., thousands of pediatric practices that provide front-line care for the nation’s children are struggling to adjust to a dire new reality: crashing revenue, terrified parents and a shortage of protective equipment, from gloves and goggles to thermometer covers. And all while they are being asked to care for young patients who could well be infected with COVID-19 — and prime vectors for transmission — without showing symptoms.

How well these practices adapt will be key as the nation looks to weather the pandemic: Pediatric offices provide a crucial release valve for the health care system by treating the broken bones, lacerations, colds, flus and chronic illnesses that might otherwise flood overburdened emergency departments.

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“If it’s a month or two of care this way, OK. But if this is months and months and months, we’re going to see more practices go under,” said Franks. “We don’t have some pot of money that we have sitting around to get us through this. We’re fee-for-service. You get paid for what you do.”

Like many practices, Berkeley Pediatrics improvised overnight in the face of COVID-19. The brown-shingled Craftsman that houses the practice was quickly divided into two halves: upstairs for well patients, downstairs for those who are sick. They opened a back entrance up an unused set of stairs so well patients could bypass the sick.

Before they get an appointment, all children are screened by phone for signs of the virus. When possible, sick children are treated via a video visit. If a child with respiratory symptoms needs to be seen in person, a doctor meets the child in the family’s car in the parking lot, dressed in gown, gloves and face shield. Everyone who enters the office — whether child or caregiver — is checked for fever. The practice has only 75 plastic thermometer covers left, and supplies are on backorder. The doctors wear surgical masks even for well-child visits.

“Every day I think to myself, ‘That’s exactly the opposite of what I was taught in medical school and what I was trained to do,’” said Dr. Olivia Lang, another physician at Berkeley Pediatrics. “I’m not supposed to wear masks and scare my patients, but I’m doing it every day.”

Patient volume at the 78-year-old Berkeley Pediatrics practice in Berkeley, California, has dropped by nearly 60% since March 17, when San Francisco Bay Area officials issued the nation’s first sweeping orders for residents to shelter in place. The practice has laid off six staff members and physicians have taken a 40% pay cut.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Telehealth makes eye contact challenging, she said. And in an effort to avoid in-person appointments, health care providers have resorted to prescribing antibiotics over the phone for symptoms suggesting ear infections and strep throat, without doing lab work. “We’re supposed to be good stewards of antibiotics, and that’s being dismantled,” Lang said.

Another challenge is the availability of personal protective equipment, a struggle for all health care workers. Pediatric practices do not routinely keep stocks of the heavy-duty N95 masks, and they seldom use gowns or even simple surgical masks. Now, with hospitals facing critical shortages of PPE, pediatricians are often low on the list to get supplies.

Dr. Kristen Haddon, a pediatrician outside Boston, said the practice didn’t jump to purchase supplies when cases of the novel coronavirus first emerged in Washington state in January. “It felt very far away and seemed very isolated,” she said. By the time they realized the virus was widespread, “there was nothing to be had.” They had no N95s, gowns or goggles, and only two boxes of surgical masks.

Pediatricians are considered at particular risk of infection, given preliminary research that suggests children infected with COVID-19 are more likely than adults to have mild cases and may be contagious while showing no symptoms at all. “We have absolutely no idea who is infected and who isn’t,” said Haddon. “Kids cough and sneeze in our face all the time. And one cough could be really bad for me.”

Following the COVID-19 outbreak, Berkeley Pediatrics in Berkeley, California, quickly divided its brown-shingled Craftsman building into two halves: upstairs for well patients, downstairs for those who are sick. They opened a back entrance, up an unused set of stairs, so well patients could bypass the sick.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Dr. Niki Saxena, a pediatrician in Redwood City, California, said her practice is carefully guarding the handful of N95s they have left from the SARS epidemic and have had to make “some very scary decisions” about how to protect staff. Their options, she said, are to shut down the office — in which case they would go out of business — or to be very precise about when they use protective equipment.

“When you’re in battle, you have to keep your powder dry until you have to use it,” she said. “When I see someone walking through the grocery store with an N95, it takes all my willpower not to rip it off their face.”

At Berkeley Pediatrics, staff members are wiping down gowns after seeing a patient and simply reusing them. When she gets home, said Dr. Katrina Michel, she stops in the garage, strips off her clothing and leaves it on the floor. She tells her two young children not to touch her until she’s had a chance to shower. “I’ve never been afraid to go to work for my personal safety before,” she said.

