Once a poster child for the success of zero-Covid, Taiwan is now dealing with an “Omicron tsunami”. In response – and in stark contrast to regional neighbours – health authorities have decided zero-Covid is no match for the new variant and have flipped the switch to “living with the virus”.
“It is the right decision, and it’s also the decision we had to make,” says Dr Chen Chien-jen, Taiwan’s former vice-president and professor of epidemiology.
Taiwan closed itself off in early 2020, and employed a regime of stringent contact tracing, social restrictions and personal hygiene measures which it kept even as vaccines and antivirals were developed. It defeated an outbreak of the Alpha strain and another of Delta in 2021. But after the highly virulent Omicron began affecting countries in November and December, Chen says he and other scholars advised the government to start shifting towards living with the virus.
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It’s called the “new Taiwanese model”: an acknowledgment that they can’t stop the spread of Omicron, but that they can try – to use an early pandemic-era phrase – to flatten the curve. … [Taiwan’s central epidemic command center] urged people to maintain mask-wearing, work from home if they could, reduce gatherings, get vaccinated and take a rapid test if they felt symptoms. It’s also trusting people to self-report, and isolate or quarantine at home.
Cases are rising, but deaths are low.
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with your head shoved into the pillow, your hand reaches back, lightly pushing at his stomach.
“mmph—give me a second, ohh—”
eyes rolling back into your head, you hand drops as he swings his hips harder, relentlessly prodding at that one spot in your cunt.
“kento!” you squeal, voice muffled and legs shaking, “i’m gonna cum again!”
he shushes you softly, a hand running down the curve of your ass. “i know baby, it’s okay.”
you shake your head, “‘m gonna die, ken—”
he laughs, watching your body shake in tandem with your orgasm. he’s holding your hips in place and he continues, pace never faltering. “you’re okay, sweet girl. just focus on feeling good.”
nanami leans down, kissing your temple. feeling his weight on you makes you drool, the warmth of his body addicting.
“more, please,” you slur, body flattening on the mattress. kento pulls out momentarily, pushing your legs together and sliding a pillow under your tummy before pushing back in.
“fuck!” you cry, hands pulling at his sheets, “fuck you!”
his weight presses you into the mattress. his teeth biting lightly at your ear. “one more baby, come on.”
“cumming ‘m cummin’, you—fuuuckk—”
“yeah,” he groans, feeling your cunt clench around him. he thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. sloppily kissing your cheek, his hand reaches up to grab your jaw, “you’re gonna make me cum sweet girl—where do you want it?”
“inside, please, i need it so bad.” you whine, turning your head to kiss him.
“you’re gonna kill me,” he mumbles, thrusting with a different fervour before dropping most of his weight on you, groaning in your ear.
“take it, baby, ‘s all yours.” you moan as you feel him filling you up, eyes almost crossing at the feeling.
nanami rolls off you momentarily, tucking your hair behind your ear and watching you catch your breath. he breathes out a chuckle, “so dramatic, you asked for this, remember?”
you try faking a frown but fail, your lips forming into a smirk instead. “what if i ask for it again?”
a hand playfully swats the swell of your ass, “you don’t know what you’re asking for, beautiful.”
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Really good Twitter thread originally about Elon Musk and Twitter, but also applies to Netflix and a lot of other corporations.
Full thread. Text transcription under cut.
John Bull @garius
One of the things I occasionally get paid to do by companies/execs is to tell them why everything seemed to SUDDENLY go wrong, and subs/readers dropped like a stone. So, with everything going on at Twitter rn, time for a thread about the Trust Thermocline /1
So: what's a thermocline?
Well large bodies of water are made of layers of differing temperatures. Like a layer cake. The top bit is where all the the waves happen and has a gradually decreasing temperature. Then SUDDENLY there's a point where it gets super-cold.
That suddenly is important. There's reasons for it (Science!) but it's just a good metaphor. Indeed you may also be interested in the "Thermocline of Truth" which a project management term for how things on a RAG board all suddenly go from amber to red.
But I digress.
The Trust Thermocline is something that, over (many) years of digital, I have seen both digital and regular content publishers hit time and time again. Despite warnings (at least when I've worked there). And it has a similar effect. You have lots of users then suddenly... nope.
And this does effect print publications as much as trendy digital media companies. They'll be flying along making loads of money, with lots of users/readers, rolling out new products that get bought. Or events. Or Sub-brands.
And then SUDDENLY those people just abandon them.
Often it's not even to "new" competitor products, but stuff they thought were already not a threat. Nor is there lots of obvious dissatisfaction reported from sales and marketing (other than general grumbling). Nor is it a general drift away, it's just a sudden big slide.
So why does this happen? As I explain to these people and places, it's because they breached the Trust Thermocline.
I ask them if they'd been increasing prices. Changed service offerings. Modified the product.
The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid"
Then I ask if they did that the year before. Did they increase prices last year? Change the offering? Modify the product?
Again: "yes, but not much."
The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid."
"And the year before?"
"Yes but not much. And everyone still paid."
Well, you get the idea.
And here is where the Trust Thermocline kicks in. Because too many people see service use as always following an arc. They think that as long as usage is ticking up, they can do what they like to cost and product.
And (critically) that they can just react when the curve flattens
But with a lot of CONTENT products (inc social media) that's not actually how it works. Because it doesn't account for sunk-cost lock-in.
Users and readers will stick to what they know, and use, well beyond the point where they START to lose trust in it. And you won't see that.
But they'll only MOVE when they hit the Trust Thermocline. The point where their lack of trust in the product to meet their needs, and the emotional investment they'd made in it, have finally been outweighed by the physical and emotional effort required to abandon it.
