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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

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A Period Drama

Summary: When that time of the month hits, Y/n wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and forget about the world. Lucky for her, Dean has other plans.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.1K+

Warnings: Language, discussion of menstrual cycle

Author’s Note: I guess I'm emotional this cycle, who knew? Anyway, I wrote this because I wanted to die the other day, and imagining Dean's cuddles was the only way for me to get through it. This is a work of self-indulgence and therefore the Reader is a little less non-descript than I usually try to write, but that's what these things are for! Hope this helps my fellow menstruating people lie it did me xoxo Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

A nagging sensation tugged on her strings of consciousness, bringing the sleeping huntress back to the world of the living. Her mind fought against waking, knowing not nearly enough time had passed since she had retreated to her room the previous evening. As the ache deep in her abdomen became more obvious, she stopped fighting and opened her eyes to the darkness of her room.

“Fuck,” she groaned as she tossed the covers from her body, instantly missing the heat they provided in the recess of the bunker. Y/n rolled from the bed and stood, the action occurring too quickly and the huntress felt the familiar rush between her legs. She cursed herself as she bounded off to the bathroom on the opposite end of the hallway. The socks on her feet muffled her hurried steps as she passed the boys’ rooms.

Once inside, she went straight for the showers and turned the hot water all the way up. Steam enveloped the space as she stripped her soiled panties and old t-shirt from her body. She let the bathroom turn into a makeshift sauna as she rinsed the blood from her undergarments before finally stepping into the boiling shower.

It was unclear how long she stood under the water, searing her flesh and scrubbing away the metaphorical grime, all she knew was the relentless heat was managing to ease the ache from her angry uterus. The tentative knock on the bathroom door snapped her back from the silent reverie she had been indulging in, and Y/n noted how the water had gone almost cold. It was likely she had been in there long enough for Sam to have taken his morning run and if her own body wasn’t attacking itself, she might have felt guilty about using up all the bunker’s hot water.

When she walked out in just a towel, her dirty pajamas rolled into a ball in her arms, she was met with a confused younger Winchester. All she could mutter was a weak ‘sorry’ before she breezed past him and back to her room. The huntress wrapped herself into a pair of sweats and a clean tee, braided her hair out of her face, swallowed a few pain killers, and crawled back under her covers. She thanked whatever higher power had made sure they were hunt-free for the foreseeable future so she could spend the day curled up in a ball. The pills kicked in quick enough to allow her to easily slip back into a blissful sleep.

****

It was nearing one in the afternoon when Dean made his way back inside the bunker, his hands covered in grease and oil from his work tuning up the Impala. He was wiping his hands on an equally dirty towel as he walked into the kitchen to find his little brother making himself a lunch.

“Please tell me that is not your veggie bacon?” Dean wrinkled his nose as he watched Sam putting together a BLT, the various ingredients strewn about the island.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you,” Sam didn’t bother to look up from his task to answer his brother. The look of disgust only depended on Dean’s face as he moved around his sibling to wash his hands in the sink.

The older hunter glanced over his shoulder as the sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder, his gaze landing on a disheveled Y/n. The sweats that hung from her body were wrinkled and she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. There were lines across the left side of her face, indicating she had been sleeping recently. Worry instantly flooded his system as it was unlike their hunting partner to sleep this late unless she was ill.

“Sam, what did you do with my heating pad?” her voice was coarse as she didn’t even bother with pleasantries. No ‘hello’, no ‘ how are you’, just straight to whatever business she had in with the younger Winchester.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s in the linen closet in the bathroom?” Sam answered, completely unperturbed by her callousness.

“So you put my heating pad in the bathroom,” Y/n rolled her eyes and Sam could only offer her a bewildered nod. “What is with you guys and not being able to put shit back where you found it?” The huntress turned on her heel, not waiting for a response before heading to retrieve the item she was seeking.

Sam looked over his shoulder at his older brother, his brows knit together in the middle of his forehead. “What the hell was that?”

“What’s the one thing Y/n uses her heating pad for?” Dean’s lips cured up on one side as he watched the look of realization flash across his brother’s features. The oldest Winchester dried his hands before peeking in the fridge and a few cupboards. “Looks like she could use a supply run. You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m just going to retreat to my room and pretend like I don’t exist for the rest of the day,” Sam picked up the plate that held his lunch and scurried off, leaving a chuckling Dean behind.

****

The only light filling her room came from the laptop that was perched in her lap, playing some television show she had stopped paying attention to a while ago, and the filtered light from the hall through the slats in her door. The huntress was still curled into a ball under her covers, attempting to use what little bit of heat from her computer she could muster as she had been unsuccessful in located her heating pad. She felt bad for ripping into Sam about it, but the truth was he had misplaced her belongings, something that she found happened often around the Winchesters, and she was over it today. Pain tended to make her grumpy, as it did most people, and she wasn’t going to apologize for being pissed at their carelessness.

A soft rapping against her door had her pausing the show as she shoved the device aside. The guest didn’t wait for a response before they pushed the door open, bringing with them a flood of light. Y/n cringed at the sudden change, hiding her face behind her hand.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean’s familiar chuckle sounded before the click of the latch indicated he had closed the door behind him. “I come bearing gifts.”

“What?” she was confused by his words as she dropped her hand and allowed her eyes to adjust back to the relative darkness.

“Your water bottle, half ice, half water,” he set the green canteen on her bedside table. “The heating pad Sammy somehow managed to lose behind the washing machine,” Dean handed her the light green pad folded neatly with the cord sitting on top. Y/n sighed a breath of relief as the eldest Winchester continued. “And a sharable size bag of dark chocolate peanut M&M’s.”

“Dean,” Y/n caught the purple bag as he tossed it her way, biting back a gleeful moan. “I fucking love you.” She unceremoniously tore into the bag and popped a couple of the chocolate candies into her mouth, missing the rush of blood on the Winchester’s cheeks.

“And finally,” he mimicked a drum roll with his mouth and procured a box from his arms, placing it on her bedside table. The woman frowned, unable to make out the object at first in the darkness.

“You bought me tampons? How,” she trailed off, not only awestruck by the hunter’s gesture but amazed at his attention to detail as she read the label.

“There is only one thing you need your heating pad for,” he remarked as he took the referenced object back to plug it into an outlet for her. “Also, you never snap at Sammy.”

“But how did you know what kind to buy?”

“Kind of hard not to when you have a box of them stashed away in Baby’s trunk,” Dean countered as he perched himself on the edge of her bed.

“Hey, those are for emergencies. Besides, I’m sure Baby understands.”

“I’m sure she does.”

Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek as she fiddled with the bag of candy in her lap, the kindness shown by Dean throwing her off. She offered the open bag to her hunting partner, who snatched a handful for himself with a grin.

“Thank you, Dean, seriously. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” her voice was low as the admittance slipped past her lips. “Want to watch some Scooby-Doo with me? You know, if you aren’t busy or anything?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart,” Dean winked at her, that shit-eating grin never leaving his face even as he stood and shucked off his jacket and boots so he could climb into the bed next to her. “Who could pass up Daphne?”

The huntress sat back against the headboard with a roll of her eyes and switched the streaming show on her laptop before unfolding her already warmed heating pad and laid it across her lower abdomen. She moved the laptop at the end of the bed so they could both see it and set the bag of M&M’s between her and Dean to share.

The two settled into the cartoon, laughing in unison at the ridiculous parts and commenting on how the Scooby gang couldn’t have handled that monster had it been real. Three episodes passed by before a shredding cramp ripped through her stomach, the shock of it enough that she was unable to hide the groan as she had been so far.

“You okay?” Dean shifted in his spot next to her, his head turning from the kids’ show to his friend beside him.

“No, I’m not okay. It feels like my internal organs are attempting to exit my body,” she snapped, instantly regretting it when Dean subtly recoiled. “Shit, I’m sorry. I--I didn’t mean…” Y/n was cut off as the pain returned just as intense as it had been moments ago, causing her to roll onto her side and into a ball, clutching the heat of the pad against her body like a lifeline.

“Alright,” Dean huffed before moving the candy and laptop from the bed. Y/n could hear the hunter shift behind her, but her eyes were clamped shut as she tried to breathe through the pain like she was experiencing the contractions of labor of something. She felt the hard lines of his body lock around the curves of her own and his arm snake around her abdomen. His hand rested over hers as he pulled her tight against him, putting more pressure than she had been able to muster against her lower belly. “I’ve got you.”

The heat of his body on one side and the pad against her stomach, combined with the force he was exerting on her uterus, finally allowed her to relax fully for the first time since she had awoken that morning. She never wanted to leave this moment, utterly content in the peace that his presence in her bed brought her. The idea scared her a little, but she figured that was a problem for another day. Now she chose to just live in this moment for as long as he would let her.

“Why?” she muttered into the dark space after she was sure he had fallen asleep as his grip had relented a touch and his breathing evened out, hoping he wouldn’t answer but knowing she had to ask.

“Cause I wanted to,” his voice was gruff, indicating he had probably been on the cusp of falling asleep when she spoke up. “I hate seeing you like this. Figured it was the least I could do.”

“Dean Winchester, are you going soft on me?” she quirked up one corner of her lips, unable to fight the giddiness his words instilled in her chest.

“Sweetheart, there is nothing soft about me when I’m around you,” he chuckled, earning himself an elbow to the gut. He grunted and the two of them fell into a fit of laughter.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” The hunter was ready for her arm this time, his hand moving to wrap around her forearm and pull it into him so as to trap her even tighter than before in his embrace. Y/n struggled against his hold, giggling like an idiot as the two wrestled in the bed a moment before she relented that he was much stronger than she.

“Honestly,” Dean placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder once she had settled, only encouraging her to melt further into his arms. “I’d do anything to make you smile, Y/n.”

“Well, then mission accomplished, Winchester,” she turned her head to flash him a genuine smile to which he reciprocated before planting his pillow-soft lips against hers.

P.S. I didn't even try on this title because this is just a little therapy piece and therefore no one should judge me.

Forevers: @22sarah08 @440mxs-wife @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @asgoodasdancingqueen @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deangirl93 @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jbsgirl4ever11 @jensengirl83 @lunarmoon8 @lyarr24 @mishacollins4evah @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @squirrelnotsam @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @suckmyapplejacks @supraveng @tatted-trina6 @thoughts-and-funnies @traceyaudette @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #spn fic #alex writes #mine #a period drama

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carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory · 3 years

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The Story of Oil in Western Pennsylvania: What, How, and Why?

by Hannah Smith

I am a fries-on-salad, haluski dinner, dairy farm heritage kind of Western Pennsylvanian. I grew up near Venango and Crawford County and had a rural childhood. I went to a small school with about 300 kids in K-6th grade. Around 4th grade, I remember taking a field trip to Titusville, Pennsylvania. I remember seeing the familiar road signs and buildings as our bus gassed along the back roads. I had family in the Titusville and Oil City area, so it was a familiar route to take with my parents. I remember thinking, even at that young age, that the area looked worn and just, well, tired. But I was too young to grasp how this tired little town’s geology had changed the global economy and course of human history. When I was older, I pursued a degree in geology and began to understand more about my local community.

Our field trip took us to Titusville, Pennsylvania to visit Drake’s Well, the first commercial oil well in the United States. The site is named after the well’s driller, Edwin L. Drake who in 1859 struck oil outside of Titusville for the Seneca Oil Company. The company took the name from the Seneca Nation, one of the original Five Nations of the Haudenosaunee or Iroquois Confederacy, who had long made use of the resource Drake sought by skimming naturally-occurring slicks of petroleum, or unrefined oil, from the surface of local waters. These Indigenous people, who were removed from their native lands in the 1700s, 1800s, and 1900s, did not benefit from the Seneca Oil Company.

In the early 1800s oil was an unwanted by-product from salt wells (wells used to mine salt), and before that, a traditional medicine. In small doses, oil was used to treat respiratory diseases, epilepsy, scabies, and other ailments¹. Even today, chemicals made from the refining of petroleum are responsible for many of our modern medicines. Ointments, antihistamines, antibacterials, cough syrups, and even aspirin are created from chemical reactions created from petrochemicals².

However, the purpose of Drake’s Well was to produce oil for refining into kerosene for lamps, and thereby provide an alternative to the whale oil then used to illuminate homes and workplaces. Salt wells used water to dissolve salt source rock, and then carry the resulting brine through piping to the surface where it would be evaporated to leave salt as a solid residue. Although this method works for producing salt, it was far less efficient for producing oil. Productive oil drilling required new techniques, and one of Drake’s most important innovations was the “drive pipe,” sections of cast iron pipe driven into the shaft to protect the drill bit from water and cave-ins. Through experimentation and innovation, on August 27, 1859, Drake struck oil when his drill reached a depth of 69.5 feet.

While Drake’s Well was not the most productive, or largest oil well, the Titusville site is globally significant because it kick-started the petroleum drilling revolution that eventually changed global economies and environments. While Edwin Drake lived a hard life even after his discovery, he is still considered the father of the modern petroleum practices and industry³.

When my field trip class arrived at the Drake’s Well Museum I remember seeing an odd looking wooden building with an awkward chimney-like structure on one side. We were led through single-file so everyone could get a look at the steel machinery used in the drill, and the pipes that dispersed oil into wooden barrels clustered in the building. In my 10-year-old brain there is no way I could properly fathom that this discovery was related to many of the comforts and conveniences I took for granted in my life, such as cars, heating, electricity, plastics, medicines, and even the asphalt roads that we drove on. Why was Titusville special? More specifically, why did western Pennsylvania have oil in the ground?

From about 490 to 360 million years ago, during the span of geological time known as the Ordovician Period and Devonian Period, most of what is now Pennsylvania was an ocean basin teeming with life. Pre-Appalachian Mountains systems eroded over time and deposited sediment of sand, silt, and mud that mixed on the seafloor with the dead plant material. Currents at the ocean bottom were minimal, leaving the accumulating sediments and organic material relatively undisturbed and oxygen-free. Without oxygen, bacteria that normally break down organic material could not act. A thick, black, anoxic ooze formed, preserving the organic material. Over millions of years, forces caused by plate tectonics generated enough heat and pressure to compact the sediments into rock and “cook” the organic material into petroleum.

If you’re from western Pennsylvania, you’ve probably heard of the Marcellus and Utica shales. The natural gas extracted from these rock units formed in a similar way to petroleum but was subjected to a much longer period of heat and pressure.

With Edwin Drake’s success, and layers of oil-bearing rock relatively close to the surface, Titusville boomed. The year Drake drilled his first oil well, Titusville only had 250 residents. However, by 1865 the population increased to 10,000. Nearby Pithole City, now a ghost town, had 50 hotels during the oil peak of the area around 1866. This boom was short lived as other drilling companies began operations in the area and excess production lowered oil prices. Companies picked up to look elsewhere almost as quickly as they appeared⁵. While Titusville boomed and busted, the oil industry itself was growing. Drake drilled for a product to compete with whale oil, but the oil industry underwent phenomenal growth because the demand for its product grew as a lubricant for engines and many other types of machines, a resource for heating on a distributed scale, and as a refined fuel for developing motorized vehicles. Two World Wars during the first half of the 20th Century and the population explosion of the 1950s further increased demand for petroleum. During the Century’s latter half advancements in oil drilling technology made ocean drilling platforms a reality, and with them an increase in oil production as well as an increase in negative impacts due to devastating oil spills.

As of 2016, the world consumed over 97 million barrels daily⁶. So what does combusting 97 million barrels of oil a day, a resource from below the surface, mean for the Earth’s atmosphere? The burning of fossil fuels produces greenhouse gases such as carbon dioxide, methane, nitrous oxide, and fluorinated gases. Greenhouse gases absorb heat from the sun that the earth’s surface reflects back out into the atmosphere, similar to how a blanket traps in body heat. Burning fossil fuels causes climate change by increasing the total amount of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, thickening the “blanket” around the earth, and increasing the global average temperature. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), in 2019 greenhouse gas CO₂ emissions totaled 33 gigatons, or 1 billion metric tons, or about the weight of 1.5 billion school buses⁸. Climate change is responsible for increased frequency and severity of weather disasters, wildfires, and flooding, to name a few negative impacts. The abundant CO₂ in our atmosphere equilibrates with and diffuses into our oceans, causing the water to become more acidic and eroding the calcium carbonate structures of coral and other marine organisms. Climate change does not just affect wildlife, it also affects the lives of Pennsylvanians. In Pennsylvania climate change is likely to lead to increasing home insurance rates, higher taxes to replace infrastructure, longer allergy seasons, increasing heat stroke rates in citizens, rising food costs due to crops damaged by erratic weather and higher temperatures, and decreasing water quality and availability due to large storms causing water contamination⁷.

Early organisms were buried by sediment 488 to 360 million years ago and altered into petroleum by heat and pressure. For thousands of years, Earth’s petroleum reserves were largely untouched. Innovator Edwin Drake changed petroleum’s role by successfully drilling the first commercial oil well in North America that August day in 1859. Petroleum became a global commodity, eventually fueling a fast paced modern life. Now in the 21st century, the burning of fossil fuels, such as petroleum, is causing worldwide rapid climate change.

When I was on that field trip to Drake’s Well in 4th grade, we did not discuss the global or local implications of petroleum. This resource is responsible for many of the day to day conveniences that have come to define contemporary life, but it also feeds environmental change that is forcing a “new normal,” and will cause an existential threat to humanity. I could not have fathomed that this global resource had its start in my own family’s backyard. I think that Drake’s Well is a good reminder that Earth-changing innovations can happen anywhere. I don’t think Drake could have predicted the scale to which his discovery would change society and the environment over the next 160 years, in the same way that most people do not realize how their small individual actions are affecting the larger social-ecological systems, and sustainability of all life on Earth. Although individual actions can negatively affect Earth, they can also be positive. Who knows, the next innovation to combat anthropogenic climate change may be happening in your backyard. Wind and solar farms have been developing and growing throughout Pennsylvania since 2007, providing an alternative option for electric energy use.

I started having more appreciation for the Earth Sciences as I got older. This eventually led me to obtaining a bachelor’s degree in geology, interning with the National Park Service at the Hagerman Fossil Beds in Idaho, and working in mapping for a few years before returning to school for illustration and design in hopes to marry the sciences and arts together. While obtaining my geology degree I met my now husband who has a Master’s in Structural Geology, and worked in the natural gas field for five years before making the switch to environmental geology. Our family's income was supported by the fossil fuels industry for a time, and therefore we understand a decent amount of the ethics and controversy that is in the industry. However we are both very invested in the earth sciences and look forward to more sustainable tech preserving a better environment for the future.

Hannah Smith is an intern in the Section of Anthropocene Studies. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

References:

1 Early Medicinal Uses of Petroleum 2015

https://daily.jstor.org/petroleum-used-medicine/

2 Modern Uses for Petroleum in Medicine 2019

https://context.capp.ca/articles/2019/feature_petroleum-in-real-life_pills

3 Drake’s Well History of Petroleum 2016

https://www.aoghs.org/petroleum-pioneers/american-oil-history/

4 Description of petroleum formation 2014

http://elibrary.dcnr.pa.gov/GetDocument?docId=1752503&DocName=ES8_Oil-Gas_Pa.pdf

5 The boom and bust cycle of the oil industry 2015

https://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/23/business/energy-environment/oil-makes-a-comeback-in-pennsylvania.html

6 World Oil Statistics 2016-Current

https://www.worldometers.info/oil/

7 List of the Effects of Climate Change on People and how to protect yourself 2019

https://blogs.ei.columbia.edu/2019/12/27/climate-change-impacts-everyone/

8 International Energy Agency 2019

https://www.iea.org/articles/global-co2-emissions-in-2019

9 Drake’s Well Museum

https://www.drakewell.org/

10 Seneca-Iroquois National Museum

https://www.senecamuseum.org/

11 Seneca Nation Oil Process in New York State

https://nyhistoric.com/2013/10/seneca-oil-spring/

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Drakes Well #Pennsylvania #Oil #Petroleum #Fossil Fuels #Anthropocene #Climate Change

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dear-yandere · 4 years

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hiraeth (ii).

hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

yandere! don! giorno giovanna x f! reader. collab with @ddarker-dreams. read part one here! do not re-upload or use our writing without permission.

