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stuhde · 1 year

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i had shared what is happening in sudan on a long facebook post last night, but it virtually received almost little to no engagement or shares from the nearly 600 “friends” i have on the site.

this morning, my great-aunt was shot by the soldiers fighting for power, and God forbid, i lose more of my family members before eid this friday.

please read below to understand what is happening and how you can help my country. i hope the tumblr community can show more kindness than the lack of support and advocacy i’ve seen elsewhere.

يا رب اجعل هذا البلد آمناً 🇸🇩

the lack of awareness and advocacy from the African, Arab, and Muslim diaspora and the human rights community has been painful.

while Western media has done little to no coverage of the ongoing conflict in the capital city of my motherland, Sudan, it appears that the rest of the world also partakes in normalizing crimes and violence against SWANA people.

violence and war hurting the SWANA region are NOT ordinary occurrences — no one, regardless of race, creed, ethnicity, religion, and gender, should experience the unprecedented amount of violence that harms my two living grandmothers, aunts and uncles, and baby cousins who live in Khartoum.

your decision to ignore reading or educating and discussing with others about what is likely to be a civil war is complicity in viewing SWANA people as individuals who regularly experience conflict and are undeserving of help.

the silence is damaging, and it is up to us as privileged members of the diaspora (or individuals living in the Western world committed to human rights) to support the people of my country and their dream for a stable, democratically elected government.

what is happening in Sudan is a fight that started on April 15 between two competing forces for power — the Sudanese Army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) — neither groups are representative of the needs of our people. The Sudan Army is loyal to the dictator, Omar Al-Bashir, and the RSF is responsible for the genocide in Darfur.

with both power struggles backed by different Arab and Gulf nations, the two parties have been fighting for power for the last few years. While they worked together to try and end the people’s revolution, they lost. however, they are now in a constant power play of who will get to rule the nation.

this all means that war is NOT a reflection of my country — violence does not represent the SWANA people. Sudan is a nation of beautiful culture, strong women, intellectual and influential Islamic scholars, poets, and youth at the front lines of the revolution. we are a people committed to a region of peace for ourselves and the rest of the Ummah.

my family and the rest of Sudan’s innocent civilians are at the most risk, with many currently without drinking water, food to eat, electricity, and complete blockage to any mosques during the final nights of Ramadan, our holiest month of the year.

i ask that you please keep Sudan and our people in your prayers — donate to the Sudan Red Crescent or a mutual aid GoFund Me, email your representatives if you live in a country that can put pressure on either competing force of power, discuss this with your family and friends, and please do not forget to think about SWANA people — our brothers and sisters in Syria, Yemen, Lebanon, and many others need our love and support.

الردة_مستحيلة ✊🏾

#KeepEyesOnSudan

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percervall · 11 months

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sometimes you break so beautiful

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x fem!reader Words: 1800 Warnings: Ferrari being Ferrari, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, light choking, so many alliterations

In which Carlos just wants to forget The Belgian Grand Prix

---

The moment you see the replay of the collision between your boyfriend and Oscar, you know it’s a done race. You hear his engineer confirm the damage and the effect of it on the aerodynamics of the car and your heart sinks. This should have been his race, starting fifth but yet again you feel the quiet resignation settle in your bones when you realise Ferrari are miles away from giving these boys the car they deserve. It’s a mystery to you why they keep Carlos out on the track as he continues to slip further down, an anger blazing through you at the torture they’re subjecting him to, until they finally decide to retire the car on lap 25. All you can do is watch him climb out of his Ferrari, your hands clenched in front of your chest. You reach out a hand, brushing against his arm as he walks past you. Carlos gives your hand a squeeze without meeting your eyes, but he’s telling you all you need to know about how he’s feeling. During the remaining 19 or so laps you keep an eye on him as he shuts the world out with the Ferrari headphones and quickly debriefs his engineer in rapid Italian. He won’t show his emotions, not with all the cameras around, but you can tell by the way his jaw is set and his posture that he is suffering, quietly, waiting until he’s away from prying eyes to fall apart.

In the end, him falling apart doesn’t happen until you’re back in the hotel. Sometimes the post-race engagements and responsibilities are more exhausting than the race itself, especially with all the social media content nowadays. Charles shoots you a worried glance as the three of you exit the lift.

“I’ve got him,” you whisper, giving him a kiss on the cheek as you turn left to head to your room. Carlos has already unlocked the door to your shared hotel room and has finally found some reprieve from the public. When you shut the door behind you, you find him sat on one of the chairs, head in his hands. Taking off your coat and shoes, you make your way over to him, pulling him against you. With a shuddering breath, Carlos wraps his arms around your waist as he burrows his face against your stomach. You swallow down your own feelings about this season and run your fingers through his hair. Carlos’ shoulders shake with silent sobs as his tears soak through your shirt. This is more than just one bad race, more than a less than ideal car; This is months of fighting to be heard by the engineers, of dealing with contract uncertainties, of playing second fiddle, of being pushed past his breaking point.

“What do you need?” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Help me forget.. Please, I just need to stop thinking,” comes his answer as he looks up at you, those big brown eyes glimmering with unshed tears, voice breaking. You rest your palms against his cheeks, brushing away the tears with your thumb, before leaning forward and kissing him softly.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, echoing your promise to Charles, your heart breaking into pieces when his eyes fill with equal parts hope and heartache. Carlos allows you to pull him to his feet and move him towards the bathroom. While you turn on the shower, Carlos begins to undress. As soon as his shirt drops to the floor, he’s on you, still wearing his trousers as needy fingers find their way under your shirt, pulling it up and over. You’re quick to raise your arms, allowing him to undress you as you do the same for him in return. Taking his hand, you pull him under the spray of the shower, hissing as the hot water hits your skin. Carlos wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back as he buries his face in your neck. Turning around in his arms, you kiss him, pouring all the love you have for him into that kiss. Carlos sighs against your lips, some of the tension easing out of his tensed muscles. He makes this pained noise in the back of his throat as he moves you back until you end up against the wall. He breaks the kiss and the look he gives you steals the breath from your lungs. His lips are parted, cheeks flushing already with both the heat from the shower and arousal, but his eyes betray just how conflicted he’s feeling; there’s a mixture of trepidation and need.

“I can take it, let me carry it,” you soothe him, fingers smoothing out the lines on his face. Yet another wall seems to crumble down as he dives in for another kiss. His hand rests against your jaw as the other grips your hip. You can tell he’s holding back –there’s a fury simmering in his body now that the edge of sadness has dissipated.

“I need you to use me,” you whisper, tugging on his hair to break the kiss. He lets out the most beautiful moan at the pain and the last shred of self control snaps. Carlos tightens his grip on your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pins you in place with his own body, trapping his now hard cock between the two of you. You can feel him throb against your stomach and it has you clenching in anticipation. Usually Carlos is a tender lover, always making sure he makes you feel so, so good. But when he gets like this –when there’s pent up frustration simmering just below the surface, he becomes the most greedy and just takes and takes and takes.

His lips find the pulsepoint behind your ear, sucking a bruise onto your skin. You hiss at the sting, tilting your head to grant him better access. Carlos hums and continues his assault, leaving hickeys and bites across your clavicle and down to the swells of your breasts. His hips thrust up as you whimper when his teeth graze over your collarbone. He slides the hand holding your hip down, parting your folds to find you already wet for him.

“Always ready for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs against your skin and all you can manage to reply is a whispered yes as he slides the tip of his finger inside of you. The intrusion has you panting, swallowing around a moan as he slowly fucks you, thumb lightly pressed against your clit. It’s enough to have you throbbing but not enough to alleviate the ache.

