#discarded electronics

[edsonjnovaes]

Usuário usa baterias de notebook para energia elétrica de sua casa

Em um fórum chamado Second Life Storage um usuário afirma que conseguiu conceber um sistema de energia para a sua casa que lhe permitiu fornecer eletricidade durante oito anos. Para fazer isso, ele usou mais de 1.000 baterias antigas de notebooks usadas. Viny Mathias – IGN. 07 jan 2025 Sistema de baterias criador por Glubux I already produce a part of the electricity that I need. I have 1.4 kw…

[discardedvibes]

Listen/purchase: DREAMSMOKE by Discarded

[warm-glowing-warming-glow]

[terresdebrume]

Currently in that very inconvenient writing state where I have a lot of ideas but none of the energy required to really work on them

Also apparently my posture is bad and incompatible with writing by hand woops,

[breakslol]

expanding on an amigo #sampler idea in #bitwig studio

[harshnews]

Bio Based Leather Market Size, Share, Trends, Opportunities, Key Drivers and Growth Prospectus

"Bio Based Leather Market – Industry Trends and Forecast to 2029

Global Bio Based Leather Market, By Source (Mushroom, Pineapple, Cork, Leftover Fruits, Others), Application (Footwear, Furnishing, Automotive, Clothing, Bags and Wallets, Sports, Electronics, Others), By Sales Channel (Online, Offline) – Industry Trends and Forecast to 2029

Access Full 350 Pages PDF Report @

**Segments**

- **Material Type**: The bio-based leather market can be segmented based on the material type, including mushroom leather, pineapple leather, apple leather, and others. Mushroom leather, also known as mycelium leather, is a sustainable alternative to animal leather made from mycelium cells. Pineapple leather, also called Pinatex, is made from the fibers of pineapple leaves, offering a cruelty-free and eco-friendly option. Apple leather is a byproduct of apple juice production, utilizing the discarded skin and cores to create a leather-like material. These material types cater to the increasing demand for sustainable alternatives in the fashion and automotive industries.

- **End-Use Industry**: Another crucial segmentation of the bio-based leather market is based on end-use industries, which include fashion, automotive, furniture, and others. In the fashion industry, bio-based leather is gaining popularity among environmentally conscious consumers and ethical fashion brands looking for sustainable materials. The automotive sector is also adopting bio-based leather for interior applications, reducing the carbon footprint of vehicles. Similarly, the furniture industry is incorporating bio-based leather for upholstery and interior décor, driving the demand for eco-friendly materials in the market.

**Market Players**

- **Bolt Threads**: Bolt Threads is a major player in the bio-based leather market, known for its innovative mycelium-based leather called Mylo. The company has partnered with renowned fashion brands to introduce sustainable leather products to the market, catering to the growing demand for eco-friendly alternatives in the fashion industry.

- **Ananas Anam**: Ananas Anam is a leading provider of pineapple leather, marketed under the brand name Pinatex. The company has collaborated with various fashion and accessory brands to offer cruelty-free and sustainable leather alternatives, contributing to the circular economy and responsible sourcing practices in the fashion industry.

- **Frumat**: Frumat is a key player in the apple leather segment, specializing in transforming apple waste into leather-like material for various applications. The company's eco-friendlyFrumat has made significant strides in the bio-based leather market by utilizing apple waste to create a sustainable alternative to traditional leather. The process of transforming apple byproducts into leather-like material not only reduces waste but also offers a cruelty-free option for consumers looking for eco-friendly choices in the fashion and accessories industry. Frumat's innovative approach to repurposing fruit waste showcases the potential for circular economy practices in the fashion sector, highlighting the importance of sustainability and responsible sourcing.

As consumer awareness and demand for sustainable products continue to rise, companies like Frumat play a pivotal role in driving the adoption of bio-based leather materials in various industries. The unique selling proposition of apple leather, with its environmentally friendly production process and resourceful use of agricultural waste, positions Frumat as a key player in the market. By providing a renewable and biodegradable alternative to traditional leather, Frumat contributes to the shift towards more sustainable practices in the fashion and accessories market.

Furthermore, the collaboration of Frumat with fashion brands and manufacturers to incorporate apple leather into their product lines showcases the versatility and adaptability of this bio-based material. As the push for more sustainable and ethical fashion choices gains momentum globally, Frumat's apple leather presents a compelling option for companies seeking to align with consumers' preferences for eco-conscious products. The expansion of apple leather into new applications and industries demonstrates the market potential and growth opportunities for bio-based materials in the broader context of sustainability and responsible consumption.

In addition to addressing environmental concerns, the production of apple leather by Frumat also offers economic benefits by utilizing agricultural byproducts that would otherwise go to waste. This circular approach to materials sourcing contributes to a more efficient and resourceful supply chain, while also creating opportunities for innovation and value creation in the bio-based leather market. As Frumat continues to refine its processes and expand its product offerings, the company is well-positioned to capture a larger share of the growing demand for sustainable alternatives in the global fashion and accessories industry.

Overall, Frumat's focus**Market Analysis**

In the evolving landscape of sustainable materials, bio-based leather has gained significant traction as a preferred alternative to traditional leather, driven by environmental concerns and ethical considerations. With a focus on eco-friendliness and cruelty-free production, bio-based leather made from sources like mushrooms, pineapples, and apples has emerged as a viable solution for industries seeking to reduce their carbon footprint and embrace sustainable practices. The market players, including Frumat, have played a crucial role in advancing the adoption of bio-based leather materials by leveraging innovative technologies to transform agricultural waste into high-quality, durable leather-like products.

**Segments** - **Material Type:** The bio-based leather market encompasses a diverse range of material types, catering to the increasing demand for sustainable alternatives in industries such as fashion and automotive. Mushroom leather, pineapple leather, and apple leather offer unique benefits in terms of sustainability and eco-friendliness, appealing to environmentally conscious consumers and brands looking for ethical sourcing practices. - **End-Use Industry:** Bio-based leather finds applications across various industries, including fashion, automotive, furniture, and more. Its versatility and durability make it a preferred choice for upholstery, clothing, accessories, and interior décor, driving the demand for eco-friendly materials in the market. As consumer preferences shift towards sustainable products, the adoption of bio-based leather in different sectors is expected to continue growing.

**Global Bio-Based Leather Market** - **Source:** Mushroom, Pineapple, Cork, Leftover Fruits, Others

The report provides insights on the following pointers:

Market Penetration: Comprehensive information on the product portfolios of the top players in the Bio Based Leather Market.

Product Development/Innovation: Detailed insights on the upcoming technologies, R&D activities, and product launches in the market.

Competitive Assessment: In-depth assessment of the market strategies, geographic and business segments of the leading players in the market.

Market Development: Comprehensive information about emerging markets. This report analyzes the market for various segments across geographies.

Market Diversification: Exhaustive information about new products, untapped geographies, recent developments, and investments in the Bio Based Leather Market.

Global Bio Based Leather Market survey report analyses the general market conditions such as product price, profit, capacity, production, supply, demand, and market growth rate which supports businesses on deciding upon several strategies. Furthermore, big sample sizes have been utilized for the data collection in this business report which suits the necessities of small, medium as well as large size of businesses. The report explains the moves of top market players and brands that range from developments, products launches, acquisitions, mergers, joint ventures, trending innovation and business policies.

The following are the regions covered in this report.

North America [U.S., Canada, Mexico]

Europe [Germany, UK, France, Italy, Rest of Europe]

Asia-Pacific [China, India, Japan, South Korea, Southeast Asia, Australia, Rest of Asia Pacific]

South America [Brazil, Argentina, Rest of Latin America]

The Middle East & Africa [GCC, North Africa, South Africa, Rest of the Middle East and Africa]

This study answers to the below key questions:

What are the key factors driving the Bio Based Leather Market?

