#Electricity provision

[townpostin]

Tata Steel UISL GM Meets Durga Puja Committee for Prep Talks

Jamshedpur gears up for Durga Puja as officials address key festival concerns Key Points: • GM of Tata Steel UISL meets Durga Puja Committee to discuss festival prep • Tree pruning, slag provision, and pandal site issues addressed in meeting • Committee requests concessions on electricity rates and paperwork simplification JAMSHEDPUR – Officials and committee members convened to address crucial…

[falconrealty]

Residential N.A. Plots at Highly Developing Area Close to Fursungi I.T. Park

Project Highlights: - Residential N.A. Bungalow Plots - PMRDA and Collector Sanctioned - Individual 7/12 - Gated community with Residential NA plot with 1.8 FSI - 20 Min From Hadapsar - Bank Loan from all leading Banks - Gated Community - Vastu Compliant - Internal 30 ft Concrete Roads - Provision for Electricity & Water & all Basic Amenities

* Location Highlights * - Near to Seasons Mall - Close to leading schools & colleges - Close to leading hospitals and clinics - Strategically located in the center of Hadapsar and Saswad

For More Information Contact us at +91 - 8149674649 . . . .

[pomefioredove]

requesting for the event, please!(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

prompt: "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension." with the fairest, Vil!

thank you so much! please take breaks and stay hydrated 🍰

what if... hypothetically... the book 6 kiss was not on the cheek...

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kissing, SAPPY, takes place during book 6

"Do you think he's really asleep?"

Vil had been adrift in a sea of quiet and stillness when you finally speak, the sound of your voice pulling him out of the depth of his thoughts.

He tries to meet your eyes, but you're looking at Rook, not him.

"Rook?" he hums. "Yes. But he's a light sleeper, from what I know."

The huddle of Pomefiore-purple, cast in electric blue light, look almost ethereal in the dark safe room, deep under S.T.Y.X.

It had been... some hours since you took a break from your trek to the bottom. No one is really keeping track of time down here. The floor is uncomfortable, and the meek provisions they divided amongst themselves were unsatisfying.

What you wouldn't give for something filling and a warm bed now.

You and Vil are awake. Epel is snoring against Rook's shoulder, himself sleeping peacefully with his hat pulled over his eyes and his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"It's hard to tell," you mumble. Vil chuckles at your sleepy voice.

"You should get some rest, too. You'll be useless tired,"

"I will," is all you say.

A blanket of silence falls over the large room. You feel so much smaller in here. Everything does.

The sound of alarms is still audible, somewhere far above your heads.

Vil tsks, and then you feel a soft, warm hand caressing your cheek.

"Don't look so worried," he says, his voice a low, comforting hum. "We'll find Grim."

You try to smile, you don't want him to worry about you, but the stress is still evident in your tone.

"There's so much more now,"

"I know," Vil coos, cupping your face in his palm and tracing idle, soothing patterns over your cheek with his thumb.

You turn to look up at him, and another silence follows.

Despite your exhaustion, despite the chaos, despite the distant cry of alarms and the smell of blot, there's a brief moment where nothing exists outside of that door.

It's just you, and him. If only for a few seconds.

But that's all you really need, isn't it?

Vil chuckles. It's a warm, fond sound. "Hm. Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

But it doesn't seem like a joke.

You share a single glance, and then his other hand is cupping your cheek, and then he's holding your face, and then he's closing the distance between your bodies.

And then you're kissing.

It's slow and soft, but there's a subdued sense of passion behind it, one which tells you that if you were not so tired, you'd both be blushing and breathless by the end of it.

And when you finally part from one another, the thing you remember most is that his lips are a little chapped.

S.T.Y.X. has done a number on him, too. Not that you care.

You would take him no matter what.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Palestinian human rights organizations have shown that one in five Palestinians has been arrested and charged in Israeli military courts since the occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip in 1967. Each year, this figure adds approximately 500–700 Palestinian children, some as young as 12, who are detained and prosecuted in Israeli military courts.

[...] During the ongoing genocidal war across historic Palestine, Israeli carceral violence and arrest campaigns have only intensified. In the months prior to October 7, an approximate 5,200 Palestinians were detained in Israeli prisons. As of mid-March, that number exceeds 9,000. Over the past five months alone, Israeli occupying forces have arrested over 7,600 Palestinians in the West Bank, in addition to an unknown number of detained Gazans. Conditions are worsening for the imprisoned. Immediately following the war’s outbreak, the Israel Prison Service (IPS) placed prisoners in total isolation, prevented them from leaving their cells, and restricted access to water and electricity. The agency ceased providing what had already been poor-quality medical care and has dispensed inadequate food, enacting a starvation campaign against prisoners. Guards inflict violence, torture, and degrading treatment such as reportedly forcing captives to “bark.” IPS also banned visits for family members and delegates from the International Committee of the Red Cross, and severely restricted lawyer visits—cutting prisoners off from the outside world. My research inside Israeli military courts and prison visitation rooms—both as an anthropological researcher and a family member of prisoners—highlights the systematic nature of this violence and its justification through legal codes. Through an intricate web of military laws and orders, Palestinians become racialized—a sociopolitical process through which groups are seen as distinct “races” ordered in a social hierarchy. The Israeli carceral system racializes Palestinians as inherently “criminal” and thus deserving of punishment. Following the occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip in 1967, the Israeli military was vested with the ultimate authority of government, legislation, and punishment over the Palestinian population. This includes prosecuting Palestinians in military courts and charging them under the nearly 1,800 military orders that govern every aspect of daily life: conduct, property, movement, evacuation, land seizures, detention, interrogation, and trial. The orders include provisions for indefinitely detaining Palestinians without charge or trial through a policy inherited from British colonial practices. Over 3,500 Palestinians are being held in this state as of early March. Other provisions regulate the arrest and interrogation of Palestinians and how long they can be denied lawyer visits. With a near 100 percent conviction rate, Israeli military courts hand down absurdly high sentences, sometimes amounting to dozens of life sentences. Torture inside Israeli prisons and detention facilities is sanctioned by Israeli High Court of Justice (HCJ) rulings that permit the exercise of violence under pretexts of “security” and protecting “public order.” Enmeshed within this carceral reality is Israel’s labeling of most Palestinian prisoners as “security prisoners.” This designation masks the political nature of their imprisonment and sanctions violations against them. As opposed to Palestinian “security prisoners,” incarcerated Jewish settler-citizens receive rights such as making telephone calls, going on home visits under guard, the possibility of furlough, and conjugal visits. These rights are denied to the mostly Palestinian security prisoners, who are viewed and racialized from the start as criminals.

26 March 2024

[zvaigzdelasas]

On Wednesday, Brazilian President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva declared that genocide was taking place in Gaza.

"It's not a war, it's a genocide that has killed nearly 2 thousand children who have nothing to do with this war, they are victims of this war. And frankly, I don't know how a human being is capable of war knowing that the result of that war is the death of innocent children," the Brazilian President declared.[...]