“Please..” you whisper, desperation already setting in. You can feel him smirk against your skin as he rubs fast circles against your clit. This is not about your pleasure, this is purely him strumming your body in preparation for what he has in store for you. The steam of the shower that’s still running makes it hard to think as lust clouds your brain the way the vapour steams up the shower screen and mirror.

“That’s it, mi vida… Let go for me,” Carlos whispers in your ear and something just snaps as you fall over the edge.

Heart still hammering against your chest, you have become putty in his hands as Carlos turns you around. The cold tile makes for a welcome contrast against your heated skin, fingers desperate to find purchase against their wet surface.

“Joder,” you hear him whisper, hands roughly kneading your cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed as you push back against him.

“Need-.. Please.. Need it..” you mumble, arching your back even more. Realistically you know this will hurt, your body not ready to accommodate his size –not like this at least– but at this point you no longer care it will ache come morning. You will gladly hurt for this stunning man, who holds both unbridled joy and brooding darkness so beautifully it makes you dizzy with how much you love him, if it means he won’t –not for a few hours at least. The stretch of him slowly entering you has you keening and you throb around him as Carlos gives you a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, so tight,” he rasps, lips against the shell of your ear. You can only nod, holding yourself up with one arm as the other comes to rest on the hand still holding your hip. Giving his wrist a squeeze you wordlessly let him know it’s okay, that you won’t break. You swear you can almost hear him grit his teeth, his grip on your body tightening as he fucks into you; long strokes at first until your body goes pliant and he does as you told him: he uses your body to fuck all his frustration out of his system. The angle allows Carlos to brush against that spot inside of you with the head of his cock, setting your body alight with pleasure. He gives you none of the usual praise, just an unrelenting pace as one of his hands wraps around your throat and pulls you flush against him. The weight of his hand is enough to have you clenching around him, your second orgasm approaching rapidly. Carlos bites down on where your shoulder meets your neck, his hips stuttering as he comes with a muffled groan. It’s enough to send you flying as well, a sob tearing itself from your throat as you come so hard, your vision blurs.

Carlos removes his hand from your throat, wrapping the arm around your chest instead as he holds you up. You let out a whimper as Carlos pulls out, allowing him to turn you back to face him and move you back under the spray of the water. As you’re coming down from your high, Carlos takes care of you, gently cleans both of you before shutting the shower off. After drying yourself, you wrap the towel around your body, twisting your still damp hair up into a messy bun. He takes your hand and both of you move to the bed, exhaustion hitting you hard. You sigh as your body relaxes into the soft sheets, Carlos’ body curling around yours as he presses himself against your back. You turn in his arms, brushing wet strands of his hair back as you look at him.

“Thank you, amor,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“I love you,” you murmur back, snuggling further into your boyfriend. You know he will be apologetic in the morning when he takes stock of the bruises decorating your skin, but you will gladly become a canvas for him to process his grief and anger knowing he would offer you the same in return.

Wrote this pretty much in one sitting and it's barely edited. After struggling to write anything for the past month, this just poured out of me. Guess I need to literally suffer for my art, thanks Ferrari.

This fic existing is thanks to @curiousthyme and @moneyymaseyy, there's no one I'd rather watch F1 (suffer through Ferrari) with

Please feel free to let me know what you think, your comments, tags and likes means the absolute world to me

#f1 fanfic #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr smut

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milla984 · 8 months

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And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants.

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked.

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock.

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit.

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.”

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.”

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on.

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.”

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure.

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you.

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke.

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name.

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member.

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

“When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud.

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—”

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering.

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you.

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you.

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do.

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #my gifs #milla writes stuff #mentioningmargins #there are references from a couple of other tv shows hidden in this work #feel free to let me know if you can find them #quot “i understood that reference”

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sapphicnsh · 1 month

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@irishplaguedoctor Shit’s fucked, but thankfully not that fucked. Sig didn’t want Moon to worry, but he couldn’t hide it forever, and forced her hand. Moon has never used her seniority privileges like this, she thinks using them is violating and wrong, but at this point she had no choice.

(transcript below the cut)

“No! No no no, fuck no. I would never.

It was an equipment manifest Moon wanted me to send. I refused, I didn’t want her to see it. She didn’t want to, but she forced it with her seniority privileges.

…It was stupid of me to hide it.”

NSH: EQUIPMENT MANIFEST

SEVERE CHEMICAL IMBALANCE. FOREIGN BODIES DETECTED. CRITICAL IMMUNE RESPONSE DISPATCHED.

[!! WARNING !!] VIRAL BODIES DETECTED IN CONDUITS: 03, 04, 07, 13, 18, 19, 20, 21.

EM: Rapid system-wide flush will be immediately scheduled for infected nodes. Increased water intake may lead to dangerous pressure levels.

EM: System-wide damage to code detected. Internal memory conflux has been damaged or corrupted.

[IMMEDIATE SYSTEM RESET REQUIRED. A FATAL ERROR HAS OCCURRED.]

#rain world #rain world downpour #no significant harassment #rain world au #rw NSH #rw #rot au #my art #lol i just had to answer this with a lil thing i got too excited #this happens after sliver’s death btw. hence sig’s um. less than enthusiastic attitude

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witchofthesouls · 7 months

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Can we pretty please hear more about Soundwave and Engineer in G1? I really want to know what kind of horny seeker nonsense they have to put up with.

"If the alphabet could be rearranged, why not 'u' and 'i' together?"

You blink at Skywarp, who refuses to budge from the wall, taking up all the space with his wingspan. Its glossy shine is so new and fresh that it catches prettily even with the dim and damaged lighting.

"Mmm," you pretend to consider the proposal, "How about 'n' and 'o'?"

He frowns back. "But that's spells 'no' and it's already together?"

"Exactly." You reply blandly, dipping your digits into his shoulder to pinch a nervecircuit, and he grunts in response as you shove forward into the elevator. “Rule five of the manuel: Don't fix what's not broken.”

Of course, he follows inside, clenching and unclenching his fist to get the feeling back in his arm and hand.

“Okay, how about this one: Are you a medic because my fuel pump is failing!”

“I’m not that kind of engineer."

"That's alright." He says with a crooked smile of sharp denta. Strangely endearing. "I know I'm in good hands."

You bark out a short laugh. Alright, that's the smoothest from him.

Before the door shuts, a familiar flat arm catches it, and your Soundwave walks inside. With incredible willpower, you don't roll your optics when he purposely stands in the middle, and you definitely don't smile when Skywarp pouts for the entire ride.

_______

One would think being sucked into an alternate reality would be exciting, but right now you're buried under mountains of maintenance reports, repair backlogs, supply requisitions, and hazard warnings.

You will blame the split-spark carriage for the onset of tears and the necessary ten minute private sob in a dipitulated supply closest because fucking Pits! You're standing in knee-high water-logged damages!

It's not the same Constructicons you once taken orders, but you're familiar enough with their quirks as you get settled and start on the more mundane tasks of clearing the hallways and getting the drainage systems up and running.

"Hello, handsome," you hear Zolo pur from above. Large and gravid, you may be, you're still able to shimmy your way into the walls unlike the Vehicon above, nor would she be able to reach the relay.

Hence, why you're in the walls, much to Laserbeak's grave displeasure. Not only did the drone peck your neck, she perched over the opening, balefully glaring down. And the blocking entrance.

You immediately get a spark attack when Skywarp's face and his upper body suddenly appear next to you. The magnets hold when you move to swing. Of course, the slagger vops away and reappears halfway through the bulkhead after a moment. “Fancy meeting you here! Did you fall and need help?”

It's hard to say who screeches the loudest: you, Laserbeak, Zolo, Thrust, or Scrapper at the resulting inner bulk damages.

_______

You're having a moment with Soundwave. Outside with fresh air. Unlike the Nemesis back home, this warship is situated all the way on the seafloor.