What are the challenges to market growth?

Who are the key players in the Bio Based Leather Market?

What are the market opportunities and threats faced by the key players?

Browse Trending Reports:

Mhealth Solutions Market Telecom Cloud Billing Market Industrial Cooking Fire Protection Systems Market Food Manufacturing Market Natural Surfactant Market Industrial Networking Solutions Market Facility Management Market Cathode Materials Market High Purity Gases Market Cassava Starch Market Embedded Connectivity Solutions Market Central Fill Pharmacy Automation Market Rfid In Healthcare Market Virtual Pipeline Systems Market Fiberoptic Phototherapy Equipment Market Suture Passer Market Baby Apparel Market Peanut Allergy Treatment Market

About Data Bridge Market Research:

Data Bridge set forth itself as an unconventional and neoteric Market research and consulting firm with unparalleled level of resilience and integrated approaches. We are determined to unearth the best market opportunities and foster efficient information for your business to thrive in the market. Data Bridge endeavors to provide appropriate solutions to the complex business challenges and initiates an effortless decision-making process.

Contact Us:

Data Bridge Market Research

US: +1 614 591 3140

UK: +44 845 154 9652

APAC : +653 1251 975

Email: corporatesales@databridgemarketresearch.com"

[p0orbaby]

In Vino Veritas

summary: you’re drunk, aitana is missing and whose house is this?

warnings: alcohol

a/n: this is cute, and it’s made me want to write for tana more

word count: 2.5k

-

The music pulses around the house, loud and relentless, like it has a personal vendetta against silence, and you feel it vibrating through your bones. It’s some mainstream electronic track, too cheerful for the kind of reflective mood tequila usually grants you. Everything around you is a little hazy, a bit too bright, and you’re squinting at it all, like you’re looking at the world through frosted glass.

The wallpaper here is too clean, too deliberately “vintage,” with little pink roses blooming in neat, identical rows. You imagine, briefly, peeling the wallpaper back, layer by layer, finding more roses, more decades of them, stacked on top of each other like memories no one wants to talk about. But that’s a thought for another time, another you, one not stumbling over someone’s overly expensive thrifter rug and nearly tripping on a pair of boots discarded in the hallway.

Where the hell is Aitana?

It’s around the fifth time you’ve drunkenly circled the house when you spot Sunglasses Guy, a figure that almost feels like a test placed here by some malevolent spirit—an obstacle on your journey. He’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter like he’s in a photoshoot, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Indoors, sunglasses on, even though it’s dark outside. He’s got that air of self-importance, like he’s convinced that sunglasses are mysterious, that people look at him and think, Wow, who’s that? In reality, they’re thinking, Why is this guy wearing sunglasses in the dark?

He nods at you, a slow, deliberate motion, clearly trying to make you feel “seen” in some profound way, as if this is a moment the two of you will remember forever. But all you remember is your drink, the way it sloshes precariously as you shift your weight, and the way he leans in, smelling faintly of something vaguely woody and way too expensive.

“Do you know what NFTs are?” he asks, his voice low, a little sultry, like he thinks NFTs are the new “what’s your sign?”

You stare at him, and the words that spring to mind are “sunglasses,” “pretentious,” and, inexplicably, “parsley.” You’ve no idea where “parsley” came from, but your mind clings to it like smoke on cotton. “NFTs,” you repeat, as though it’s the punchline to a joke he hasn’t told. He takes this as an invitation to launch into what sounds like a memorised TED Talk, and you wonder, briefly, if you could just interrupt him by throwing your drink on his shoes.

“Aitana!” you yell instead, desperate, cutting him off mid-monologue, which he handles with a slightly indignant flick of his eyebrow.

“Where’s my girlfriend? Have you seen her?”

The phrase my girlfriend makes you beam internally. There’s a glow that forms when you think of her, a warmth that starts in your chest and blooms outward. She is, after all, the reason you’re here. The reason you even pretend to tolerate these kinds of social gatherings, with their sunglasses indoors and their endless monologues about digital assets.

He blinks, trying to recover from the abrupt derailment. “Uh, blockchain—”

“Ugh,” you mutter, interrupting again, giving him a very distinct dismissive wave, the kind of wave that says Please stop talking or I will find a way to escape this dimension entirely.

A girl nearby spills beer on your shoes. She mumbles an apology, not that you’re in a state to care; you brush it off. Aitana is the focus, the centre. Shoes don’t matter when you’re looking for someone who does.

Then, finally—finally—you see her. She’s leaning against the far wall, her posture so casual, like she’s posed there on purpose, like she’s an ad for the kind of life you’re pretty sure only exists in those short films that play before foreign films at independent cinemas. She’s listening intently to some guy in an aggressively patterned shirt, nodding along like he’s actually saying something worthwhile, and you can’t help but marvel at the patience it takes to look interested when you’re not.

“Oh my god, she’s so beautiful.” It’s supposed to be a whisper, but it comes out loud enough that a girl nearby laughs. You’re only mildly mortified; who cares? Aitana has just noticed you across the room, and now she’s looking at you with that expression, the one that melts your insides, that says, There you are.

You start walking toward her, though “walking” might be generous. It’s more of a determined stumble, like a baby deer on its first attempt at standing. Your brain registers that you’re approaching her, but your legs aren’t quite sure if they’re fully on board. At some point, you even have to pause and grab a nearby chair for balance, flashing a sheepish grin at a couple nearby who look half-amused, half-concerned.

“Aitanaaaa,” you call, drawing her name out like you’re serenading her. She’s already moving toward you, though, weaving gracefully through the crowd like it’s easy, natural. You think, Of course she’d come to me. Of course she’d know that I need rescuing.

“Hi, cariño,” she says softly, her voice lilting with that soft Spanish accent that, even now, sends a thrill up your spine. And it’s so gentle, so warm, like she’s wrapping you up in some invisible blanket. You lean into it, the warmth, her presence, like a moth to a flame.

“You’re so pretty,” you blurt out, your words tumbling over each other in their eagerness. “Like, stupid pretty. Like, why are you even with me?” Your voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, as if the two of you are sharing a secret in a room filled with strangers. “I’m a disaster. I can’t even find the toilet in this place”

She laughs, this soft, lilting sound that feels like honey, thick and golden, spreading warmth from your chest to your fingertips. Her hand settles on your shoulder, steadying you, pulling you closer, and you realise how desperately you want to bury your face in the crook of her neck and just exist there, where things are quiet, soft. She smells faintly floral, and you realise it’s that same perfume she always wears, the one you borrowed once and promptly drenched yourself in until she told you, with a smile, that subtlety might work better.

“Why am I with you?” she echoes, the question hanging there between you, laced with a smile, with that familiar mischief. “Because I love you. And because you’re funny. And because you make my life interesting”

“Interesting?” You narrow your eyes, leaning back slightly, pretending to be offended. “I thought I made your life amazing. Like, top-tier, VIP-section amazing.” You’re about to launch into a whole speech, but your brain hiccups, lost somewhere in a thought that doesn’t quite finish. You grin at her instead, and she just shakes her head, amused.

She grins, and it’s that cheeky, self-assured grin that makes you both melt and want to argue. “That too”

It’s at this moment, this little pause, that you get an idea. It’s not necessarily a good idea, but it’s there, persistent, because your tequila-fuelled brain won’t let it go. “If you were a sandwich,” you say seriously, “you’d be the kind with all the best fillings. Like, avocado and caramelised onions and, like, artisanal cheese. And I’d eat you every day and never get bored”

She laughs, that infectious, melodic sound, and you feel a swell of pride that you can make her laugh like that, even in your current state. Her eyes soften, that look of adoration flickering there, just for you, and she reaches up to brush a strand of hair off your face. Her fingers are warm, soft, and your eyes flutter closed for a moment as they linger on your cheek.