She worries, too, for the well-being of her patients, as the efforts to contain the novel coronavirus increasingly interrupt basic care. Across the country, pediatricians report that some parents are canceling routine checkups and vaccination appointments — including first-time vaccinations for infants — because they worry about getting infected at the office.

Michel says that when she gets home, she stops in the garage, strips off her clothing and leaves it on the floor. She tells her two young children not to touch her until she’s had a chance to shower. “I’ve never been afraid to go to work for my personal safety before,” she says.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

“We don’t want to create a pertussis outbreak because we didn’t vaccinate all of our babies on time,” said Michel.

Many practices are delaying booster shots for older kids. Dr. Tina Carrol-Scott, a Miami pediatrician, said she’s concerned that the mixed messaging could backfire with parents who are vaccine-hesitant. “If we start taking the stance that because of coronavirus it’s OK for you to be delayed a month or two, it kind of takes away our credibility as physicians,” she said. “Parents are going to say, ‘Well, it was OK to delay during coronavirus, why not now?’”

And it’s not just missed vaccinations that are a concern. Pediatricians are tracking growth and development at well-child visits. For newborns, that includes checks for weight loss, jaundice and congenital diseases.

“We’ve had parents of infants who are 1 week old say, ‘Oh I don’t want to come in; I don’t think it’s safe,’” said Dr. Scott Needle, a pediatrician in Sacramento, California. “We’ve had to tell them, ‘Look, for a 1-week-old baby just out of the hospital, there are a lot of things you need to check that could be much more dangerous than coronavirus at this point.’”

Saxena said the caseload at her Redwood City practice is less than 25% of what’s typical, and warned of even broader ramifications on child health care as the pandemic wears on.

“If people stop going to the doctor altogether,” she said, “then primary care practices will shutter just like movie theaters and restaurants.”

Pediatric Practices Struggle To Adapt And Survive Amid COVID-19 published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

[stephenmccull]

Pediatric Practices Struggle To Adapt And Survive Amid COVID-19

BERKELEY, Calif. — The silence was striking.

On a normal day, the well-child waiting room at Berkeley Pediatrics bustles with children playing, infants crying and teenagers furiously tapping on their smartphones.

On a recent Monday, the room was deserted, save for a bubbling tropical fish tank and a few empty chairs. Every book, puzzle and wooden block had been confiscated to prevent the spread of the coronavirus. There was not a young patient to be seen.

Since March 17, when San Francisco Bay Area officials issued the nation’s first sweeping orders for residents to shelter in place, patient volume at the 78-year-old practice has dropped by nearly 60%. In accordance with guidance from the American Academy of Pediatrics, its seven doctors have canceled well-child visits for almost all children older than 18 months. And some parents balk at bringing in even babies for vaccines, opening the door to another potential crisis down the road.

In the days after the COVID-19 clampdown, the office scrambled to set up telehealth for sick visits. Still, this small, independent practice has gone from seeing more than 100 patients a day to about 40. It has laid off six staff members, and the physicians have taken a 40% pay cut.

“I’ve been practicing for a long time, and I’ve seen a lot of things. This is a very different beast,” said Dr. Annemary Franks, who joined the practice in 1993. “I’ve never seen in a week the entire thing fall apart.”

Michel participates in a virtual meeting with her colleagues at the practice, who can’t physically be in the same room together.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Across the U.S., thousands of pediatric practices that provide front-line care for the nation’s children are struggling to adjust to a dire new reality: crashing revenue, terrified parents and a shortage of protective equipment, from gloves and goggles to thermometer covers. And all while they are being asked to care for young patients who could well be infected with COVID-19 — and prime vectors for transmission — without showing symptoms.

How well these practices adapt will be key as the nation looks to weather the pandemic: Pediatric offices provide a crucial release valve for the health care system by treating the broken bones, lacerations, colds, flus and chronic illnesses that might otherwise flood overburdened emergency departments.

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Please confirm your email address below:

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“If it’s a month or two of care this way, OK. But if this is months and months and months, we’re going to see more practices go under,” said Franks. “We don’t have some pot of money that we have sitting around to get us through this. We’re fee-for-service. You get paid for what you do.”

Like many practices, Berkeley Pediatrics improvised overnight in the face of COVID-19. The brown-shingled Craftsman that houses the practice was quickly divided into two halves: upstairs for well patients, downstairs for those who are sick. They opened a back entrance up an unused set of stairs so well patients could bypass the sick.