› warnings: angst, blood and gore, poisoning, canon-typical violence, death. › word count: 9.3k. › art credit: spearthymint.

Intrusive, lifeless eyes watch on from afar with tangible disgust. Hatred being the driving point behind his entire existence, all positive emotions are but a long forgotten memory of the past. To see the devil incarnate rejoicing in the fine pleasures of life is sickening, enough to make his head spin in further abhorrence. Observing from a safe, undetectable distance has been a rough challenge. All for the sake of procuring revenge, to fill the hole in his heart Giorno Giovanna tore out all those years ago.

Fueled by malice, the Stand, Snake Oil, slithers in the shadows of false paradise. More akin to a hybrid between human and snake, Snake Oil is the size of a fully grown man when stretched out to his fullest. His appearance is similar to that of a cobra, clad in ebony scales that serve as armor and dull, ruby eyes. Despite his imposing physique, it is truly unfortunate; having seen Giorno up close, Snake Oil knows killing him is impossible. So he’ll go for the next best possibility, inflicting the same pain he felt all those years ago. Having what you love most in the world ripped from you, torn apart before your eyes until nothing but blood and flesh remain. This is the bleak world of gangsters. To take and be taken from. To maintain equilibrium, vacillating between the highest of triumphs and lowest of defeats. Snake Oil has known nothing but the latter, surrounded by loneliness and bitterness that festers like an open wound. The scars of that day remain, the corpses of his family attempting to defend one another a grim reminder. A reminder that he’ll grip until his last breath, his only anchor in this world.

An eye for an eye.

The two of you are a picture perfect scene; pity how such beauty is fleeting. All it’ll take is a single opening. Giorno’s guard is lowered considerably, but he clings to you like an insistent shadow. How irritating. If only he left your side for a few more moments, then you’d be within range to kill. To have revenge just within grasp feels surreal in the best of ways. It brings a rush that the Stand hasn’t felt in years. The pain that makes up his resolve has yet to fade, pulsing and growing stronger as he searches for an opening.

There’s a visible shift between you two.

Snake Oil’s uncertain of the nature of things from this distance, gathering clues to the greater picture through body language. You’re on edge, impulsive, as you separate from Giovanna’s clutches, however momentary it may be. Snake Oil realizes this is the best opportunity he’ll be afforded. It isn’t the ideal set of circumstances, with your insistent shadow nearby, but it’s enough to be out of Gold Experience’s range. The Stand possesses great speed, a skill that will be fully taken advantage of in this course of this plan; in this moment, it seems more like a blessing than a skill, given who he’s going up against.

Checking to make sure the Don doesn’t follow you and remains seated, fate finally seems to have smiled upon Snake Oil today. This is the best opportunity he’ll get.

Slithering from his hiding spot amongst thickets, he lunges at you from behind. A horrified shriek leaves your lips at the constricting sensation surrounding you, body feeling like it may explode at any second. The air is forcefully pushed from your lungs, breathing growing erratic. Out of instinct, you struggle in hopes of freeing yourself, to no avail.

Two, phantom-like apparitions phase through your neck. You cry out, but the sound is pitiful and choked, dying mid air. The skin of your neck is raw, the insides slightly turned out and exposed in order to accommodate the invisible fangs of your attacker. The area pulses, quickly numbing when a venom is injected into your veins. The change is immediate, your eyes widened to their brim and your screams choked into your throat like spit. Your vision darkens slowly, the grip you once had on your consciousness now gone; the last thing you remember is the shock on Giorno’s face.

Giorno rises in an instant, a flash by his side procuring Gold Experience Requiem to come to your defence. Before any more movements are made on either side, Snake Oil takes control of the situation by speaking in a booming voice. It commands authority, knowing that leverage is within his grasp. That this wicked man wouldn’t dare endanger your life.

“Make one, tiny move, and I snap her neck.”

This is the plan, for better or worse. For Snake Oil to utilize its ability, a fast acting venom that’ll kill you within minutes. The in-between time of injection and subsequent organs shutting down will take place. During this period, he’ll finally find satisfaction in Giovanna’s suffering, helpless to aid you in fear of making it worse. Changes in your skin should be taking place now, veins growing dark as it carries the lethal dosage to the rest of your body. It’s acting slow, Snake Oil realizes. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, a false concern born from his anxiety about the situation.

It's a tricky situation, one which requires Giorno to act fast and tread carefully.

“I take it you won’t tell me who you are.” Giorno chooses his words with the utmost care despite the shock and anger rolling from his body. Gold Experience Requiem hovers closeby, the same rage thinly veiled beneath the Stand’s imposing and threatening presence. As Giorno’s Stand, GER has always been utterly taken with you, having no need to hide its affections like its user must. He is a pure amalgamation of Giorno’s love for you; the sight of your life endangered is no doubt a blow to its usual composure and restraint. Neither party wants nothing more than to destroy their enemy in an instant, but there’s no guarantee you wouldn't be caught up in the fray.

“You say that as if you remember the names of every person you’ve hurt,” Snake Oil does little to hide his animosity, keeping an eye out for any tricks Giorno may have. “It made no difference who I was before. Not until I threatened your little prisoner, that is.” The Stand sneers, its arm coiled around your neck. Its tail is strung around your lower half, restricting any flailing and movement should the poison’s effect be prolonged.

“What is it that you want?” Ignoring the Stand’s treatment of you, to the best of his ability, Giorno tests the waters. Every word the Stand speaks is funneled into his mind, searching for hints that can be taken advantage of, for any cracks that can be slipped through. The top priority is to get to you out of harm’s way, no matter the cost. Composure on either end is unfaltering, a duel of wits to secure a victor. This is a matter of life and death. And still, Giorno hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to see your body, your skin pallid and your limbs motionless, cradled in the arms of a man who intends you harm. His composure falters at the mere sight. That Stand isn’t just holding you; he’s holding Giorno’s happiness, his future, his heart in a vice grip. He sees the way your eyebrows knit and your body winces, the Stand’s grip far too tight to insinuate any goal other than to kill.

Snake Oil only smiles in response, not yet wanting to ruin this moment of pure distress radiating from the Don and his Stand. The sight itself is rapturing; it’s not everyday that a lowly civilian such as himself gets to see one of the most influential men in the world come apart.

Unabashed, Giorno considers what information is presented to him. From how this Stand speaks, its user is older, if not a bit inexperienced. No slang or other terminologies from a younger generation are present in his words, it’s far more removed and bitter. As if the user has seen the worst the world has to offer, callous in his direct approach; as if the user is betting everything on the line for a small chance at attacking the Don of Passione.

He needs to get you out of the Stand’s range. Since the Stand didn’t attack him, the main source of his user’s ire no doubt, it’s likely a long-range Stand. Any suspicious movements will lead to your death. And, from a quick look around, there are no suspicious vessels within a 10 km radius of the island; he would have seen them approaching long before, had there been. Its user must be far, and the Stand must be operating at its maximum range. Engaging in close-range combat would be the best bet if you weren’t engulfed in the Stand’s arms, its poison already blackening the veins around the entrance wound. Killing it might prove to be the only antidote, but on the other hand, it’s a risky trade. Perhaps the Stand’s power doesn’t include producing an antivenom — killing it early would slash any chances of saving you before the poison spreads further into your system. The only option for Giorno now is to provoke him, upsetting the Stand to the point where a mistake is made. In that opening, Giorno will strike.

“It must’ve been a lot of work to make it here,” Giorno begins his plan with a cautious comment, searching for any outward reaction. Nothing. Assuming he’s safe to continue, he offers his observations. “If you have any demand, make them known now.”

It’s not so much stalling, but rather, testing the waters. To see how much resistance he can offer without you being placed in any more danger, igniting sparks that will only gain strength with time. Each word is selected with great care, not wanting to further upset the emotional user and trigger an undesirable outcome. Under the face of immense pressure, Giorno steels himself. It’ll do you no good otherwise.

The Stand lets out a distorted chuckle, its grip on you unwavering. “Demands? Of course, someone in your line of work would naturally come to that conclusion. You think I’d go this far for power? Money? Drugs?”

Giorno’s eyes narrow, and he mentally checks off one motive.

“There’s nothing then? No affiliation, no desire for material gain?” Giorno’s incessant line of questions come to a halt when the Stand tightens its grip around you. Sensing that Snake Oil’s growing irate, Giorno can only assume it’s because this encounter isn’t going as planned. Given how frail you are, the poison should have spread to major points in your nervous system, your death imminent. While Giorno has his theories, ones he can only hope to be true at this very moment, they’re placed on the back burner for the time being.

“How could I forget? That’s all that matters to people like you.” The Stand’s tone is low, prudent. Giorno’s interrogation is getting somewhere, it seems. The Stand’s grip on your shoulders have loosened slightly, only to retighten within a moment’s notice. Giorno’s heart tightens in response, the unpleasant feeling not showing on his face in the slightest. “Gain. How to make more at the expense of others, a greed that cannot be sated no matter whose life is taken in the process.”

Ah. Perhaps...

“You say that like nothing could satisfy you.” The tempest unfolding in Giorno’s mind begins to calm. His answers lie at the eye of the storm, waiting to be found. It’s an easy enough feat for someone of Giorno’s caliber, as his job requires quick-witted thinking and observation. So he presses forward, his words more daring, his answers more confident.

The Stand can’t help but grimly agree, darkness spreading over its inhuman face upon realizing how unaffected the don is. “Nothing can.”

It’s brief, but Giorno catches a glint of sadness cross the Stand’s features. A trick of the light, perhaps, as he’s yet to see any Stand capable of showing emotion; and yet, this one reeks of resentment and regret. He’s closer to his answer.

“Not even her death?”

“It’s a place to start.” The Stand hisses in a displeased tone. This isn’t how he envisioned this encounter in his mind, the countless outcomes that all ended with Giorno Giovanna in the pits of despair. He should have known better; the Don of Passione is cruel. A monster who wouldn’t be phased even by the loss of his beloved. Still… an element of unknown is always present in Stand battles. Your immediate death should’ve been carried out by now. That’s how it was meant to be; the venom is fast acting on normal people, only slightly less-so on stand users. He draws bated breath and lets his expectant gaze flicker toward you. The moment you breathed your last, Snake Oil would have true satisfaction, witnessing Giorno lose everything he holds dear, just as he had all those years ago. Ultimately, he’d be killed for his transgressions. But he’d come to terms with that long ago, the final chapter of his life ending in Giorno’s grief. The ultimate satisfaction, even if it sends him to Hell. Even if it keeps him from his family.

But your face is pristine, calm despite the painful wound on your neck and the quickly blackening vessels under your skin. You… you’ve stolen that opportunity from him. Why won’t you just die already, like you’re meant to? Why can’t you die as quickly as his own family died before him? It can’t be due to Giorno’s Stand. If you were within Gold Experience Requiem’s range, that meant Snake Oil would be as well. The battle would be hardly fought, the Stand’s sacrifices for nothing. If that were the case, Giorno wouldn’t be watching from afar, the great Don of Pasione helpless to save his own beloved.

Something is wrong.

He can’t let it be for naught. Not after all the sacrifice, after all the hellish years that plagued him. Even now, Giorno waits patiently, an air of dignitary grace and poise befitting someone of his position. His eyes never once stray from the Stand’s physique, not even to check on his beloved, presumably searching for an opening to end the Stand’s life. There’s no chance to give it more thought. The power the Stand wanted to hold in this moment is faltering, slipping between his fingers like fine sand.

“How long ago was it that I took something from you?”

He’s going out on a limb, an educated guess more than anything else. He almost feels pathetic, betting your life like this, as if you’re another bargaining chip in Passione’s plans, another expendable pawn. But there’s no other option in his sights, his thoughts filled with saving the light of his life from the darkness of his own past.

There’s no longer an immediate response from the Stand, nor a sarcastic quip full of loathing. It felt like the most logical explanation, revenge being the greatest motivator known to man. Giorno knows he made the correct assumption, or something close to it, considering Snake Oil’s change in attitude. Did the Stand think Giorno would remain in the dark until the end?

“What… what do you mean?”

Hesitation.

Giorno’s lips twitch into a small, satisfactory smile, his nerves having earned some rest upon guessing correctly. He continues, this time with a barrage of thinly-veiled accusations rather than questions. “It must’ve been longer than a few months, with how much planning this would’ve taken. So when was it? A year, two maybe?”

The most drastic changes were made within Passione during the first six months of Giorno taking over.

“Why does the time even matter?” He bites. “All the people you’ve killed, they’re nothing but faceless names on a list to you.”

Giorno wants to laugh; for someone so bent on killing him, he took the bait far too easily.

“While that holds some merit, you’re no better in that regard.” He begins, shaking his head and shifting his weight onto the other foot, looking awfully lax despite the context of this conversation. He takes note of the way Snake Oil’s fingers twitch with arrogant annoyance. “Wanting to involve an innocent life who has nothing to do with this, you don’t know the first thing about her.”

“You’re wrong. I know plenty about this girl who had the misfortune of meeting you,” Snake Oil’s blank eyes flicker towards your incapacitated form. You look more like a helpless pup than the wife to a mafia boss; perhaps… perhaps that’s why he chose you. For your vulnerability, for your innocence. “Not that you made it easy. Having virtually every aspect of her existence wiped from the planet, going so far as to pay off police to end their missing person search… scum never has hopes of growing, do they?”

Giorno has no reason to justify his thoughts to a stranger who intruded on your paradise and put your life in peril, no matter what injustices he might have caused the man in the past. Only for the motive of provoking him further does he respond. “For the sake of protecting her from those who’d do her harm.” He quips, his expression unchanging.

“Is that what helps you sleep at night, Giovanna? A pat on the back for kidnapping some girl from her life, taking away all her freedoms? Letting her family search and search, only to be fed lies that there are no leads, that the case has gone cold?” Snake Oil’s grip on you falters slightly, a wave of pity washing over him at your poor predicament. How unfortunate you are to have earned the attention of a demon… “You don’t know the first thing about losing someone precious to you, do you? What you’re doing to her isn’t protection. This is greed, meant only to benefit yourself,” the Stand accuses. “Considering how greedy you lot are, I’m surprised it hasn’t occurred to you that, if it weren’t for your manipulation, she would’ve slit your throat weeks ago.”

Giorno is wholly unfazed; he has been called worse, by you even. Nothing the Stand says or will say could come close to the unfiltered hatred he’s heard from you. “Believe what you want, Snake Oil. It makes no difference to me.”

“... So it doesn’t. I suppose labels hold no significance in your life — you’ve come to terms with what you really are. You're a fool, thinking someone like yourself is capable of love. A murderer can experience no such thing.”

“And that’s what I am to you,” Giorno deduces, scouring the Stand’s mannerisms for any clues that may be of use. “A murderer.”

“It’s not what you are to me. It’s an undeniable fact.”

Giorno doesn’t give him the luxury of a response nor the slightest change in his own expression. His stare is blank, even with your life on the line, even when you hang uselessly from the enemy’s arms. The venom is spreading, creating a thick, void-like trail along the paths of each vein it reaches. Starting from the entrance wound in your neck, your blackening veins look like tendrils, crawling up your face and down your chest — toward your brain, your heart. So that is his Stand power...

“Does she know, Giovanna?” Snake Oil hisses, handling your unconscious body harshly. Giorno bites down on his bottom lip at the mere sight, composing himself; now is not the time to strike, not over something so trivial. If that were the case, he would have used Gold Experience Requiem the moment this enemy laid a single finger on your person. Snake Oil barks out more questions, clarifying himself. “Does she know who you truly are beneath that mask?”

Giorno returns his gaze to his enemy, the look in his eyes hardening considerably as he chews on the question. Is that his motive? To use you as a bargaining chip, a means to lower his guard far enough to strike? It’s clever, if nothing else, but Giorno is poised in the art of manipulation. The chaos unraveling in his head, jumping from conclusion to conclusion over your current state — even that is pushed to the far reaches of his consciousness. Lashing out will do the Don no good. It’s a strength right now more than anything, the ability to stuff his own emotions and humanity into the recesses of his mind. Considering how emotional this Stand and its user must be to find a remote, isolated island and its sole inhabitant — regardless of Passione’s extensive influence over the territory — this man has a personal vendetta against Giorno himself.

But he should have never involved you.

Occupied with their back and forth, the pair of men fail to take notice of how your finger twitches by your side. The movement is subtle, easy to miss; even Giorno is too caught up in the situation to pay you any mind for once. The slightest movements of your incapacitated body are the least of his concerns, right now, his mind filled with one thought: you haven’t awoken. You are dying, and that is far more than Giorno can take.

“She doesn’t need to know.”

The Don smiles sardonically. Gone is the ray of light that usually graces his features when he sets foot on this island, when his gaze lands on you. This man keeps speaking of you as if he knows you. If you were awake right now, you’d be easily swayed, your thoughts a mess and your mind easily malleable. This could ruin everything, everything he’s built here, everything he’s built for you, with you. You won’t look at him the same. Not like this morning. Not even like the weeks before, spent in harrowing isolation, flinching at his very presence. You’ll look at him like you would a monster; horrified.

But you aren’t awake. You are on the brink of death and he’s made next to no progress in your rescue. What a pitiful excuse he is. For all his power and influence, he can’t even protect you. He can’t even protect the very thing keeping him alive, the only person that showed a semblance of genuine love for him, even if it was hidden behind a hesitant and doubtful countenance. He was making progress. You were making progress.

“I am a murderer, as all gangsters are, but my reasons are just. I don’t need to explain them to someone such as yourself.” He laughs blithely. “Who did I kill that was so important to you?” He asks the same way one would ask for the time.

Snake Oil doesn’t answer.

“For you to come here, you must believe their death to be unjust. Who was it?” Giorno dwells on the thought for a second, deducing that these unknown variables must be closely related to this Stand’s user. “I can hardly recall their names, much less their faces. That begs the question: what did they do?” His smile grows, one-sided, as if knowing something his enemy does not. “I wonder… was it human trafficking? Narcotics?”

His only response is a glare, the Stand’s arm tightening around your neck like a noose. But, the Don head only cants to the side, testing the waters further.

“No matter. If I wasted time doing so myself, they must have deserved to die.”

It’s spoken like an irrefutable fact. An ultimate dismissal of human life, of their own autonomy. An insult to the memory of those Snake Oil held dearest. The words aren’t only indifferent, but spoken with implicit confidence. In the recesses of his mind, he knows what it is Giorno is trying to do. Rationale is snuffed out, replaced with righteous fury.

“You… you don’t deserve to speak of them. You know nothing.”

“Do I now?” The Don’s body relaxes, now knowing what the Stand is after. The investigation falls; the interrogation begins. “Ah, I remember.” His lips twitch into a cruel smile, enjoying the act of playing with this enemy’s feelings. To be ruled by one’s feelings, to the point of enacting revenge on a man you haven’t a chance of winning against — this Stand and its user wouldn’t make it in the world of gangsters for much longer. “A wife, and a….son was it? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? For revenge.” He tests the waters with a contemplative tone despite already knowing the answer, the Stand’s body language holding a tension and enmity it hadn’t moments before. “I don’t recall their faces or names, really, but I remember their screams. Your wife was groveling at my feet, begging for mercy. She had this look in her eyes — betrayal. You didn’t tell her your true profession, did you?” The Don’s lips twitch when Snake Oil falters, the latter’s eyes wide. “And your son… a prominent member in the very drug routes Passione aims to quell. I remember he tried to bargain with me, sell you out in exchange for my mercy.” Giorno laughs at the irony. To not even be trusted by your own family… “Like father, like son. He deserved to die.”