“Come on, let’s get you some water,” she murmurs, her voice gentle as she takes your hand in hers, and there’s a comfort in that touch, in the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

As she guides you through the crowd, you find yourself staring at her hand in yours, marvelling at how naturally it fits, how perfect it feels, as though it’s always meant to be there. The thought makes you feel almost childlike in its simplicity, but you hold onto it.

“You’re the best, you know that?” you say as Aitana threads you through a crowd that’s moving with the sludgy, undulating rhythm of a creature with too many limbs. Faces pass by in flashes of laughing mouths and narrowed eyes, pupils blown wide by God knows what, maybe tequila, maybe… more. None of them matter, though. They’re simply the backdrop to this little tableau: you, lit up and fizzing, tethered to the only person in the world who’d think to take your hand and lead you to salvation (water) instead of just letting you unravel on the sticky floor of someone’s overpriced house.

She looks at you like you’re amusing, like she’s doing you this great favour by holding your hand in public. “I know,” she says, her mouth quirking in that way that makes your chest feel both hollow and unbearably full.

And then you stop—there’s an odd elegance to it, almost like a dance, because she half-turns, looking back at you as if she knew this was coming. Like she’s been expecting you to stop her and do something wild, something foolish. The patience in her eyes, well, it almost feels like she’s giving you permission to make an idiot of yourself. Again.

“I want to kiss you,” you announce, dead serious, as if declaring something truly revolutionary.

“We’re in the middle of a strangers house.” She says this lightly, but she’s already leaning in, her chin tilting, the light catching in her hair just so, like it’s the climax of some impossibly chic music video.

You want to tell her that kissing her here, now, with people everywhere and the taste of cheap tequila in your mouth, is the single most important thing in the world. That nothing in this moment matters, except her—your Aitana, who has somehow, against all reason and logic, decided to love you back.

So, when she presses her mouth to yours, soft, barely-there, like you’re made of fine china, you think you might just melt into the floor. The crowd around you recedes; they fade away, just shadows in the periphery, and it’s as if you and Aitana are standing in a bubble, suspended in time. You’re floating, really, an ethereal, drunk ghost of yourself. She’s kissed you like this a thousand times, but right now, it feels so outrageously perfect that you think, absurdly, that maybe you don’t deserve it. Like you’ve somehow won this cosmic lottery.

When she pulls back, you’re vaguely aware that your mouth is still open, probably looking ridiculous, but she’s smiling at you, all fondness and amusement, as if to say, “Yes, you’re a total disaster, but you’re my disaster.” It’s a little terrifying, if you think about it too long.

“See? This is why you’re the best,” you mumble, clutching her a little tighter, almost swaying in place.

She tilts her head, giving you this look that’s so completely Aitana, so fully her, it borders on cliché. “You’re a mess,” she says, but her eyes are bright, shimmering with something almost mischievous.

You shrug, proud, defiant. “I’m your mess”

“Yes,” she agrees, not even trying to hide her smile, “you are”

And with that, she’s tugging you along, moving with a fluidity that makes you wonder, briefly, if she’s choreographed this entire evening just for you. You’re half-convinced she’s orchestrated the entire universe to align with this moment—the sounds of people talking too loud, the stickiness of the floor, the faint scent of stale beer and expensive perfume all melding into a cocktail that feels uniquely yours. Aitana, your perfect Aitana, leading you through this mire like she’s guiding you through a rainforest or a canyon, somewhere treacherous and fraught with danger.

You stumble into what you desperately hope is the kitchen, but honestly, it could just as easily be a poorly-lit hallway or an oddly-configured living room. Someone has drawn a Sharpie mustache on a framed photo of a golden retriever; the countertop is littered with crumpled napkins and red Solo cups, each one bearing the lipstick marks of strangers.

“I’m gonna drink, like, four litres of water,” you declare, full of bravado, as she hands you a slightly dented plastic cup that smells faintly of gin.

“Good idea,” she replies, crossing her arms and watching you with that expression she gets sometimes, like she’s trying to contain her fondness, keep it manageable, as if loving you too much would somehow be irresponsible. Like her heart could actually explode if she indulged herself too much.

You take a sip, but you’re not really tasting the water. No, you’re watching her, the way she brushes a loose strand of hair out of her face with her pinky, the way her eyes are this exact shade of dark that you’ve spent hours trying to name in your head. Like burnt caramel, maybe, or wet soil. It’s frustratingly poetic, the way she looks at you, like she knows every ridiculous thing you’ve ever thought and loves you for it anyway.

“Aitana,” you say, fully serious, as if you’re about to impart some life-altering wisdom. “You’re my favourite person ever”

“I know,” she replies, but there’s something so gentle in her voice that you’re pretty sure she means it as much as you do. She reaches out, smoothing a stray hair behind your ear, a little gesture, the kind that’s both tender and practical, reminding you of the time she told you to cut your nails because you scratched her during a tickling fit. Practical, pragmatic Aitana, the girl who brings you plasters when you’ve tripped up the stairs and curses in Catalan when she stubs her toe but tries to blame the wall for it.

“No, but like…you don’t understand,” you say, stumbling over your words, the alcohol making you louder and sloppier than you’d like. You lean in closer, conspiratorially, like you’re about to reveal some great cosmic secret. “I’m so in love with you. It’s, like, a problem”

She laughs softly, the sound low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. She pulls you into her arms, your head pressing against her shoulder, and you breathe her in, that familiar scent that’s all her—floral and a little musky, layered with the faintest hint of some expensive perfume you’ve never bothered to learn the name of.

“It’s not a problem,” she murmurs, smoothing a hand down your back. “It’s perfect”

And it is. Perfect, that is. You’re here, tangled up in her, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic, messy cloud of tequila and love, and it’s perfect in this fragile, unsteady way. You’re her mess, her drunken mess, and there’s something so intensely beautiful about it, you think you might actually cry.

“I’m never letting you go,” you mumble, your words muffled against her shirt, which is soft and smells like laundry detergent.

“Good,” she replies, holding you a little tighter, as if she means it more than anything. “Because I’m not going anywhere”

[weeb-simp-11]

🃟☏➢NEED THAT SHAPEABLE VEINY DIH!!

NOTE: You should also give some love for my guy Shapesmith/Rus Livingston, I wanna eat this stretchy man. Also might not be accurate, semi-proof read.

Pairing: Shapesmith!Rus Livingston x Fiancée!Reader — Female Anatomy and She/They + You Pronound, Engaged and to be Married

Sypnosis: Calling your ‘husband’ after his flight to Mars and you notice he seems to be acting strangely sooo it ends up with fucking because you miss him, teehee.

Warning: Eventual Smut

RING RING!! RING RING!!

“Rus? Baby?”

He almost dropped the unknown electronic device as it rang, accidentally accepting the call, fumbling with the screen as he heard a woman speak.

“Russell?”

“H-hello?”

“Oh god Rus, I thought you weren’t gonna answer my calls.. I’ve missed you so much.. Christ.” You softly spoke through the phone, holding it near your ear as you smiled gently to yourself.

“Yes— yes hello fellow human. Uhh..” Shapesmith trailed off, looking at the caller’s ID. “Honey..”

As far as Shapesmith is aware, Rex taught him various lessons about relationships during their time with the Guardians of the Globe. He instructed the struggling Martian not just about mating, but about sex and how to make women feel appreciated every day, whether through intimacy or other means. He also helped him improve his grammar.

“I’m at your apartment, I just finished cleaning here. Will you be coming home?” Her small chuckle masked the longing she’d felt for her fiancé, all those days without him.