You never thought you would miss dirt and rocks, but it's dry and warm, especially with Soundwave next to you as you curl onto your side with a data-cable loosely wrapped around your midsection, connective feelers lazily spread across your plating, nudging into the exposed seams to buzz over the protoform.

The peace is shattered with several consecutive booms overhead.

"Autobots!?" You immediately sit up, and isn't that a surprise? The 'bots in this dimension still had fliers.

Soundwave is unfazed and simply pointed to skyline. On his visor, there are rapid captions of the Coneheads.

You stare at them, watching the maneuvers as they jet into various formations of amazing feats of aerial agility and unity. "Is this a training strip? I thought it was a deserted island?"

Soundwave doesn't respond. Instead, he picks you up and calculates a ground bridge away. It's even sunnier than the last, so you can't really complain.

_______

If you didn't know better, you would think Soundwave is jealous. He isn't as calm as people think he is, but it isn't jealousy that has him hanging in your periphery or leaving tall-telling marks on your frame and your legs shaky from post-facing, carriage-induced bliss.

It's a weird territorial thing between fliers.

Specifically: Seekerkin.

It would have been hilarious if only you weren't the prize between winged, feral cats.

This isn't a mechling's romantic fantasy of multiple suitors vying for their spark. It's honestly exhausting, especially since more than one Seeker enjoys manhandling you away from work, the elevators, the bridge, and anywhere else that isn't near Thundercracker and a blanket pile.

And you allow it because the only serious attempt you tried to ward one of them away with a taser with an output to put down a convoy, it caused a riot.

Or at least that's what Hook said, you have no idea. One moment you had Dirge lunging after you, armor smoking, and talons out; the next moment you wake up in an unknown room inside a criss-cross of data-cables and stuffed full by Soundwave.

(Your jaw ached and you couldn't walk straight for a few days, and sitting was completely out of the question.)

You're trying to free a limb from the mass of blankets, and you immediately have every single pair of Air Force wings flicking towards you. They seem to overtake and/or bully out all the occupants from the nearby tables. You can smell the expensive polish, even from a distance.

“I should get back to work.” Your words are muffled as you finally wriggle out a hand and start pulling and pushing to freedom.

“Oh no,” Thundercracker demurred, calm as always and not helping by placing another cube in front of you. “Starscream approved of you having a longer rest time, especially with your complications.”

You have no idea what kind of blackmail or leverage the blue Seeker has because the rest of the Air Force is in his hands. None of the others dare to approach the table of just you and him.

All of the other mechs were willing to pit themselves between Skywarp and your Soundwave, but if there's Thundercracker in the vicinity? An immediate "no go" zone.

"Have you had a nursery shower yet?" Thundercracker asks as he adds something to your cube. It tastes zangy with the additional cobalt and mercury.

"Nursery shower?" You feel damned because your comms (you had never passed it out, so someone snitched) is immediately flooded.

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shini--chan · 1 year

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Hey! Just want to start this off by saying that your blog is amazing! So a couple of years ago I had this medical emergency that caused a cist on my ovary to rupture, the symptoms were similar to appendicitis with high fever, dry heaving and rapid dehydration. How would America, England, Germany and Spain react to their s/o falling so ill, that they would need immediate medical attention? Especially if they let it get to a point where s/o passes out due to the stress and pain.

Sheesh, I hope you had a good recovery and are doing well at the moment. Also – Thank you ;P

Yandere Hetalia – Plaster on a gunshot wound

America

Alfred would be very lassie-faire towards the whole situation. If questioned, then he would simply responded that he was seen his sh!t and that what would be happening at the moment is tame in comparison to stuff that he already expertised. He would provide first-aid himself – determined to have as few people involved as possible because he would want to be seen as your hero. Other people preforming heroism would only scratch at his ego.

However it would quickly turn out that it would be best not to trust Alfred in medical emergencies, especially when it concerns somebody that he is so heavily attached to. He would start fumbling, snapping at everybody around him, and it would take a lot of talking to make him back-off and let the professionals do their job.

There would be the danger that he would inflict permanent damage, or even jeopardise your life – that is how much he would want to be the one to save you. That is how much he would balk at the idea of letting anybody close to you.

England

Like his son, he would be prideful and want to do all the work himself. Unlike Alfred, Arthur would be pragmatic enough to let professional people step in. In Arthur’s case, he wouldn’t do things by halves – either he would take full responsibility for your care, or he would contact an acquaintance to tend to you.

You were breathing shallowly, skin light green. Arthur checked you in the rear mirror every couple of seconds, his brow furrowing in frustration. If anything, this whole situation annoyed him more than causing him to panic. In hindsight, he had been too callous in his punishment of you. He shouldn’t have deprived you of water for so long. Yet he also blamed you – this all could have been avoided if you hadn’t made him so irate by spitting into his tea.

Sighing, he fished his phone out of the side compartment and scrolled through his contact list. Staring at his phone while driving was mighty irresponsible, however, if anybody ever chided him on that, he would just snap back that he had been driving cars since they were invented, and if anybody knew how to drive while distracted, it would be him.

Finally finding the contact he need, he called, pressing the phone against his ear. While striving to be up-to-date with cutting edge technology, he still couldn’t really befriend the speaker system. Besides, he didn’t want to wake you up.

“Hello Mr Kirkland, what can I do for you?”

“Alberton! Now I would normally love to do some chit-chat with you before going to the meat of the issue but this is an emergency. I have a very dehydrated youngster on the backseat, passed out even.”

“Alright, I’ll prepare a room.”

“That’s a lad. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

The person, he would take you too would be a medical professional in Arthur’s trust, discreet so that the treatment wouldn't show up in any records, not the sort to ask any questions or to help you.

Germany

In your case, it would most likely due to an illness and accident, since Ludwig wouldn’t lay a hand on you. If anything, it would take a lot to provoke his wrath. That is of course, if we are talking about post-1945 Ludwig. The pre-1945 Ludwig would be a different story where we won’t go into further detail in this post.

Would be take care of you to the best of his ability before the incident, making sure you eat healthy and get a lot of exercise. If he wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, then he would just call a house doctor and have you treated at his house. If that wouldn’t be the case, then he would drive you to a private hospital, and pay a handsome sum to have you treated and to ensure their silence.

This could be your chance to escape, and should the hospital staff not buy into his tall tales, they could even help you escape. Though Ludwig would be there as well, and if allowed, he would request to sleep in the same room as you.

Spain

His first reaction would be to have ten seconds of panic and then go to business. He would ring up one of his friends to bring a van with medical equipment and have you treated at his place. If the medical stuff wouldn’t fit into the living space, then you would be shoved into the van. Being immortal, he would know that his view of humans is skewed and that he would just end up doing something wrong if he would take the matter in his own hands.

During your recovery he would dote on you and also take the opportunity to illustrate this as a reason that you need him. Antonio would tell you stories of people that died alone and were eaten by their pets. And of people that died alone and were only discovered by the stench the emitted. What would you have done if it weren’t for him?

If the both of you weren’t living in the city already, then he would move to the city. That way, if something were to occur again, he would be close to help. Of course, that is only if you were to behave.

#yandere hetalia #yandere america #yandere england #yandere spain #yandere germany #x reader #yandere hetalia x reader

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fatehbaz · 2 years

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We live on Twana and S’Klallam land in the foothills of the Olympic Mountains. This ecosystem -- once a dynamic forest tended to by people, elk, bears, eagles, beavers, and salmon -- is now a patchwork of tree plantations, off-grid homes, and clearcuts (results of logging practices in which all trees in an area are uniformly cut down). A century of white settlement, logging, and cattle grazing on the land we now tend has resulted in a wetland dominated by invasive grasses, stands of second-growth conifers, and a west-facing slope clearcut in 2014. Above us lies a commercial tree plantation owned by Rayonier, a timber company which exploits 2.7 million acres. [...]