At this point, I normally get asked something like:
"So if we undo the last few changes and drop the price, we get them back?"
And then I have to break the news that nope: that's not how it works.
Because you're past the Thermocline now. You can't make them trust you again.
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Batboys as your sugar daddy
What’s the point of all this money if you don’t have someone to spend it on?
Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem!reader
Contains: Sugar daddies. Possessive, controlling men. Power imbalances. They’re all a little toxic. These relationships are not aspirational babes. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s.
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked.
BRUCE WAYNE 💋
“Wear the diamonds,” Bruce rumbles from behind you, lips right next to the shell of your ear. Before you can answer, his warm hands are already on your throat, and cool platinum touches your skin. A hundred diamonds arranged in three dainty layers sparkle in the low light of Bruce’s bedroom, clinging tightly to your neck.
With the choker clasped in place, one of Bruce’s hands traces up and down your neck while the other rests heavily on your hip, holding you flush against his chest. His touch is hypnotic, pulling you in like a planet pulls a moon into orbit. Your whole world revolves around him—and that’s exactly how he likes it.
But like the moon, the subtle gravitational pull you have on him keeps him in place, keeps him stable, calms his most wicked of storms.
He bows his head. The way he looks at you through his eyelashes is almost reverent while he kisses your bare shoulder, skin interrupted only by your dress’s hair-thin silk strap.
“Beautiful,” he says, and you know he’s not talking about the necklace, the dress, or any of the other jewels and silks he’s drowned you in over the last year.
When your eyes meet in the mirror, one corner of his lips quirks up into a smirk, which he buries under a kiss to your jaw.
There, with a quick, sharp nip of his teeth, he lays his claim. “And all mine.”
DICK GRAYSON 💋
Dick’s on his knees, head buried between your legs when you hear—feel—him say, “I need you to take a week off work.”
Well. What he really needs is for you to just quit your job already, but you got upset the last time he suggested it. Baby steps. For now.
“Why?” you gasp, blinking hard as you try to focus on the fact that he’s starting a conversation now when his tongue is making you smart and shake with pleasure.
“I want to go to the Maldives,” he says as if it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, as if he’s saying he wants to go across town, not across the world.
His tongue flattens out and dips into your weeping hole, and your thighs tighten around his head in response. He groans, and you choke out, “A week for the Maldives?”
You feel his lips twist and curve around you, paired with a little graze of teeth; he’s smiling, and the sensation makes you dizzy. There it is, he wants to say. You want more. Finally, your expectations are starting to match his bank account.
But he decides to play the dumb, pretty boyfriend he likes to make people think he is. “You don’t think it’s enough time? Wanna take two weeks?”
“I don’t have the—” He kisses up to your clit and gives it a tentative little suck, which makes you fist his hair. “—vacation days.”
“Why don’t you just take them without pay?” he proposes as his tongue laves up your swollen sex. “It’ll be okay, just this once. You’ll feel so much better after some time off; I promise.”
JASON TODD 💋
Jason is currently scrutinizing the contents of your pantry, a box of macaroni and cheese in his hand. After seeing the scowl on his face, you’re not surprised when he starts to lecture you. “You eat this crap?”
You raise a brow because he’s one to judge. “I’ve seen you eat an entire party box of tacos.”
“I’m not you,” he fires back. His voice is still low, still calm, but you can sense an edge in his tone; this conversation is about a lot more than boxed macaroni and cheese.
In the beat of silence that follows, his heated gaze dulls to a smolder. “You don’t know how precious you are.”
You open your mouth to reply, but whatever retort you were going to argue back with is silenced when Jason’s big hands cup your face, tilting your head up so he can kiss your forehead. He lingers there, and you feel him tremble. His breath is ragged, rough—as if he’s afraid.
“I’m not you,” he repeats in a whisper. It’s like he’s talking to a child, like he knows you don’t know any better. Poor little you—you need him. “Just let me take care of you like always, okay? How about I sign you up for one of those meal prep kits? No more processed food; it’s not good for you.”
When he pulls you against his chest and strokes your hair, you feel yourself nod, unable to disagree. You know he’s right, after all; and isn’t it sweet that he treats you like a delicate angel even though he’s seen the worst of the world? That nothing without his stamp of approval is good enough for you?
TIM DRAKE 💋
“Oh, you’re all set,” your manicurist smiles at you as soon as you take out your wallet, nails freshly done.
Caught off guard, all you can reply with is, “Huh?”
She just smiles a little brighter, and there’s a sparkle of something in her eyes. It looks a little wistful, but also a little vapid—is that jealousy? “Your boyfriend paid already,” she explains as her eyes not-so-subtly look around, trying to catch a glimpse of said boyfriend, but you’re just as surprised as she is.
“For the next year,” she adds in a dry tone. Slowly, you drop your wallet back into your purse. There’s only one man alive who could figure out where you get your nails done, what day and time you like your appointments, and call ahead to pay off your manicures for the next year without you ever finding out about it.
So when you get back to your car, you call him.
“Do anything fun today?” he asks over the phone, pretending to be way more innocent than he actually is.
“Tim—”
“Actually,” he cuts in, and you hear a bashful tremor in his voice. That tremor makes your stomach do flips, which beckons you to give in to whatever he wants. “I was just thinking about you. You’ve got the prettiest hands.”
“Tim—”
“Let’s go shopping later,” he rambles on, completely ignoring you. “I think you need some new jewelry. You’d like a new set of rings, wouldn’t you?”
🔖: @mrs-kurooo; @lovely-loren05
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