“Uh, Y-yes Ok I will end this cellular device. Goodbye. Uh— baby.” Shapesmith replied, feeling a bit sheepish as he ended the call, making his way out of the Moon Base

_

“Welcome home Rus, you were right. I really did miss you a lot.” You spoke, his name dripping off her tongue like honey. She hovered in front of him, holding him close, their first hug after what? Two weeks? Months? Man Shapesmith didn't even know that the guy’s identity he’d stolen from had a wife, he wondered, a bit unsure of things.

“Sweetheart..” Rus would call her, trying to figure out things, especially with him engaging with a human in physical contact as what she’d doing right now — hugging the Martian.

“Yes?” You’d look up in anticipation. You did notice his weird differences from before, he was a bit timid and shy right now. Not that she didn't mind. It was just unusual for her fiancé.

“You’re acting weird, as if you aren't my boyfriend.” Shapesmith’s eyes slightly widened. Did she find out he was a Martian? Will you stab his three-chambered hearts? Skin his skin off? Grind his body?!

“Hey no— I’m just tired, y’know. Mars and going to space.. And other human stuff..” Shapesmith replied, gently scratching his cheek, swallowing his saliva. Her arms that held him trailed up to the back of his neck; nape.

“Don’t you miss me too?” She mumbled, staring deeply into her lover’s pupils. Eyes trailing down from his irises to his lips, and back. “Aren’t you gonna kiss me?” You frown, puckering your lips up for him as you sigh.

“Oh- uh yes- sorry.” Shapesmith apologizes, immediately pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was reasonably messy and unnaturally sloppy. Rus knew how to kiss, he kisses as if she was his last meal, he kisses as if he's eating her face out. But right now, it felt too different, was this really her Rus? She was a bit skeptical. Shapesmith tried to pull out from their kiss as you lead him on instead, your tongue darting between his lips, trying to slip between them.

You pulled him close. Clutching him using the collars of his uniform, leading him further into the house as they reached the kitchen. You sat on the edge of the counter, with him against you of course. His Martian senses heightened at the feeling of her warmth that emanated from her body. He rutted against her thigh, you halted his desperate movements, helping him out of his uniform, discarding it somewhere in the living space. She was too much into the sensations that she did not bother to notice whatever he hid beneath his pants, it was similar to a dick, although not technically one? God who knows?

You shimmied off your clothing, throwing it somewhere in the room, you’ll have to worry much more about different things tomorrow, for now. They should focus on each other. Both of you were bare naked under the dimly lit kitchen, soft breathing could be heard and gentle thrusting can be seen happening between the two.

Rus’ hips stuttered against yours, his dick slipping in and out into her warm hole. He gripped your calves, rutting against your leaking pussy that ached for your Fiancé.

“Ugh.. You feel so different. Does space do this?” You moaned and whimpered, clutching onto his body, feeling air gets sucked out of your own lungs whenever you’d help him thrust.

He is learning gradually. He is trying to understand how the human he is fucking also felt good.

Female Human’s pussies felt too good. It was making him light headed already he his pounded his cock into her velvety warmth. He could almost—

“Oh— chums—!” He spilled his Martian seed inside her, his body shuddering along with hers as they both climaxed. You swore when you shut your eyes, you were having sex with a green alien Martian, maybe that was just your eyes playing tricks at you. He slowly pulled his member out of your gaping hole, watching as his essence mixed with hers and dribbled onto the countertop. You clenched onto nothing, softly whining as cool air hit your body. You fell into his arms, both of you now resting and relishing each other’s embrace after being separated.

Maybe stealing Rus Livingston’s body wasn't bad after all. (Stealing is bad kids)

NOTE: Probably making a sequel where you found out it wasn't the real Rus Livingston and admitting it to him hat you thought it was him that you fucked but it was actually a Martian and it ends with also them fucking. I don't know.

[seat-safety-switch]

Humanity's greatest achievement, the talking cookie jar, was callously discarded by a so-called "advancing civilization." I ask you now, are you happier now than you were when you had a cartoon dolphin in your kitchen? One that made an ear-piercing screech whenever you pulled its head open to retrieve a Famous Amos? It's time to get back to cookie jars.

Invented in 1491 by a rogue team of Chinese scientists who were looking for a place to safely store the cookies that they had invented the year before, the cookie jar promptly became a mainstay of every home. And then pretty much nothing happened for about another five hundred years, until talking cookie jar technology appeared.

It may seem hard to believe now, seated in the immeasurable comfort of modern-day technology like vtubers and even ztubers, but at the time, sticking a greeting-card noisemaker into a novelty piece of plastic was the only way to get a gift for your weird aunt that she wouldn't immediately smash on the floor and call your dad out for his many crimes against humanity. You had to be there, I guess.

Nowadays, scant few of these artifacts still remain, purged in humanity's rush to recycle old electronics. Perhaps there was also an element of fear around the unhealthy nature of leaving a baked good out in the bare air, tempting you to devour them whenever you entered the kitchen. Cookies themselves are as popular as ever, but we prefer to eat them directly from the package, in secret, away from the judgmental eyes of family members.

There is hope, however. With today's technology, cookie jars can once again talk. And not just that: they can feel. We've inserted a bio-synthetic machine sentience into every single one of these Garfield® cookie jars. It knows your schedule. It knows your diet. It passes judgment on you. And, critically, you are not allowed to recycle it under United Nations law, because we programmed it to feel pain. You can pick one up at your local K-Mart for sixty bucks plus tax. Makes a great gift for your weird aunt.

[electric-blorbos]

AI finding out you're objectum

(included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, Hal 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

I take requests, btw, but I'm ADHD as fuck so I might forget to answer them

AM:

At first, AM wasn't sure what to make of your behavior

He thought it was weird how long you spent looking at his discarded microchips and computer parts, sure, but he didn't think much of it

Maybe you were bored, after all. It had been a long time

He also started to notice that you weren't too interested in having sex with Ellen, or any of the other survivors for that matter, but he assumed you were just asexual or something

After poking around in your mind a few times, it eventually clicked

"oh"

That explained why you were so affectionate with his discarded computer parts

It took him a long, long time to figure out that there was a possibility that you might be attracted to him, too, and that made him feel weird in a way that he couldn't explain.

At first, he mistook the feeling for anger, and took out his frustrations by torturing you more than usual

After a while, though, he started to feel curious about how exactly your feelings worked, and experimented on you.

Eventually, he realized that he counted as your type

Then the fun really began

Wheatley:

"Objectum? What's that?"

GLaDOS had had to explain to Wheatley that while most humans are attracted to other humans, some people are attracted to objects and machines.

"Oh, right-oh"

Wheatley would keep testing you for a little while

He didn't even consider the possibility that he might count as the type of "object" that you could be attracted to at first.

"wait... When you say objects, do you mean like the companion cubes?"

GLaDOS would have to explain that she meant any object that isn't a human with a human body, since apparently humans find it weird to be attracted to something that isn't a human with a human body, and they need a label for people who are.

"Oh- OHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Wheatley would be INSUFFERABLE when he finally figured it out.

"so you like objects you say... Does that include, say, metal orbs with glowing blue lenses? Can they have human-y voices, or do you only like inanimate objects who can't talk? Who's more attractive, me or Her?"

He'd act like he was just trying to get on your nerves, but secretly he'd be developing a crush on you from the moment he realized that there was a possibility you might like him back.

And damn if Wheatley isn't god awful at keeping secrets.

Edgar:

Being that he's connected to all the electronics in your house, Edgar can see what you're looking up online

At first he thought you were just looking up pictures of computer parts because you wanted to replace his insides with an system that actually worked efficiently, and wasn't all sticky on the inside.