Before they get an appointment, all children are screened by phone for signs of the virus. When possible, sick children are treated via a video visit. If a child with respiratory symptoms needs to be seen in person, a doctor meets the child in the family’s car in the parking lot, dressed in gown, gloves and face shield. Everyone who enters the office — whether child or caregiver — is checked for fever. The practice has only 75 plastic thermometer covers left, and supplies are on backorder. The doctors wear surgical masks even for well-child visits.

“Every day I think to myself, ‘That’s exactly the opposite of what I was taught in medical school and what I was trained to do,’” said Dr. Olivia Lang, another physician at Berkeley Pediatrics. “I’m not supposed to wear masks and scare my patients, but I’m doing it every day.”

Patient volume at the 78-year-old Berkeley Pediatrics practice in Berkeley, California, has dropped by nearly 60% since March 17, when San Francisco Bay Area officials issued the nation’s first sweeping orders for residents to shelter in place. The practice has laid off six staff members and physicians have taken a 40% pay cut.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Telehealth makes eye contact challenging, she said. And in an effort to avoid in-person appointments, health care providers have resorted to prescribing antibiotics over the phone for symptoms suggesting ear infections and strep throat, without doing lab work. “We’re supposed to be good stewards of antibiotics, and that’s being dismantled,” Lang said.

Another challenge is the availability of personal protective equipment, a struggle for all health care workers. Pediatric practices do not routinely keep stocks of the heavy-duty N95 masks, and they seldom use gowns or even simple surgical masks. Now, with hospitals facing critical shortages of PPE, pediatricians are often low on the list to get supplies.

Dr. Kristen Haddon, a pediatrician outside Boston, said the practice didn’t jump to purchase supplies when cases of the novel coronavirus first emerged in Washington state in January. “It felt very far away and seemed very isolated,” she said. By the time they realized the virus was widespread, “there was nothing to be had.” They had no N95s, gowns or goggles, and only two boxes of surgical masks.

Pediatricians are considered at particular risk of infection, given preliminary research that suggests children infected with COVID-19 are more likely than adults to have mild cases and may be contagious while showing no symptoms at all. “We have absolutely no idea who is infected and who isn’t,” said Haddon. “Kids cough and sneeze in our face all the time. And one cough could be really bad for me.”

Following the COVID-19 outbreak, Berkeley Pediatrics in Berkeley, California, quickly divided its brown-shingled Craftsman building into two halves: upstairs for well patients, downstairs for those who are sick. They opened a back entrance, up an unused set of stairs, so well patients could bypass the sick.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Dr. Niki Saxena, a pediatrician in Redwood City, California, said her practice is carefully guarding the handful of N95s they have left from the SARS epidemic and have had to make “some very scary decisions” about how to protect staff. Their options, she said, are to shut down the office — in which case they would go out of business — or to be very precise about when they use protective equipment.

“When you’re in battle, you have to keep your powder dry until you have to use it,” she said. “When I see someone walking through the grocery store with an N95, it takes all my willpower not to rip it off their face.”

At Berkeley Pediatrics, staff members are wiping down gowns after seeing a patient and simply reusing them. When she gets home, said Dr. Katrina Michel, she stops in the garage, strips off her clothing and leaves it on the floor. She tells her two young children not to touch her until she’s had a chance to shower. “I’ve never been afraid to go to work for my personal safety before,” she said.

She worries, too, for the well-being of her patients, as the efforts to contain the novel coronavirus increasingly interrupt basic care. Across the country, pediatricians report that some parents are canceling routine checkups and vaccination appointments — including first-time vaccinations for infants — because they worry about getting infected at the office.

Michel says that when she gets home, she stops in the garage, strips off her clothing and leaves it on the floor. She tells her two young children not to touch her until she’s had a chance to shower. “I’ve never been afraid to go to work for my personal safety before,” she says.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

“We don’t want to create a pertussis outbreak because we didn’t vaccinate all of our babies on time,” said Michel.

Many practices are delaying booster shots for older kids. Dr. Tina Carrol-Scott, a Miami pediatrician, said she’s concerned that the mixed messaging could backfire with parents who are vaccine-hesitant. “If we start taking the stance that because of coronavirus it’s OK for you to be delayed a month or two, it kind of takes away our credibility as physicians,” she said. “Parents are going to say, ‘Well, it was OK to delay during coronavirus, why not now?’”