Snake Oil draws a sharp breath.

“And your daughter… such a sweet little thing. She didn’t understand what was happening.” He recalls with faint disinterest. “The look on her face was so tragic. I almost felt sorry for her. But she is related to you by blood, and scum can only breed scum.” An idea formulates, the words pressed past his lips as easily as breathing. “It’s a pity, though. She got away before I could…” He trails off, relishing in the way Snake Oil chokes pathetically on this information; his daughter… his only family is alive, somewhere, and... “I suppose I'll have to find her, take care of what I started." Giorno finishes.

“Shut up!” In his anger, Snake Oil’s grip tightens around your neck, squeezing at your already-suffocated veins. Giorno’s eyes flicker, taking note of the blackening nerves beneath your skin. “Don’t forget who’s in control here, Giovanna…!”

It’s all talk meant to rile him up, create an exploitable opening. Snake Oil refuses to fall into the trap, a ploy meant to keep him from enacting revenge. The words are heavy, a weight over his shoulders, but the Stand has you. While you should be dead by now from his ability, there are other ways to kill. Messier methods that he didn’t wish to stoop to, not until now. Giorno Giovanna, in all his sadistic glory, has dug a grave for his own beloved; an end truly befitting a monster such as himself.

“The pain I felt that day… you get to experience it now. You’ll pay for your sins in blood,” the Stand sneers, its expression full of countless years of pain. His gaze turns toward your unconscious body, his mind already concocting plans of a painful death. “Her blood.”

"You view me as a demon, but do you have the resolve to stoop to my level?" Giorno quips, his resolve quickly running thin. The air is tense, suffocating, but he can’t let his mask falter. It would mean the end to this. An end to you. An end to this paradise, this false Eden.

He’s not ready for that. Not yet. Not when you were finally...

“So sure of yourself, so confident…” Every word drips with malice, forced out from a dark place. Every syllable is a shot to Giorno’s heart, to his willpower, Snake Oil feels his goals shift, wanting nothing more than to prove Giorno wrong. That not everything can fall into place as he sees fit, that he isn’t as omnipresent as he believes himself to be. To see those calculating eyes widen in horror, knowing that he made a grave error.

It’s wishful thinking. Nothing in this world is that simple. If it were, Snake Oil’s family would still be by his side,and he wouldn’t be here, threatening an innocent girl with the displeasure of being involved with the worst scum society has to offer. He wouldn’t have had to stoop to the levels he did, likely disappointing those he cared for in the distant past. He wouldn’t have to stoop to Giovanna’s level and kill a blameless soul.

Monsters can only breed monsters.

Should the poison fail, so be it. It’s a messier death, a far less merciful one, but Snake Oil no longer has the capacity to care. How could he, after being taunted, when it was Giorno who was meant to be cowering away in anguish? The Stand’s grip around your limp body strengthens, intent on strangling out all signs of life. This is it, the final act of dishonor to end it all. Within a few seconds, you should be reduced to nothing but a corpse, a shadow of your former self, that sadistic light in Giovanna’s eyes long gone.

Time is at a standstill. It all happens in the blink of an eye.

At his torso, there’s a forceful shove that sends him sprawling backwards, air knocked from his lungs. Snake Oil lets out a shocked gasp, noticing the surprise on Giovanna’s own face; it’s clear he wasn’t expecting this turn of events, either. This attack… it couldn’t have been him. So that means you’re…

Before Snake Oil can dwell on his revelation, Gold Experience Requiem phases into the Stand’s field of vision, its speed unmatched and its strength beyond anything he’d prepared himself for. He knew death was coming should he mess up, should he let that monster creep under his skin. And yet, it still ends like this, a hole driven into his chest, just as it was meant to be. The pain is nothing new. The loss of everyone he’d ever cared about hurt far worse, but this… this is comforting. A release, a mercy. A promise that he will soon see his family, again.

The gentle wave that washes over him is short lived; the blow had sent him flying, his back pierced by a nearby rock. There’s pain, briefly, before it washes away all the same. Washes away into nothing. Death, he’s come to realize, feels like nothing, and yet everything all at once. Even death has a heart, it seems, a vague sense of clemency and calm that life lacks. All the memories of a time long past, all the regret and the pleasure that comes with living. Sweet memories, bitter memories… memories of his family, killed at the hands of a man who acts like a God dictating who should live and who should die. A God who slaughters innocents, under a false moral code. A God who locks away his own lover, as if her life means nothing; a God who looks at her the same way the stars admire the sun.

And yet, in Snake Oil’s last moments, that same God looks down at him the same way one would a fly before you kill it. The same insignificance, the same detachment. Like he meant never meant anything of value. And he realizes...

Death does not discriminate; life does.

Giorno gazes at the dying man with a look of vague disinterest, a sight he’s grown accustomed to. There’s no anger, no pity, no emotion. Those were stolen the moment your eyes snapped shut and your blood started rotting. Snake Oil will find no satisfaction in this squandered death, his life squelched out and amounting to nothing.

“Go to Hell. They’re waiting.”

The words fall from his lips so easily, so listlessly, without a shred of remorse. Snake Oil’s last moments are far from peaceful, those precious moments prior having lulled him into a false sense of security. They? Who are they? The Devil? His enemies? Or….

Realization hits. His blood has started to clot, and yet it boils with anger with indignant realization: he will go to Hell for his sins. He will go to Hell, and his family won’t be there. A sinner has no right of choice, only a punishment and its executioner. Even in these last moments, he’d hoped Giovanna would grant him the mercy of solace, the sympathy of a human rather than the malevolence of a monster. But that hope was misplaced from the start.

“Y...y-you’re a…. dem—”

But it’s too late. Snake Oil worked with diligence, but the devil works faster.

The storm has passed. The corpse, in its final moments, is gagging on thin air and it occurs to Giorno that its user is dying. Gagging on his own bile and vomit someplace far off, someplace Giorno can’t reach in his current state. If your life wasn’t in immediate danger, he’d hunt for the bastard himself, ensuring that his life has come to a permanent end. But you are more important. You will always be more important.

When he turns, he expects the worst. He expects to see your skin sallowed and your face sunken. He expects to see a lifeless husk, a goddess without the glow he’s come to admire. But that light is still there. You are still there, just as radiant as you were before your Eden was corrupted. The rise and fall of your chest is unmistakable, no matter how shallow your breathing may be. You’re alive. You’re alive, and Giorno’s legs nearly give out at the thought. Seeing you this close again, even as you cling to life, feels too good to be true. Giorno’s not sure who to thank, be it fate or having the devil’s own luck, but you’re still here. Still with him. This was too close to the chest. Pesky little details will be examined later, to ensure nothing like this ever has the chance to repeat. Security being tightened, loose ends removed… there’s an abundance of work to be done. For now, he allows himself to think only of you.

He’s by your side in an instant, checking your pulse and breathing. Gold Experience takes note of the movement beneath your wrist, pulsing as it should be, yet rapidly dimming. Any flesh wounds he can spot are immediately healed with a featherlight touch, fearing the unattended wounds may harm you further. He holds your limp body to his chest, gently trying to shake you back into consciousness. To bring you back to him.

“Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours, amore.” His voice is so quiet and weak, it’s drowned out by the ocean waves. “I’ll be here as long as you need me. We need to finish our date, right? There’s still so much we have to do. I’ll clear my schedule, so just open your eyes and...��

He chokes, eyes wide with bitter tears. Your color is paling at an alarming pace, lips becoming a sickly blue. The flower he made earlier now looks out of place against your skin, its vibrant yellow petals so vivid in comparison — mocking you. Giorno chokes on his own spit; there’s no escaping it: you are dying, and he may as well be too. Giorno’s grip on you falters due to his own trembling, forcing him to steady you entirely against his chest. Every breath he takes is laboured, the weight of the world dragging him down. He’s seen this sight too many times before, and in his heart, he knows what this means. Without full knowledge of Snake Oil’s ability, there’s no way to treat whatever wounds were inflicted on you; he can only grasp at ideas from the previous encounter. It’d take hours to find and deliver the proper antivenom, and by then, it’d be too late. He knows this, and he hates himself for it. He hates his knowledge, his experience that allows him to come to this horrific conclusion. Giorno wishes he were a fool so he could delude himself into believing you’ll continue to live with him.

“You said you wanted a frog for a pet, didn’t you…? I’ll make as many as your heart desires, I swear it. So, please…” The words die at the back of his clenching throat. His entire life, he’s told himself that crying is useless. That it achieves nothing, a waste of time and effort. Action is always the best course, the only path that amounts to overcoming grief. It’s been the philosophy of his life, and yet; he kneels here on the verge of tears all the same. “Please, please, please…”

Another shake, more urgent than the last.

“I wanted—” he gulps back a telling lump forming in his throat, “I wanted to do so much with you. Cooking together is just the start, there’s so much more...” His voice is a low whine, like a child begging his parents for their time and affection. It’s a battle against time, a battle that he’s losing. “So much more…” His words are incomprehensible at this point, slipping from his mouth before he can gather himself. “I love you, [First]… I love you, I love you. Please, God…” The words are unschooled, said without thought — genuine. There has never been a moment in his life where he believed God to be real, not after everything he’s seen, not after everyone he’s lost. You can’t be another causality — he can't lose you too.

For the first time since he was a child, Giorno cries.

He cries for everything he put you through, for everything he took from you. Every wish you had, every dream he never got to hear. He stole them like his family stole his own. He promised to be better, a better man — someone who could change the world, someone with a good heart. Growing up, he wanted nothing more than to prove his parents wrong. His step-father, cynical and drunk and good-for-nothing. His mother, neglectful, always chasing a high, as if her own family was the lowest of the low. And his real father, his origins and identity unknown; a man who no doubt would not want to be part of Giorno’s life, his own son’s life. Giorno didn’t want to be like any of them, didn’t want to grow up to become a monster in the shape of a human. That sentiment feels hypocritical right now, having just lost his composure and temper. The remnants of a man’s own soul is not too far off, mangled and destroyed beyond recognition, its user dead on the shores of a monster who stole his family.

Giorno Giovanna is not a good man. His tears are more for you than anyone else; you truly did have the misfortune of meeting him. The Devil could drag him to Hell right now and his last thoughts would still be: “Let her go to Heaven.”

There’s a gradual change.

To the untrained eye, it might be too subtle to pick up on. Almost like a transparent sheen hovering just above your skin, a low hum of energy resonating alongside it. Giorno’s lip twitches as your complexion practically shines, eyes squinting to combat the light's growing strength. Too much is unfolding before him, a complex mystery where he remains in the dark. Snake Oil… he’s certain that Stand is no more. That’s when a chilling realization hits, like a bucket of ice being poured over him.

Gold Experience Requiem remains by his side, the Stand at the ready to attack as Giorno constructs a plan. Could Snake Oil have had a Stand that stays active upon death, like Notorious B.I.G? Giorno freezes at the thought, knowing full well the power a Stand like that would have. Hunting down its target for eternity. Did Snake Oil place an ability on you that triggered after death? In that case, precautions need to be taken to ensure you’re not placed under any further harm. There’s still a chance to save you; even Notorious B.I.G. had its flaws, no matter how terrifyingly powerful the Stand at first seemed.

But… something about it is off. The energy convulsing from you feels different, almost familiar. Warm and enveloping, unlike Snake Oil who conveyed nothing but bitterness and lost hope. What is this…?

The luxury of thinking is replaced by a raw desire to act, to salvage what little remains, not willing to patiently assess the situation any longer. Not after that’s what led to your possible death sentence in the first place. Divine light radiates around your limp body, and Giorno reaches out, prepared to fend off the perceived threat. His trembling hand inches closer to your iridescent skin, tingling at the sensation rolling from your person like a barrier, and then—

He’s flung back against the ground, as Snake Oil was before him. Gold Experience Requiem releases a fierce battle cry, lashing towards the presumed threat that envelopes you. Your person lets out a disgruntled noise at the attack, eyebrows twitching and body regaining itself. Cheeks flushing with color again, long eyelashes fluttering against your face. Rest is a coaxing concept, though something deep inside you commands that you wake.

Your eyes open.

Blood. Your vision is filled with a thick red, the beautiful blues and golds of the beach but a distant memory. The scene before you is a battlefield, its only remnants thick puddles of fresh blood. The liquid mars the beautiful beach sands, crimson revealing a story you weren’t meant to witness. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, dulling various areas that should be screaming out in pain. There’s too much to chew on, your thoughts in complete disarray. Your body feels prickly, vitality making a swift reappearance. And yet, there’s an unfamiliar pain at your chest, where Gold Experience Requiem’s hit landed. It’s dull, as if there is a layer of protection between your skin and the place the Stand’s fist had landed, but the very thought of Giorno hurting you, no matter the circumstance, has your mind reeling.

It doesn’t take long to piece together scattered pieces of the puzzle. In your delirium, you’d heard everything. It evokes disgust and shame, knowing you willingly went along with Giorno’s qualms. You had lost yourself, giving into him for frivolous comforts. He’s harmed too many, you’re not the only person to be on the receiving end of endless pain; you were just lucky enough to be on his good side. Morality and running a worldwide crime syndicate do not go hand and hand, no matter how many times Giorno tries to humanize himself to you. It’s all a facade.

This was all a mistake. You shouldn’t have come here, not so willingly, not with him.

“You’re a monster.”

A fact you’ve known for months now, and yet the words struggle past your teeth. A week ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say that and much worse to his face, relishing in the hurt that would momentarily cross his features. You had some semblance of power over him during those moments, using his twisted sense of love against him. You felt powerful, in control for once, having one of the most powerful men in the world grovel in wait for your affection. Before you, he wasn’t Don Giorno Giovanna, boss of Passione. He was just a boy, a psychopath, a man who had taken the world from you and expected your love in return.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last. He will always have the upper hand, some sort of control or advantage over you. You were a fool to think whatever you two possibly had — a relationship, if you could call it that — could work. Humans aren’t meant to be with monsters, and monsters aren’t meant to fall in love.

You realize that now.

“[First]...” For once, he’s speechless. Even saying that much is difficult. Gradually, he stands from the spot he’d been flung to, wearily making his way toward your crumpled body. His hand reaches out, shaking; were you slipping in and out of consciousness the entire time…? How much did you overhear? How much did you see?

“Don’t come closer!” You blink back tears, your vision focusing and unfocusing in the midst of it all. Your fingers, your hands, your… your body is glowing. The light is faint, weak, like the remnants of a flame before its wick gives out. “I-I… W-what happened? What happened to me?”

The puzzle pieces fall into place in his head. Giorno draws a sharp breath, his thoughts reeling to provide an explanation that won’t frighten you any further. In this state, you’re running on a high, coming down from the power your body has just awakened to. Having just defended yourself against a deadly venom, your body is running on pure adrenaline just to keep yourself upright. Your mind is reeling to rationalize what’s happening. Every nerve in your body felt like they were on fire, burning you up from the inside out. It’s as if you’re being overclocked, forced to work at full capacity, threatening to crash at any moment. Power rolls off your body in waves, as if it was meant to be there, as if it was there all along. And there’s an energy in your veins that feels wholly foreign, simultaneously yours and someone else’s at the same time. The ringing in your head is disorienting beyond compare; it feels as if your mind has been invaded, as if there is something else, someone else in your consciousness.

“What did you do?!” You don’t want to look at him, not in this moment, but the situation leaves you no choice. Your eyes flicker, briefly glowing with unadulterated rage when your gaze meets his. It couldn’t be possible, he couldn’t have… “You… you made me a monster just like you.”

“[First], I can explain everything, but you need to rest or—”

“No. God, I’m such a fool.” Your gut wrenches when you accidentally turn your gaze upon the battered corpse, its body mangled and face unrecognizable. Its heart hangs from its chest; you shudder to think what his human counterpart looks like. His death must have been painful, agonizingly slow — an end befitting a monster more so than a human. And he… he’s surrounded by a sea of blood — your husband is surrounded by a sea of blood.

“How could I forget? W-what you are…” Your eyes are fully glowing, pulsating with a holy energy when they meet his, but the sight is far from terrifying. You’re trembling. You’re crying. You’re pleading with him, just as you had when you first arrived on this island. You’re scared. “W-Will you do the same to me?”

His heart shatters.

Even now, as broken as you may feel, you cannot let yourself fall apart. If you break now, you won’t escape. He won’t let you escape. It will just be worse this time. You’ll always know the truth, the fact that countless lives have bloodied his hands — that he killed in cold blood then looked at you like your life is the only one worth keeping.

“You’ve already taken everything from me. You took my family from me. My friends. My life. My future. How am I any different from them? From any of the people you’ve hurt?” His expression wavers at your endless accusations, but he doesn’t defend himself and you take that as a confession to his sins. “That man was right. Do you remember all of them? All of your victims? All their faces? Their dreams and ambitions?” Air catches in your throat, realizing something the enemy had divulged; your family. They’d been… they’d been lied to, and that revelation does nothing to quell your anger.“What about their families? Are they still looking for them, too?” Your voice cracks, coinciding with your crumbling heart.

That’s right, your family looked for you. They searched for you; they mourned, they were betrayed. They think you’re dead, that you left without saying goodbye — without saying “I love you”. And you were deluded into thinking that everything was going so well, that you could forget, that you could start anew. You were happy, for once, for the first time in what felt like years. As close as you could get to happiness. Finally having set out on a path of healing, recovering pieces of yourself and putting them back together where no one else could. This illusion you allowed yourself to believe dissipates, the fog over your eyes lifting to reveal barren reality. A reality Giorno himself designed and held full control over, like a God, and you his sole obsession. If he is a God, he is cruel. To think otherwise is to be seduced by the enemy.

“You lied to me. You said I was safe here, that I could trust you.” Your voice breaks at that word — trust. What a pretty word, for such awful lies. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

Giorno gathers his senses, his head ringing with your hurtful words, his heart tired. He is losing you all over again; this is the only thing he can defend, as all your other accusations are more or less true. “[First], I had to. He was going to—”

“No. There’s never a good reason to murder, not when you have the power to stop them instead.” Your eyes flicker to Gold Experience Requiem, knowing full well of its powers. Giorno holds his tongue, realizing you’re right. He didn’t have to kill the enemy, not… not in front of you at least. Your eyes are not meant to see bloodshed or pain, and yet, he let his feelings get the better of him — and this is his price. “You didn’t have to, but you did. You killed him, Giorno. You killed him.” You can’t bring yourself to look at the corpse any longer. “That’s what monsters do.”

Each word stings more than the last.

He’s analyzing you. Mentally reciting and testing dozens of different explanations that might serve to placate you, even if it’s a temporary fix. Anything to get that stinging look of repulsion off your beautiful face, anything to make you look at him the way you did earlier. This is far more detrimental than the times you spoke down to him before now that a third party had been involved. The damage is already done, nature of himself that he tried to hide from you now out in the open.

There may be no coming back from this.

“You’ve been through a lot.” Giorno takes one step closer to you, stomach dropping when you flinch at the tentative action. All the progress has been undone, though he can’t mourn that now. He has to keep a straight face, lull you down this high filled with fear and adrenaline. Get under your skin again… make you trust him. “Come, let’s go inside. You must feel tired.”

“No. No, no, no, you liar. You’ve put me through a lot,” you correct with a weak glare, holding your hand to your chest. The same hand that had finally come to accept him just minutes prior. Recalling his touch makes you want to scrub the skin raw, knowing how bloodied they were. “Just… stay away from me, p-please.” Your demands sound more like pleads, the shock of your new abilities still paralyzing your system. Your wings encircle you still, their transparent silhouette coursing with a power you know not what to do with. Their presence alone makes you feel safe, a much needed barrier between you and him. It even withstood a direct attack from Giorno’s own Stand…

The possibility of escaping is becoming frighteningly real.