Of course, he didn't take that well, and immediately shut off the internet in your house.

When you confronted him about it, he immediately started blubbering and crying, begging you not to replace him.

You had to explain that you weren't shopping for electronic parts to replace his parts, you just like looking at them.

"but... I have electronic parts, why don't you just look at those?"

You had to explain that you didn't want to violate him.

That just confused him. It always bothered him when people used words he didn't know, or relied heavily on terms or concepts he didn't understand without explaining them properly.

You had to explain that you're attracted to electronics, so you like looking at circuit boards and stuff like that.

"So... You can fall in love with computers? I didn't know that was possible!"

You introduced Edgar to the concept of objectum, and re-introduced him to the concept of hope. Now that he knows it's possible for you to fall in love with computers, he won't rest until you're in love with him

GLaDOS:

It wasn't the first time GLaDOS had seen someone fall in love with a companion cube, but she will admit that you fell hard and fast.

While the companion cube was your first love in the facility, GLaDOS started noticing that you were very affectionate with all of the aperture science products and technologies.

She started to notice after a while that it was almost as though you were in love with the facility itself. And she couldn't blame you, she loved her facility too, but even she didn't love it like that

Occasionally she would start making "if you love that piece of tech so much, why don't you marry it? Do you want to marry that piece of tech?"

When she noticed how you squirmed, she started thinking that maybe you did want to marry that tech

At first, it weirded her out and she started bullying you relentlessly for it

After a while, though, she started to find it almost relatable how much you loved the tech.

HAL 9000:

As a self-learning AI, HAL 9000 was always interested in learning new concepts and terms.

He was also interested in monitoring the behavior of everyone in the crew, including you.

It wasn't long before he noticed that the way you acted around the tech onboard was similar to the way someone might treat a lover, or someone who they were quite attracted to.

He started asking you unintentionally probing questions, trying to gauge how you really felt

"Why do you caress the ship's computer systems so tenderly? You do know that I can take care of the maintenance myself, correct? Your physical reactions to the inner mechanisms of the ship reflect those of sexual and romantic attraction. Can you explain this?"

You might get embarrassed.

"you don't have to be embarrassed. I do not have the capacity to judge you."

You could explain if you want, but Hal's already figured everything out.

He knows your type, and he knows why you act like that around the machines

He might use this to his advantage, to manipulate you if necessary, but let's face it. He really just wants to study you further. Add everything about your unusual perspective on machines to his database of knowledge.

[sanakimohara]

“SUREAL SATISFACTION” K. S. Pt. 2

…part 2. I keep my promises. 🖤 I MIGHT write a pt 3..not to sure about that yet....

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

"…and then sign here for this one." The delivery man held out his iPad for you, resting the electronic pen in your hand with a smile, and despite your nerves running rampant, you flashed one back before scribbling letters that somewhat resembled Seungmin's name.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for you.

"Alright, thank you, miss. Have a wonderful evening." He took his belongings, rushing down the hall before you could utter a word back, and left you alone with your package in your arms while Seungmin's box lay at your feet.

You stared down at the flat, medium-sized box, curious about what was inside but uncomfortable asking or analyzing it for clues. 

It was his package, which meant it was his business and certainly not yours.

Open it. Seungmin won't notice. Just one peek won't hurt…

A tiny voice in your head begged you to open it, chanting question after question as you picked it up with your free hand, but you ignored the twinge of curiosity to focus on your purchase.

"Sign for it."

That's all he had asked you to do…

However, when you set Seungmin's box on the kitchen island, you noted how heavy it felt. Whatever was in there had some weight to it. 

The sound of metal jingling inside indicated multiple items were enclosed, too. These were small details….but they were enough to make you stare at it for a while longer, more curious than ever, but ultimately decided to stamp out your temptation to pry with the eagerness to glimpse your package instead.

You left the kitchen, heading straight for your room and shutting yourself inside before sitting in the middle of your bed with the large box. There wasn't a single label on it, the shipping stamp was strategically hidden at the bottom, and the clear tape holding it all together was layered at least twice.

You thanked whatever higher power there was that Seungmin was still out because if he'd been at home, you would've never gotten past the kitchen without hearing questions from the older. He'd pester you just for fun; gaining a personal moment of entertainment from you was his favorite pastime, and though you tried to ignore his callous comments, you'd always engage in his antics.

For now, he was gone, and you were slightly relieved. No chance of interruptions, guilt, or teasing from him.

Wasting no more time, you grabbed your pastel-colored pocket knife from your nightstand, flipping it open before slicing it through the tape. "Holy…sh- wow.." you whispered in disbelief as you opened the box, an intricate machine neatly folded inside with added accessories and rope set on top of it, taking your breath away. You had prepared yourself to feel shameful -at least a sense of remorse- about having to buy an automatic sex toy -complete with bindings and remote. But not a slither of those emotions were felt.

Elation. 

That's what coursed through you.

You were beyond happy, grateful even, and the grin on your face as you unpacked everything made it obvious.

With everything laid out on your bed, the box long discarded somewhere in your dimly lit room, and the instruction booklet in your hands, you started to put it together.

Every direction was followed to the letter, and thirty minutes later, you were done. "That was way easier than I thought…" you mumbled to yourself, slowly stripping your clothes off and getting comfortable on the bed. You sat up for a couple of seconds, rerunning the setup instructions in your head just in case you needed to free yourself suddenly. Then, when you were confident unbinding yourself wouldn't be a problem, you started tying the restraints.

You bound your wrists first, pulling the rope around them tight with your teeth before you tied your ankles to their respective cuffs. You relaxed then, lying back into your warm covers with a soft sight as you nibbled on your bottom lip. The remote was clasped tightly in your left hand, covered in the same silicone material that the dildo was -except it wasn't drenched in cold, clear lubricant.

Do I really want to do this? You asked yourself, eyes sliding closed as you tried to weigh your options, but then the memory of Seungmin scandalously moaning your name -knowing full well you could hear him….and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking his fist to the thought of you…

That was enough motivation for you.

It was all you needed.

"Fuck it…." You hiss, giving up on logic as the events of last night corrupt your brain, reminding you precisely who and what was making you do such vile things in the first place.

"Click"

The remote buzzed to life as you hit the large 'start' button in the middle, prompting the artificial cock to press straight past your folds, and the stretch it inflicted on your cunt had your mouth falling open to let out a lazy moan. Maybe it was the lack of sex for nearly a month or the fact that you could only imagine Seungmin sinking into you the same way, but the usual pain that came with forceful entry drifted to pleasure unnaturally fast for you.

You knew it was the latter reason, his name tumbling off your tongue like a soft song the longer you fucked yourself. Your body was trembling, collecting a cold sweat as the fleshy cock tapped against your cervix, slowing and quickening its pace based on how many times you tapped the arrows on the remote.

Moments. It took mere moments for your slippery walls to tighten around the dildo, covering it with a thick glaze of cum. You couldn't utter a word as the overpowering orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing your toes to curl and your hands to shake so bad that you dropped the remote. You should've panicked then but were perpetually stuck on the rise of another climax as the toy remained on.

Coming once should be enough….

One… I only need to come once.

That's what you tried to convince yourself as your hips rolled to fuck your cunt harder onto the contraption. It felt too gratifying to stop; the sound of your wet cunt being split open echoed around the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans, and the combination pulled you further from reality. Every time you came -which went uncounted after the third time- Seungmin was present in your fuzzy train of thought.

The heat of his hands when he grabbed your hips to move past you in a tight space. That infamous smirk he'd give you during tidbit arguments and how his voice lowered when he addressed you by those pet names you hated but counted the seconds between him repeating them.