Gardening here is an experience of contradictory timescales. On the one hand, the disintegration of the American empire, strained food systems, and accelerating climate change create a visceral urgency to grow food and unlearn dependencies on ecological and cultural devastation. On the other hand, we are engaged in a long, slow project of gardening this place.

It takes time to know the soil, to orient toward the long-term viability of plant, nonhuman animal, fungal, microbial, mineral, and human life.

We could grow more food, faster, if we indiscriminately cleared and tilled the land. Instead, we are urgently insisting on our relational techniques: facilitating decay, storing rain, plucking slugs off cotyledons. We strive not to force the land to be what it isn’t. We are urgently trying to feed future people, cultivating what we call, citing James C. Scott, “fugitive biodiversity.”

-------

Our efforts take place in a sloping clearcut -- the sunniest spot on the land, damaged by logging. As beneficiaries of extractive colonialism, the least we can do is attempt repair. Slopes are difficult to farm; standard practices lead to rapid topsoil loss, erosion, and water runoff. Our guiding principles are to instead build soil and retain water. Growing food is secondary, in the short-term sense, but primary in the longer [...]. We clear terraces on contour, planting them with trees and shrubs that build soil, retain moisture, and add leaf-litter and shade. By hand-clearing, we can remove invasive blackberries, but preserve the still-present native plants. The red huckleberry, mahonia, and nettles that grow here are as much a part of our present and future food system as the apples, hazelnuts, and serviceberries that we introduce.

Terracing with our footsteps reminds us that the trees are terracing with their roots, shifting our ontology of land.

Being in good relation to this place requires observation and commitment. This spot, where stumps left by logging have slowly decomposed, is rich and moist with humus; this other spot, compacted by logging trucks, is anaerobic clay.

-------

Growing food in this way is aspirational and experimental. Ironically, the slowness of our future subsistence tethers us more to the present capitalist food system. We feel the pinch of inflation as we are forced to purchase what we cannot produce, while our earliest crops won’t bear for years. It is disorienting and contradictory [...]. Perhaps our best intentions of undoing the culture we live in will wither through the contradictions of ownership; perhaps the hazelnut trees will die, or the winters will be too warm for the apples to fruit. In our best dreams this land becomes a vibrant food forest, its bounty accessible through knowledge, entanglement, and responsibility, unmarketable but nourishing, rooted in sharing. If we fail, we hope that our trees, the soil sponge and leaf litter, the flowering currant and the huckleberries, will contribute their nutrients, their energy, and their slow decay to the ongoing subsistence and metabolism of this place.

-------

Text by: Anonymous Gardeners in the Olympic Mountains. In a compilation of stories contributed by authors listed as: Anonymous farming collectives. In: “Planting and Becoming”. e-flux journal #128. June 2022.

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invested-in-your-future · 6 months

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The Nature of The Grimm

While it's common to refer to the apparitions as The Grimm, the the word itself refers to a substance or energy rather than a creature. The exact classification of its form is currently unknown, as The Grimm can't be detected or directly observed. It's impossible to touch, interact with, or perceive it, but heightened levels of it are considered lethal to all known life.

The unknown element can't be photographed or observed in any way, shape or form.

Prolonged exposure to elevated levels of The Grimm can lead to fatigue, altered perception of time, paranoia, permanent aura collapse, organ failure, rapid cell decomposition, deteriorating cognitive functions and, likely, other undetermined psychological and physiological effects.

The only known effective way of detecting The Grimm is by observing other environmental factors in the target area. A substantial change in environmental conditions might often indicate rising levels of The Grimm (Ex: Rising temperatures in cold climate locales or falling temperatures in warmer, a drop in humidity(due to rapid evaporation of water), fluctuating oxygen levels, sudden and drastic animal migration, or area-wide extinction of specific types of flora ).

However, those changes can also be attributed to other factors (Ex: The environmental change caused by the Scarring of Vacuo during the Great War has nothing to do with The Grimm).

The hard-to-define characteristics of The Grimm have forced the Kingdoms to rely on monitoring the Creatures as a warning sign instead.

The spread of the unknown element is directly tied to the Creatures of the Grimm, as these apparitions, by just existing within the area seem to cause the background levels of The Grimm to spike substantially. Thus, eradicating The Creatures in the area is one of the most common approaches in combatting spread.

The more long-lived the Grimm, the stronger the Grimm spike it elicits. The quantity of the creatures in the area also affects the spread.

The Grimm is thought responsible for multiple extinct types of flora and fauna of Remnant. All known cases are detailed within the Extinction Record, an encyclopedia of extinct species and Kingdoms that is being kept within Eternal City.

According to the information available, if Remnant were to be treated as a continuous living system, it's fair to view The Creatures of the Grimm as a sign of infection. Any Creatures of Grimm detected are a direct threat to the well-being and long-term survival of the entire ecosystem and thus need to be eradicated on sight.

In turn, that makes the existence of the Huntsmen all the more crucial.

The Environmental Effects & Accumulation of The Grimm

The increasing background levels of Grimm don't just lead to the appearance of the apparitions but also have significant negative effects on the local ecosystem. Since The Grimm in higher doses is lethal to living beings, it's not uncommon for plant and animal life to die out - the eventual result is a barren area incompatible with life itself.

The Neverlands

When a specific threshold is crossed, the area in the vicinity is damaged, turning into what is most often referred to as The Neverlands. Beyond mere damage to flora and fauna, the Grimm begins to affect other aspects of the environment and even laws of physics.

The areas have tendency to expand reacting to outside stimuli because it's not uncommon for the Creatures of Grimm of to rush from these zones and into surrounding areas.

As of 797 E.A there are detected areas of The Neverlands within each of major continents.

The current observable spread of the Neverlands.

Common factors of the Neverlands include:

Highly Lethal levels of The Grimm - The deeper layers of The Neverlands contain levels of The Grimm that can lead to instant death. Most subjects tend to expire within 48 hours since exposure.

Presence of the more ancient Grimm types like The Goliaths.

Altered sensory functions - Auditory and visual hallucinations are common. As is the possibility of complete loss of taste and smell. The notes from the few conducted expeditions to the outer layers of The Neverlands territories also describe vivid hallucinations and whispers. Reigning theory suggests a link to the Grimm's effects on the human brain.

Gravity Anomalies - The Observation of the deeper layers indicates the existence of a phenomenon where gravity seems to stop working or significantly weakens. How that correlates to the spread of The Grimm is unknown.

Laws of Physics - A single expedition to the Neverlands depths conducted on the Continent of Solitas has revealed a more exotic effect upon reality. From the data of an Observational Device sent into the deeper layers, the influence of the Grimm goes deeper than thought before. The Device seems to have inconsistencies in the essential location, temperature, movement, and gravity data. The Device damage also defies conventional logic. The effects altogether seem to suggest an impossible idea of The Grimm affecting basic concepts like space or even laws of physics. The effect possibly indicates concepts like space, the passage of time, energy, gravity, and others being affected. See the full report for a more detailed presentation of data.

Known recent expansions of The Neverlands zones:

The Third Crusade, 430 E.A

The Great War, 714 - 717 E.A

The Fall of Beacon, 796 E.A

The Grimm, (Creatures of)

Commonly known as the Creatures of the Grimm, these beings are hostile apparitions that defy common sense, going against principles of both behavior and physiology.

The Creatures of Grimm, contrary to living beings, don't need sustenance to survive, which indicates that they consume their victims solely to kill them.

The Creatures of Grimm don't sleep, although some types can imitate animal sleep cycles - the reason behind that is unknown.