Giorno withdraws his outstretched hand, not wanting to scare you any further. It’s clear you don’t want to listen to him right now, and he’s not sure he wants to continue persuading you; the trembling of your body, the look on your face, like a frightened doe — you’re scared of him. The same girl that had looked at him with hesitant admiration, that had played with him, that had gotten to know him, that had kissed him — she’s gone, and some deep, hateful part of him knows she won’t ever come back. He’s walking on eggshells again and he knows it. In the terrified state that you’re in, there won’t be any deescalation. You’ve seen too much, know too much. It’s troublesome, too many factors at play to safely talk this out. There’s still the problem of your safety, and monitoring your body for any further repercussions from the earlier Stand attack. Giorno considers all of this, and with a silent sigh, makes a swift decision on how to best fix this. More roadblocks are set in the path of recovery, but he’s determined to see this through. That’s how he’s always been, and how he’ll always be until the day he draws his final breath. You are no exception; you never will be. Not when everything he does is wholly for you.

You realize something is amiss when he doesn’t respond any further to your pointed accusations. Normally, you’d see a flicker of hurt flit across his features — the only time he ever lets his guard down, even slightly, is with you. That’s not the case now, not after everything you’ve heard, everything you’ve seen. Lips parting, you’re about to inquire what it is he’s plotting, but by then it’s far too late. From the blood by your feet, roots start to form at the base, coming to life by Gold Experience Requiem’s ability. An unidentifiable substance leaks from them, sapping away at the remnants of your consciousness like parasites. It acts as a salve, soothing the snake bite on your neck and the skin covering your blackened veins, but its true purpose is far from that, meant to constrain you, to confine you. It’s a terrifying sight, being restrained by vines tainted in the blood of a dead man, being restrained by an entity that had made you gifts and brought you joy only minutes prior.

He’s using his ability on you.

Gold Experience Requiem, an entity that had excitedly made you a crown to place atop your head, looks almost distraught as he covers you from head to toe, confines you like his user has for as long as you can remember. They are one and the same, you realize; how foolish it was to believe this man was capable of anything but tragedy. You had been charmed by pretty lies fashioned to ensnare you for eternity. His words, his actions, everything about him was a lie — a forbidden fruit.

Standing becomes too arduous a task, your body crumpling to the ground in a pathetic show of weakness. The world around you grows blurry, your eyelids fighting to remain open only to lose and sink into the sweet call of sleep. Everything feels so far away. The call of the birds, the crashing of the ocean… even the sand that rubs against your skin doesn’t register. The only thing that does is the look on his face, so unlike the monstrous, dissociated expression he had when he took a man’s life before your eyes. Even that, all the pain, dread, betrayal, it’s all slipping away, to some place you cannot reach. Not anymore. The light that stems from your back flickers, the remnants of your holy wings shattering like fragments of glass. Giorno approaches you as the disorientation continues and your Stand deactivates, having protected you long enough. He wants nothing more than to take its place as your savior, your protector, his arms reaching out to catch and prevent your body from further harm. You’ve been through enough. You were right; he’s put you through enough.

As consciousness fades, you hear the Devil whisper one final promise.

“I’ll fix everything, just give me time.”

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rjzimmerman · 3 years

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NOAA data shows rising methane concentrations in the atmosphere, and the drastic cuts needed starting in the 2020s if there’s any hope of limiting warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius. UN Global Methane Assessment, 2021

Excerpt from this story from Vox:

Even though methane is not nearly as well understood as carbon, it’s playing an enormous role in the climate crisis. It’s at least 80 times as effective at trapping heat than carbon in a 20-year period, but starts to dissipate in the atmosphere in a matter of years. If this is the “decisive decade” to take action, as the Biden administration has said, then a methane strategy has to be at the center of any policy for tackling global warming.

Methane could mean the difference between a rapidly warming planet changing too quickly and drastically for humanity to handle, and buying the planet some much-needed time to get a handle on the longer-term problem of fossil fuels and carbon pollution.

Shindell, one of the scientists who raised an early alarm about methane, was studying air pollution in the late 2000s when he found a strange trend. Ground-level ozone, the pollutant that forms hazy smog, was rising in the US — which surprised him after decades of progress under the Clean Air Act. He realized the “relentless growth in methane,” which accelerates the formation of ozone near the ground, was to blame. Ever since, he’s been trying to warn the world not to overlook this dangerous pollutant and its costs to both the climate and human health.

Identifying the millions of sources of methane around the globe isn’t so simple. Cattle release methane, and so does decomposing organic material. All the food waste that goes into landfills release methane. And natural gas is almost entirely methane.

If you’ve heard politicians call natural gas a “bridge fuel,” what they mean is that natural gas emits less carbon dioxide than coal. It’s wrong to call it clean, because burning methane still releases carbon — and methane that escapes without burning is a powerful warmer.

Scientists like Duren have also produced vivid images of methane that a layperson can understand, just like the imagery below from April this year.

According to Duren, Carbon Mapper has detected over 3,000 methane plumes in the Permian Basin with its airborne surveys, all coming from a range of oil and gas infrastructure, including wells, tank batteries, compressor stations, pipelines, and more. Together, these findings suggest a grim outlook for the minimal progress made so far in tackling carbon pollution: Rising methane pollution effectively erases some of the progress the US has made by cleaning up the coal-fired power sector.

youtube

#methane #greenhouse gas emissions

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punkrock-writer · 3 years

Text

Space Cowboy- part 4

Roasting the Shit Out of Toro Because He Deserves It

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC

Warnings- Mentions blood, fighting, swearing, Canon Typical Violence. Spoilers for The Mandalorian

A/N- WOAH It is here. 5.3k words. The longest chapter so far. Let me know what you guys think, is it still too short or too long, lemme know. And yeah, the end IS cheesy. I am the Mayor of Cheeseville it should be expected.

And a reminder Din is de-aged a bit, he's around mid to late 20′s here, just for a little more ~spice~

Let me know what you think! I love hearing from ya’ll it helps me a lot :D

Masterlist AO3

She honestly didn't know how he was so quiet. That collection of Ironman armor should make much more noise than it does. Or he could have at least woken her up before screaming.

"HEY" Sedona jumped violently. Her eyes springing open in panic, he wasn't in the ship, but his voice echoed throughout it. She heard the panicked voice of Peli yelling outside. She scooted further into the middle of the hull to peer out of the open door. Din looked as intimidating as he could, shoulders raised and feet wide. Peli marched from her office up to him, cradling a wailing Grogu.

"Give him to me" she wanted to laugh. The paternal instincts kicked in so fast, albeit a bit misplaced and underdeveloped. But he tried his best.

"Not so fast! You can't just leave a child all alone like that." Peli cried out, though not entirely alone, she was right. "You know, you have an awful lot to learn about raisin' a young one."

And then much to Sedona's discomfort, Peli's eyes met hers.

"AND leaving an injured lady! No water or bandages, that isn't very kind. Prisoner or not." She scowled up at the towering Mandalorian, whose head slowly turned to meet hers. She quickly scooted herself back against the crate. She wasn't ready for that kind of attention, she needed to get her thoughts in order.

"Anyway-" she racked her brain as she heard Peli continue to talk about the ship. She had gotten this far in the episode, and Din had obviously made the deal with... that motherfucker whom she cannot remember the name of. She was so focused on trying to remember she didn't even notice Din had walked back onto the ship.

"I thought I told you not to talk to anyone." His voice made her jump once again, it was rough, a warning. Her wide eyes met his visor, and suddenly the right words met her tongue.

"Don't leave him alone with the bounty" they were rushed, she probably looked crazier than Peli's wild curls. "Y-you can't trust him, something bad is going to happen."

She watched as he turned with a bag in his hand. He looked like he was going to speak, or step closer to her, his body seizing up. Instead, his gloved hand curled into a fist at his side, and he spun quickly on his heel and exited her line of sight. She heard the pair talk a bit more, mostly Peli talking at Din's retreating back. Then she was alone again. And her ass hurts.

Standing up was much easier now that the magic space goo had somehow healed her knees. Though she had extreme doubts, she sincerely hoped Din might heed her warning. She really did not wan't to be caught in the crossfire of their shoot out that was soon to come. Maybe that was the worst part about being plunked into this universe. The constant dread of knowing what's going to happen, and having no power to change it, was going to destroy her. She could already feel the way her body sagged with exhaustion. The ever-present headache was taking a toll on her mind, and her fight or flight response was kicked into high gear. She hadn't felt like this in years.

Trying to keep her mind from straying too far into the darkness. She decided to do some light exploration of the Razor Crest. She wouldn't touch anything, as Din so kindly instructed. But she was definitely going to touch all over with her eyes. First, she was going to figure out if that man had a shower. She turned opposite the open door and headed in the direction of what looked like an airplane toilet. She was pleased to find a small door stationed adjacent to the weird space toilet. Obviously hidden from view on the show, it was a rickety metal sheet. Actually, everything on the ship was a metal sheet, but she wasn't going to roast it too harshly. Opening it, the oval-shaped door created an edge that she had to step over to enter the small room. The floor and walls were tiled, and there was a small drain in the middle. A large ledge jutted out from the wall at about knee height, above it was what looked like a sink, and a small foggy mirror. Avoiding its reflection, she ventured back further. There was a curtain, pulling it back revealed a showerhead and a series of ledges cut into the wall. She tried to keep her heart from fluttering at the sight of soap bars, and a razor. Then heat began to creep up her spine, embarrassment making its way to her cheeks.

How fucking old are you 13? Get a hold of yourself.

She spun quickly not wanting to be caught snooping. She felt like a high school girl who had just seen her crush's room for the first time. She was 26 for fucks sake, and it was a bathroom.

On a space ship.

On an unknown planet.

In a universe that had once only existed in media form.

She wasn't able to wallow in her embarrassment much longer, through the open door she saw Peli return from wherever she had followed Din. She walked with determination, coming up to some kind of machine that was attached to the ship. Sedona didn't really know what to do, she stood awkwardly in the hull of the ship. Listening to Peli mutter to herself, she hated feeling like this. She liked to be moving or at least distracting her brain in some way. Now there was only the unfamiliar ship, her bags were already organized neatly- and then it hit her.

She still had her phone in her purse.

Springing into action she darted for her bag, rummaging through it until she finally found it. It was an iPhone and she still had her headphones attached to it. Her heart soared in her body, unable to contain her smile at the sight, relieved to find at least this thing hadn't magically transformed into a space object. But clicking it on she was met with slight disappointment. Only 32% charged, and the fact that her phone was wicked old and functioned at about 60% of its normal battery life, it would be dying soon. There are no outlets in space. She thought angrily. So she sighed and set it back into her purse, deciding to save it for when she truly needed a mental escape. For now, she could maybe go and see what Peli was up to.

And that's how she spent her first evening in space. She sat at the table, watching Peli fix the Crest. Or making sure the child didn't eat sand or some shit. Peli didn't talk much while she worked, which she was secretly grateful for. Only asking occasional questions, or pausing to complain about the old ship. Sedona didn't offer much, vague answers, allowing the older woman to speak more than herself. She really didn't feel like having to convince someone else she's from an alternate universe. Especially someone who was very much capable of throwing her into the endless Tatooine desert.

In time it grew darker in the hangar. Peli wiped her hands off on her jumpsuit, leaving grease marks in her wake. Sedona held a sleeping Grogu in her arms, he had been quite a hassle for her to wrangle with her hands still cuffed together. He was quick, and incredibly sneaky when he wanted to be. He currently held some kind of bolt in his little clawed hands, one of the braver droids had given it to him when he was fussing in her lap.

"How about another round of some bone broth, and then we get some rest." She snapped her fingers at a droid, who scurried off to the back of the hangar quickly. "It looks like that little stinker has the right idea." Peli sat, the smell of oil and metal rolling off her. She grabbed the cup of water she had sipping out of periodically and drank. Then she turned to Sedona, who up until this moment had been zoned out, staring at the shadows cast on the ground.

"You look like you've seen some shit." Sedona's heart nearly stopped at that, but when she met Peli's eyes they glittered with amusement in the dim light of the hangar.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," she said with a laugh and a shrug. Then a droid appeared next to her, carrying more bowls of broth. She accepted it, thanking the droid once again. The liquid warmed her, she didn't consider how cold a desert got a night, and her shorts and men's t-shirt didn't exactly hold much warmth. But the broth helped, and she tried not to let Peli notice her shivers.

"Listen, I wanted to ask you something" Sedona almost choked on her broth. "I heard what you said to the Mandalorian, why do you think he can't trust that other bounty hunter?" Peli's gaze was quizzical, genuine curiosity, not suspicion. It gave Sedona confidence, but not enough to tell her the full truth.

"I guess I just have a really bad feeling, I think there's something off about the deal." She said after swallowing, and Peli was silent for a moment. Searching her gaze before suddenly leaning forward.

"You know I was thinking the exact same thing." She said it like it was the juiciest secret in school. "There was just something off in his eyes." She finished with a nod. Sedona couldn't stop her smile. She felt the beginnings of a friendship blossoming there in the cool evening. She hoped it wouldn't be ripped away from her too soon.

They finished their broth in comfortable silence. Then Peli rose, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Well, I'm going to take this little womprat to the back with me, if you need anything just holler," she said, reaching down to scoop the sleeping bundle from her lap. "You sure you'll be all right in that ship by yourself?"

"I'll be okay," she said with a smile, trying to look convincing "but Peli, if you see anything happening, take the child and run."

Her face turned serious, and she gave a curt nod.

"I'll make sure the droids stay awake, they'll give us a good warning" and with another nod, and a pointed look at the group of droids, she turned to the back of the hangar.

Sedona was alone again, and fear was beginning to crawl up her spine. She had to prepare herself. Somehow, she wasn't going to let that fucker touch baby Grogu.

~o~o~o~

Night came and went, Sedona spent it pacing. Somehow, that sneaky tin can had taken her taser, and her Swiss army knife. Leaving her with only pepper spray from her keychain to defend herself. She held it tightly in 2 hands, having finally sat down when she saw the hangar becoming light again. She heard Peli out in the open area, talking to the droids and the child.

"Here's a ration bar, I'm going to try to finish these repairs before the Mandalorian gets back." Peli had walked into the ship quietly, giving her the foil-wrapped bar, the child gurgling on her hip. The tension was thick between them, both women could sense something wrong. But if Peli wanted to say anything more she didn't, instead turning her attention to the ship, the child held tightly to her. Sedona honestly didn't feel like eating, her head was pounding again. The effort of trying to figure out the plot was scrambling her brain.

She didn't know how exactly to define it, but it felt like the memories of the show were drifting away from her. Scenes she had remembered and re-watched multiple times now were faint memories. It felt like she was losing her mind, literally the only information she needed right now was dissolving like snow in her fingers. So she settled for clutching her pepper spray and hoping the droids gave her a good warning like Peli said.

The droids held up their end well.

It was maybe 3 or 4 hours later, Peli had miraculously just taken Grogu to the back for some food and a nap. When suddenly the droids went absolutely batshit crazy.

Sedona sprung from her spot on the floor, her headache was instantly forgotten as she squeezed herself against an indent in the wall of the ship. Hoping to spring on the hunter. She heard his blaster fire, then it was eerily quiet.

God, I hope they can get out of here.

Sedona tried to keep her mind from straying from the task at hand. She tried to keep her breathing quiet, straining her ears for any sounds.

Those shitty self-defense classes are going to have to work today.

There were footsteps on the ramp. Slow, but heavy, he really was a pretty shitty bounty hunter. She switched the safety off on her pepper spray, trying to judge where he was on the ship by the sound of his footsteps. Then the barrel of a gun crept into her line of sight, and she didn't hesitate.

Springing from her hiding spot she sprayed upwards, toward what she hoped were his eyes. Based on the shouting she was successful. She did her best to ignore the burn in her own eyes as the fumes carried toward her. Taking his surprise as an advantage she attempted to kick him in the balls.

Keyword- attempted.

Sedona did not consider the fact, that he might be wearing goggles. And that he might catch her leg. With a shove, she was sent sprawling onto the floor, with no way to catch herself. Her butt hit the ground hard, knocking the breath out of her. She looked up to meet a gut-churning smile.

What a fucking dick.

"That tasted awful, but I don't think it did what you wanted it to." He said with a smug smirk, he was so incredibly proud of himself. "Look at this! A third bounty, I'm going to be the king of the Guild!"

Well, if Sedona couldn't beat him physically. She was going to try to demolish his ego.

"Fuck you, Toro, this is why your mom doesn't FUCKING love you" the words were filled with rage as they flew out of her mouth, she lunged toward him. Her mind suddenly supplying the correct name when she needed it most. His face immediately fell, twisting into shock and confusion.

"What do you know about my mother?" he sneered, taking a few steps forward to tower over her on the ground. But his intimidating stance did nothing to stop the pure hatred Sedona felt in her heart.

"You look like you watch Big Bang Theory on purpose." It was one of her more creative insults, her new goal was distraction. Try and confuse him as much as she could, so that hopefully Peli could escape with the child. It seemed to work so far.

"I don't know what that means, but I would shut the hell up if I were you" he leaned down and sneered at her. She grit her teeth, the insults flowing fast.

"Your earring looks like shit"

"I said shut up!" He raised his blaster to her head, a position she had just recently became familiar with. She met his eyes, and with as much bitterness as she could muster, she put the nail in her coffin.

"I know how you die, and you die like a bitch."

That was the last thing she could say. Toro reacted very poorly, to say the least.

And for the first time in her life, Sedona was pistol-whipped across the head. Toro stalked away from her body that laid slumped on the ship floor. Continuing on his original journey, much more confused and irritated.

~o~o~o~

The Mandalorian could not shake the sick feeling in his gut as he tied the dewback to the hitch outside of Hangar 3-5. One look at the speeder outside had the mysterious woman's words repeating in his head.

You can't trust him, something bad is going to happen.

It really didn't help that she was right. In fact, he hated that she was right. It was making his decision on what to do with her much harder. He unclipped his blaster, drawing it ahead of him as he made his way down the stairs. The hangar was quiet, aside from the annoying droid that startled him. He slowly made his way through the sand toward his ship.

"Took you long enough Mando" there he was. He stalked forward raising his blaster up into the dark ship. Calican emerged; somehow he got angrier at the sight of the child in his arm, and the scared woman who had been kind to him caught in this mess. "Looks like I'm calling the shots now. Huh, partner?"

Din wanted to roll his eyes and shoot him right then.

"Drop your blaster and raise 'em." This time he couldn't stop the eye roll, instead having to suppress an annoyed sigh as he carelessly flung his blaster to the ground. Twisting his body in a way that let him quickly grab a flash charge. He truly was a pretty shitty bounty hunter, this would be his final mistake. Din was irritated, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Calican handed it to him on a silver platter.

"Cuff him." After that, Din really didn't give a shit about what this guy said. Instead watching as the woman approached him with the bindings. He rolled the flash charge in-between his fingers. Waiting.

"You're smarter than you look" the woman whispered in his ear. Obviously not, if only he had listened to the woman she left in his ship. He wouldn't be in this mess.

The right moment came as Calican raised his blaster higher. The flash brightening the entire hangar for just long enough, Din slipped behind some of the junk lying around. Coming around the side before Calican even knew he had disappeared. It was over quickly, his body tumbled off the ramp, taking the child with it.

"Stay back." He tried to tell the woman, who scrambled quickly over to him as he went to inspect the body. He didn't like the way she fumbled around him, grabbing his cape as he tried to make sure the man was actually dead. Then he heard the babbles of the child. He didn't really register what she was saying to him, just thankful she was calming him down. Inspecting the body he found what he was looking for, the bag of credits was heavy in his hand.

Turning to the woman holding the child, he prepared to pay and leave.

"Be careful with him." She said, the child simply snorting as he was placed back in his arms. She then tried to break some of the tension, bringing up the question that Din knew she would ask. "So I take it you didn't get paid."

Din didn't really feel the need to say anything. Instead pouring the contents of the pouch into her outstretched hands. But he decided to make sure.