"What is currently happening in the Middle East is serious, and it's not a question of discussing who is right or who is wrong, who fired the first shot and who fired the second," he added.[...]

On October 15, amid the developments in Palestine and the Israeli occupation’s genocidal aggression in Gaza, Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas discussed the situation with Brazilian President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva in a phone call.

During the phone call, President Abbas highlighted the need to halt the Israeli aggression on Gaza and the dire importance of opening a humanitarian corridor for the provision of medical supplies and other important supplies that have been cut off by the Israelis, such as water, electricity, and fuel.

For his part, President Lula da Silva asserted Brazil’s solidarity with the people of Palestine in their efforts to attain freedom and independence, underscoring the urgent need for humanitarian and medical aid to the Gaza Strip.

26 Oct 23

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"Heading out again?" you asked as Daryl stopped in front of you, his pack and signature crossbow slung over his shoulder. He was chewing on his bottom lip, a habit you'd noticed immediately after meeting him, but you'd yet to connect it to the nerves he felt whenever he was around you specifically.

"Yeh," he nodded. "Got a new place to check out for supplies. Hopefully a big score."

"I see," you said, sliding over a packet of provisions for him. "Please be safe out there, okay?"

He nodded, ducking your eyes which were so beautiful he had a hard time looking at them sometimes and an even harder time believing they were looking at him. "Do my best."

There was a pause for a moment and you drank in the sight of him; his broad shoulders, his muscular arms, the wave in his long hair. Your chest flared with heat. "I miss you when you're gone, you know. If what you did out there wasn't so important, I might not let you leave at all."

He looked up in surprise, his blue eyes a little stunned for a moment. "I—I miss seein' ya, too," he drawled, rubbing a hand nervously over the back of his neck. "When 'm out there, ya know..." And when I'm alone in bed at night. and can't sleep cuz I just keep wonderin' where ya are and what yer doin'. Or when yer just in the next room. "What I do out there is all about keepin' you and everybody else on their feet... so... tha's why I do it." Really I'm doing it for you, he thought. He wished he could say it.

"Right," you said with a nod. "Which is why I'd never dare to ask you to delay a trip..." You handed him a packet of extra gear and supplies you'd put together specially for him. "No matter how much I might want to."

You held his eyes while you said it and a jolt went through Daryl's body, like an electric shock, but addicting and soft and heated all at the same time. His fingers accidentally closed over yours because he was too busy staring at your expression. His throat felt suddenly constricted. "Well, if ya did ask me to... I'd never be able to tell ya no."

You smiled at him them and another jolt ran through him. "Good to know."

Prompt: "I miss you when you're gone, you know. If what you did out there wasn't so important, I might not let you leave at all." / "I miss seeing you too."

[allthecanadianpolitics]

British Columbia is proposing legal changes that would allow the government to regulate the supply of electricity to cryptocurrency miners. A statement from the Ministry of Energy says cryptocurrency miners consume large amounts of electricity to constantly run high-powered computers while creating very few jobs or economic opportunities. It says the legislative amendments would allow the government to prohibit or restrict the provision of electricity to cryptocurrency miners because “unchecked growth” of the sector could make it challenging and more costly to provide electricity to homes and other businesses.

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[cathkaesque]

Statement on Israel’s Use of Starvation as a Weapon of War in Gaza by the Union of Agricultural Work Committees, Palestine

For five days, Israel has attacked Gaza with the aim of total destruction, and the situation is at an unprecedented level of urgency. Israel’s actions have amounted to a humanitarian catastrophe of unfathomable proportions. At the time of publication, the Palestinian Ministry of Health reports 1,055 martyrs and approximately 5,184 injured.

Israel has declared a total warfare stance on Gaza, imposing a ruthless blockade that denies over two million Palestinian residents of Gaza access to electricity, water, food, fuel, medical supplies, and any humanitarian aid. Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant explicitly stated this strategy on 9 October 2023, saying: “We are imposing a complete siege on [Gaza]. No electricity, no food, no water, no fuel – everything is closed. We are fighting human animals, and we act accordingly.”

Israel’s deliberate use of starvation as a weapon of war demands the international community immediately respond with unwavering urgency and resolve.

Israel is indiscriminately decimating hospitals, schools, mosques, markets, and entire neighborhoods. Further, Israel threatened Egypt that it would bomb humanitarian aid deliveries to Gaza, prompting Egypt to withdraw its aid convoys. The Rafah Crossing into Egypt, the sole international exit from Gaza, has been bombed by Israel three times in a 24-hour period. This calculated assault severs Gazans’ only means of escape from ceaseless bombings or access to essential humanitarian aid. With Israel cutting off Gaza’s source of electricity, the only source of power was the Gaza Power Plant, which has just run out of fuel. In the case that it receives more fuel, Israel has threatened to attack the plant.

Israel’s assault is deliberately destroying any infrastructure that allows Gazans to support themselves. Vital agricultural and fishing infrastructure, crucial for food production, have been mercilessly attacked. Fisher folk cannot access the sea, into which sewage is spilling. The seaport is damaged, and tools are obliterated. Farming areas, often near the fence, have become vulnerable targets in Israeli airstrikes, and farmers whose land has not been destroyed cannot access it for daily agricultural practices. The Ministry of Agriculture reports that the bombing has done immense damage to agricultural areas and poultry farms, but the conditions make it impossible to precisely assess the situation in the field. There is a catastrophic decrease in food stocks, with shops across Gaza reporting severe shortages. The land and sea will face unimaginable environmental damages following these attacks, further preventing efforts to rebuild livelihoods.

Israel’s strategy aims to ensure that those who survive the bombs are condemned to a future without sustenance.

OCHA reports that the assaults have disrupted the UNRWA food operation, impacting at least 112,759 families. The poultry and livestock sectors are on the brink of collapse due to the severe shortage of fodder, endangering the livelihoods of more than 1,000 herders and affecting over 10,000 producers. This jeopardizes the provision of animal protein and the availability of meat and fresh sources of protein for Gaza’s entire population. Transportation of poultry to markets has virtually halted, and dairy cattle milk cannot be refrigerated nor marketed to factories, resulting in an expected daily spoilage of 35,000 liters of milk. More than 4,000 fisheries are at risk due to the closure of the sea. Gaza’s agriculture, poultry, cattle, fish, and other products are suffering from a lack of refrigeration, irrigation, incubation, and other machinery due to electricity cuts, causing spoilage.

Israel’s use of these tactics is not new by any means. Before Saturday, around 65% of the Gazan population was food insecure. More than 46% of the agricultural land in Gaza was inaccessible, and the fishing industry was severely struggling since fishing off the coast of Gaza has been restricted by Israel to 3 to 6 nautical miles.

Food insecurity is a human-made crisis, and Israel is manufacturing a mass starvation of the Gazan people.

It is the moral and legal obligation of the international community to intervene and end this crisis immediately. Food, as a basic necessity, must be allowed to reach the people of Gaza, and the deliberate targeting of civilian infrastructure must cease without delay.