From the available data, The Creatures of the Grimm have three driving factors:

Continuous survival and spread - The Creatures of Grimm, at base level, function like an instinctual hivemind, with the primary goal being spreading over a location, prioritizing continuous existence of the whole. A more long-lived Creature of Grimm will prioritize survival, adaptation and evolution over its other driving factors. Whether a concept of individual self exists among the apparitions is currently unknown.

Annihilation of humans - The Creatures of Grimm primarily target only Humans and the Faunus. Environment might suffer from their presence, but that's more due to it overlapping with their primary driving factors, as well as the destructive nature of The Grimm.

Negative Emotions - Alongside the five senses, The Grimm function on an empathic level as the Creatures can detect strong surges of emotion, specifically negative emotion, from their targets. The attraction to negative emotion might be more akin to compulsory instinct than an intentional action being taken.

The body of a Grimm is actually made up out of concentrated element of the Grimm, held together into a specific form by yet undetermined force. The Creatures of Grimm don't have conventional biological organs, nervous system or anything else tied to the concept of a living being, yet they seem to be capable of using most of their senses (or at least capable of imitating the process).

Since it's not a living being, the apparition can't be killed. A Creature of Grimm "dies" when sufficient damage is dealt to its form - doing which breaks down it's coherence, making the element that the form consists of fall apart.

The Grimm, in small quantities, doesn't seem to accumulate. In fact the detectable environmental factors seem to decrease after the apparition falls apart, meaning the material dissipates. As further research into the nature of the Grimm is impossible, it's currently unclear why disrupting it's form makes the substance dissipate rather than persist.

Further research into the apparition composition is made impossible due to the fact that the Grimm tend to dissolve after death or even when under prolonged captivity.

Adaptation and Evolution

According to the analysis of the available data, The Creatures of Grimm display an extraordinary degree of adaptability as well as innate survival instinct. The apparitions exhibit unparalleled ability to process information and learn, exceeding that of human beings several times.

An average apparition can significantly increase its efficiency within a few survived encounters. For example an apparition that continuously faces ranged attacks will have honed its ability to dodge projectiles within one or two encounters.

The level of proficiency the apparitions can develop in repeated combat encounters is one of the reasons why Huntsmen weaponry is encouraged to be flexible, allowing them to switch up tactics on the go, which expands the range of actions a Huntsman can take as well as minimizes the risk of the targets surviving the encounter. It's highly recommended to ensure none escape.

The cycle of the apparitions is thus defined by their accumulation of experience.

Regular Grimm

The default beginning stage of the Creatures of Grimm. The Regular Grimm can be classified in different ways:

According to form: Preternaturalistic-type (the apparitions that mimic birds, animals or plants) or Fabulistic-type (reminiscent of mythology, folklore, concepts and ideas)

According to function: Predator-type (the apparition types that follow more destructive patterns following their basic instinct of killing humans) or Instigator-type (the apparition types that prioritize survival and that cause emotional disbalance and attract other apparitions),

Alpha Variants

If to exclude the Irregular Grimm, as the apparition accumulates experience through the years, its form might experience slight alterations - an indication of the shift towards the Alpha status. An Alpha is merely a term used to describe a long-lived form of the specific apparition type that has developed a more refined approach to combat and poses a significantly higher level of threat. Alpha encounters are rare, as one of the common reasons for an apparition's survival is its ability to remain undetected for longer periods.

It's not uncommon for an Alpha to defy the logic and patterns of its original form - for example, animal apparitions might develop into Alpha versions with mythological features. The exact nature of this alteration is unknown.

The Alphas also commonly hostile to their own kind.

On the grander scale of things, an Alpha is merely an intermediary stage lasting centuries that likely leads to the final known step in the apparition's existence - the Ancient Grimm.

The Ancient Grimm

The Ancient Grimm is the theoretical final stage of the apparition lifespan.

Details are unclear on how the Ancient Grimm came to be, but it is a generally accepted fact that these instances of apparitions are likely hundreds, if not thousands of years old.

The Ancient Grimm are generally only observed residing within the Neverlands areas. They don't seem to respond to most of the more common stimuli the apparitions react to and instead follow their logic, which is, for now, incomprehensible to modern science.

It is a commonly accepted fact that the Ancient Grimm seems to have some level of intelligence, being able to judge their chances of survival and engage in some degree of planning.

A significant surge in negative emotions, however, has been shown to cause them to move, as displayed by the Fall of Beacon, as well as the Breach of Mantle.

The commonly discovered strains of the Ancient Grimm are:

The Goliaths - the land-based Ancient Grimm that have been sighted on the continents of Solitas and Sanus.

The Leviathans - the sea-based Ancient Grimm. Last known recorded sighting in 790 E.A within the ocean region of The Depths. Multiple unconfirmed sailor sightings since then.

The Behemoths- the land-based reptile-esque Ancient Grimm that can be seen roaming the Neverlands areas of Vacuo.

There are likely other undiscovered types of the Ancient Grimm, like the unconfirmed reports of spider-like Ancient Grimm in the Menagerie area. The nature of the Neverlands makes it near impossible to detect any of the types possibly existing in the deeper layers.

All known types of the Ancient Grimm seem to share multiple common traits:

Extreme Durability - It is generally accepted fact that the Ancient Grimm are highly resilient. The last known confrontation with The Goliath happened during Breach of Mantle. As per data available, 126 individuals laid down their lives to kill one of The Goliath.

Intelligence - It's unknown how intelligent the Ancient Grimm are, but the fact that they don't act on instinct and seem to be able to judge their survival chances indicates it's there. The Leviathans also seem to be able to avoid research and military vessels, if the sailor sightings are to be taken as fact.

High-density of The Grimm - An Ancient Grimm accelerates the accumulation of The Grimm exponentially, poisoning the land with each step.

Hard-to-define behavioral patterns - Most of the Ancient Grimm seem to stay within The Neverlands, but their behavior is a mystery. Some have been observed to move between specific locations for no apparent reason, while others will actively hunt down regular Grimm in the area. The behavior of the Ancient Grimm has puzzled most scientists for ages.

In more than one way, the Ancient Grimm remain a mystery. The common course of action when encountering one of the Ancient Grimm is to avoid confrontation unless necessary firepower and manpower is available.

The Unknown & The Myth

Due to the elusive nature of The Grimm, the exact specifics of the threat are still unknown, despite humanity having faced it since the dawn of Ever After.

The unknown nature of the apparitions has caused many rumors and folk tales to spread, whether unscientific rumors, conspiracy theories, or cryptozoological fakes.

The Creatures of Grimm do feature in multiple ancient myths, but the validity of the said mythos is impossible to determine. Each region has its own tales of unconfirmed sightings (collectively called Fables) as well as legends. However, there's no scientific basis in the mythological concepts like the Evergrimm. And the cryptozoological sightings like the Kingdom of Mistral's The Wanderer almost always turn out to be elaborate hoaxes. The majority of the tales like that should, by all accounts, be taken with a grain of salt.

#rwby #rwbyr stuff mine #rwby au #rwby rewrite #just one loredump of the many with some plot teases alongside for good measure #rwbyr lore

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 11 days

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Fiocruz magazine highlights climate crisis and tragedy in southern Brazil

The water invaded municipalities in Rio Grande do Sul, turned the streets into rapids, flooded and swept away everything in its path. In the images published in Brazil and around the world, it could be seen the population stunned by the destruction. People and animals were swallowed up by the advancing rivers and tributaries, many were marooned and waited for uncertain help. As the water took a long time to recede, it was difficult for residents to gauge what they had lost or what was left of their homes. The level of the Guaíba river, which bathes the capital Porto Alegre, rose higher than expected, surpassed the retaining walls and invaded the city's neighborhoods. Ten days were estimated for its waters to recede.