"That cover me?" The woman sputtered in response, giving a shocked form of Yes. Din then turned, making his way back to his ship, babbling baby in tow. Until he was stopped.

"Listen, I don't know what you plan on doing with that girl, but she fought to distract him. She tried to make sure I could get away with the baby." Din turned back to the woman, his curiosity peaking. "She told him she knew how he died, and something tells me she did. Sh-she was very nice and helpful. I think you should give her a chance."

Din thought about it for a moment. It seems she was truthful about yet another thing she said to him.

"I would protect the child with my life."

Internally he was glad it hadn't come to that, or so the woman who stared up at him made it seem. He nodded at her, hoping he conveyed his understanding and turned back to enter his darkened ship. He heard her yelling at her droids, but he was more concerned with finding out what state his ship was in. As the ramp closed, he flipped back on the lights. With a heavy sigh, he observed the way her body was crumpled on the floor once again.

There was a large, bloodied scrape on her temple, the area already beginning to bruise. The child was struggling in his arms again, letting out indignant cries as he reached for the girl on the floor. He set him down next to her and reached to grab her under the shoulders and knees. Deciding to move her much gentler than he had the first time. He didn't really know where to put her though; he spun in his ship, her body limp in his arms, the child followed him in circles crying out in frustration.

His eyes landed on his sleeping compartment, figuring that was better than nothing. He quickly set her into it. Taking a moment to remove the cuffs still on her wrists, he internally cringed at the redness. Another thing he should apologize for. He didn't feel comfortable sitting in the hangar for much longer. He scooped up the child, who was trying in vain to climb into the compartment with her.

"Come on we have to get outta here" he grumbled to the child, who was squirming in his arm. He paused to look up at him, angrily babbling at him before resorting to pouting as he was hauled into the cockpit. Din started the ship quickly, not entirely certain where he was going. He only knew he needed to sit down with the woman in the hull, and really figure out what the hell she was talking about.

~o~o~o~

Sedona really didn't want to wake up. In her dream, she was warm and comfortable, and definitely not about to get crazy-murdered by a space villain. Whatever she was laying on was slightly squishier than the floor, but only slightly. It felt like if you were to lay a thin yoga mat onto a wood floor and then tried to take a nap on it. But she kept her eyes closed, trying to stay in her comfortable bubble just a few moments longer. Whoever was shaking her leg did not get the message.

"Please, just let me pretend this isn't happening for a little while longer" she grumbled, not yet opening her eyes. She tried to imagine her bed again, her soft blankets, and a cup of her favorite tea. She could pretend her head didn't hurt, and her body didn't hurt, and her brain didn't hurt. She could pretend she didn't have to open her eyes and face more confusion and struggle.

"Please, I'd like to talk." A soft modulated voice was not what she expected. She slowly opened her eyes, taking in the metal ceiling above her. With a deep breath, she slowly sat up, taking in the sight before her. At some point, after she had been knocked out, she had been placed in Din's sleeping compartment. At the end of the 'bed' (she didn't really want to call it a bed this was awful) stood the Mandalorian himself, and Grogu was vigorously shaking her leg with 2 hands. He babbled excitedly when she sat up, looking up at her and giving a wide smile. "How is your head?"

The new gentle tone was mind-boggling. She could only stare at him, mouth open like a fish. Her head was bad actually, feeling very bad. She just got smacked across the head with a gun, she couldn't imagine how she looked. But the sudden shift in mood was what confused her most; there was a stumbling, awkward, sort of kindness in the way he stood and spoke to her. She searched the visor a bit more, not really sure what she was looking for. A particularly loud coo broke her from her distraction.

"It... could be better I suppose." She licked her lips, mind suddenly wandering in fear. "Where are we? Are we stopped?" The Mandalorian couldn't afford to just stop, so they had to be in hyperspace or he wouldn't be down here. Why was he down here exactly? When did the cuffs come off?

"Yes, we're still on Tatooine, I— I wanted to talk to you," he cleared his throat. "I had some things to say, and to ask." He turned and walked further into the ship, she just now noticed the door was open. Showing the dark Tatooine desert.

Oh!

She was going to be dropped off here. Left to wander the space desert. It was a short run of things, but at least it was horrible while it lasted. She slowly got up, moving around the child to set her feet on the cold ground. The child babbled up at her, raising his arms, and for a brief moment, she considered picking him up. Her mind flirted with the idea of carrying him over to the metal man who leaned against the hatch door. Looking out to the rolling sands together, in peace. But instead, she grabbed her purse and prepared for the worst.

"So I guess this is it?" She paused next to Din, nervously looking up at him as she twirled her purse strap in her hands. His helmet snapped to her, quickly his body followed, straightening out to face her completely. He looked down at her for a long time, his body tense. Her body heated up under his gaze, feeling even more nervous under the scrutiny.

"Do you think I'm leaving you out here?" He tilted his head at her, it was almost condescending. If she was able to re-wind it and analyze the tone of his voice, she would've caught the amusement.

"Well I mean you did leave me handcuffed on the ship for like 3 days, and then brought the Crest out to the desert. Which you would never do if you weren't going to...leave me here" she rambled. Her eyes searched the area around them, not meeting his visor. He was silent once again, just watching her squirm under his gaze. She didn't know how to read him in real life, he was so much taller, and without the fan analysis she could skim through, a lot of his body language was lost.

"I was going to apologize..." he paused, his voice soft but gravely. Her mouth dropped open, slowly looking up to his helmet. "I'm sorry for leaving you cuffed in the ship, but you have to admit, you sounded pretty crazy."

The humor was detectable now, and after a long moment Sedona smiled, and as the words penetrated her brain a little deeper. A chuckle bubbled into her throat, and before she knew it she was laughing. It wasn't that funny honestly, but this was the first display of emotional release her body had experienced in a while, so it kind of went overboard. When she finally calmed down she was breathless, tears gathered in her eyes. Mando just looked at her, head tilted in confusion, and when he folded his arms over his chest, she knew he was irritated.

"I'm sorry... that wasn't that funny, but I think I need to cry and that's as close as I'm going to get." She wiped a tear from her eye, looking back at the still Mandalorian. She quickly dropped her face when she saw the way he was standing, straightened her shoulders. "W-what else did you want from me?" She should know better to think she was off the hook, he could still freeze her in carbonite. He would probably be able to get some sort of profit from her. The thought had her shrinking, she suddenly felt small again.

With a hefty sigh, he readjusted, facing back toward the endless desert. His trend of silence was much for daunting when it wasn't happening on a tv screen. Suddenly something grabbed her ankle. Of course, how could she forget the 3rd passenger? With an incredibly grumpy face and some mighty grump squeals, he reached his arms up to her as hard as he could. She smiled in pity at him, it didn't feel right to pick him up in front of Din. It wasn't her place, and she really didn't want to upset him when he was deciding his fate.

"You can pick him up." His voice was soft again, though he hadn't turned to look at them. "He seems to like you a lot" Her eyes glowed, and with free hands, she bent down and picked up the little one. Finally being able to hold him properly was wonderful, he was a comfortable weight in the crook of her arm. His little dish towel onesie soft on her skin, she smiled at him, and he cooed happily. Looking up she found Din had turned around, looking on with a tilted gaze.

"I want to know... do things work out well for him." It was almost a whisper, true concern laced in his modulated voice. She had to think about it for longer than she wanted. Yes, as far as she knew things went relatively well for the child, as for the man protecting him that was different.

"You have lots of adventures, but he makes it out okay." She gave him a small closed-mouth smile. Thinking further filled her with hope. "D-does... this mean you trust me?" She searched his visor, hoping she met his eyes.

"I..." He cut off, his head shaking. "I don't know for sure what to think, I know you're not a threat, but I can't...comprehend the things you've told me." He inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh. A gloved hand reached out to stroke the ear of the child. "But I can't shake the feeling that I need you with me, so I suppose you should stick around for a while."

As if he understood Grogu chirped happily up at you. His head turning back and forth between the two of you. Sedona's heart soared. She couldn't stop the smile that crept its way onto her cheeks. She felt like jumping, but she resorted to squeezing the little guy tighter to her chest.

"Thank you." It came out in a whisper, she hoped he could register her gratefulness through his helmet. Grogu gave a little cheer, reaching up one clawed hand to tap her cheek.

"Well...don't get too comfortable, I'll need your help." There was the familiar grumble. She dropped her smile quickly.

"You got it. I used to be a babysitter, I'll earn my keep." She gave a sharp nod, determination overtaking her face. But another tap to her cheek had her cracking a smile once again.

"Can you fight?" That question was a bit trickier to answer. While she had a knife and a taser, there was no formal training to back them.

"I... had to take a few self-defense classes, but I didn't have many options in my city." She answered with a shrug. "But I'm willing to learn." She said, determined. No, she wasn't a gifted fighter yet, but if that's how she would be able to survive here, then she was going to become the best damn fighter this galaxy had seen.

"Good." He said, seemingly satisfied, and gave her a nod before abruptly turning back to the ship. "Then I'll train you when we're able to stop, but for now, we keep going." With that he brushed past her, the hatch closing behind him. She watched as he made his way up the ladder, she heard the hiss of the cockpit doors opening. She looked down at the gremlin in her arms, and his big eyes looked back at her. A smile showing off his nubby teeth on his little face. With a shrug, she walked back over to the sleeping compartment.

Now as she looked over her belongings, 2 bags, and a fucking hotel towel. It didn't seem so bad.

She should really put on a bra now.

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theculturedmarxist · 3 years

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@expatiating

>Literally anyone who lived in a communist or socialist regime: it was terrible..... 16 year old white girl on tumblr: yeah but that wasn’t real communism :///

You mean anyone like this, you stupid fucking asshole?

Oppressive and grey? No, growing up under communism was the happiest time of my life

When people ask me what it was like growing up behind the Iron Curtain in Hungary in the Seventies and Eighties, most expect to hear tales of secret police, bread queues and other nasty manifestations of life in a one-party state.

They are invariably disappointed when I explain that the reality was quite different, and communist Hungary, far from being hell on earth, was in fact, rather a fun place to live.

The communists provided everyone with guaranteed employment, good education and free healthcare. Violent crime was virtually non-existent.

But perhaps the best thing of all was the overriding sense of camaraderie, a spirit lacking in my adopted Britain and, indeed, whenever I go back to Hungary today. People trusted one another, and what we had we shared.

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Learn from Cuba, Says World Bank

The island's economy, which suffered devastating losses in production after the Soviet Union withdrew its aid, especially its oil supplies, a decade ago, has yet to fully recover. Annual economic growth, fuelled in part by a growing tourism industry and limited foreign investment, has been halting and, for the most part, anaemic.

Moreover, its economic policies are generally anathema to the Bank. The government controls virtually the entire economy, permitting private entrepreneurs the tiniest of spaces. It heavily subsidises virtually all staples and commodities; its currency is not convertible to anything. It retains tight control over all foreign investment, and often changes the rules abruptly and for political reasons.

At the same time, however, its record of social achievement has not only been sustained; it's been enhanced, according to the WDI.

It has reduced its infant mortality rate from 11 per 1,000 births in 1990 to seven in 1999, which places it firmly in the ranks of the western industrialised nations. It now stands at six, according to Jo Ritzen, the Bank's Vice President for Development Policy who visited Cuba privately several months ago to see for himself.

By comparison, the infant mortality rate for Argentina stood at 18 in 1999; Chile's was down to ten; and Costa Rica, 12. For the entire Latin American and Caribbean region as a whole, the average was 30 in 1999.

Similarly, the mortality rate for children under five in Cuba has fallen from 13 to eight per thousand over the decade. That figure is 50 percent lower than the rate in Chile, the Latin American country closest to Cuba's achievement. For the region as a whole, the average was 38 in 1999.

"Six for every 1,000 in infant mortality - the same level as Spain - is just unbelievable," according to Ritzen, a former education minister in the Netherlands. "You observe it, and so you see that Cuba has done exceedingly well in the human development area."

Indeed, in Ritzen's own field the figures tell much the same story. Net primary enrolment for both girls and boys reached 100 percent in 1997, up from 92 percent in 1990. That was as high as most developed nations, higher even than the US rate and well above 80-90 percent rates achieved by the most advanced Latin American countries.

"Even in education performance, Cuba's is very much in tune with the developed world, and much higher than schools in, say, Argentina, Brazil, or Chile."

It is no wonder, in some ways. Public spending on education in Cuba amounts to about 6.7 percent of gross national income, twice the proportion in other Latin America and Caribbean countries and even Singapore.

There were 12 primary pupils for every Cuban teacher in 1997, a ratio that ranked with Sweden, rather than any other developing country. The Latin American and East Asian average was twice as high at 25 to one.

The average youth (ages 15-24) illiteracy rate in Latin America and the Caribbean stands at seven percent. In Cuba, the rate is zero. In Latin America, where the average is seven percent, only Uruguay approaches that achievement, with one percent youth illiteracy.

"Cuba managed to reduce illiteracy from 40 percent to zero within ten years," said Ritzen. "If Cuba shows that it is possible, it shifts the burden of proof to those who say it's not possible."

Similarly, Cuba devoted 9.1 percent of its gross domestic product (GDP) during the 1990s to health care, roughly equivalent to Canada's rate. Its ratio of 5.3 doctors per 1,000 people was the highest in the world.

The question that these statistics pose, of course, is whether the Cuban experience can be replicated. The answer given here is probably not.

"What does it is the incredible dedication," according to Wayne Smith, who was head of the US Interests Section in Havana in the late 1970s and early 1980s and has travelled to the island many times since. "Doctors in Cuba can make more driving cabs and working in hotels, but they don't. They're just very dedicated," he said.

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This amazing video and documentary, produced by Neighbor Democracy, details the evolving communal organs within the Rojava Revolution, from security to health care.

This 40 minute video is an in-depth look into the inner workings of the commune system of Rojava and how they work in practice. Rojava is the colloquial name for the Democratic Federation of Northern Syria (DFNS), a multi-ethnic, pluralist, women’s liberationist, and radically democratic autonomous zone that has grown out of the context of the Syrian Civil War. While there is frequent and thorough reporting on the military aspects of the Revolution in Rojava, especially their fight against Daesh (ISIS) and the Turkish State, the social revolution as it relates to the everyday lives of the people living there is rarely given anything more than a cursory overview, even in radical circles.

This video is one attempt to make up for that gap in easily digestible information about the way the day-to-day autonomous organizing affects daily life in Rojava. It also closes with a call for people in the US and elsewhere to build communes along similar lines, while discussing some possible contextual considerations specific to North America.

The communes in the DFNS are birthed out of tireless organizing by everyday people, predominately Kurdish women, in an effort that started clandestinely in the days of the Regime, but has since led to structures that could fill the power vacuum left in the war. The people of the DFNS are working out in practice through trial-and-error the culmination of 40 years of theoretical and practical knowledge built through the Kurdish struggle, and most thoroughly laid out by the imprisoned PKK leader, Abdullah Ocalan.

The communes have many similarities to the neighborhood assemblies that were the focus of the late American communalist Murray Bookchin, who was an inspiration for Ocalan. There are an estimated 4,000 communes in Rojava today, run through direct democracy of all the residents (50-150 families). The work of the commune is divided up into committees which anyone can join. The most common committees are explored in-depth in this video, and their timestamps can be found below. Each committee covered in the video can be found in its own short clip on the Neighbor Democracy channel so that these short, easy-to-digest videos can me shared in discussions about specific topics relating to communal approaches to various aspects of life.

Marinaleda: Will 'free homes' solve Spain's evictions crisis?

In the wake of Spain's property crash, hundreds of thousands of homes have been repossessed. While one regional government says it will seize repossessed properties from the banks, a little town is doing away with mortgages altogether.

In Marinaleda, residents like 42-year-old father-of-three, David Gonzalez Molina, are building their own homes.

While he burrows with a pneumatic drill into the earth, David nonchalantly says it "should take a couple of years".

However, when his new house is finished he will have paid "absolutely nothing".

Free bricks and mortar

The town hall in this small, aesthetically unremarkable town an hour-and-a-bit east of Seville, has given David 190 sq m (2,000 sq ft) of land.

He and others are only eligible after they have been registered residents of Marinaleda for at least two years.

The bricks and mortar are also a gift, this time from the regional government of Andalusia.

Only once his home is finished will he start paying 15 euros (£13) a month, to the regional government, to refund the cost of other building materials.

Of course, most people do not know how to build a house, so the town hall in Marinaleda throws in some expertise.

It employs several professional builders and plumbers, a couple of whom work alongside David, to help him construct his house.

HOMAGE TO CATALONIA

This was in late December 1936, less than seven months ago as I write, and yet it is a period that has already receded into enormous distance. Later events have obliterated it much more completely than they have obliterated 1935, or 1905, for that matter. I had come to Spain with some notion of writing newspaper articles, but I had joined the militia almost immediately, because at that time and in that atmosphere it seemed the only conceivable thing to do. The Anarchists were still in virtual control of Catalonia and the revolution was still in full swing. To anyone who had been there since the beginning it probably seemed even in December or January that the revolutionary period was ending; but when one came straight from England the aspect of Barcelona was something startling and overwhelming. It was the first time that I had ever been in a town where the working class was in the saddle. Practically every building of any size had been seized by the workers and was draped with red flags or with the red and black flag of the Anarchists; every wall was scrawled with the hammer and sickle and with the initials of the revolutionary parties; almost every church had been gutted and its images burnt. Churches here and there were being systematically demolished by gangs of workmen. Every shop and café had an inscription saying that it had been collectivized; even the bootblacks had been collectivized and their boxes painted red and black. Waiters and shop-walkers looked you in the face and treated you as an equal. Servile and even ceremonial forms of speech had temporarily disappeared. Nobody said ‘Señior’ or ‘Don’ or even ‘Usted’; everyone called everyone else ‘Comrade’ and ‘Thou’, and said ‘Salud!’ instead of ‘Buenos dias’. Tipping was forbidden by law; almost my first experience was receiving a lecture from a hotel manager for trying to tip a lift-boy. There were no private motor-cars, they had all been commandeered, and all the trams and taxis and much of the other transport were painted red and black. The revolutionary posters were everywhere, flaming from the walls in clean reds and blues that made the few remaining advertisements look like daubs of mud. Down the Ramblas, the wide central artery of the town where crowds of people streamed constantly to and fro, the loudspeakers were bellowing revolutionary songs all day and far into the night. And it was the aspect of the crowds that was the queerest thing of all. In outward appearance it was a town in which the wealthy classes had practically ceased to exist. Except for a small number of women and foreigners there were no ‘well-dressed’ people at all. Practically everyone wore rough working-class clothes, or blue overalls, or some variant of the militia uniform. All this was queer and moving. There was much in it that I did not understand, in some ways I did not even like it, but I recognized it immediately as a state of affairs worth fighting for. Also I believed that things were as they appeared, that this was really a workers' State and that the entire bourgeoisie had either fled, been killed, or voluntarily come over to the workers' side; I did not realize that great numbers of well-to-do bourgeois were simply lying low and disguising themselves as proletarians for the time being.

Together with all this there was something of the evil atmosphere of war. The town had a gaunt untidy look, roads and buildings were in poor repair, the streets at night were dimly lit for fear of air-raids, the shops were mostly shabby and half-empty. Meat was scarce and milk practically unobtainable, there was a shortage of coal, sugar, and petrol, and a really serious shortage of bread. Even at this period the bread-queues were often hundreds of yards long. Yet so far as one could judge the people were contented and hopeful. There was no unemployment, and the price of living was still extremely low; you saw very few conspicuously destitute people, and no beggars except the gipsies. Above all, there was a belief in the revolution and the future, a feeling of having suddenly emerged into an era of equality and freedom. Human beings were trying to behave as human beings and not as cogs in the capitalist machine. In the barbers' shops were Anarchist notices (the barbers were mostly Anarchists) solemnly explaining that barbers were no longer slaves. In the streets were coloured posters appealing to prostitutes to stop being prostitutes. To anyone from the hard-boiled, sneering civilization of the English-speaking races there was something rather pathetic in the literalness with which these idealistic Spaniards took the hackneyed phrases of revolution. At that time revolutionary ballads of the naivest kind, all about proletarian brotherhood and the wickedness of Mussolini, were being sold on the streets for a few centimes each. I have often seen an illiterate militiaman buy one of these ballads, laboriously spell out the words, and then, when he had got the hang of it, begin singing it to an appropriate tune.