We call upon the international community to take immediate action to stop Israel’s massacre of the Gazan population, demand the lifting of the siege, and establish humanitarian corridors for entry of aid.

[darsynia]

The Smoke That Roams (post-apocalypse AU Bucky/Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | lmk if you want to be tagged for Bucky fics!

Summary: You and Bucky find each other after the world almost ends

Length/Warnings: 3,080 | sex, allusions to violence

Notes: I tagged this on AO3 as 'romance and survival soaked in metaphor,' lol. It's post-apocalyptic angst. Stop typing, Darsy.

Excerpt:

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized. You were afraid for him. He was a supersoldier, but he wasn’t immortal. Bucky often went off by himself without saying anything to you--but what if someday he didn’t come back? 

A pillow landed on the queen sized bed beside yours, followed by a blanket, followed by Bucky, who threw himself onto his back beside you with as much care as he’d tossed everything else. He was so warm you could feel the heat radiating through the space that separated you, even though none of it carried through to his tone.

“You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

It was… exactly what you needed.

The Smoke That Roams

You used to compare him to a solid, cold hunk of metal. Non-reflective but uncorroded, with a metaphorical melting point so high it’s practically unreachable. A weapon when thrown but otherwise safe, foundational, inexpressive.

That was before he touched you.

Bucky Barnes is not safe. He is expressive, though. Just not with words.

now

The world isn’t destroyed. There are still plants, there are still animals, and there are still safe places to spend time. The planet may actually be better off now than in the last few hundred years, because the humans who were in the process of ruining things just barely failed.

There are no regulations, no government-enforced exclusion zones, only good- and bad-intentioned people living day to day. You figure humanity has around twenty years of 'every man for himself' to realize how difficult it is to grow crops and sustain life. Until then, everyone’s subsisting on canned food and shelf-stable meats while hating every second of it.

Boredom is an unexpectedly dystopian pandemic, post-apocalypse. Books still exist, so there’s that. Unfortunately, even if there were experienced people to keep the electrical grid going, it’s completely unsustainable without an accompanying society. When you’re really depressed, you picture various survivors all around the world hunkering down to read Jurassic Park or Gone Girl next to pine-scented candles or last year’s Pantone table tapers. Once, you imagined a group of miserable assholes warming their hands next to a bonfire of Live, Laugh, Love wall hangings outside of a Cracker Barrel. It helped. You doubt any Karens survived the apocalypse to object.

then

You survived out of luck, if you could call living in the aftermath of a failed nuclear response ‘luck.’ 

Given the honest-to-fuck alien invasion, those nuclear strikes should have taken out the whole area. Instead, a strange golden dome repelled the worst of the damage, but you knew better than to assume it would stick around. After gathering some important provisions (including a gun and all your ammo), you spent some time bundling up your lawnmower’s spare gas can. You'd read The Stand. There's no way you're strong enough to pilfer gasoline from an underground tank.

That was when you found a leather-clad warrior man standing beside your motorcycle. He didn't seem surprised to see you. “You know how to ride this?”

“You after parts or gas?” you asked, hand on the butt of your gun. You were high on survivor’s guilt and low on bravado. He noticed both.

“A bodyguard,” Bucky told you sardonically.

He eventually told you the real reason, but at the time you’d pulled courage out of the sulfuric smell of danger in the air and suggested you watch each other’s backs.

now

“Still awake?”

You roll over to see Bucky’s familiar shape standing at the window, outlined in moonlight.

“Yeah. It’s too quiet.” Yesterday the two of you had retreated further into the mountains, judging your previous temporary home too close to the river after seeing two small groups using it for through travel.

“Never thought I’d like the quiet this much,” he muses.

Getting up, you move to stand beside him, still dressed in multiple layers to ward off the colder elevation. “That’s because it matters why it’s quiet.”

He doesn’t look over, but his smile is gorgeous in the dim light. “That’s a war reference.”

“You’re damn right.”

The two of you stand in silence, watching the shadows of the nearby trees play in the wind until he speaks again, gruff and oddly defensive.

“I was right about the shelter.”

“There’s a radio? Was it the right kind?”

“Yeah. Months worth of food, too.”

You’re embarrassed at how excited you are at the thought of MREs. “That’s great,” you say, reaching out to touch his arm. It’s sopping wet. Turning to look at him more fully, you see that his hair is wet too. He’s been dripping the whole time he's stood there; there’s a halo of wet, dark spots on the floor around him that feel almost symbolic.

“Most of the food was untouched. Ghosts don’t eat much.”

“How many?” You have to dredge to find enough moisture to rub your vocal cords together.

“Just one. Buried him in the woods pretty far out, washed up in the river.”

Bucky leaves so much unsaid, but you’re good at decoding him by now. This new cabin is miles from the river. As a good ‘bodyguard,’ though, you have one more clarifying question. It’ll matter, if you want to stay here for longer than a week or two.

“Was there evidence of-- did someone else--”

“Self-inflicted.”

“Yeah, aren’t we all,” you sigh, pushing away the guilt of relief.

then

You learned him slowly.

Bucky didn’t need a bodyguard as much as a body, or more accurately a second person to help carry the items he was gathering. It made sense; even a loner like him wouldn’t separate from the other Avengers without a reason. Their version of ‘strength in numbers’ was too complicated to understand and he didn’t really explain, but it had something to do with scattered communication, whatever that meant.

The parts he needed were in military bases, abandoned (and guarded, which was fucking terrifying) high rises, and one notable item was in a corn field. Eventually he gave you his motorcycle and upgraded to one with a sidecar.

You didn’t ask why it was wet when he showed up with it, but you had an idea of why he might have needed to clean it off.

By then you were used to sharing a room with him, dressing and undressing when he was out of the room or faced away. He didn't seem to mind, but you couldn’t really tell, and he didn’t say. 

You were more like coworkers than anything else, to the point that he barely spoke once one of you started readying for bed, like an unwritten boundary. Not that night. He’d broken into a hotel with two beds, one for each of you. That night, instead of his usual steady rhythm of breaths that eventually lengthened into sleep, there was just pensive silence.

Silence was the worst part of your new life. Silence allowed doubts and fears to creep into the gaps between breaths, clawing out space for larger worries. Bucky was quiet, but he was rarely silent.

“It’s not cold,” he finally said, almost accusatory.

You didn’t know how to respond. You weren’t cold, you were in shock. Death was everywhere and nowhere; either you fought for your life or saw the evidence of those who’d lost that battle. Each choice came with terrible necessity. Had that sidecar been a necessity? 

The flashlight clicked on. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m not cold.”

You weren’t afraid of him, you realized. You were afraid for him. He was a supersoldier, but he wasn’t immortal. Bucky often went off by himself without saying anything to you--but what if someday he didn’t come back? 

A pillow landed on the queen sized bed beside yours, followed by a blanket, followed by Bucky, who threw himself onto his back beside you with as much care as he’d tossed everything else. He was so warm you could feel the heat radiating through the space that separated you, even though none of it carried through to his tone.

“You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

It was… exactly what you needed.

now

“I need to build it as high up as I can,” Bucky says.