In 13 days, 414 out of 496 municipalities recorded some kind of damage, in different proportions, which led to the decree of public calamity valid for 180 days. There were power and water shortages, shutdown of telephone and internet services, which made rescues difficult and led to speculation on basic survival items such as drinking water and food. The scene was one of despair, pain and disbelief at yet another extreme weather event which, this time, devastated most of Rio Grande do Sul, a state that has recorded numerous previous floods. However, until then, none of them had hit so many places and affected the lives of so many people so intensely.

The rain that began on April 26th left 48,000 people in shelters, almost 130,000 homeless and 291 injured, further affecting 1.4 million people, according to a Civil Defense report on May 7th. To this date, 131 missing persons and 90 fatalities have been recorded. The search continued in a race against time. In an unprecedented situation, the municipality of Eldorado do Sul, 49 kilometers from Porto Alegre, was flooded and, with nowhere to go, 2,000 people waited for food and shelter near a highway on the night of May 6th, in a situation of environmental refugees.

The rain gave little respite and made rescue work difficult in a scenario reminiscent of the destruction caused by a war. Rescuing and relocating people, assessing the damage, searching for the dead and missing, looking for debris in houses that collapsed under the weight of the water and mud was all that was seen in the aftermath of the disaster in the state. As a rule, this is what has followed in places devastated by extreme weather events.

The catastrophe faced by the state of Rio Grande do Sul, yet another on the national stage, reveals, above all, the responsibility of public managers to implement public policies with a view to climate adaptation and mitigation instead of denying the course of climate change and seeking to rebuild impacted places without considering the risks.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #environmental justice #climate change #rio grande do sul floods 2024 #fiocruz #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

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whitehallcarpetcleaners · 6 months

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Water Damage Restoration Company

The Importance Of Hiring Professional Water Damage Restoration Services

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softguarnere · 1 year

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 20: Standing Fast

Summary: If she really thinks about it, it’s kind of like D-Day – just not in any of the ways that count. A/N: When I said that the last chapter felt like the beginning of an intermission, I did not intend to disappear for a week - my bad! But now I'm back from a (much needed) vacation, and I'm excited to work on this fic for the rest of the summer :) Warnings: mentions of war, mentions of alcohol, improper binding Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @latibvles @lieutenant-speirs @mrs-murder-daddy @ithinkabouttzu

France, 1944

A few nights later, a bunch of sergeants get drunk during a poker game and wreck the barracks. Bunks are torn piece from piece. From what she hears of it later, fists and sharp words both fly as they take out their tension on each other. Based on the damage Bill and Shifty (one of Easy Company’s newly appointed sergeants) describe to her later, it’s a night they’ll pay for dearly.

Except there’s no time for that.

The order reaches them first thing the next morning. “After breakfast, stand fast.”

“What’dya reckon they mean by that?” Popeye asks as they make their way from the barracks.

“Nothing good,” McClung sighs.

Zenie is just sitting down with her food at breakfast when a hand on her shoulder practically drags her off the bench. Eugene’s brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a severe line. For once, his attitude is as dark as his hair – something Zenie never would have thought possible, even after what she’s overheard about his response to Winters and Welsh when they didn’t know how to help Captain Heyliger after he was shot.

“How many bandages you got?” He asks in a low voice when they’ve stepped out of everyone’s earshot.

Zenie blinks, trying to comprehend the suddenness of his question. “Huh?”

“Bandages. How many you got? And health sponges, too. You been usin’ ‘em?”

“I haven’t needed any in a while. And I think I have one role left. Why?”

“Here, take these.” Angling himself so that no one can see the transaction, he presses a role of bandages into Zenie’s hand. She quickly shoves them into her jacket. As soon as it’s over, Eugene is firing more questions at her. “You gone to the bathroom this mornin’?”

Doc Roe might know quite a bit about Zenie and her situation, but getting so many rapid-fire personal questions at such an early hour still takes her aback. When she doesn’t answer, he repeats the question with more pressure.

“You better go now,” he warns. “While no one’s around.”

“But my breakfast – “

“I’ll guard it for you. Hurry. You ain’t got much time, and you won’t be able to be alone for a while.”

“Why? Gene, what’s going on?”

There’s limited time and Eugene has told her as much. Still, he lets out a short sigh through his nose and leans in further, just in case.

“Don’t tell anyone, comprenez vous?” She doesn’t speak French, but she gets the gist. “They just told the medics that we’re movin’ out after breakfast. Lots of travelin’ ahead.”

“To where?”

Gene’s eyes dance around the room as he replies, “I dunno yet. But they’re talkin’ like it’s pretty far.”

Not willing to waste any more time, Zenie rushes to the latrine and back, ignoring the wondering looks her friends give her when she returns and takes her seat, which Roe has been occupying, as promised, hunched over her plate. Babe frowns as Gene vacates her seat and heads off again, on the move. She brushes off their questions and bolts her breakfast, leaving her coffee untouched and not even daring to think about water as a just in case.

They all finish their meal. Nothing happens. Stand fast. Nothing new. Hurry up and wait.

With nowhere to go, they clean the barracks. Zenie can feel someone’s eyes on her the entire time. Babe throws her a strange look every now and then, his brow furrowed and his expression thoughtful as they waste time. Under her friend’s watchful gaze, she has to be extra careful as she stashes her new roll of bandages in her belongings.

Something pokes her finger as she shoves the roll into the bottom of her bag. Careful to keep the bandages covered, she grabs the sharp edge and tugs it out; her postcard from the Eiffel Tower. She smiles at the memories, smiles at the thought of beating Marilyn to the landmark.

Unless, she realizes, her sister has beat her there. Travelling with the Red Cross, there’s no telling where Marilyn has been. And it’s not like Zenie would know.

It’s a bad idea, she knows as she takes a pen from her bag and scrawls on the card. She shouldn’t do it because it’s risky, she tells herself as she slaps on a stamp. But, she reasons, if she sends the card home, her mother will get it and know that she’s okay – and then her small brag will reach her sister.

When no one is looking, Zenie slips the postcard into a bag of mail that’s due to go out soon. Hopefully no one will read too much into “Dear Marilyn, Think I beat you here. – Z.”

There’s a movie playing. Zenie’s seen it before. She takes a seat toward the back of the room and smiles when Shifty seats himself in the chair beside her. When the lights go down, he moves his hand so that it rests on his leg between their chairs. Zenie does the same and smiles into the darkness when he curls his pinky finger around hers.

This is more than pressing their knees together in foxholes. This is better.

“What do you think is going on?” she whispers as the movie’s score soars over the opening credits.

From the corner of her eye, she can see him bite his bottom lip as he considers the possibilities.

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “But interruptin’ R and R like this?” He shakes his head. “I doubt it’s good.”

“They can’t send us back. We have no gear. What do they want us to do?”

There’s a commotion from the front of the room.

“Shut up!” Joe insists, turning around to face Luz. “I’m trying to watch!”

Other men shush them. Zenie waits for the noise to die down before she whispers again.

“At least we got to go to Paris first. No more wondering and avoiding.”

Shifty tightens his finger around hers. “No more,” he agrees.

“I love this part!” Luz exclaims from the front of the room. Even with his back to her, Zenie can picture the expression he uses for this particular impression – one that he’s very proud of. In a low, sultry voice he begins asking, enunciating a different word every time, “Got a penny? Got a penny? Got a penny?!”

“Got a penny?” The movie asks, making George erupt into laughter. He’s so loud that she thinks Joe might spin around and knock his lights out.

Whatever he’s planning, he doesn’t get the chance. With no warning, the doors at the back of the room fly open. Zenie and Shifty jump apart as if electrocuted while footsteps, hard and fast, march past them and to the front of the room. “Quiet!” A voice booms before anyone has the chance to properly protest.

The lights come up and the movie sputters to a stop. Now the men begin to protest. Booing and cries of “Awe, come on!” join the cacophony of Zenie’s pounding heart. Surely no one saw them, even though they were taken by surprise. She can only hope.