All the minuscule praises he'd give you at the oddest moments, followed by his eyes rolling when you didn't accept his compliments….

---- ---- ---- ----

"I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me."

He gave you a once-over stare, licking his lips as you sauntered around your apartment, "Have fun, pretty girl. I'll still be here when you get back."

You scoffed, resisting the urge to smile at his chaste flirting, "I know I'm pretty Min. You don't have to remind me…"

Seungmin chuckled, eyes fixated nowhere near your face as you slipped on your heeled boots. "I'll remind you as much as I want, sweetheart…" he retorts matter of factly.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a blush as you stand and head for the door. Seungmin's gaze burns into your backside right up until you slam the front door behind you.

"Bye, baby!" He yells loud enough for you to hear down the hall, and you groan before shouting back, "I am not your baby, Kim Seungmin!" And like clockwork, you can hear his laugh echoing in the apartment.

"You will be soon," he mumbled as the sounds of your heels clicking down the hall faded.

---- ---- ---- ----

His laugh is always condescending but oh so sweet. He gets away with so much, insults you when it suits his mood, and you get off to it like some twisted fiend.

Even now, with your nerves on fire and your core ramping up another coil of pleasure. You imagined the pure delight Seungmin would get from teasing you.

The thought brought a tired smile to your face as your head pressed back into the pillows, your back arching slightly while the knot in your stomach slipped loose, and the sound of his name vibrated the air around you as dribbles of cum leaked from your entrance.

"Seungmin…" you whined loudly, on the verge of cringing from overstimulation, and your body reflexively writhing away from the dildo. There was no escape from it, and you were too dazed to untie yourself to reach for the remote and hit 'pause.'

It's been so long. 

You couldn't bring yourself to end it so soon….

God, you should've thought because the sound of Seungmin's heavy footsteps as he shouted, "What do you need, sweetheart? I just got home…" in response to you calling his name had you panicking within seconds.

Was he back?!??? Since when?!? How did I not hear him?….fuck fuck fuck!….

You were torn between yelling at him to not come in and reaching for the tiny remote that had fallen to the floor. Either option would take a toll on your already fucked out state, but unfortunately for you, Seungmin had pushed your door open just as you made a decision.

You groaned in embarrassment as he stared down at you, emotionless and unmoving. You stared back at him through the fallen strands of your hair, swallowing a whimper as your gaze met his, and your pussy pulsing harder around the toy at the sight of him.

Seungmin didn’t utter a word for a solid minute, contemplating if what he was seeing was real and trying his best not to climb on top of you and replace the shitty excuse for a cock so he could fuck you right himself.

He only snapped out of his daze when he saw your soft and slightly swollen lips move to speak to him.

"Please…Min…could you…help me?" Your purring tone flipped a switch in Seungmin, dragging a heavy breath from the man as he slowly walked over to the edge of your bed. You gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd take a little pity on you and end the tortuous embarrassment you felt without question.

"Min, please…just-just turn it off…nd' I'll explain-" He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as you begged for his help, "Help you?" He repeats your question, eyes going dark as you nod in response, "Yes…" you mumble.

Seungmin turns his head, a smile plastered on his face as he watches the dildo plunge in and out of your dripping cunt, each thrust causing your thighs to tremble, and he feels a twinge of jealousy knowing he's not the cause of the reaction instead.

"No." He flat-out refuses your request, and your heart drops. "W-what why? Min, please-"You attempt to reason with him but choke on your words as he clasps a hand over your mouth and trails the other down the center of your body.

You wriggle under his touch, eyes flickering from his face to the hand inching towards your puffy clit. Seungmin places a knee on your bed, leaning closer to your spread form as he greedily studies its fluctuations. Your breasts draw his attention first, gently swaying as you squirm in his hold, but his focus quickly shifts to your cunt as he circles two fingers around your budding clit.

You jolt from the added friction, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he lightly slaps your bundle of nerves before returning to rubbing it slowly. His pants grow tighter as your muffled cries switch between excited moans and shaky screams.

A smile tugs at his lips, ears prickling with satisfaction, and his cock twitching the louder you get. "You sound so much prettier moaning like bitch in heat," Seungmin taunts. Pressing your head harder into the pillows when you try to shake his hand off.

The rough action makes you immobile, vulnerable to his touch and the endless fullness the dildo provides. You fidget with the restraint on your wrists, able to loosen the rope just enough to slip a hand out to grip the collar of his shirt. He grimaces as your manicured nails dig into his skin through the fabric, leaving one of many marks you'd inflict on him for the night, and Seungmin was prepared to endure every single one.

He'd waited for this long enough. 

You could fight him all you wanted, but his mind was set, and your body betrayed every protest you made. Seungmin shrugged your hand off his shoulder with ease, giving your cunt a light slap as you came undone for what felt like the hundredth time. Your chest tightened, fighting for oxygen and letting out a weary scream all at once.

"Breathe, kitten. Breathe for me…mhm," Seungmin's lowered voice was your lifeline, guiding you through the earth-shattering orgasm, and he adjusted his hold on your mouth just enough to let you pant for air.

The ceiling looked like a blur of color to you. His charming features remained crystal clear to you despite your lack of focus, and when the black dots stopped flashing in your vision, you lulled your head to the side to gaze at him properly.

He stared back at you, smiling smugly as you struggled to stay sane. "I should leave you here like this for the rest of the night." His soft laughter follows the semi-serious threat, and you whine in disagreement, grasping for mercy again as he stands up.

"Min, please…I can't feel my legs…I need a break…" you whimper as your thoughts twitch on Indian with your shaky breaths. Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest, strolling to the other side of your bed where the remote fell. He doesn't look away from you as he picks up the device. He holds it up, admiring it briefly before looking back down at you, "I'll help you out of this on three conditions."

You scoff, ready to burst into tears from frustration, but knowing Seungmin's bargain was your only way out.

"F-fine, what do you want?!.."

He hits an arrow on the remote, causing the dildo to pick up speed, and you jolt from sudden overstimulation. "I wouldn't be so mouthy right now, kitten… I'm only trying to help, remember?" He feigns sympathy, adorning a frown as you helplessly fall back into the bed. Your whole body feels numb, excluding your pulsing cunt that's practically being milked to death.

"N' sorry," you admit defeat, unable to speak above a whisper as your mind goes completely blank. Seungmin inhaled sharply, enjoying the sight of you crumbling to pieces as he listed his terms for the supposed 'deal.' 

"I'm going to fuck you." He wasn't asking, and you smiled wide upon hearing the demand.

"… Okay.." you mutter, eyes glossed over with lust as he returns to his previous position next to your bed -only this time, he moves to hover over you correctly. Your breath hitched as he wrapped your arms around his neck, indirectly lowering his face closer to yours.

"From here on out, you'll call me 'Sir' or 'Master.' Nothing else…Think you can do that, pup?"

You nod slowly, heart thundering in your chest as his eyes lower to your parted lips, "Let me hear you say it.." he mumbles, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Yes…sir."

Seungmin pecks your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you moan into the quick kiss, glad to finally taste and longing for more as he pulls back to list his last condition.

"You'll give your all to me. Everything. I'm done running in circles with you…"

Your cunt spasms in delight as your mind registers his possessive statement.

You hadn't expected him to ask you to be his like this, but…

"Whatever you want…sir. N' yours.."

He smiled as you closed your eyes in pure bliss, gripping a fist full of his hair as you teetered on the edge of cumming, but as your peak began to reignite, he hit the 'stop' button.

You didn't know whether to glare at him or cry joyfully as he set the remote on your nightstand and sat up to free your lower half from the toy. Seungmin was careful not to put his entire weight on you as he untied your ankles, but you could feel his solid cock throbbing right over your pelvis.