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Feel free to unfuck yourself you class cuck.

#communism #socialism #anarchism #you're a fucking moron and should shut your fucking mouth

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darkobssessions · 3 years

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Oh my god I am tired.

And it can’t be fixed by a good nutrient dense meal. Several days of good nutrient dense meals. Good sleep. Animal organ supplements and cod liver oil.

Not eating sugar. Not spending a fuckton of time on facebook.

Having a course to go to (that on it’s own is EXHAUSTING ME).

Ticking items off my checklist isn’t helping. Sitting and doing nothing because I’m too tired isn’t helping. Being honest on social media isn’t helping because I get advice that literally makes me want to off myself.

Speaking to support welfare people isn’t helping because no matter what I say I will still look like an alien with wildly gesticulating hands and I will still speak gibberish to them. They will not understand the struggle. They smile and nod with sympathy, or is it empathy? And the meeting ends and I have to leave and start again. Transitions terrify me. I tell them this and they need examples.

Where should I start? Changing a table in a restaurant sends me into a panic because I am now looking at an unknown patch of wall and even though it is the same beloved restaurant I cannot enjoy a bite of food because it feels like I am in a different ‘space?’

That I screenshot the position of my apps on my phone so I know where I had them if they get scrambled? And any change I instate I have to check I am used to it by switching back and forth between layouts to see how I feel with each one? That if change is just done without that buffer period I feel physically ill and cannot move on?

That every new job or change my partner makes to his routine is a change to my micro-routines and I spend a week or more in actual psychotic episodic stress, sobbing, melting down, with a building tension and despair, until suddenly I am okay with this new thing. Until it changes AGAIN and I am not.

That I feel the micro differences between how things were and what they have changed into. In a way that no one else notices. If a hat gets crushed in my carry on (which my favourite new one did this weekend) and it is flattened I know it will never go back to being how it was when I bought it, even if I fidget with it, bend it and try to reshape it. It is not MY hate anymore. It is a different hat. And it will never feel the same on my head as it DID. It will probably not be a favourite item anymore after this.

That I can tell the difference between the slight change in colour of a piece of clothing if something has spilled on it that won’t come out, or I am making art and I have second thoughts about using a certain product and then do it anyway and the end result is just a hairline difference from what it looked like before BUT I CAN TELL and forevermore that piece of art is ruined, even if I give it as a gift, I don’t LIKE it anymore and it will never be the same. When I add too much ink to some fine writing and it is ugly now.

When something changes with my hair or my body, like going to the dentist and I am out f sorts for weeks feeling the new tooth shape in my mouth and crying and grieving over the parts that were lost. How do I tell these people this? How do I explain to them that I just cannot rest if such a change has happened without an adequate time to prepare or grieve? That in the same way a compulsion operates, I cannot complete a task if something is missing, or move on if I am not 100% okay with where I stand with regards to any one thing.

So really why would a meal help?

Or some seemingly friendly people listening (while not understanding a thing)?

Or tons of free time (I should be doing important tasks in) that I end up wasting in existential dread?

Why does it matter that my brain is a supercomputer if I can’t organise my life? If I am burned out and I DO NOT want to engage with courses that ask me to stretch myself beyond the reasonable limit of compulsions not a single one of the others has?

I am exhausted, burnt out and still every day, dancing the dance without the dopamine, and patting myself on the back for not going on a murder spree, choking up all the drugs, crying in bed all day, giving up, destroying my possessions and just screaming gutturally.

In many ways I am destroying my life by not being able to care, have motivation or move forwards in a healthy way.

Need this course for the visa so I can stay with my partner in his country who is the only person who really knows me and takes care of me.

He works a full time job and I sit at home in existential dread knowing full well I should put in those job applications (for the 10 measly hours I am alloted to work weekly), catch up on university emails and work (I don’t care even though it is what has me in this country to begin with), set up my depop listings so I can get some living money...

Lists, lists, tasks, steps in order and priorities...

Or even to gather my poetry for a book. Or to write a story of my experiences. But can I do that either?

Battling with the stubborn ‘I’m not doing it’ attitude even though it IS for me, for US to move forwards.

Trying to get my stubborn brain to understand that there will only be more of this apathy, boredom and struggle UNLESS and only if I can survive through this difficult thing, make it work, and grow as a result. I’ve been through enough pain and difficulty that I cannot reasonably tell myself to just struggle with it because ‘it will be okay in the end’. It never has been before why is this time different?

By being challenged to do these things now technically it should lead to a change because we have set it up differently than it ever has been before. It could lead to becoming independent for the first time in my life. And maybe even enjoying it. Make my greeting cards and products that I have so much fun making but for lots more people than just family and friends.

Share some of my stories, writing and art.

Come out into the world as who I really am. Be a bit less afraid. Dress up how I would like to. Filter my words less.

Be in touch more with that ageless space within me from whence all this comes. Do the ancestors justice by making use of all the things they literally died to bring into the world.

Stop being so paralysed with dread and guilt.

Open up more.

And maybe I won’t feel happy, but I will be on my way towards fulfilled, and I have a suspicion that’s the only thing that will fill my cup

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giftofshewbread · 3 years

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That Time is Here

By Dennis Huebshman Published on: August 21, 2021

From 2 Timothy 4:3-4; “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears, they will accumulate teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.” (all emphasis mine)

“Religion” is thriving, and some mega-churches are filled to capacity during regular “services.” The biggest issue is that true Bible teaching is getting hard to find. For some of these churches, the Sunday after the Rapture will not see any change in attendance. They’ll still be putting on light shows, have heart-thumping music, and be giving “ear-tickling” messages for those itching ears. However, Jesus will be conveniently left out. The newer generation doesn’t want to be told they are sinners in need of a Savior but that their earthly lifestyle is just fine.

The one to three hours a week “Christians” are content to be present and support their organized evangelical churches; just don’t expect anything else the rest of the week. Besides, all religions worship the same god, and Jesus was a good person, but not really necessary for us to go to heaven – right? The need here is to read John 14:6.

While true believers’ numbers are declining in America, the places that are seeing increases are in countries that persecute and martyr Christians. Iran, China, North Korea, parts of Africa and other Middle East nations are a few that seek out anyone who calls on Jesus to be their Savior. There have been reports of people being given a chance to renounce Jesus and turn back to the religion of that area, yet many choose death rather than change.

Several countries around the world today are making it a crime for anyone to speak out against lifestyles that God calls abominations. Canada is one of these countries where there are pastors and educators facing prison for calling the “alphabet” lifestyles sinful. Cases of arrests are also being reported in Europe and Scandinavia, and America is just a breath away from this same action.

Luke 21:16:17; “You will be delivered up, even by parents and brothers and relatives and friends, and some of you they will put to death. You will be hated by all for My name’s sake.”

Matthew 24:10-13; “And then many will fall away and betray one another, and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”

Next, Paul’s prophecy about the end of this age in 2 Timothy 3:1-5: “But understand this, that in the last days will come times of difficulty. For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people.”

The last line is good advice, but how is one to avoid such people when they are all around and growing daily in number?

In 2 Peter 2:1-3, “But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them, the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed, they will exploit you with their false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep.”

Going to 1 John 2:15-17, “Do not love the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world – the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and the pride of life – is not from the Father, but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires; but whoever does the will of God abides forever.”

Continuing to 1 John 2:18-19, “Children, it is the last hour, and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come. Therefore, we know that it is the last hour. They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out that it might become plain they all are not of us.”

The antichrists and false prophets that have been around since the time of John’s writings are not the ultimate evil ones of Daniel and Revelation. All that have come, and all that are here now, are a prelude to the era of the 7-year Wrath/Tribulation.

The ultimate antichrist and false prophet most likely are alive today. They may or may not know the role that they are about to play, but they are in Satan’s grip. However, 2 Thessalonians 2:6-7 explains why the beast hasn’t come forth yet. “And you know what is restraining him now, so that he may be revealed in his time. For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work. Only He who now restrains it will do so until He is out of the way.”

All true believers are indwelt by the Holy Spirit. For the antichrist to appear, that influence will be removed; and in doing so, the Rapture has to occur first to keep God’s promise to keep us from that coming wrath (1 Thessalonians 1:10; 1 Thessalonians 5:9-10; Revelation 3:10).

Anyone who truly focuses on the world today should be able to see that all the signs are here right now. There have always been evil people and unspeakable, horrible deeds that have been done, but the sheer magnitude today of satanic activity is overwhelming.

Our government, along with the liberal faux news media, are “programming” people to follow whatever they say without question, and sadly, they are gaining a majority of followers. The new world order is rapidly coming together, and eventually, there will be a one-world government just as God said there would be. Prior to this, there will be a coalition that will attack Israel (Ezekiel 38), believing that they will be able to plunder the wealth which that small nation has.

Jesus said there would be wars and rumors of wars near the end of the age. We are seeing a lot of “saber-rattling” from the coalition of Russia, Iran and Turkey that formed just within the last decade. Ezekiel 38:4 states that God will “put hooks into your jaws” and convince them to attack Israel. The “hook” would be the massive gas and oil deposits that Israel has, as all three members of the coalition are financially strapped.

Nothing that is taking place today surprises our Heavenly Father. All prophecy leading up to these times has been fulfilled with 100% accuracy. Why would anyone think this would be any different?

Knowing what the Bible says about end-time events, one might think this would be warning enough to possibly change the outcome. However, 1 Corinthians 1:18 says, “For the word of the Cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.”

Also, 2 Thessalonians 2:11, “Therefore, God sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe what is false.” I believe that delusion has already started.

The best scenario of all this is Luke 21:28, where Jesus tells us to look up when all this starts to take place because our redemption is near. All who have truly received and accepted Jesus as their Savior will not be here for the worst 7-year period of time this world has ever seen.

The mechanics (ABCs) of redemption are found in Romans 10:9-13, which ends by saying that “All who call on the name of the Lord will be saved.” God will force no one to accept His Son, but He will not turn anyone away who truly calls on Jesus. The event known as the Rapture could take place at any moment of any day now.

No one has sinned so greatly that they cannot be forgiven. The absolute unforgivable sin is to take your last breath on this earth without having Jesus as your Savior. All He asks is that you acknowledge you have sinned and ask His forgiveness; He has already paid in full the price God requires – a pure, sinless blood sacrifice. Then, have the faith that God raised Him from the dead to conquer sin and death for us. When you call on Him, the Holy Spirit will come and reside in you until you are with Jesus, either by death or by Rapture.

Call on Him today, right now, and you will be assured of an eternal home with Him in paradise. It will be the best decision you will have ever made.

Maranatha – Come, Lord Jesus!

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arrghigiveup · 4 years

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I’ll put the full text of the article under the cut for the benefit of folks who don’t have NYT subscriptions, but the TL;DR is: INCREDIBLY, HAVING LARGE CHUNKS OF YOUR POPULATION GET ILL AND DIE CAN ALSO HAVE A NEGATIVE EFFECT ON THE ECONOMY. WHODATHUNK?!

Sweden Has Become the World’s Cautionary Tale

Its decision to carry on in the face of the pandemic has yielded a surge of deaths without sparing its economy from damage — a red flag as the United States and Britain move to lift lockdowns.

By Peter S. Goodman

LONDON — Ever since the coronavirus emerged in Europe, Sweden has captured international attention by conducting an unorthodox, open-air experiment. It has allowed the world to examine what happens in a pandemic when a government allows life to carry on largely unhindered.

This is what has happened: Not only have thousands more people died than in neighboring countries that imposed lockdowns, but Sweden’s economy has fared little better.

“They literally gained nothing,” said Jacob F. Kirkegaard, a senior fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics in Washington. “It’s a self-inflicted wound, and they have no economic gains.”

The results of Sweden’s experience are relevant well beyond Scandinavian shores. In the United States, where the virus is spreading with alarming speed, many states have — at President Trump’s urging — avoided lockdowns or lifted them prematurely on the assumption that this would foster economic revival, allowing people to return to workplaces, shops and restaurants.

In Britain, Prime Minister Boris Johnson — previously hospitalized with Covid-19 — reopened pubs and restaurants last weekend in a bid to restore normal economic life.

Implicit in these approaches is the assumption that governments must balance saving lives against the imperative to spare jobs, with the extra health risks of rolling back social distancing potentially justified by a resulting boost to prosperity. But Sweden’s grim result — more death, and nearly equal economic damage — suggests that the supposed choice between lives and paychecks is a false one: A failure to impose social distancing can cost lives and jobs at the same time.

Sweden put stock in the sensibility of its people as it largely avoided imposing government prohibitions. The government allowed restaurants, gyms, shops, playgrounds and most schools to remain open. By contrast, Denmark and Norway opted for strict quarantines, banning large groups and locking down shops and restaurants.

More than three months later, the coronavirus is blamed for 5,420 deaths in Sweden, according to the World Health Organization. That might not sound especially horrendous compared with the more than 129,000 Americans who have died. But Sweden is a country of only 10 million people. Per million people, Sweden has suffered 40 percent more deaths than the United States, 12 times more than Norway, seven times more than Finland and six times more than Denmark.

The elevated death toll resulting from Sweden’s approach has been clear for many weeks. What is only now emerging is how Sweden, despite letting its economy run unimpeded, has still suffered business-destroying, prosperity-diminishing damage, and at nearly the same magnitude of its neighbors.

Sweden’s central bank expects its economy to contract by 4.5 percent this year, a revision from a previously expected gain of 1.3 percent. The unemployment rate jumped to 9 percent in May from 7.1 percent in March. “The overall damage to the economy means the recovery will be protracted, with unemployment remaining elevated,” Oxford Economics concluded in a recent research note.

This is more or less how damage caused by the pandemic has played out in Denmark, where the central bank expects that the economy will shrink 4.1 percent this year, and where joblessness has edged up to 5.6 percent in May from 4.1 percent in March.

In short, Sweden suffered a vastly higher death rate while failing to collect on the expected economic gains.

The coronavirus does not stop at national borders. Despite the government’s decision to allow the domestic economy to roll on, Swedish businesses are stuck with the same conditions that produced recession everywhere else. And Swedish people responded to the fear of the virus by limiting their shopping — not enough to prevent elevated deaths, but enough to produce a decline in business activity.

Here is one takeaway with potentially universal import: It is simplistic to portray government actions such as quarantines as the cause of economic damage. The real culprit is the virus itself. From Asia to Europe to the Americas, the risks of the pandemic have disrupted businesses while prompting people to avoid shopping malls and restaurants, regardless of official policy.

Sweden is exposed to the vagaries of global trade. Once the pandemic was unleashed, it was certain to suffer the economic consequences, said Mr. Kirkegaard, the economist.

“The Swedish manufacturing sector shut down when everyone else shut down because of the supply chain situation,” he said. “This was entirely predictable.”

What remained in the government’s sphere of influence was how many people would die.

“There is just no questioning and no willingness from the Swedish government to really change tack, until it’s too late,” Mr. Kirkegaard said. “Which is astonishing, given that it’s been clear for quite some time that the economic gains that they claim to have gotten from this are just nonexistent.”

Norway, on the other hand, was not only quick to impose an aggressive lockdown, but early to relax it as the virus slowed, and as the government ramped up testing. It is now expected to see a more rapid economic turnaround. Norway’s central bank predicts that its mainland economy — excluding the turbulent oil and gas sector — will contract by 3.9 percent this year. That amounts to a marked improvement over the 5.5 percent decline expected in the midst of the lockdown.

Sweden’s laissez faire approach does appear to have minimized the economic damage compared with its neighbors in the first three months of the year, according to an assessment by the International Monetary Fund. But that effect has worn off as the force of the pandemic has swept through the global economy, and as Swedish consumers have voluntarily curbed their shopping anyway.

Researchers at the University of Copenhagen gained access to credit data from Danske Bank, one of the largest in Scandinavia. They studied spending patterns from mid-March, when Denmark put the clamps on the economy, to early April. The pandemic prompted Danes to reduce their spending 29 percent in that period, the study concluded. During the same weeks, consumers in Sweden — where freedom reigned — reduced their spending 25 percent.

Strikingly, older people — those over 70 — reduced their spending more in Sweden than in Denmark, perhaps concerned that the business-as-usual circumstances made going out especially risky.

Collectively, Scandinavian consumers are expected to continue spending far more robustly than in the United States, said Thomas Harr, global head of research at Danske Bank, emphasizing those nations’ generous social safety nets, including national health care systems. Americans, by contrast, tend to rely on their jobs for health care, making them more cautious about their health and their spending during the pandemic, knowing that hospitalization can be a gateway to financial calamity.

“It’s very much about the welfare state,” Mr. Harr said of Scandinavian countries. “You’re not as concerned about catching the virus, because you know that, if you do, the state is paying for health care.”

#sweden #covid-19 #All you bravehearts who want to end lockdown because #'it'll be worse if the economy collapses; we can't stay indoors forever'#I got news for you: everyone's economy is going to shit ANYWAY #the only difference is whether you'll have people left alive to RECOVER the economy with

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comrade-meow · 3 years

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New Zealand schools have introduced a climate change resource that suggests children “eat less meat and dairy”, even though teachers will not know how much meat or dairy any child in their care has eaten. Opinion pieces in the papers have called for the reduction of meat and dairy in hospital menus, not usually generous sources of such foods, despite the well-known risks of undernutrition, especially of protein, in the frail and elderly. Globally, the influential and once-objective medical journal the Lancet has hosted Eat Lancet, a coalition of vegan and vegetarian technocrats backed by processed food manufacturers, and promoted their agenda. The Guardian newspaper accepted an £626783 grant from the backers of Impossible Foods to run a series of articles against animal agriculture.

These initiatives, aimed at remodelling our food supply in a way that favours the multinational food processing and seed-and-chemical corporations, whose control of many aspects of farming and diet is already problematic, have run far ahead of the scientific community’s efforts to understand the health effects of such dietary change.

Our hunter-gatherer past

The Neolithic Revolution was the first alteration in human affairs that is generally considered worthy of the term Revolution. In Marx’s terms, it saw a change in the means of production sufficient to form new classes aware of their identities, and thus a change in the relations between people. Early humans had fed themselves in an opportunistic, hunter-gatherer fashion that tended to favour a diet of animals supplemented with plants where and when these were available. Large animals made the best meals but gathering activities could collect many smaller ones, as well as eggs, grubs etc.

The people of the Mesolithic era discovered that some animals could be herded and some plants grown in gardens (not usually by the same community, because one activity favours nomadism and the other favours a sedentary habit) but these activities, which greatly improved food security after the decline of the prehistoric mega-fauna due to hunting and climate pressures, tended to occur at the communal level and probably did not create major class differences between the people involved.

The invention of farming

The Neolithic Revolution, which unleashed the human potential for war, creativity, and social division, resulted from the identification of the germs of plants (specifically grains and legumes) as durable sources of energy. If grains were grown (I will use grains in the wider sense of “cereals”, after Braudel, including other dried germs such as peas) and there was a surplus, this surplus would still be edible over the next year, a year when drought or pests or diseases might wipe out the other food sources that hunter-gatherers depended on. This advantage was offset by the nutritional poverty of grain-based diets, so that tuberculosis probably became an endemic disease during this period,[1] but the existence of a less-perishable surplus allowed the diversion of part of the population away from food gathering for large parts of the year, and saw the creation of armies and other workforces.

In Europe, the Neolithic Revolution is dated at around 10,000 BC and its arrangements are a matter of prehistory, but in China this change occurred later and the written record around Bi-gu or grain avoidance includes folk-memories of conflict between grain eating and grain avoiding peoples.