“I said quiet!” The order is repeated. This time, the crowd falls silent. Just in time to hear the announcement of, “Elements of the 1st and the 6th SS Panzer Divisions have broken through in the Ardennes Forest.”

Through the crowd, Zenie can see Luz throw his head back – a telltale sign that he’s giving a dramatic eye roll. Though other men are hanging their heads in disappointment, George’s reaction is what they all surely feel as the realizations set in: no more passes to Paris; no more movies; no more Rest and Relaxation. It’s back to the line for Easy Company.

Mutters break out before the announcement is properly finished as people start speculating about what it all means, how it will all play out. After all, there’s nothing for them to fight with, they’re keen to remind each other. Although the people sending them off should know that.

They file out of the theater, lips pressed into thin lines that are more severe than when the order of the day was simply “stand fast.”

“Favorite movie and I didn’t even get to finish it,” Luz complains.

Joe sighs. “Luz, you weren’t even watching the damn thing.”

“No but I was enjoying it, and that’s what matters.”

“Probably won’t be enjoyin’ anything for a while now,” Popeye muses.

“Yeah,” Zenie agrees. “Not if it’s like Holland – just sitting around in foxholes and waiting.”

Amongst the choir of muttered protests from the clumps of soldiers, one question rings out loud and clear: where the hell is Bastogne?

If she really thinks about it, it’s kind of like D-Day – just not in any of the ways that count.

Like that night in June, they pat their friends on the back and wish each other well. Except this time there’s no ice cream, no specific knowledge of where they’re going, no plan for when they get there. More importantly, they have precious little equipment. And hardly a chance to say goodbye.

Zenie’s fingers tingle with the memory of Shifty quickly intertwining their fingers together before boarding the planes. There’s no chance for anything like that now, with everyone rushing around, trying to figure out what’s going on. Instead, she has to settle for flashing him a smile while Popeye offers her a smack on the shoulder when they go their separate ways.

The effort that it took to help load their fellow soldiers into the C-47s is missing as well. Rumbling engines tear through the velvety black night, the truck’s floors shaking as they jump into the backs with what little gear they have. The planes had been solemn and filled with excitement and prayers. These trucks are packed full of people who huddle for warmth, and air gauzy with cigarette smoke in their pitiful attempts to warm themselves up and pass the time.

For the hundredth time in this war, Zenie thanks God for Gene. If he hadn’t warned her, she would have been crammed into the back of this truck with no warning. And as they rumble along in their endless journey, he begins to feel more and more like some sort of guardian angel.

“I just wanna know where they’re sendin’ us,” Babe says as they bounce along. “What the hell are we gonna do with no ammo?”

Over all the noise, from where she sits, Zenie can hear the drivers of their truck pause their conversation when they hear Babe’s question. Their part of the Red Ball Express. She remembers seeing articles in the papers about them after the jump back in June. If anyone knows anything about where they’re going, surely it will be them. She shifts towards them.

“Have y’all been to where we’re going?” Her question startles them.

The driver and the man in the passenger seat share a weary look. Not a good sign.

“Yes,” the driver finally answers.

“That bad, huh?”

“Oh yeah, you could say that,” the man in the passenger seat agrees. “That’s why you guys have to walk the last leg of the journey.”

“Why?” The words have no sooner left her mouth when the truck shakes, followed by a loud, booming sound that reminds her of summer thunderstorms shaking the house at night.

“That’s why,” the driver says. “Besides, we have more men to move.”

These drivers have a job to do, same as the paratroopers. War is a machine, and every outfit is a small piece that operates in it. That much has become obvious after successful operations, like Overlord, and not so successful ones, like Market Garden.

“You need four pairs of socks, minimum!” Skip Muck calls over the sounds of the truck. He’s lounging on the floor of the truck bed, which is the only place where there was space left for him. In his cramped position, he frees one of his hands to count on his fingers as he lectures one of the replacements traveling with them. “Feet, hands, neck, balls.”

“Extra socks warms ‘em all,” the rest of the men finish in unison.

“Yay, we all remember that one!” Muck exclaims. “But no one remembered the socks.”

The trucks begin growling to a stop as the booming of explosions and the cracking of gunfire draw closer. Men attempt to stand as tail gates are lowered, and then they’re hopping to the ground on numb legs – a jump from nowhere near as spectacular heights as on D-Day. Someone makes a joke about a tailgate jump.

“Thanks, y’all.” Zenie taps the edge of her helmet and nods to her drivers as she moves to leave the truck.

“You’re southern, too,” her driver notes. “Where from?”

Too, he had said. It’s been so rare to find men who aren’t taken aback by y’all.

“North Carolina. The mountains. What about you?”

The driver grins. “North Carolina – the piedmont!” They laugh over their shared geography.

“Seems like everyone else is from Pennsylvania.”

The man in the passenger seat waves. “That would be me.”

It’s Zenie’s turn now to exit the truck. Before she does, she flashes them both a smile. “Well, I’ll see y’all back at home.” She leaves the truck feeling a little better than when she climbed into it.

The biting cold threatens to dispel any warmth that has entered into her heart, though. Around her, men all step around some parked trucks to relieve themselves after the long ride. Others bustle through the crowd with gasoline containers which they dump into pits in the ground. Tall flames blaze to life when a book of matches is tossed onto them, and men eagerly gather around them for warmth, drawn in like moths to a flame.

Footsteps approach. More men coming to get warm –

“Christ,” Babe mutters around his cigarette.

Columns of men appear, but they aren’t heading for the fires. Darkness cannot hide the grim and fearful expressions that haunt their features as they trudge past. Zenie and Babe gawk at them. The passing men won’t meet their eyes.

“Bill! Bill, Joe, look at this!” Babe exclaims.

Their friends appear beside them, adding to the onlookers.

Bill has never looked more confused in his life. “Hey, you’re goin’ the wrong way!”

From the corner of her eye, Zenie catches a flash of familiar movement; McClung and Popeye passing by. She steps away and follows them to one of the fires. Falling into place beside Earl, she stretches her hands towards the open flames, trying to catch the warmth while she can.

“What’s that all about?” Earl asks, nodding towards the lines of men leaving the very place that Easy Company has just been ordered into. No one asks the real question: what they hell are they sending us into now?

They don’t have to wonder for long. The men leaving Bastogne begin handing over any spare gear and ammo that they can. Easy Company men load themselves down until their hands are full, and then try to find someone else to hand off extra supplies to. Zenie finds herself weighed down with three bandoliers and a knife. She hands off some grenades to Joe and pockets half a pack of cigarettes that one retreating man presses into her hands.

The parade has hardly ended when Easy Company receives the word to keep moving. With whatever borrowed weapons and ammunition that they can carry, they start off in the opposite direction of the retreating soldiers. The world shakes with gunfire as they push through the darkness, following the road.

“Huh, would you look at that.” Bill nods up at a sign that stands on the road. It’s got arrows pointing every which way, giving every sprawling road before them a name. “It really is a crossroads.”

Without looking back, they gather their courage and follow the arrow pointing towards a place labeled Bastogne.

#was going through something and felt unable to write anything good because of all the negativity it gave me #my bad though I did not intend to dip like that #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x ofc #band of brothers x oc #shifty powers x original female character #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers #my writing #oc zenie mcglamery #like a girl (like a man)

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evolutionsvoid · 2 years

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The furious scuttling in the darkness. The sound of slicing shears. A brief rush of wind, then all becomes still. The presence you just felt is no longer there, gone in a second. The only evidence of its passing is the damage it leaves behind, cut up clothing, shredded nets and, most notably, missing hair. Folks rarely see the creature responsible for these encounters, but they all know it by name: the Kamikiri. Though it moves like a shadow in the night, it is not a species that is feared, rather it brings annoyance, anger and usually a fair amount of property damage.