And it’s not just missed vaccinations that are a concern. Pediatricians are tracking growth and development at well-child visits. For newborns, that includes checks for weight loss, jaundice and congenital diseases.

“We’ve had parents of infants who are 1 week old say, ‘Oh I don’t want to come in; I don’t think it’s safe,’” said Dr. Scott Needle, a pediatrician in Sacramento, California. “We’ve had to tell them, ‘Look, for a 1-week-old baby just out of the hospital, there are a lot of things you need to check that could be much more dangerous than coronavirus at this point.’”

Saxena said the caseload at her Redwood City practice is less than 25% of what’s typical, and warned of even broader ramifications on child health care as the pandemic wears on.

“If people stop going to the doctor altogether,” she said, “then primary care practices will shutter just like movie theaters and restaurants.”

Pediatric Practices Struggle To Adapt And Survive Amid COVID-19 published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.weebly.com/

[dinafbrownil]

Pediatric Practices Struggle To Adapt And Survive Amid COVID-19

BERKELEY, Calif. — The silence was striking.

On a normal day, the well-child waiting room at Berkeley Pediatrics bustles with children playing, infants crying and teenagers furiously tapping on their smartphones.

On a recent Monday, the room was deserted, save for a bubbling tropical fish tank and a few empty chairs. Every book, puzzle and wooden block had been confiscated to prevent the spread of the coronavirus. There was not a young patient to be seen.

Since March 17, when San Francisco Bay Area officials issued the nation’s first sweeping orders for residents to shelter in place, patient volume at the 78-year-old practice has dropped by nearly 60%. In accordance with guidance from the American Academy of Pediatrics, its seven doctors have canceled well-child visits for almost all children older than 18 months. And some parents balk at bringing in even babies for vaccines, opening the door to another potential crisis down the road.

In the days after the COVID-19 clampdown, the office scrambled to set up telehealth for sick visits. Still, this small, independent practice has gone from seeing more than 100 patients a day to about 40. It has laid off six staff members, and the physicians have taken a 40% pay cut.

“I’ve been practicing for a long time, and I’ve seen a lot of things. This is a very different beast,” said Dr. Annemary Franks, who joined the practice in 1993. “I’ve never seen in a week the entire thing fall apart.”

Michel participates in a virtual meeting with her colleagues at the practice, who can’t physically be in the same room together.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Across the U.S., thousands of pediatric practices that provide front-line care for the nation’s children are struggling to adjust to a dire new reality: crashing revenue, terrified parents and a shortage of protective equipment, from gloves and goggles to thermometer covers. And all while they are being asked to care for young patients who could well be infected with COVID-19 — and prime vectors for transmission — without showing symptoms.

How well these practices adapt will be key as the nation looks to weather the pandemic: Pediatric offices provide a crucial release valve for the health care system by treating the broken bones, lacerations, colds, flus and chronic illnesses that might otherwise flood overburdened emergency departments.

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“If it’s a month or two of care this way, OK. But if this is months and months and months, we’re going to see more practices go under,” said Franks. “We don’t have some pot of money that we have sitting around to get us through this. We’re fee-for-service. You get paid for what you do.”

Like many practices, Berkeley Pediatrics improvised overnight in the face of COVID-19. The brown-shingled Craftsman that houses the practice was quickly divided into two halves: upstairs for well patients, downstairs for those who are sick. They opened a back entrance up an unused set of stairs so well patients could bypass the sick.

Before they get an appointment, all children are screened by phone for signs of the virus. When possible, sick children are treated via a video visit. If a child with respiratory symptoms needs to be seen in person, a doctor meets the child in the family’s car in the parking lot, dressed in gown, gloves and face shield. Everyone who enters the office — whether child or caregiver — is checked for fever. The practice has only 75 plastic thermometer covers left, and supplies are on backorder. The doctors wear surgical masks even for well-child visits.

“Every day I think to myself, ‘That’s exactly the opposite of what I was taught in medical school and what I was trained to do,’” said Dr. Olivia Lang, another physician at Berkeley Pediatrics. “I’m not supposed to wear masks and scare my patients, but I’m doing it every day.”