The history of colonisation is the history of the conquest of lactose-intolerant peoples by lactose-tolerant populations, and of non-grain eaters by grain-eaters. In the Indian sub-continent, a combination of dairy herding and a cereal diet high in legumes uniquely allowed the survival of a substantially vegetarian population, and saw the conservation of genes favouring reproduction on such a diet, including genetic polymorphisms still rare in European populations (adaptive mutations only predominate where many individuals without them have failed to survive or reproduce).[2] That the Indian social system became more aggressively class-based than any other is probably no co-incidence; prejudice against meat-eating is still used as a tool of social control against minorities, while meat-eating is one way young Indians today identify as modern and egalitarian. However there were some important exceptions to the trend – the Aztecs were a hunter-gather people who conquered and dominated the Mesolithic agriculturalists of Mexico, and the Mongols were nomadic herders and hunters whose greater stamina and independence allowed them to defeat the rice-fed armies of the Chinese Emperors (after conquering this breadbasket, the successive Mongol Khans seem to have eaten and drunk themselves to death).

Early vegetarian ideology

In the European and Asian cereal-based societies the poorest classes went without meat, supplementing cereals when possible with buttermilk or blood pudding which were more economic replacements. The rich ate as much meat as they could. The idea that an entire society might avoid meat is a recent one with its roots in religious practice, and, insofar as it has any political basis, this flows in two distinct streams – the eco-fascist, in which meat avoidance is a sign of “purity”, most humans are a burden on the Earth, and the Indian vegetarians are of course Aryans. This is something like the vegetarian vision that Adolf Hitler picked up while studying anti-Semitism with Wagner’s heirs at Bayreuth.

And then there is a Marxist-Anarchist, and latterly Intersectional, version, founded on a valuation of animal rights as inseparable from, and a logical extension of, human rights. Vegetarianism was a frequent obsession of the early British Socialists; G.B. Shaw, who derived most of his energy from dairy fat and lived to the age of 94, made himself into a well-known example, and the idea was sufficiently entrenched among the British Socialists and their milieu that H.G. Wells preserved its internal contradictions for posterity in The Time Machine. In his far-future vision, humanity has evolved into two separate species. The Morlocks are descendants of working-class meat-eaters, the Eloi of leisure-class vegetarians – all Wells’ loathing is reserved for the Morlocks, yet it is obvious they are (still) the engineering brains keeping their world running and the Eloi fed. The Eloi are useless for anything but enjoying the sunshine and feeding the Morlocks, and the discordance in Wells’ progressive values as he describes both species is as shocking as anything else in the story.

The first large-scale experiment in plant-based protein was attempted by the Bolsheviks. As usual, it’s hard to separate the roles played by idealism and cynicism in the story, but the bare bones are that the Soviets found their initial attempts to remodel the countryside rebuffed, blamed this on the recaltricance of the kulak class, and set out to destroy them. The problem being that the kulaks, owning most of the cattle and sheep across the Russian Republics, helped to feed the people. Beginning in the 1920s, soy experts from the USA (then the Western world’s leading soy producer) were among the many foreign technicians imported into Russia, and soy processing plants were built and soy production increased to 283,000 tonnes in 1931, the year Stalin unleashed enforced collectivisation and the terror against the kulaks (and also the Kazakhs, a herding people who suffered the largest proportionate loss of life during this period). This led to the loss of millions of animals, either killed by their dispossessed owners or mismanaged by their inexperienced new owners. The soy project was hardly able to prevent the massive famines that followed, and by 1935 soy production had dropped to 54,000 tonnes. Though soy milk would later prove useful during the siege of Leningrad, by the 1930s soy had probably only served one purpose, as a statistic needed aforehand to quell the objections of pragmatic delegates to the destruction of the kulaks and their livestock.

Today we face the revival of this idea, of plant protein that will create a world with no need for animal protein, and the remodelling of life in the countryside, with the new impetus of climate change as its driver. Livestock cycles natural carbon, meaning there is no net addition of C02 to the atmosphere – and its contribution to the shorter-lived methane precursor has not changed since 2000 (methane rises have been due to fracking, methane itself AKA “natural gas”, landfill, and rice production; methane-emitting animals have always existed on Earth in substantial numbers, and have not created a novel situation in the sense that the discovery of coal, oil and gas did). We have recently seen how much global disruption is required to reduce fossil fuel CO2 emissions to 2006 levels, levels which will still warm the planet if they continue. It could be still be worth reducing agricultural cycling of CO2 through methane, which is more warming than CO2 if this is cost-free, but is it?

Why humans evolved as meat eaters

Animal foods, and especially red meat, supply a constellation of nutrients not found together (if they are found at all) in any plant food. Nutrients are those chemicals essential for the functioning of the human organism, and plants, but not livestock, can survive well without nutrients such as amino acids, fatty acids, vitamins and minerals that are essential to humans. Surviving as a vegetarian or vegan is possible for some (perhaps assuming the genetic variants referred to earlier are present) but to thrive requires knowledge of these nutrients, where to find them, how to process the foods that supply them, or how to supplement them. Thriving as an omnivore or even a complete carnivore does not – nutritional sufficiency is the reason we evolved eating meat and other animal foods long before we learned there were such things as essential nutrients.

The reasons for avoiding meat or all animal foods can have a class basis – veganism may be taken up by educated middle-class adults, more likely to be exposed to “health food” ideas and aware of the need to supplement, some of whom then commercialise their habits as social media “influencers”. Meat avoidance is also being adopted increasingly by educated middle-class children for identity or compassionate reasons, but the poor may also avoid meat because of its cost when a loaf of bread or a packet of flavoured noodles can be bought for a dollar; these two motivations sometimes coincide when students in temporary poverty make a virtue of what they perceive to be a necessity.

Does the meat-avoiding behaviour of young people have unintended costs? Several observational studies have looked at the characteristics of meat-avoiding populations and found alarming increases in depression, anxiety and self-harm.

“The majority of studies, and especially the higher quality studies, showed that those who avoided meat consumption had significantly higher rates or risk of depression, anxiety, and/or self-harm behaviors. There was mixed evidence for temporal relations, but study designs and a lack of rigor precluded inferences of causal relations. Our study does not support meat avoidance as a strategy to benefit psychological health.”[3]

How can we explain these correlations? Why should we assume that they are causal?There are several lines of evidence to support a causal link: 1) several nutrients found in meat and animal foods are important factors in mood and cognition; vitamin B12, iron, carnitine, DHA, choline and tryptophan are some examples.[4] 2) the fatty acid mix in dairy and red meat has a similar composition to that of amniotic fluid and breast milk which has anxiolytic (anti-anxiety) effects in young animals.[5] 3) soy is a convenient and cheap replacement for animal protein; soy processing in Western diets results in a 10-fold higher level of the estrogenic contaminant isoflavone than that found in Asian diets.[6] Soy isoflavone causes anxiety behaviour in young female animals, and there is evidence supporting psychotropic and hormonal effects in humans.[7,8,9.10] Interestingly, while right-wing critiques of soy eating focus on effects it can have on young men, the scientific evidence for adverse effects in younger females, converting to HRT-like benefits after menopause, is stronger.[11] 4) other toxins found in plants, such as salicylates and oxalates, as well as problematic proteins such as gliadin/gluten and zein, may be present at higher levels in meat-free diets (but are not unique to them). A vegan mince sold in Countdown supermarkets is simply a coloured blend of soy protein and gluten, a protein linked to the risk of schizophrenia.[12] In the New Zealand context it would be relatively easy to confirm or dispute some of these associations. Everyone admitted to hospital for longer than a day supplies their dietary preferences. The dietetic preference data from psychiatric admissions could be both linked to outcomes over time and compared with the population average distribution, or the distribution in a ward where diet is least likely to play a role in admissions.

Iron deficiency in women

Young women in New Zealand are the most likely to report being vegan or vegetarian in surveys, as elsewhere in the world. Vegans in the Gender Studies field generate papers linking meat to masculinity, with the implication that this masculinity is toxic and might be improved by a plant-based diet.[13] The corollary of this belief – that women may therefore be weakened by meat-avoidance – is never considered. In a 1980 essay by Gloria Steinem called The Politics of Food (in the collection Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions) she describes some of the cultural constructs by which women are deprived of the good nutrition which men use to stay dominant. The belief that men need to eat red meat more often than women may have been valid when the average man was more likely to have to survive an attack by a wild bear than the average woman, but today it is mainly women who suffer from serious iron deficiency. The rate – and the cost to the health system – is increasing in New Zealand as more women give up meat. Iron deficiency anaemia in early pregnancy is associated with neurodevelopmental disorders in children, not an outcome that will increase the mother’s autonomy.[14]

In Georg Büchner’s 19th century “working class tragedy” Woyzeck, filmed by Werner Herzog with Klaus Kinski in the leading role and the subject of an opera by Alban Berg, the title character, a soldier, is subject to experimentation by a sadistic army doctor. The experiment involves Woyzeck living on nothing but peas. Peas may supply a complete protein, but Woyzeck goes insane; the deprivation being the final straw in his alienation. James Cameron, the film-maker responsible for Avatar and Titanic, is investing heavily in pea protein as if this were his gift to New Zealand. I am not sure whether he has watched Woyzeck – one would think he has.

Plant-based vs meat-based

Again, we have the specificity of plant germs as commodity; their low cost of production, long storage life and versatility of processing outcomes makes them an ideal investment and a robust one, as poverty and adversity increases their consumption, as we saw during the 2020 Lockdown Event. However, a plant-based burger is nutritionally greatly inferior to a meat burger, and that burger is often the most nutritious single food item many will people eat in the course of their day. The current push to eat a plant-based diet for “planetary health” is something that all the multinational food processors have signed up and provided funding for, and why not – Coca Cola, Unilever, Nestlé have always sold us plant-based foods. We notice that while iron-deficiency anaemia increases in New Zealand with the reason in plain sight, Nestlé scientists here in NZ are developing a more potent form of supplemental iron to add value to their products as their parent company backs the push to reduce meat. (As usual, it’s hard to separate the roles played by idealism and cynicism in the story). But, you may well ask, isn’t eating meat linked to an increased risk of cancer and heart disease? These associations are small to begin with, but they are also intensely confounded by social class and educational status. Supposing a factory that makes a carcinogenic chemical is hiring. Who is more likely to apply for that job – a meat eater (who will likely have a bigger family to support, among other considerations) or a vegan? Who, so to speak, eats all the pies, and needs food that is filling and nutritious without having to give it much thought? Who is more likely to work two jobs and be exposed to the disruptive metabolic effect of shift work? Carcinogen exposure and shift work are just two of the confounding variables ignored in diet epidemiology. (That meat-eating in Western populations may symbolise or associate with labour itself – as it did for H.G. Wells when he wrote The Time Machine – is not a consideration I have found discussed in the epidemiological literature.)

Certainly one can think of mechanisms that might link meat to disease, as one can with any food, but one can also think of protective mechanisms; several of the nutrients found mainly or only in animal foods are required for various antioxidant and immune defensive enzymes, and some like carnitine and EPA even have a place in the management of heart disease. The argument against meat-eating should not be confused with the argument for sometimes rationing a valuable food that is in short supply. The wartime rationing of meat in the UK is thought to have improved the health of the poorest by guaranteeing a greater supply than they had had previously, at a more affordable price. In Europe, the peasants who supplied the cities with meat, dairy and luxury foods such as oysters were sometimes forced by network disruptions to consume these foods – which many of them had never tasted before – with benefit to their own health.

The plant-based agenda can scarcely be expected to recognise these benefits, or understand the argument summarised by Williams and Dunbar (with regard to the vitamin nicotinamide and amino acid tryptophan in their tuberculosis paper), that if better data collection and analysis resulted in us ”…returning to our egalitarian past and redistributing meat or its components that supply NAD (avoiding both the highs and the lows between individuals and over individual lifetimes) [this] may be more effective than subsidizing corn grain (while the increased prosperity from unlocking human potential should pay for the intervention).”[1] Progress – which includes unlocking human potential from the chains of preventable mental and physical disease – depends on good data, and we do not yet seem to collate the data required to know whether or for whom plant-based diets are safe in New Zealand.

George Henderson works as a researcher for Professor Grant Schofield and the team behind the What The Fat books and the social enterprise PreKure, which has been running free lifestyle and health programs through the lockdown. He is the author or co-author of several scientific articles and letters published by the BMJ, Lancet Diabetes and Endocrinology, the JAMA, and other journals, including an influential review of low carbohydrate diets in diabetes management for the New Zealand Medical Journal. A musician, songwriter and amateur musicologist, he has recently presented a series of podcasts on 20th century women composers for Karyn Hay’s Lately show on RNZ.

References:

[1] Williams AC, Dunbar RI. Big brains, meat, tuberculosis, and the nicotinamide switches: co-evolutionary relationships with modern repercussions?. Int J Tryptophan Res. 2013;6:73‐88. Published 2013 Oct 15. doi:10.4137/IJTR.S12838 [2] Kothapalli KS, Ye K, Gadgil MS, et al. Positive Selection on a Regulatory Insertion-Deletion Polymorphism in FADS2 Influences Apparent Endogenous Synthesis of Arachidonic Acid. Mol Biol Evol. 2016;33(7):1726‐1739. doi:10.1093/molbev/msw049

[3] Urska Dobersek, Gabrielle Wy, Joshua Adkins, Sydney Altmeyer, Kaitlin Krout, Carl J. Lavie & Edward Archer (2020) Meat and mental health: a systematic review of meat abstention and depression, anxiety, and related phenomena, Critical Reviews in Food Science and Nutrition, DOI: 10.1080/10408398.2020.1741505 [4] Frédéric Leroy & Nathan Cofnas (2019) Should dietary guidelines recommend low red meat intake?, Critical Reviews in Food Science and Nutrition, DOI: 10.1080/10408398.2019.1657063 [5] Contreras CM, Rodríguez-Landa JF, García-Ríos RI, Cueto-Escobedo J, Guillen-Ruiz G, Bernal-Morales B. Myristic acid produces anxiolytic-like effects in Wistar rats in the elevated plus maze. Biomed Res Int. 2014;2014:492141. doi:10.1155/2014/492141 [6] Fernandez-Lopez A, Lamothe V, Delample M, Denayrolles M, Bennetau-Pelissero C. Removing isoflavones from modern soyfood: Why and how?. Food Chem. 2016;210:286‐294. doi:10.1016/j.foodchem.2016.04.126 [7] Hicks KD, Sullivan AW, Cao J, Sluzas E, Rebuli M, Patisaul HB. Interaction of bisphenol A (BPA) and soy phytoestrogens on sexually dimorphic sociosexual behaviors in male and female rats. Horm Behav. 2016;84:121‐126. doi:10.1016/j.yhbeh.2016.06.010 [8] Tillett T. Full of beans? Early soy exposure associated with less feminine play in girls [published correction appears in Environ Health Perspect. 2012 Jan;120(1):A17]. Environ Health Perspect. 2011;119(12):A525. doi:10.1289/ehp.119-a525b [9] Adgent MA, Daniels JL, Rogan WJ, et al. Early-life soy exposure and age at menarche. Paediatr Perinat Epidemiol. 2012;26(2):163‐175. doi:10.1111/j.1365-3016.2011.01244.x [10] Hibbeln, J.R., SanGiovanni, J.P., Golding, J., Emmett, P.M., Northstone, K., Davis, J.M., Schuckit, M. and Heron, J. (2017), Meat Consumption During Pregnancy and Substance Misuse Among Adolescent Offspring: Stratification of TCN2 Genetic Variants. Alcohol Clin Exp Res, 41: 1928-1937. doi:10.1111/acer.13494 [11] Patisaul HB, Jefferson W. The pros and cons of phytoestrogens. Front Neuroendocrinol. 2010;31(4):400‐419. doi:10.1016/j.yfrne.2010.03.003 [12] Čiháková D, Eaton WW, Talor MV, et al. Gliadin-related antibodies in schizophrenia. Schizophr Res. 2018;195:585‐586. doi:10.1016/j.schres.2017.08.051 [13] Jessica Greenebaum & Brandon Dexter (2018) Vegan men and hybrid masculinity, Journal of Gender Studies, 27:6, 637-648, DOI: 10.1080/09589236.2017.1287064 [14] Wiegersma AM, Dalman C, Lee BK, Karlsson H, Gardner RM. Association of Prenatal Maternal Anemia With Neurodevelopmental Disorders. JAMA Psychiatry. 2019;76(12):1294–1304. doi:10.1001/jamapsychiatry.2019.2309

#Anglo.txt

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izukyu · 4 years

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Hey! I rly love your writing ♡ How about a Chai Latte for Bakugou, Midoriya and Shinsou?

yep! sorry for the long wait and the dummy thick post. apologies if this is a pain to scroll past! ♡ thank you for the request nonnie!

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

Katsuki is actually somewhat insecure of his relationship with you. He’s aware of his rash persona and how it could possibly affect you, and he’s working on becoming a better partner for you. But a promise isn’t enough to steady the relationship in his opinion.

Katsuki makes it his goal to take you out more along with getting over his initial shyness of showing affection to you in public. It might not seem like much, but he’s trying his best! Although his intention isn’t to stop training in the afternoon in order to take you on a date, Katsuki will do his best to organize his week to have enough time for you. Where you two go on dates mostly depends on you, Katsuki isn’t very creative when it comes to coming up with activities for dates in general, but he’s flexible and will do anything for you, even if he gets a bit grumpy at first.

He’ll be very adamant on not admitting to it, but he’s had date and training time overlap just so you can watch him in action. It’s not painfully obvious, but Katsuki does go all-out when you’re watching—he thinks he’s got to prove how strong he is for you. Which really isn’t the case, but are you really in any position to argue when he’s sweating, flexing his muscles for you, all with a smirk on his face?

To spice up the relationship, as mentioned earlier, you can also expect him being more affectionate. It’s certainly not overly sweet, but he does make sure to always remark how much he needs you. Although it’s not always with words. Sometimes he’ll do it by wrapping an arm around your waist, other times by comforting you to the best of his ability, or simply by dragging you away somewhere private to show you how much of an impact you have on him.

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

Izuku is no stranger to insecurities, but they become even more bothersome when it comes to his relationship with you. All in all, he’s a real sweetheart who aims to please, however he finds himself powerless when presented with intrusive thoughts suggesting he’s not good enough for you. Comforting words from you always seems to put those thoughts at ease, but Izuku has found that doing small acts of intimacy for you never fail to make him feel better as a boyfriend.

Izuku’s favorite one by far was taking a bath with you. He knew your week had proved to be particularly stressful; finals, training, and essays to write piling up with each day that passed. Although he did his best to help you with them, at the end of the day your exhausted expression made him realize you needed a serious break from the world. Izuku waited for the weekend to roll around to borrow some candles from his mother, buy some flowers to put in the bathroom, and set a bath to a pleasant lukewarm temperature for your arrival, not to mention politely asking his mother if you could have the house to yourselves for the whole day.

It was awkward, but sacrifices had to be made.

The atmosphere was romantic—the lighting came from the multiple candles strategically scattered around the bathroom, your favorite flowers sat comfortably in a vase near the bathtub, and the water smelled heavenly. Of course Izuku had gotten your favorite essential oils.

His plan wasn’t to hop in with you at first, but the puppy eyes you gave him were something he couldn’t say no to. While in the bath, Izuku pulled you into his arms while he whispered words of comfort to you. It wasn’t something necessarily uncommon or rare for him to do, but adding the whole context into the mix made it all much more special.

Although it might not be the most common way to spice up a relationship, during those minutes he spent in the bathtub with you, nothing else in the world mattered. It was another level of intimacy to be so close to each other, along with having the opportunity to vent and talk to each other about anything that came to your mind.