“Not ‘we?’” you ask, nowhere near as breezy as you hoped.

“I need you to be here, safe.” He reaches out and grabs your hand with his smooth, river-damp metal one, squeezing just too much. It’s as calculated as it is unintentional, like your relationship. “This time, ‘safe’ is not with me.”

He can run for days, heal his own wounds, kill in so many ways it would take a week to list them all, and you still don’t want him to go alone.

You don’t say that, though.

Instead, you tuck yourself against Bucky’s chest, wrapping your arms around his drenched torso. There are no dryers, no radiators to hang your wet clothes on, no fireplace to dry them by. It’s a message.

He holds you close in the moonlight, his river water soaking into you, your unspoken love seeping into him.

then 

Bucky learned you fiercely.

After begrudgingly joining you the first time, he slept beside you from then on, handling it the same way he handled everything: with little explanation and an air of inflexibility. Suddenly you were two people who slept (slept, mind you) together, the metal plates of your lives shifting perfectly to fit that new reality. 

You didn’t fully understand what it all meant until the night Bucky went for a walk instead of getting into bed. He’d killed a man right in front of you that day--brief, brutal, and bleak--and you'd waited for him to come back, alone with your own brutal and bleak thoughts. Had survival destroyed your morality? Why had he been beautiful as he’d ended the attacker’s life? Couldn’t things go back to the way they were? You didn’t ask for this!

Then it hit you.

Neither did he.

You got to travel with him in 2019 because someone did things to him in the 40s that he’d never asked for.

Bucky came back, but that didn't help you purge those horrible thoughts, not until he sighed in obvious annoyance and threw an arm over your hip, dragging you back against his chest like it was an obligation.

Only then could you sleep.

And so could he.

now

The moon is too high to shine through your borrowed window anymore, so Bucky leads you back to the bed in the dark. He guides your clothes over your head and down your hips as unerringly as a marksman who knows the specs of his weapons. When he kisses you, it’s sloppy and imprecise, like he doesn't have time to come up with a plan other than 'must touch, now.'

He drops you onto your back on the bed and straightens up, stripping off his shirt. You figure that out by the sound the sodden fabric makes on the hardwood floor, a wet thunk followed by the metal pinging noise his belt buckle makes.

A strange realization hits you: for the first time since everything went to hell, you don’t want water stains on the floor. This could be your place, yours and his. The thought warms the places where you’d pressed up against Bucky’s wet clothes, but soon his kisses do that for you, furnace-hot yet gentle as the curl of smoke from your frequent campfires.

You burn for him, and you have since before he touched you with intent and looked at you with desire. 

then

Post-apocalyptic isolation was finally getting to you.

The warehouse was cold, impersonal, and dangerous enough that no one lived there, despite being a single building surrounded by miles of possibly-fertile fields. Back when it was operating, that had protected the county population, and now that it was not, its position could best be called strategic. No one could sneak up on you if you were diligent, but the monotony of guard duty was wearing on you. So was the wind coming off of the unrelenting central plains.

You'd never seen Bucky that frustrated before. He came to bed each night tense and sullen, even angry, and instinctively, you’d done your best to give him space. It was only in the last few nights that ‘space’ had included sleeping separately, despite the chill of early autumn that seeped into your bones from the concrete floor.

Day five of that singular brand of loneliness happened to be day thirteen at that location. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“Let me help you.” Your tone was wounded, but you didn’t raise your voice.

“You are helping.”

“There’s no point in me watching for nonexistent scavengers when whatever you’re doing isn’t working down here! Especially since--” Your words turned to ash in midair. You’d been about to say ‘especially since you won’t sleep with me anymore,’ which made your relationship sound vastly different than what it actually was.

Bucky smiled for the first time in days. “Go on.”

“No way. Mad Max himself couldn’t drag it from me.”

“I think I saw that one,” he said, swiping a precious candy bar from the special stash and sitting on a stack of pallets. “Sand and cars?”

You choke out a laugh. “If any of the filmmakers are still alive, can you even imagine--”

“They probably murder anyone that brings it up.” Bucky wrapped up the rest of the candy bar and held it up like he was about to toss it to you. “Tell me.”

Your chest felt like you’d swallowed lighter fluid. He looked happier than he had in days, and you had no idea if telling him the truth would toss a match or douse it.

Well, you lived with enough fear as it is.

“Fine,” you said with fake annoyance. “I was going to say that it’s hard to sleep without you breathing on my neck and hogging the blanket.” The plan was to be flippant, to avoid seeing his response, but an arsonist can never look away from their own blaze.

Bucky was still sitting the way he had been before, but you could see the tension ebbing from his shoulders. His metal hand relaxed its grip on the pallet with the same slow relief as the growing smug look on his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, impudent and inflammatory.

“Yeah. Give me the candy bar.”

“Oh, I will,” Bucky grinned. He stood up with the kind of confident menace that had sold many an action movie ticket.

“Oh my god, turn that off!” you yelped, poised to run. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Sand,” he said. You bit your lip as he continued, “I can use it to shore up-- Never mind.”

Bucky’s gaze was intent as he started walking in your direction. It was the same kind of focus he used to defend your lives, with only difference being the impudent light in his eyes. You backed away (never turn your back on a predator) as swiftly as you could, heart pounding in your delighted chest.

Seconds later you realize he’d herded you against a dividing wall and he was still advancing. It was absurd, sexy as hell, and the aforementioned lighter fluid had completely replaced your blood volume. One touch and you’d be aflame. 

Bucky didn’t touch you.

He stopped mere breaths away, leaning his metal forearm on the wall. Bucky brought the half-wrapped candy bar up where you could see it and then ripped away the wrapping with his teeth, his eyes glittering with challenge. Holding your gaze, he brought it to your mouth.

You were breathing so heavily your breasts grazed his chest, sparking brushfires each time. Still, this was a contest of sorts, and you had precious few chances to go toe to toe with this man. You waited until the heat of your mouth smeared the chocolate on your lower lip, and only then did you move--shoving his hand to the side and arching up to kiss him.

His groan ignited something in both of you. He pulled you close with a rough hand at your thigh, curving your leg around him and taking charge of the kiss. It was exhilarating, full of the heat of something long-desired. You grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, dug your fingernails into his hair, your other hand skating over the bare metal of his arm.

Suddenly he pushed back on the wall behind you with enough force to shake the cinderblocks, eyes wild, hands at the hem of his tank top. You nodded, scraping your elbows in your haste to strip off your clothes. It took just seconds before you were on each other again, Bucky half carrying you to the corner of the warehouse where you’d piled up your bedding. He was already pumping his fingers in and out, sucking a brutal kiss on your neck even as he knelt on the pile of ragged quilts.

“You are so fucking strong-- yes, like that,” you gasped out with your eyes screwed so tightly you saw a spray of sparks. The white-hot pleasure practically rang in your ears, and then he was there, splitting you apart and putting you back together, with the taste of him healing the gaps.