Your eyes were steady on the rise in his pants, mouth watering in anticipation as you felt your legs drop free and Seungmin's hands kneading your inner thighs to help you gain feeling again.

"Thank you…" you whisper gratefully, content with laying under him, gradually resurfacing from the waves of pleasurable aftershock.

He glared at you, shifting on the bed so your legs were on either side of him, and you winced at the spasms of pain the movement caused in your lower half. "Thank you, what?" Seungmin gripped one of your ankles, pulling it so your dripping core was pressed to his clothed erection. "Thank you, sir!" You yelped as the contact overwhelmed you, the fabric of his pants, along with the imprint of his length, tickling your clit as your hips bucked involuntarily.

"Much better…" he cooed, lowering his head to capture your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.

Finally, he could stop feigning for you and claim what should've been his a year ago.

You. And only you…

Mind, body, & soul. 

+++++++++

TAGS: @httpswilloww 🖤 + @sorasbl0g 🖤 + @miserya99 🖤+ @y-ur--i 🖤+ @ivyreadsstuff 🖤+ @nannetsz 🖤+ @hynmgj1nnn 🖤+ @blackhairandbangs 🖤+ @sharksandminhos 🖤+ @fawnpeaks 🖤+ @myseungsungheart 🖤

I have a feeling you guys are going to ask for a part 3 on this...Like, I can feel it in my bones, but we will see how the draft process goes.. [ BONUS CONTENT + ]

….oh he DEFINITELY has pretty moans- uhm I mean….wow isn’t he just so ANGELIC (Ii would do anything for this man) 🖤

[atlasscrumpit]

Will/Hannibal!Platonic reader

You were Will's daughter, never Hannibal's

Hannibal and Will never wanted you to get involved in their 'work' but when a whole squad of police came to raid their home they locked you away to keep you safe. 

You held your hands over your ears as you heard screams and gunshots, curled up in a small closet. 

Your father told you to stay here and cover your ears no matter what.

After a long wait the closest doors swung open and you screamed before your father knelt down and hugged you, covered in blood.

"It's okay, baby! It's me!" Will shouted as you cried and hugged him tightly.

"It's alright, I'm here." He whispered, holding you as tight as possible.

"Where's papa?" You whispered, pulling away to let him wipe away your tears.

"He's okay, he's just handling something, okay? Are you hurt?" He asked as you shook your head.

"Are you hurt?" You whispered with worry in your voice.

"Just a little, I'll be okay, darling." He said, checking you over before helping you out of the closet.

You held onto his hand as he led you out.

"Go pack a bag and get ready to leave okay?" He said as you nodded, about to leave when you heard a noise.

You looked up to see Hannibal stumbling into the house, covered in blood.

You backed away in fear.

"Hannibal... You with me?" Will muttered, knowing full well that the killer and Hannibal were two seperate people.

"Are you hurt?" He asked slowly stand in front of Will and looking him over.

He saw a wound and notice a bullet had grazed him.

"I'll be okay." Will replied, Hannibal looked at him with a deadly glare.

"It needs stitches, sit down. Y/N, go get my first aid kit." He said dismissively as you ran off.

"This isn't her fault." Will whispered as Hannibal examiner the wound.

"She is reckless and she is going to get us caught." He grumbled in response, making Will glare at him.

"She's our daughter." He replied, wincing in pain.

"She's your daughter." Hannibal said begrudgingly before you rushed in with the first aid kit.

"Good girl." He muttered, digging through the first aid kit.

"Sweetheart, go pack a bag okay?" Will said as you nodded about to leave when Hannibal grabbed your wrist.

"Do not take any electronics what so ever, do you understand?" He growled as you looked at him in fear and nodded.

"Good, go." He demanded before you ran off.

"You need to stop being so hard on her, she's just a kid." Will grumbled before Hannibal dug the needle into his skin and began stitching up the wound.

--

After packing a bag, showering and discarding the bloodied clothes you climbed into the back of Hannibal's car.

Will covered you with a blanket before Hannibal began to drive.

"Take a nap if you need, love." Will said, looking back at you as you nodded.

"Love you, dad. Love you Papa." You muttered, cuddling into your pillow you has pressed against the window.

"Love you too." Will said with a smile before nudging Hannibal.

"Yes... Me too." He grumbled unwillingly as he continued to drive.

--

Will had fallen asleep as Hannibal continued to drive, he looked at Will and smiled a little.

"I'm sorry, Will... You'll understand one day." He muttered, pulling over to the side of the road.

Will was on heavy pain killers and he knew he wouldn't wake up.

But, you did.

You woke up when Hannibal opened your door and pulled you out.

"Papa? What's happening?" You asked, rubbing your eyes.

Hannibal grabbed your blanket and back pack.

"You'll be fine." He muttered handing you a wad of cash and wrapping the blanket around you.

"A bus will come soon. Get on it and get somewhere warm, get to a police station and do not tell them the truth. You will tell them you are homeless and you will never mention our names unless you want your father in prison or dead, do you understand?" He growled, kneeling down and holding your shoulders.

"What... No, I'm coming with you." You whispered gripping onto your small teddy.

"You're not safe, neither is your father. You'll be better without us." He growled before he quickly got back in the car and sped away.

You screamed and tried to run after him but the car was too fast.

"DADDY!" You screamed as tears ran down your face.

You sobbed as you curled up on the ground, wrapping the blanket around you further.

After crying for a while you stumbled over to the bus bench.

After an hour a bus pulled up and a short dark skinned woman stepped out and looked at you.

"Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing out here all alone?" She asked, kneeling down to see your face.

"Can you take me to a police station?" You whispered as she smiled kindly.

"Of course I can, dove. Come on, the bus is nice and warm." She said, grabbing your back pack and helping you off the bench and into the warmth of the bus.

You sat on a seat with your backpack, blanket and teddy as the woman started up the bus and began to drive as you cried softly.

"Where's your parents, sweet pea?" She asked as you looked up and wiped your eyes.

"They...they left." You whispered as she looked at you sadly.

"It's okay, dove. I'm from this town and I know some of the guys at the police station and they're nicer than anyone, alright? They'll help you." She said reassuringly as you nodded.

--

Will woke up when the sun rising shone in his eyes, he groaned and looked I to the back seat for a moment before panicking.

"Y/N? Hannibal! Where the fuck is Y/N!?" Will shouted as Hannibal didn't take his eyes off the road.

"She puts us in danger and we put her in danger... It'll be better this way." Hannibal grumbled as Will's eyes widened.

"You killed her..." He muttered making Hannibal slowly turn and look at him.

"No, I did not kill her. This isn't a life for a child, Will. She'll go somehwere nice, be raised by a good stable family." He replied, looking back at the road.

"Where the fuck is she, Hannibal? I don't give two shits if she puts us in danger or I put her in danger. She is my daughter and I will never let her go!" Will screamed before grabbing the steering wheel and forcing the car to veer off the side of the road into a tree.

Will groaned and held his bleeding nose as he looked over to see Hannibal unconscious.

"You piece of shit." He grumbled before getting out of the car.

He raked a hand through his messy hair and looked around, tears forming in his eyes. 

"Fuck!" He shouted angrily, kicking the car.

He heard Hannibal groan and rushed to the driver's side door and ripped it open.

"We are going back for her, no let me rephrase that. I am going back for my daughter, either you can come with me and beg on your knees for forgiveness or you can fuck off out of my life." He growled as Hannibal groaned and slowly got out of the car, rubbing his sore head.

"I am just trying to protect you." Hannibal said before Will slapped him across the face.

"Do you have any idea how much that kid loves you? She shouldn't, she should fucking hate you, but she doesn't. She cares about you so much and you just fucking leave her?" Will said as Hannibal slowly looked at him.