Patient volume at the 78-year-old Berkeley Pediatrics practice in Berkeley, California, has dropped by nearly 60% since March 17, when San Francisco Bay Area officials issued the nation’s first sweeping orders for residents to shelter in place. The practice has laid off six staff members and physicians have taken a 40% pay cut.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Telehealth makes eye contact challenging, she said. And in an effort to avoid in-person appointments, health care providers have resorted to prescribing antibiotics over the phone for symptoms suggesting ear infections and strep throat, without doing lab work. “We’re supposed to be good stewards of antibiotics, and that’s being dismantled,” Lang said.

Another challenge is the availability of personal protective equipment, a struggle for all health care workers. Pediatric practices do not routinely keep stocks of the heavy-duty N95 masks, and they seldom use gowns or even simple surgical masks. Now, with hospitals facing critical shortages of PPE, pediatricians are often low on the list to get supplies.

Dr. Kristen Haddon, a pediatrician outside Boston, said the practice didn’t jump to purchase supplies when cases of the novel coronavirus first emerged in Washington state in January. “It felt very far away and seemed very isolated,” she said. By the time they realized the virus was widespread, “there was nothing to be had.” They had no N95s, gowns or goggles, and only two boxes of surgical masks.

Pediatricians are considered at particular risk of infection, given preliminary research that suggests children infected with COVID-19 are more likely than adults to have mild cases and may be contagious while showing no symptoms at all. “We have absolutely no idea who is infected and who isn’t,” said Haddon. “Kids cough and sneeze in our face all the time. And one cough could be really bad for me.”

Following the COVID-19 outbreak, Berkeley Pediatrics in Berkeley, California, quickly divided its brown-shingled Craftsman building into two halves: upstairs for well patients, downstairs for those who are sick. They opened a back entrance, up an unused set of stairs, so well patients could bypass the sick.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

Dr. Niki Saxena, a pediatrician in Redwood City, California, said her practice is carefully guarding the handful of N95s they have left from the SARS epidemic and have had to make “some very scary decisions” about how to protect staff. Their options, she said, are to shut down the office — in which case they would go out of business — or to be very precise about when they use protective equipment.

“When you’re in battle, you have to keep your powder dry until you have to use it,” she said. “When I see someone walking through the grocery store with an N95, it takes all my willpower not to rip it off their face.”

At Berkeley Pediatrics, staff members are wiping down gowns after seeing a patient and simply reusing them. When she gets home, said Dr. Katrina Michel, she stops in the garage, strips off her clothing and leaves it on the floor. She tells her two young children not to touch her until she’s had a chance to shower. “I’ve never been afraid to go to work for my personal safety before,” she said.

She worries, too, for the well-being of her patients, as the efforts to contain the novel coronavirus increasingly interrupt basic care. Across the country, pediatricians report that some parents are canceling routine checkups and vaccination appointments — including first-time vaccinations for infants — because they worry about getting infected at the office.

Michel says that when she gets home, she stops in the garage, strips off her clothing and leaves it on the floor. She tells her two young children not to touch her until she’s had a chance to shower. “I’ve never been afraid to go to work for my personal safety before,” she says.(Jenny Gold/KHN)

“We don’t want to create a pertussis outbreak because we didn’t vaccinate all of our babies on time,” said Michel.

Many practices are delaying booster shots for older kids. Dr. Tina Carrol-Scott, a Miami pediatrician, said she’s concerned that the mixed messaging could backfire with parents who are vaccine-hesitant. “If we start taking the stance that because of coronavirus it’s OK for you to be delayed a month or two, it kind of takes away our credibility as physicians,” she said. “Parents are going to say, ‘Well, it was OK to delay during coronavirus, why not now?’”

And it’s not just missed vaccinations that are a concern. Pediatricians are tracking growth and development at well-child visits. For newborns, that includes checks for weight loss, jaundice and congenital diseases.

“We’ve had parents of infants who are 1 week old say, ‘Oh I don’t want to come in; I don’t think it’s safe,’” said Dr. Scott Needle, a pediatrician in Sacramento, California. “We’ve had to tell them, ‘Look, for a 1-week-old baby just out of the hospital, there are a lot of things you need to check that could be much more dangerous than coronavirus at this point.’”

Saxena said the caseload at her Redwood City practice is less than 25% of what’s typical, and warned of even broader ramifications on child health care as the pandemic wears on.

“If people stop going to the doctor altogether,” she said, “then primary care practices will shutter just like movie theaters and restaurants.”

from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/pediatric-practices-struggle-to-adapt-and-survive-amid-covid-19/