“You smell just like every morning I wanted to do this,” Bucky growled into your skin. The pinpoint pain of his fingertips digging into your hip was so real, so him that you were speechless. All you could do was drag your lips across every inch you could reach, arching your back to drive the two of you toward the wreckage of your former selves.

When release came it was a second nuclear event, him panting into the join of your neck and shoulder, your hands buried in his hair.

now

There is a luxury to darkness and patience, one you never would have guessed at in the Time Before.

Bucky doesn’t have to see the ecstasy on your face to know his expert caresses are sending you skyward. You don’t have to watch him throw his head back to know he’s about to come apart inside you.

He’s seen the silhouette of your body backlit by the sunset as you ride him.

You’ve watched the lethargy of pleasure-bought peace lift months of his guilt.

Things will never go back to the way they used to be, but just as you’ve learned to navigate the chaos of the current world, you’ve also learned the comfort of being truly known.

Tomorrow, Bucky will head up the mountain to build one piece of a larger device various Avengers have been constructing across the world. Stark had called it a cosmic smoke signal, a last-ditch effort to call for rescue. After all this time, you’re not sure your heart is in it anymore. It’s engaged elsewhere; you haven’t just learned to adapt, you’ve learned to thrive with Bucky at your side.

Still, the others are counting on the two of you, and it’s all about balance. Whether the next mission is a fiery trip to the stars or the steady puff of a hand-built cookstove, you’re ready for what comes next.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

[darkmaga-retard]

A school district in Maryland is finding out just how costly virtue signaling can wind up being.

By Tyler Durden

e county’s Office of the Inspector General reported that the buses were consistently delivered late. Dozens of buses scheduled for fiscal year 2022 arrived only after Christmas, instead of at the start of the school year as required.

A school district in Maryland is finding out just how costly virtue signaling can wind up being. 

Maryland’s largest school district in Montgomery County found out via an Inspector General's report that implementing electric busses “led to millions of dollars in wasteful spending”, according to WTOP.

The wasteful spending was caused in part by late deliveries and maintenance issues, according to the IG report. 

The report said that at a ribbon-cutting ceremony in October 2022, Montgomery County Public Schools (MCPS) announced that its 326 new electric buses would save 6,500 gallons of fuel daily and cut costs by 50%.

And then reality set in. Since entering into a $168 million contract for the buses, MCPS has faced significant delays, WTOP reports.

The county’s Office of the Inspector General reported that the buses were consistently delivered late. Dozens of buses scheduled for fiscal year 2022 arrived only after Christmas, instead of at the start of the school year as required.

“MCPS’s failure to hold the contractor accountable to the terms of the contract and their decision not to include provisions to offset incurred expenses has led to millions of dollars in wasteful spending,” the IG report said. 

A similar issue occurred in fiscal year 2024. Of the 120 buses slated for delivery, only 37 arrived by the end of September, 69 between October and December, and 14 more between January and April.

[manorpunk]

Duke Austin Throckmorton: landowner, warlord, and dedicated vassal of the Chili King, a neo-feudalist restaurant chain. If the party is polite to him, he will let them stay as guests. If the party is aggressive, he will threaten to bring out his 'steed' (a rusty but functional T-54 tank).

Rhonda Rotten: Fujoshi brigand. She and her handful of bisexual boyfriend minions have set up an unlicensed 'toll booth' somewhere along the Route 66 pilgrimage trail. Insists she's not a Harley Quinn knockoff but she kind of is. If the party has any men, she will let them pass if they make out yaoi style for her.

Liquor & Gusto: hulking Mad Max style wasteland goons driving a rust-bucket van covered in airbrushed wizard decals. They will only attack the party if they appear nonthreatening and/or are carrying valuables. Otherwise, they will attempt to sell your party some ditch weed and moonshine.

GLN Solar Farm # 187: A large and seemingly unoccupied solar farm owned and operated by the Global Logistics Network. Surveillance drones circle overhead. If the party lingers, they will be confronted by a patrol of SUM troops (short for Surplus Unmarried Men, they're the cheap off-brand global paramilitary force used when you want to guard something but you wouldn't be that sad if something happened to it).

Inexplicable Gas Station: A gas station with electricity and running water despite being in the middle of nowhere with no visible infrastructure around it. The shelves are always stocked with a variety of cheap provisions (prepackaged food, paper products, small tools, etc). The party can save their game at this location.

[qdbs-writes]

May I please request headcanons for Erron, Hanzo, Liu Kang, and Kung Lao being snowed in during a dangerous blizzard with their female S/O and having to deal with various issues like rolling blackouts, freezing pipes, etc?

MK Lads x Fem!S/O React To Being Snowed In By A Dangerous Blizzard

Erron Black

Prepare to hear complaints that it's well under 0 celsius and that Erron is freezing his nuts off.

Refuses to let you shovel the snow "'Cause it's a man's job!" but mumbles frustratedly the entire time he does it, sliding and slipping about haphazardly.

Absolutely has like a month's worth of emergency provisions in the basement, so at the end of a long day of sub-par snow shoveling, he'll kick up his feet and dig into a heated can of beans.

Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion)

Well, the good news is that you won't have to worry much about staying warm, Hanzo will rotate around the house, using his demon flames to insulate the rooms.

Will warm up the toilet seat for you when you complain about it being almost too cold to use.

He will learn to carefully balance his new role as your personal heater whilst also being a fire hazard. You'll have him just standing in the middle of the room while ignited so you can be toasty while napping.

Liu Kang

Out of everyone, he would do the best in a blackout, Kang has never relied on electricity or wifi to be entertained.

So long as the house isn't falling apart around you, Kang will help distract you with crafts and board games, you know, to stave off the inevitable cabin fever.

Thanks to the blizzard, Kang can now make good on his promise to teach you how to play mahjong just like his grandmother! (Grandma Liu took no fucking prisoners while playing mahjong).

Kung Lao

Will see the snow piling up outside and will smugly be like "Ha! Good thing we're inside where it's nice and warm!". Karma will demonstrate its impeccable sense of timing when the power goes out seconds later.

For the love of the Elder Gods do not let Lao touch anything, he will somehow make it worse.

Tried to break the ice in a frozen pipe by hitting it with a wrench, succeeding only in bursting the pipe and flooding a portion of the house with icy cold water.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Ending mass human deprivation and providing good lives for the whole world's population can be accomplished while at the same time achieving ecological objectives. This is demonstrated by a new study by the Institute of Environmental Science and Technology of the Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona (ICTA-UAB) and the London School of Economics and Political Science, recently published in World Development Perspectives. About 80% of humanity cannot access necessary goods and services and lives below the threshold for "decent living." Some narratives claim that addressing this problem will require massive economic growth on a global scale, multiplying existing output many times over, which would exacerbate climate change and ecological breakdown. The authors of the new study dispute this claim and argue that human development does not require such a dangerous approach. Reviewing recent empirical research, they find that ending mass deprivation and provisioning decent living standards for 8.5 billion people would require only 30% of current global resource and energy use, leaving a substantial surplus for additional consumption, public luxury, scientific advancement, and other social investments. This would ensure that everyone in the world has access to nutritious food, modern housing, high-quality health care, education, electricity, induction stoves, sanitation systems, clothing, washing machines, refrigerators, heating/cooling systems, computers, mobile phones, internet, and transport, and could also include universal access to recreational facilities, theaters, and other public goods. The authors argue that, to achieve such a future, strategies for development should not pursue capitalist growth and increased aggregate production as such but should rather increase the specific forms of production that are necessary to improve capabilities and meet human needs at a high standard, while ensuring universal access to key goods and services through public provisioning and decommodification. In the Global South, this requires using industrial policy to increase economic sovereignty, develop industrial capacity, and organize production around human well-being. At the same time, in high-income countries, less-necessary production (of things like mansions, SUVs, private jets and fast fashion) must be scaled down to enable faster decarbonization and to help bring resource use back within planetary boundaries, as degrowth scholarship holds.