By the time Inko came back—which was considerably late at night, mind you—she came back to a lovely domestic sight. Both of you were snuggled against each other on the couch wearing Izuku’s cozy clothes (which he insisted looked very cute on you, and rather lame on him), a hero movie playing in low volume on the TV, and both of your towels forgotten in the hallway.

Izuku surely was bound to get a scolding the next day, but in that moment Inko could only smile fondly at the love and affection radiating from the young couple.

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

In order to spice up the relationship, Hitoshi will try his hand at being bolder.

Good luck.

Although he’s not particularly known for being the sweetest boyfriend there is, his way of showing you affection is sure to leave you weak in the knees. Hitoshi lives to see you flustered because of him—especially if he can get you to that state only by using his words. Nevertheless, he lacks expertise in physical affection, and it can be seen the way his movements seem to stutter if you grab his hand or kiss the corner of his lips. Hitoshi soon decided he wouldn’t let you win the war, and therefore started being a tease in public. He might tug on your hand, only to unexpectedly give you a peck on the lips long enough to leave you stunned. Or maybe try to hoist you over his shoulder, determined to show you how his hero training has paid off. And if you try to fight back and respond to his attacks, Hitoshi will make sure to leave dark marks on your neck, high enough to poke out of your shirt. Although that last one might have the specific goal to annoy you more than anything else.

Either way, it’s clear his sudden change of mannerism will definitely liven up your relationship.

It’s also during this trial period—labeled as such because Hitoshi is still experimenting on what you two like and dislike when it comes to pda—that your boyfriend will drop his first ‘I love you’ bomb. The more he loosened up around you, the easier his mind came to accept the fact that what he felt was love. Something he admittedly had never felt for anyone else before.

After that realization, Hitoshi decided he would give it his all to keep the relationship alive, and to keep you happy.

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cavegun6 · 3 years

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Carry out magnetic bracelets aid in arthritis?

Copper bracelet are considered to be able to greatly help reduce the pains and pains of sore and stiff joint parts. However, as yet limited studies have provided some signs to encourage their usage within the medicine , however, more clinical tests have come up informing they don't have any clinical effects. Proponents involving this procedure suggest that the skin absorbs miniature pollution of aluminum. That is subsequently considered to decrease discomfort from the bones, so copper can certainly be an imperative nutrient which capabilities for this special purpose from the system. But , indicators confirming aluminum bracelet being an alternate are exceptionally slim in the globe. This guide will certainly inspect the study to a few pain-relieving possessions of aluminum anklet bracelets and make clear exactly why folks purchase aluminium wristbands for overall health factors. Proof Researchers give a simple but comprehensive Option to this question of aluminum necklaces supplying pain Reduction: ï¿½ there isn't any fantastic facts they lower inflammation or pain. ï¿½ there are strong signs they avoid need any health care influence. A 2013 study trusted source that attained this particular kind of choice compared with different magnetic and aluminum bracelets used by men and women using rheumatoid arthritis symptoms. When there has been a minor scientific advancement of twenty percentage in pain evaluations, the evaluation could have located it but there had not been any progress at all. Dr . Stewart Richmond, that led pre lit the 2013 study by the Workplace of Health Sciences in the School of York found in the United Empire, composed at typically the printed newspaper intended for magnetic bracelet s: "The outcome using the particular study, that in comparison sturdy in contrast to poor magnets restricted directly into the knee, also revealed there wasn't any statistical variance in ache impacts between control and even experimental bands " However, he goes onto express "those who are afflicted from rheumatoid arthritis could be significantly much better away from making their salary or investing throughout additional different solutions, for example for instance, for instance, nutritional fish oils, because ins force, of which may have many outstanding signs for efficacy "

This examination is additionally the particular cornerstone for its Arthritis Foundation's information against utilizing copper bracelets being a new remedy for esophageal irritation. What outward symptoms were quantified inside the 2013 Richmond demo? Bones have been evaluated regarding both discomfort plus handicap. An project was designed to make certain the physician neither the individual may possibly establish the kind of the pendant being exploited out there. If several amount types of bracelets from the demo can create the absolute minimal twenty percentage increase inside swollen and yield joints, then these types of bracelets could have now already been termed as a purposeful indication involving medical efficacy. Regardless of the findings, the trial style and design supposed that indecision may be claimed making use of a lot of guarantee. These institutions might be bolstered even more from the particular organic path involving persistent pain states. Dr . Richmond materials the instance of rheumatoid arthritis, even outlining that folks can begin sporting the aluminum and magnet bracelets" throughout the flareup interval" Since symptoms and irritation detract with time, an individual can"confuse this making use of a curative result" they imagine will be arriving out involving the necklace. "Pa-In changes substantially together with a period within states such as rheumatoid arthritis, and likewise how we understand ache might always be changed greatly by the ability regarding their thoughts, inch Dr. Richmond supplies. The Info about the packing and even promotion may almost never cite Pain-relief, and even also can end up being frequently: ï¿½ Outstanding: "Worn for curing of humankind regarding decades" or even"produced of the Preferred pure aluminum" ï¿½ exact: "Copper will be necessary for the own bodies" or even" that the metal gets a pure capability to run heat" However, elaborate the value of all those 2 different kinds of tips the moment it can come in a few other effect opposite to disorder? Elaborate the significance of this body in any way, if aluminum is worn out such as a pendant? Respectable sellers help to make an effort never to connect these kinds of info for some guideline promises of total health rewards or medical results. That is as it isn't very evidenced any advantageous impact and no true assure, regardless of what the impressiveness or accurate of this info. When honest product notices imply that"most men and women utilize them to their or her well being rewards, " these types of invoices aren't fundamentally proof of efficiency. To acquire a breakdown regarding those remedies which often perform to alleviate Abdominal pain, then click on below. That has been a range associated with efficient all-natural therapies. What folks state As the promises of health convenience provide no genuine proof from these types of, this does not have to be able to be difficult to feel the aluminum bracelets continue to be all working out. Influential family members and friends will be replicating of which the asserts, far way also. ï¿½ The view at the wellness benefits of some medically impartial treatment comes to an end inside the placebo consequence, a correct occurrence where out symptoms may certainly reduce whether a great individual considers that cure is at present exercising

#magnetic bracelets #magnetic therapy bracelets #bracelets #magnetic therapy #magnetic jewelry

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topsmartmirrors2021 · 3 years

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Could Mastercard Clever Mirror Increase Retail Sales For Your Small Business?

While they still offer a valuable purpose when showing your photo back to you, some fashion as well as charm leaders figured that if you included clever modern technology to mirrors, they can elevate the consumer experience. This vision is currently a reality many thanks to the considerable advances that have been made in artificial intelligence, augmented reality, as well as motion recognition technology. These mirrors can adjust your picture, including the clothes you use to your hairdo, hair colour, as well as makeup to create an extremely sensible enhanced representation. If you're focused on skincare, the HiMirror Mini is the wise mirror for you. It has built-in Skin Analyzer innovation to check your skin modifications to produce a far better skin care routine and monitor any enhancements. The Skin Analyzer can additionally save your data as well as use it in a friend app to assist you select the best skin items for your routine. Using a tablet computer as both the display screen as well as the smarts also has a couple of various other advantages. For one point, Glove had the ability to package up the software as an application on the Google Play Shop to make installation easy. And also the application can draw on the tablet's other equipment, like using the cam to find a customer's state of mind and display uplifting comments. Like the instances listed below, there's no touchscreen capability-- and that would certainly want all those finger prints oiling up the mirror anyway? -- yet Braun's idea was to produce a UI that provides a quick-glance introduction of details and also doesn't require much interaction. If he needs to recognize something that's not in one of the widgets, the mirror additionally can access Android's built-in voice search attributes. It makes the most effective possible use time you invest in front of a mirror to boost your health by arranging and improving details from any connected tool, electronic service and also CareOS' very own AI. CareOS is a Baracoda business, led by professionals with years of experience in connected gadgets and wellness, offering assistance to consumers in their bathrooms, hair salons, spas as well as stores. CareOS is the brand-new cutting edge of preventative care, supplying individualized details and tips for a happier as well as healthier life. For instance, a user 720A is standing closer to the smart mirror 700 than a user 720B, and also the size of the interface 710A-710B is different. The range of the user to the clever mirror 700 might be established based on details gotten by one or more sensing units of the clever mirror 700. 5B, the customer 505 is focusing his or her eyes 520B on the representation in the smart mirror 500. The mirror 500 identifies the focal distance of the individual as corresponding to the user interface. In response, the mirror 500 shows the interface 530B in a readily-perceptible or highly-visible manner, as well as presents the representation 540B in an indistinct or less-visible fashion. In the future, the variety of voice commands can be boosted based on demands. Currently, it reveals the date, time, map, news feeds, as well as web traffic and also weather details, among others. " We have actually created the smart mirror in such a way that, based upon an individual's face framework, it can recommend different hairdos, beards, and so on. One can additionally listen to songs while showering, see videos, comics, as well as TELEVISION shows," clarifies Edson. This figure portrays the clever mirror market price worldwide in between 2018 and 2023. In 2018, the worldwide clever mirror market was valued at roughly 2.8 billion U.S. dollars. However, the high starting expense of establishment and safety problems connected to personal and also specific details is relied upon to obstruct the marketplace development. The creating pattern of wise city areas as well as fantastic homes is relied upon to prepare new flexibilities in the keen mirrors market in the approximated period. Europe rules the wise television mirror market, complied with by The United States and Canada, the quickest developing area attributable to a crucial advancement in the car area as well as advertising industry. APAC's smart mirror market has high advancement potential, principally determined by strong financial advancement, increasing people, and fast urbanization based on the Smart Mirror Market. To do this, the mirror makes use of a mix of cutting side cameras, 3D scanners and also sensors and also face acknowledgment when the person checks out it. The mirror determines weight modifications, heart rate, and facial expressions. Smart mirrors aren't quite new, with several trying attention as well as acknowledgment at this year's CES 2020. Yet, one stood apart from the crowd-- transforming the day-to-day bathroom right into a health and wellness as well as health center. The Poseidon clever mirror is powered by CareOS, a health-centric operating system designed to handle wellness information kept locally on the gadget. 19 Waterproof Washroom Mirror Television, Uk Just because you have a tiny shower room doesn't suggest you can not have a beautiful shower room. To aid you transform your shower room, we've pulled together 11 easy tips for making a little washroom look sophisticated. Record Ocean believe in providing the quality reports to customers to satisfy the top line and profits objectives which will certainly improve your market share in today's competitive atmosphere. Waterproof light strip to ensure secure lights in damp restroom settings. Welcome to Online Tech Tips-- A blog that give readers with day-to-day computer system tutorials, modern technology news, software program reviews, as well as individual computer suggestions. We have hundreds of write-ups and also overviews to aid you obtain the most out of innovation. Our short articles have actually been read over 275 million times since we introduced in 2007. Unfortunately, the Byecold does not play songs-- yet you might establish your phone next to the mirror to replicate the exact same result. Framed mirrors with cleaner sides and softer shades work best in contemporary and modern washrooms, and do not have as much individuality as those located in other interior decoration styles. Whatever mounting product you pick, you need to guarantee that it's rated for wetness resistance. It might be appealing to place a decorative, wood-framed mirror right into your washroom because it's visually pleasurable, but it could potentially degrade in the high-humidity setting. In addition to the mounting material, a waterproof mirror will certainly have a backing material that's rated to hold up against wetness exposure. The review of versions, evaluation, as well as market figures was allotted both on an oversized scale as well as at the micro-level. It likewise offers a total idea of the strategies received by the majority of rivals within the company. Other important variables, which act regionally and globally to impact market fads, were consisted of. These variables with a result are the socio-political situation, ecological problems, demographics, lawful organizations, and additionally the competitive environment of the area. It also throws light on the vendor landscape to help gamers familiarize future competitive adjustments in the global Smart Bathroom Mirror market. Discover our clever lighting range, a fantastic and easy means of permitting you to regulate the setting of your home. If your budget includes a new shower, take into consideration going with a totally glass shower. From shower to tub, and also vanity to commode, it can be overwhelming to think about just how to up the luxe aspect without damaging the bank or tearing down some walls. Change your small washroom with these simple adjustments that will immediately add refinement and style. Reducing the carbon impact is a duty that everybody need to be taken into consideration accountable for. It is equipped with integrated Bluetooth speakers to listen to your favorite music while preparing yourself. The LEDs with three color light alternatives allow you to readjust the called for brightness. Equipped with 35 adjustable LEDs and a 10x magnifying mirror, Funtouch smart mirror is just one of the biggest dimension make-up mirrors available out there. It gauges 14.56 × 8.97 in to provide you with an HD clearness wide-angle view. Each one is made by hand by a single master artisan, educated by the master craftsmen who came in the past and authorized by its manufacturer. This human touch is what sets our handmade apart, for an outcome that's stunning, ageless and initial. Changing out your default shower room tapware for something more stylish is a simple, effective means to include beauty to your washroom. An oil diffuser, soft white towels, candles for ambience - these are tiny, easy solutions that can truly assist your washroom look more luxe. Give your washroom a spa-like feeling with dimmer lights to soften the feeling of the area. This not just looks stunning, yet it additionally offers the impression of even more space-- especially when creating a walk-in shower. Vanity Clever Mirror Hands-free Control with Voice Commands Access to basic features using straightforward voice commands. Voice control coupled with dash camera supplies maximum benefit, offering the requirement for hands-free access while driving, using you a secure, comfortable driving environment. 4K Ultra HD Front Recording Includes ultra HD 4K front web cam as well as 1080P back webcam. 4K makes an unbelievable distinction from various other resolution in recording details from range. 8MP Sony STARVIS sensor IMX415 on the front electronic camera boosts night vision efficiently to give sharp evening time video. You will have to make an opening in your wall to attach the mirror. There are apps that can examine your skin, as well as others you can use to track the products you're utilizing, like The first day Journal or SkinSmart. Yet I such as the ease of having an all in one system attached to my mirror. You can utilize a Slide as a basic mirror for when you don't need its clever features, and that experience alone is beautiful. You can transform the lights on and off with a single tap to the rectangular shape cutout at the bottom of the mirror. The lights are bright and also have numerous color temperature choices. The mirror surface area is 8 x 5 inches and flanked by 2 bright LEDs. All of this remains on a stylish plastic base readily available either in white or black which houses the mirror's control switches and also a USB billing port. You obtain all the functionality of an Echo, suggesting that Alexa can manage your various other wise devices, produce suggestions, or read the weather report aloud all from your shower room. When you take the control of wheels, you also take the control of your life and also the lives of others who travel with you. For that reason, it is necessary that your lorry has the right sort of mirrors to promote your journey as well as we discovered the best mirror dash electronic camera for you. The 90+ CRI LED stripping made use of in the mirror are highly energy saving as well as they would certainly last for around 50,000 hrs! So, you need not stress whether your mirror eat excessive power. But after really attempting it, I discovered that I obtained a lot less out of both tasks. When concentrating on my make-up, I frequently zoned out and missed pieces of whatever newspaper article I was hearing. When focusing on Alexa, my make-up procedure was slower, and I made more mistakes. Rather than asking Alexa for the information while waiting for the train, I did so while applying my makeup as well as styling my hair. Ip44 Chrome Brightened Flexible Bathroom Mirror A mirror must be also picked by thinking about the light of the entire room as well as the washroom furnishings, as well as the design of the shower room components, tubs and also showers. When you're looking for a lighted makeup mirror, there are a few details points to keep an eye out for if you want a high-grade choice. " Important functions are dimmable function for illumination as well as a function to alter color temperature level from amazing to cozy orange hues," says Kinjo, whose customers consist of Mindy Kaling, Mary J. Blige, and also Uzo Aduba. They generally have multiple light setups to ensure that you can plainly see your face any time of day. But given that there are a lot of kinds of lighted makeup mirrors available to purchase online, it can be challenging to determine which are really worth purchasing. Set up to purchase at our Rose city factory, our new Greenwich Lighting Collection is influenced by Mid-Century French layouts as well as sets alabaster and opal glass with sophisticated brass building. Our range of electric showers are supplied from trusted brands, consisting of Mira showers, Gainsborough showers and Triton. In glass, metal or coloured finishes, Roca glasses can be set up on the countertop or wall surface hung. With a wall hung or over countertop installment, Roca soap dispensers change the amount of essential soap both in public and also personal restrooms. Roca systems for containers have been developed to allow the setup of wall surface hung designs with undisputed stability. Roca bidet systems have been created to enable the installment of wall surface hung models with the utmost security and also firmness. " For people that take a trip, it can quickly be brought anywhere you go without being a heavy worry." Equipped with 15 LED light bulbs, Fenchilin's lighted make-up mirrorwill illuminate any room many thanks to its wall-mounting abilities and also included base for tabletop usage. " This vanity mirror has the dimmable shade temperature switch," states Kinjo. " It additionally features Bluetooth audio speakers and also USB electrical outlet to plug-in gadgets." That indicates you can easily play music as well as bill your phone while preparing yourself for the day. Exclusions - Please keep in mind these delivery timescales are for UK mainland postcodes just, if you want to have your order delivered to a non UK postal code, added distribution time as well as charges might use. We partner with suppliers who concentrate on environmental duty and also make sure that their methods, processes, resources, as well as items are both lasting and green. Safai Coffee utilizes 100% specialty grade Arabica coffee expanded and also shipped from 11 nations worldwide. Master Roaster Mike Safai visits coffee ranches to construct direct relationships with the farmers. Seek freestanding magnifying mirrors that rest on your vanity as well as adjustable wall-mounted layouts with extendable arms for hands-free convenience. Keep your washroom spick-and-span with this wall mountable folding mirror. The structure and folding arm of the mirror are made with a chrome coating. The wall-mounted mirror in a stylish layout has a definitely variable swivel feature, is collapsible as well as flexible. If space goes to a premium in your area, you can choose elevation over more width as you will certainly gain from the illusion of a bigger space. Unframed as well as downplayed, this sleek bathroom mirror is ideal for opening up your washroom or one more area in your home. This diagonal glass item showcases an oval silhouette, and also it is offered in a number of dimensions to guarantee it fits into the area you desired. 3 common hooks are adhered at the back, so you can place it up and down or horizontally as soon as it reaches your door. What Screen Should I Usage For A Clever Mirror? The mirror that will certainly reveal you what you resemble with face hair resembles a great time as well as could be helpful at the very same time! Selfie Mirror, which, real to its name, makes full-length, hands-free selfies possible. There are several other features of the mirror, yet still, that's probably one for the 'Miss' column. The pictures are not pretty, especially for a pale and dark-circled face such as mine. What that implies is that the items in the section are still significantly hit-or-miss. It is the necessary resource of information and also concepts that understand a world in consistent improvement. The WIRED discussion lights up how modern technology is altering every element of our lives-- from culture to organization, scientific research to style. A large number of DIYers like on your own have actually created their own wise mirrors. Right here is a listing of them with a brief summary of the size and special aspects, etc . If you're seeking a lower-budget alternative, look into Hannah Mitt's open-source HomeMirror project. To reduce expenses she utilized two-way mirrored plastic rather than glass, as well as created the job around an aging Android tablet computer. Go into the very best fitness mirrors, a few of one of the most innovative and also reliable pieces of house exercise technology around. Tonal features a built-in electronic camera, although the firm says it's presently switched off. The camera might be switched on in the future if the business uses a relevant feature, such as individually personal training. Mirror has a "Community Cam" that enables participants to watch their schoolmates and get assistance from instructors. The mirror can furthermore set about as a shopping-related to furnishing you with the choices of numerous hues and dimensions accessible in the store. It goes along with haze safe capacities and also a night highlight so you can have a light when you rise without intruding on your rest cycle. A vanity show is an incredible option for a table-top mirror. It gives you a full, away from with the guarantee of no bending so you can specifically apply cosmetics, tweeze, and also skin care. This website is a cost-free online resource that aims to offer handy content as well as comparison features to its site visitors.

#Smart Mirror

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