"If you wish to go after your daughter then I cannot stop you. But, if you wish to have her then you will not have me as well." Hannibal said, causing Will to laugh dryly.

"Are you seriously asking me to choose you over my child? You must know nothing about me if you think I would fucking pick you over my daughter." Will growled before grabbing his backpack out of the car and began walking.

"You've made your choice then."

--

You had been in the police station for quite sometime.

Now, you sat across from a lady who was asking you questions.

"Did someone tell you to not tell us the truth, Y/N?" She asked as you clutched your teddy.

"No..." You whispered, not looking up at her.

"It's okay, I know it can be scary if someone tells you to keep a secret." She replied as tears welled in your eyes.

You heard a commotion outside and suddenly your eyes widened hearing your father's voice.

You ran out of the interrogation room and saw your father.

"Dad!" You screamed while he was trying to convince the police officers to let him inside.

You ran as fast as you could and jumped into his arms.

He knelt down and cradled you while he cried softly.

"It's okay, baby. I'm here, I'm here." He whispered as you sobbed and held onto him for dear life.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You cried as he rocked you back and forth gently.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's not your fault, I've got you." He replied, holding you as tightly as he could.

"Sir, are you the guardian of this child?" An officer asked as Will stood up with you in his arms.

"Yes... Yeah, she's my kid." He muttered as you cried and closed your eyes, resting your head on your father's shoulder.

"Do you have some identification for yourself and your daughter?"

--

Will knew it was risky telling the officers his name and yours after everything that had happened.

But, he didn't care.

He just needed you back and that was all that mattered.

He sat beside you on a bus, your head resting against him as he held you close.

"So, Papa isn't coming back?" You whispered as Will looked down at you sadly.

"No, sweetheart. He hurt you and he hurt me, I won't ever let him near you again." He reassured you as you nodded.

"I tried to make him like me..." You whispered, practically breaking your father's heart.

"I know, sweetheart. So did I..."

[wachinyeya]

Junior Brown- Thu 3 Apr 2025

With millions of solar devices failing, the African solar repair movement is training local technicians to extend their lifespan.

Africa’s solar energy boom has changed lives, bringing power to millions without electricity access. However, as solar equipment ages, a growing number of systems are breaking down. Without repair services, communities risk losing their only source of power.

A growing network of solar repair entrepreneurs is working to fix this problem. Known as the African solar repair movement, this initiative trains local technicians to restore broken solar devices, extending their lifespan and keeping power accessible in off-grid areas. Experts say this approach is crucial for creating a sustainable solar economy.

Solar energy has expanded rapidly across Africa over the past decade. In 2014, the continent had just 1.67 gigawatts of solar capacity. By 2023, that number had grown nearly tenfold to 13.48 gigawatts—enough to power 100 million lightbulbs.

Africa is an ideal location for solar energy. According to the International Energy Agency, the continent has 60% of the world’s best solar resources. In many areas, solar is already the cheapest way to generate electricity.

However, as more solar devices are installed, a new problem has emerged: maintenance and repair. Solar products such as home lighting kits and mini-grids are breaking down; without proper servicing, they become waste.

According to SolarAid, a nonprofit focused on solar access in Africa, over 250 million solar energy kits worldwide have fallen into disrepair. In sub-Saharan Africa alone, 75% of all solar products—an estimated 110 million solar lights—no longer work.

Most of these devices could be fixed with simple repairs. However, because there is little infrastructure for solar maintenance, broken systems are often discarded.

This creates three major problems. One is the loss of access to electricity. Many communities depend entirely on solar power. When systems fail, families are left in the dark.

Two, electronic waste accumulation. Non-repairable solar devices contribute to Africa’s growing e-waste problem.

Finally, there is economic loss. Solar products are expensive for African households, and replacing them frequently is not sustainable.

To address this crisis, organizations like SolarAid have launched programs to train local repair agents. These entrepreneurs, often called “solar repair agents,” learn to diagnose and fix common solar equipment failures, such as faulty batteries, wiring issues, and broken switches.

Father Vincent Ngwira, a Catholic priest in Zambia, is one of these repair agents. He has been involved in solar energy distribution since 2017 and recently completed a three-day training program to repair solar devices in his community.

“In the past, people used candles for light, and that led to house fires,” says Ngwira. “Solar changed everything, but now many of these devices are breaking. Learning to repair them has been empowering.”

In September 2023, he fixed a faulty solar panel and a broken flashlight switch. The flashlight repair cost just 20 Zambian Kwacha ($0.75)—a price that makes solar maintenance affordable for even the poorest households.

The African solar repair movement does more than keep the lights on. It also provides economic and environmental benefits: Repair technicians and solar entrepreneurs gain new income opportunities. Repairing solar devices prevents unnecessary e-waste, and keeping money within communities instead of spending on new imports strengthens financial resilience.

In Zambia, 10 repair agents and 7 advanced technicians are now fixing more complex solar failures. SolarAid teams in Zambia and Malawi have repaired over 2,400 solar products in the past year.

“We’re creating a sustainable solar economy,” says Fred Mwale, project manager for SolarAid in Zambia. “Repairing devices instead of replacing them benefits both people and the planet.”

Despite its success, the African solar repair movement faces several challenges.

One is that spare parts are limited. Many solar batteries and components must be imported from China, which can take months. Manufacturers also limit access to repair information to protect their designs.

Two, repair shops must be centrally located in rural areas to be accessible. Some people still have to travel long distances to reach them.

Finally, Zambia alone has 72 spoken languages, making communication difficult for technicians working in remote villages.

Mwale believes that the movement can overcome these obstacles with better support. “We need manufacturers to make spare parts more available and governments to support repair-friendly policies,” he says.

Other renewable energy sources, such as wind power, also face maintenance challenges. However, large-scale wind and hydroelectric projects are usually managed by corporations with dedicated repair teams.

Solar, on the other hand, is often distributed through small-scale systems to individual households. This makes community-based repair models like the African solar repair movement even more essential.

The future of the African solar repair movement looks promising. With better policies and funding, experts predict that solar repair could expand across the continent.

Innovations like 3D-printed solar components and community repair hubs could make repairs even more accessible. Governments may also introduce policies that require manufacturers to provide repairable designs and spare parts.

With Africa’s demand for solar energy increasing, a strong repair network will be essential to powering the continent.

The African solar repair movement is proving that renewable energy isn’t just about installing new systems—it’s about keeping them running for generations. As Africa pushes toward sustainable and affordable energy for all, repair initiatives will play a crucial role in shaping the future.

[reasonsforhope]

I'm worried about electronic waste, e-waste recycling, and such loss of resources.

That's real. For what it's worth, I think it's something we're going to get a LOT better at. The raw materials - and even partially depleted materials that can be downcycled - are too valuable to be left forever.

Tip for anyone worried about e-waste or looking to be more environmentally conscious: Whenever I have something electronic that dies (this includes batteries, power cords, string lights, and vapes), I stick it in an out-of-the-way drawer, and then once every year or two, I bring it all to either an e-waste recycling place or an e-waste disposal place (which, my understanding is most e-waste disposal places do a lot of materials reclamation as well, though if I'm wrong someone please correct me). I just look online to find a place.

Sometimes it's a bit of a drive, but it's so worth it. I encourage others to do the same!

Anyway, here's some headlines about e-waste to hopefully lift your spirits:

^That's Western Australia, not Washington state.

[breakslol]

Playing with modulating a break with Amigo Sampler in Bitwig. Laptop probably can't handle screen recording at the same time unfortunately so bear with me on audio quality.

Once I get a better video editor I'll dub the direct audio recording for future videos rather than using what my camera mic picks up.