July 25 2024

[foxgirltail]

I think this is, for the millionth time since like 1980, further evidence that no part of the internet should not be a "business". Infrastructure that supplies people with access to the internet shouldn't be a business, websites and applications shouldn't be owned or operated by businesses, etc

These things should not be for profit. There are likely communists on here who've put more thought into this than me and have better solutions than these, but off the top of my head:

Internet provision (and all utilities - water, heating, air, electricity - tbh, I know quite a few aren't) should be handled by the government, and

Companies that own websites should be reformed to be owned by the employees where the operating costs are subsidized by the government

This will probably need a massive overhaul on most Western/imperial core governments, and as we all know the best way to do that is

[maxine's lawyers have advised her not to complete that sentence]

[clumsiestgiantess]

Lots of people wanted a continuation to the short I made for @entomolog-t’s prompt, so here you are! I already had ideas for a second part the moment I finished the first one!

(First part here)

I was so tired the night of my disappearing act that I barely made it to the scraps of insulated fabric I call my bed.  Just as my head hit the comfortable fluff, a thud echoed above my head and I dashed to the doorway in seconds, heart racing.  More thuds rumbled over the floorboards as I stood frozen looking fearfully upwards — believing Alice somehow knows where I am, and is trying to pry up the wooden planks to get to me.  Faintly, I can hear her muffled voice.  “Please, I know you’re scared, but hiding isn’t going to do either of us any good!  Just come out; I swear I’m not dangerous!”  

Oh.  She’s probably crawling around on the floor trying to find me.  Well, unless she can crawl beneath it, she’ll have a tough time finding anything but dust!  I sneered at the thought, trying to reassure myself enough to get back in bed.  I’m safe now.  She’s not going to find me here.  However, no matter how many fabric scraps I press over my ears, I can’t drown out enough noise for me to sleep.  Even when I lay on the cold floor with everything over my head until I’m nearly suffocating, I can still feel the vibrations of Alice moving around.  Just go to sleep already!  Thud around all you like in the morning when I leave for the day!  Regardless of my mental harassment of her, the human didn’t give up until it was early morning.

Finally, I have peace and quiet, and I fall asleep in record time.  Come morning, the house is still silent as ever.  I wake up with a gnawing ache in my chest.  Briefly, I think it’s guilt over what I’d done the day before — turns out it was just hunger.  I’d run away before getting to eat yesterday.  Thankfully, I have some provisions that I’ve stored away for emergencies.  I grab a few crackers and glance at the little watch piece that’s fastened to the wall.  Oh, what?!  I slept in!  I usually never sleep in!  My natural alarm wakes me up at almost the exact time every day.  Then again, I’m usually asleep much earlier than last night, too.  

No wonder the floor is so quiet; Alice is probably out of the house by now, or in her room working on human things.  Quickly finishing breakfast, I slip on my bag and head out to the large kitchen.  Now that my emergency stash of food is diminished, I’m a bit anxious to get it stocked again.  I walk the same trek I’d sleepily walked the night before, but stop at the end of the hall where the electrical cover sits.  Maybe I’ll.. go a different way.  

Taking the long way through the walls, I come out inside a cabinet with windowed doors.  Reaching out to push one open, I glance out of it and flinch.  With cautious steps, I slide backward behind some cups.  Alice is in the room.  None of her usual music is playing, she isn’t watching videos on her phone, she isn’t talking to herself or a friend on the phone, either.  She’s just sitting there with what appears to be her breakfast, staring numbly at a wall.  Huh.  Whatever ‘exams’ are, they really seem to be stressing her out.  Usually she’s done with breakfast by now.  

Her strange behavior can’t be because of me.  She had spent less than twelve hours with me, and most of that time she spent ignoring me.  Logically, she wouldn’t be that upset over someone she barely knew, right?  She’d given up her search hours ago when she finally stopped keeping me up all night.

A while later, she leaves.  It’s strange, though.  Alice steps lightly across the room, glancing around the floor before each step.  Maybe she lost something important?  That tends to make humans fairly stressed.  Hell, it makes me stressed.  If a human’s missing something, it might mean I made a bad judgment call on what I could take without being noticed.

My nerves settle when the sound of her footsteps fade off.  Back to business.  My day runs relatively smoothly from there.  Of course, I had to come across a knot or two in my climbing rope mid-scale, which I wasn’t too happy about.  After collecting up some food, I spent a long while getting the knots to untie.  It’s always best to get them out before you make a climb, that way your weight won’t tug them tighter.  It was too late for that lesson to come in handy, though.  

My next chore on the list is borrowing some more thread to stitch winter linings back into my clothes.  The winter weather caught me by surprise.  It had come earlier than I thought, and I’d nearly died because of it.  Briefly, blurry visions of the inside of that knitted hat fade in and out of my consciousness.  I nearly froze to death that night.  If the thing hadn’t been left there accidentally, I wouldn’t have made it long enough to even try to get help.  Blinking away the memories, I realized I was shivering and rubbed my hands over my arms for a bit more warmth, reminding myself that I’m safe here.  The apartment never gets that cold.  Ever.

At my home under the floors that afternoon, I gather up the materials I already collected.  I have the fluffy inner lining that I’d taken from an old coat Alice left in a storage bin — I’ve been using it as bedding — my knife to cut everything to size, and a smaller needle I’d whittled out of a long chunk of wood.  Now all I need is the thread.

Back in my little passages, I head in the opposite direction through the floor.  I slow as I make my way up into the walls towards Alice’s room.  Unfortunately, that’s where the sewing kit is, directly under her bed.  Alice will be there for sure.  Whatever she’s working on this time must be important.  I haven’t heard her leave her room all day since I saw her walk in this morning.  She hasn’t even gotten lunch.  Maybe she has a snack on her desk!  Perhaps when she’s asleep or out of the house I’ll steal some of it.

Sliding out of a crack in the baseboards behind a large bookshelf, I creep up to the very edge of it and scan the room.  Sure enough, Alice is there doing schoolwork, watching a video on something called ‘trigonometry’ that I can barely pronounce — I don’t dare try to imagine what it actually is.  At least she’s not being unnervingly still anymore.  

I dart from my place beneath the bookshelf to beneath her bed.  The sewing kit sits further towards the wall, right beside her desk.  Alice seems distracted enough, scribbling down something while mumbling about things I don’t understand.  She does that often enough that it isn’t as concerning as this morning.  Maybe she’s finally returning to normal.  That’s a relief.  A human on a schedule is a good human to live with.  Memorize it, use it to your advantage, and you’ll practically own the place — at least while they’re not around.

Making my way to the box, I wait for the video to start playing again before popping open the lid — timing it so she doesn’t pick up the noise amidst the other sounds she’s concentrating on.  Sliding a few things around, I manage a clear path to the spool I want.  Rummaging through various different items larger than yourself is no easy task, but I make it look practically effortless.  A shrunken human would never be able to do half the things I do on a daily basis, I think with a smirk.  I yank out the spool of thread and reach for my knife.

“No!  What?  How?!  I used the same formula and everything!”  I flinch as Alice yells, her angry voice edged with dismay.  Cautiously, I tiptoe over to the side of her bedframe and glance up at her.  She’s frantically writing something down, biting at her bottom lip with furrowed brows.  Whatever it is, she isn’t too happy about it.  I’m just about to continue my work when she glances over at the computer screen again.  “What the heck?!”  Furiously, she crumples her paper into a crushed ball, looking ready to throw it across the room in a fit of rage.  I brace myself instinctively, thankful I hadn’t stuck around to anger her.

Suddenly, a sob wrenches out of Alice’s throat, catching me entirely by surprise.  She curls her arms around her head as it falls to the surface of the desk.  The paper ball drops dully to the floor.  Her whole body shakes as she cries onto her desk, and my relief drops into a muted kind of confusion.  “I’m gonna fail,” she whimpers, “I can’t do this.  Why is everything going so wrong?  I just wanted to help him; why’d he run away?  I feel sick.  What if he’s hurt somewhere and can’t call for help?  What if he’s too scared to call for help?”

She.. really is worried about me.  So worried that she’s acting like a complete mess — and not the silly endearing mess I’m fond of her for.  If my disappearance amplifies her worries over these exams…  Well, she didn’t tell me what would happen if she failed them, just that she couldn’t.  I abandon the thread I’m after and rush for the crack in the wall behind the bookshelf.  A plan’s forming in my mind.  It might backfire horribly, but I’m hoping it’ll work.  Alice is much too distracted for me to even bother checking if the coast is clear.  Her light sobs still echo against the surface of her desk.

I slip between the two halves of the wall and take a large calming breath.  Then I start shouting.  “Alice!  It’s ok, I-”  The human sits up so abruptly I stop talking fearfully.  I don’t know how beings as big as her can move so quickly.  She scans the floor of the entire room in only a few seconds.  Of course, I’m smart enough not to be in plain sight.  “Hello?”  Alice’s voice is slightly muffled like her nose is stuffy.  I swallow a lump that formed in my throat.  “It’s.. It’s ok.  It’s me, the ‘little guy’.”  Alice hastily rubs away her tears and stands up.  “You’re… alright?” she asks me, glancing around.  “Yeah.”

“Oh thank god!” Alice gasps, relieved.  “You made me so worried for you!  Are you hungry still?  I- I know you haven’t eaten in a while since you.. ran off when I tried to get something for you.”

The room falls into an awkward silence.  I can’t see much of her from beneath the bookshelf, but I watch Alice nervously shuffle from foot to foot — waiting for my response.  She can’t stay silent for very long, though.  “Look, I’m sorry I scared you off…  I don’t know what happened, but I’m willing to work with you to try and get your memories and your old life back.  I can’t imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly be so small, not even knowing how you got that way-”

“Stop.”  Alice quieted at the single word.  “That’s.. a lie.  I remember everything just fine.”  I want to say that I’m not terrified of being small either, but I can’t bring myself to say it.  Even if I’ve lived my whole life this way, I still have my moments.  Yesterday and that whole escapade with the freezing car was one of the worst of them.  “So.. you just didn’t want to tell me how you shrank?”  I sigh, “No.. Alice, I- I never shrank.  I’ve always been this way.”  She starts and stops talking a few different times — syllables barely leaving her mouth.  “I’m not human, Alice.”

The silence that follows is worse than the last.  It feels almost suffocating.  A gentle thud reverberates over the floorboards and I peer out.  Alice is kneeling on the floor, leaning down to peer under the bookshelf.  Quickly, I duck back behind the wall.  “Is that why you left?”  Her voice softens, tears entirely gone.  “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”  “You promised the tiny human me that you wouldn’t hurt me.”  I glance out of my hiding spot just as Alice’s gaze wanders, thinking through something.  

“You thought I would go back on my word if I knew you were lying to me?  Or you just.. thought that I wouldn’t care because you’re not human?” she asks me, sounding hurt.  I feel almost chastised.  Her gaze flickers to me.  “I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you.  You.  No matter who or what you were.  I’m a bit upset you wanted to lie to me about… everything.  But I can’t be mad at you for being scared of me.  I won’t ask you to talk to me anymore if you don’t want to, but just know, I’m glad you’re alright.”

Tears of relief well in my eyes and my throat tightens.  Tentatively, I slide out from within the crack in the wall.  “You- You really mean that?  You don’t care that I’m not one of you?”  A small smile spreads over Alice’s lips.  Of course not, don’t be silly!  You’re safe here, I promise.  I understand if you want to go home, though.  You probably have others of your kind to get back to, and I’ve accidentally trapped you in my house.”  I glance away sheepishly, “Well, about that…  I kind of.. live here.”  “What?!”

I end up telling her every part of the truth — how I really got into her car, where I’d gone to when I ran off — everything.  “I actually did remember my name.  It’s just.. not really a human-sounding one, so I couldn’t exactly give you it.  My name’s Fennel, but I mostly just go by Fen.”  “Fen?” she asks a bit confusedly.  I nod.  “Nice to finally really meet you!” Alice laughs, “How long have you been living here.. with me?”  I think back.  “I moved in after you were already here, but you were still unpacking things, so I don’t think it was very far off from when you moved in, too.”  Alice makes a surprised noise.  “Where were you living before?”  “Eh, another apartment in this building.  The new people were too loud, so I moved out.”  She giggled, “I wish I could just pack up and slip into a new home whenever I have problems with the neighbors.”  I sigh, “It’s harder than it seems; I have to rebuild a livable space for myself every time.”  Alice nods thoughtfully, sitting back up.  Some of her bones crack as she does, and I flinch.

“Hey, if you don’t mind, can you maybe come out from beneath there?  It hurts my back to try to bend all the way to the floor to look at you.”  She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.  “Alright.”  With slow deliberate steps I make my way out from beneath the bookshelf.  Alice sits a foot away from me.  I have to crane my neck back vertically to see her face, peering almost all the way downward at me.  She offers me the palm of her hand.  “Can I hold you?  Please?”  My heartbeat thunders so loudly I almost don’t hear what she asks.  Cautiously, I nod and step up onto her hand, raised just a bit higher than a stair.  She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.

I’ve never interacted with a human before her, but I’ve seen it happen before.  My brother — well, he wasn’t actually my brother, but we always called eachother that — had been found by a human.  I was there.  It was pitch dark, perfect time for borrowing.  We’d forgotten a light, but Gin scoffed at the idea of going back for one — until he stepped into a mouse trap.  Every once and a while I’ll still hear the awful noise made when the trap snapped closed on him.  The human came running when they heard the gargled shriek, and the last thing he told me was to leave him there.  The metal beam that had crunched around his midsection somehow hadn’t killed him, but his body was far from unharmed.

From a grate in the floor nearby, I watched as the human found him, ensured him things would be alright, and pulled him out of the trap — tearing him in two.  In hindsight, I don’t think the human meant to kill him.  They screamed and dropped the half of him they were holding.  I was too stricken and horrified to process that in the moment, so I just ran.

“Fen?”  I flinched so violently I nearly knocked myself in the face with my hand, instinctively trying to cover my head with my arms.  “Are you ok?  You look sick.  If this makes you uncomfortable, I can put you back down.  You didn’t have to get on.”  It’s just like in the car — her blue-eyed gaze looking me over with genuine concern.  “I- I’m alright.”  She gently shakes her head.  “You aren’t, though.  You’re shaking.”  The gentlest pressure alights on my chest as a soft finger brushes up against it.  “And your heart’s beating really fast.”  Her touch is so soft — incredibly cautious like she’s holding something precious and delicate.  Maybe I am, to her.  It’s nothing like what I had imagined a human would feel like, nothing at all.

In a brief moment of weakness, my eyes tear up and I squeeze her finger closer, pressing my forehead against it.  It is absolutely terrifying thinking about where I am.  I’ve spent all my life believing it’s a place of certain death.  Why is it so comfortable?  All Alice would have to do to hurt me is close her fist and squeeze.  My fate wouldn’t be that much different than Gin’s.  She won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you, she won’t hurt you.

Everything shifts around me and I rush to get out of her grip, immediately fearing that my imagination somehow willed an awful reality.  But Alice brings me up to her chest and holds me gently against it.  She tucks me against her sternum as her head comes to rest behind her hands that hold me.  “It’s alright now.”  I’m not sure if she’s assuring me, or herself, but I accept it and bring myself snugly against her.  It’s blissfully warm there.  While the walls where I live aren’t nearly as freezing as the outdoors, they’re still plenty cold.  The heat is more than welcome.  My wild pulse softens into a much normal rhythm while I listen to Alice’s own heartbeat thrumming beneath her skin.

Things are fuzzy in my mind beyond that moment.  I’ve been up for a full twenty-four hours, and the night before was only worse than the last.  I remember stumbling off her palm onto her desk, watching dazedly as Alice looked around the room for something.  She finds it and places it down for me.  It’s a little blanket folded over so it can be both a mattress and blanket at the same time.  I crawl into it, listening to the sound of pencil scratches on paper for only a few minutes before I fall asleep mumbling a weary ‘thank you’.

[afeelgoodblog]

These are The Best News of Last Week

1. Brazil’s new president Lula vows to halt Deforestation.

For many Brazilians, Bolsonaro’s defeat represents a rejection of the explicit anti-Indigenous, anti-environmental agenda he enacted while in office.

Lula has promised to update Brazil’s climate goals to steer the country back in line with the Paris Agreement. He has also committed to a list of climate proposals put forth by Marina Silva, the most prominent environmental activist in Brazil who served as his former environment minister. In his first speech as president-elect late Sunday night, he reiterated his strong support for zero deforestation in the Amazon. “Brazil is ready to resume its leading role in the fight against the climate crisis”

2. All-terrain wheelchairs arrive at U.S. parks: ‘This is life-changing’

For anyone who has to use a wheelchair, the state says it will soon be easier to be able to enjoy several parks, historic sites and wildlife centers because these locations will provide free all-terrain wheelchairs.

The Georgia Department of Natural Resources said it has partnered with the Aimee Copeland Foundation to provide high-mobility, all-terrain track wheelchairs at 10 different locations across the state. DNR said the initiative “encourages those with mobility impairments to reconnect with nature, explore nature trails, go fishing and attend adaptive hunts.”

3. Electricity-generating windows? Swiss scientists design more efficient transparent solar panels

All that natural light flowing through your windows may one day do much more than brighten your mood. Scientists in Switzerland have reached a new efficiency record for transparent solar cells, paving the way for electricity-generating windows that could help power our homes and devices.

Also known as Grätzel cells, dye-sensitised solar cells (DSCs) are a type of low-cost solar cell that use photosensitised dye attached to the surface of a semiconductor to convert visible light into energy.

4. In France all new large parking lots must now be covered in solar panels starting in july 2023

The new provisions are part of French president Emmanuel Macron’s large-scale plan to heavily invest in renewables, which aims to multiply by 10 the amount of solar energy produced in the country, and to double the power from land-based wind farms.

Starting July 1, 2023, smaller carparks that have between 80 and 400 spaces will have five years to be in compliance with the new measures. Carparks with more than 400 spaces have a shorter timeline: They will need to comply with the new measures within three years of this date, and at least half of the surface area of the parking lot will need to be covered in solar panels.

5. Car horns replace gunfire as Ukraine’s troops return to jubilant Kherson

Ukrainian soldiers swept into the southern city of Kherson on Friday, seizing a major symbolic and strategic prize from the retreating Russian army and dealing a bitter blow to President Vladimir V. Putin.

Just weeks after Mr. Putin declared the Kherson region a part of Russia forever, his troops were forced to abandon its capital city, their third major retreat in the war. The setback further dented the once-formidable reputation of an army that has mismanaged logistics and sent unprepared and unmotivated soldiers into battle.

Jubilant crowds poured into the streets, greeting Ukrainian soldiers and waving flags

6. Lab-grown blood given to people in world-first clinical trial

Tiny amounts — equivalent to a couple of spoonfuls — are being tested to see how it performs inside the body. The bulk of blood transfusions will always rely on people regularly rolling up their sleeve to donate.

But the ultimate goal is to manufacture vital, but ultra-rare, blood groups that are hard to get hold of. These are necessary for people who depend on regular blood transfusions for conditions such as sickle cell anaemia.

7. A pod of dolphins got stuck in the mud at low tide — here’s how a N.S. community saved them

According to the Digby Fire Department, there were 16 Atlantic white-sided dolphins, of various sizes, stranded. People of all ages rushed to the scene in Digby on the afternoon of Nov. 4 after it was discovered that 16 dolphins were stranded in the mudflats of an area known as The Joggins.

“We are happy to report that all 16 dolphins eventually were ushered into the water,” the department posted on its Facebook page late in the afternoon. “We are hopeful once the tide keeps rising, they will safely make their way back out to sea.”

- - -

That’s it for this week. If you liked this post you can support this newsletter with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Have a great week ahead :)