The Kamikiri is a terrestrial crustacean that is found in coastal places, or areas that reside close to water bodies. Be it rivers, lakes or ocean, that is enough to satisfy the needs of the Kamikiri. Though it possesses the many legs usually found in crustaceans, the adults have turned to a quadrupedal state, with the rest reduced down to nubs only used for gripping and traction. Though they only use four limbs, they are still just as fast and agile, darting about with incredible speed. This posture has also caused people to misidentify the origins of this species, often thinking them a kind of terrestrial bird or such. What helps give this impression is their beak-like face, which is actually composed of their numerous mouth parts. A hooked beak and dark coloration can make people think it a raven or some other black bird, as their quickness also makes it hard to get a good look. If they saw that mouth go to work on its food, or used for cleaning, you would see how it splits and jitters as all the parts and pieces go to work. Perhaps the best indication that this may be a crustacean and not a corvid, is the large claws on their forelimbs. Bent to help with walking and hooked to let it snag prey, these tools are vital to every Kamikiri. It is easy to say that this species wouldn't be nearly as notable if it were not for these nasty pincers! Though they may be small compared to the weaponry of other beasts, like a male Teketeke, their razor sharp edge and rapid slicing will quickly change any mind. It seems like anything that isn't metal is snipped through with ease, with them being able to cut through leather, rope, flesh and small to somewhat small bones. It slices through materials so quickly that folk rarely notice them cutting until the damage is done. There will just be a faint *snip* and then your netting is in tatters, or your clothes are missing pieces, or perhaps your found yourself with a brand new, unwanted, haircut. Before we go more into that, we should mention that these claws are also used in hunting. Their cutting power is perfect for slicing through prey and chopping them up into manageable bites. Though their weapon is potent, it is often turned towards smaller creatures, like rodents, frogs, fish, lizards and other critters. Kamikiri are active at night, using their black coloration to blend into the darkness. They lurk in the shadows, then move in a flash when they find the perfect moment to attack. One quick snip of their claws and their prey is doomed. Smaller creatures are cut in half, while larger prey will have limbs severed to keep them from escaping or fighting back. Once their food is downed, they carve them up and enjoy. For aquatic prey, they tend to hang around the shores or find downed objects like logs or brush to stand on. They then remain still as a statue, with their large eyes focused on the water in front of them. When something tasty gets close, they lash out with their claws and fillet them. Their prize is seized in their beak-like mouth and they scurry back to solid land to feed. Those who wish to steal their meal or turn them into one should think twice, as they won't hesitate to turn their claws on them. They click and snap their mouths in agitation, and loudly grind their claws to show they mean business. When faced with larger foes, they will use their flexible abdomen as a kickstand, rising up on their back legs to add some height. Test them, and you will lose fingers or maybe the tip of your nose. They cut so fine that you probably won't even notice that they got you until you notice a chunk of you lying on the ground. I mentioned that they don't just cut up prey, but also go after some random everyday objects. That is because Kamikiri are fond of both collecting things and nest building (more traits that get them confused with birds). Kamikiri build themselves nests in brush, burrows and even trees, used for resting, wooing mates and protecting their eggs. While other species may be fine with random twigs and grass, the Kamikiri like to decorate and get a nice look going. Bright colored fruits or pretty rocks may make an appearance, and several of them will squabble and fight over a shiny trinket. Those with a better, fancier nest will win over the ladies, and show that they would be a good father for their young. Even after securing a mate, their new partner will have their own decoration ideas and may make some changes, thus leading to two Kamikiri now seeking fresh materials. These eager home decorators once scoured the shores and underbrush for the perfect addition, but now they have better places to shop. The settling of the land and building of towns and trade opened up a whole new marketplace for this species, with a whole slew of new materials and pretty objects. People in colorful gowns and robes, homes filled with endless goodies, and a nonstop parade of fresh imports to change things up. This introduction of new fronts for this species has drastically changed them, as they now want the materials that only humans and such can provide. So now they scurry through the night to snip off pieces of textiles, mesh and cloth, vanishing into the night with their new prize. Obviously, this cause quite the fuss, as people don't like their property being carved up. Even worse that the Kamikiri have grown bold, going after stuff that is still on one's person. They will slice the legs off of pants, or trim the edges of kimonos while they are still being worn, moving so fast that they are gone before people even notice. A part of the reason why they have become so brave going after people, is that one of their most favorite materials can only be gained from man's own body: hair.

When it comes to nest building, there is nothing the Kamikiri love more than hair. It is a must-have to stuff around their eggs, used for cushioning and warming, but also as a deterrent. Hair in such amounts can actually be dangerous to other animals, who may get tangled or caught in this surprisingly tough material. For the hard-shelled, razor-clawed Kamikiri, it is not threat, as they can cut themselves free anytime. It is perfect for their nests, but it isn't an easy material to come by. To obtain this prized piece, they must cut it from a human, and they rarely like having their hair done by animals. So they use surprise and speed to lop off locks and buns, even leaping through the air to get a opening. They may cling to trees and dangle from the branches, or sneak in at night and trim the head of a sleeping fellow. These incidents cause quite a fright, especially if one catches them in the act. Freaking out while they are cutting is an easy way to get slashed up, especially if you choose fight over flight. These incidents are what make these creatures pests to most, and it turns out they aren't any better when they are young. From the eggs of a Kamikiri comes their larval stage, one that has not developed the quadruped look yet. They posses the claws, but not the back legs, rather keeping with the many rows of crawling limbs. Once they hatch, they scurry their way to the nearest water source and dive in. Their young are more amphibious by nature, moving between water and land to avoid predators from both worlds. Due to their appearance and different lifestyle, they have gained a different name from their adult counterparts: Amikiri. Amikiri are larval Kamikiri, and they spend most their lives in shallows. They go after bugs, fish, amphibians, worms and mollusks, still using those sharp claws for offense and defense. Due to their amphibious nature, they tend to get caught up in the nets of fishermen. However, this catch can cut itself free, which leaves the fisherman's livelihood in ribbons. This makes Amikiri a menace to fisherman and other coastal folk, who often find their prized haul slipping through a newly made hole. So for the locals, there is no stage of the Kamikiri that they like.

Like I said, Kamikiri are regarded as pests and are pretty much unwanted by everyone. The only benefit some folk gain is their sharp claws, which make good shears and cutting edges. Outside of that, not much else to like for them (as they say, I think they are neat). However, some stories tell of people who train Kamikiri for stealing, using their stealth and speed to be the perfect robbers. One particular tale has our criminal turn out to be a wig maker, who uses the Kamikiri to steal hair for their newest product. Due to their nasty tendencies, folk are sure to keep their homes well secured and protected, so that a secret barber doesn't sneak in for a quick trim. It should be noted that while humans are targeted for their hair, the Kamikiri will go after anything that looks the part. Animal fur is on the list, and so is dryad foliage. Walk alone at night or fall asleep out in the open, and these critters will turn from barbers to gardeners in an instant! Do you want a pruning? Too bad! Snip snip! Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian -------------------------------------------------

Just did a fearsome critter, so why not throw in a yokai too?

#yokai #kamikiri #amikiri #monster #creature #crustacean #art #drawing

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apexwaterrestoration · 2 months

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libertariantaoist · 6 months

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News Roundup 12/4/2023 | The Libertarian Institute

Here is your daily roundup of today's news:

News Roundup 12/4/2023

by Kyle Anzalone

US News

Sen. Wyden Threatens to Block Vote on NSA, US Cyber Command Nominee. The Hill

Ukraine

Secretary of State Antony Blinken dismissed reports that the US was pushing Ukraine towards negotiating an end to the war with Russia during a meeting of NATO foreign ministers. At the summit, Foreign Minister Dmytro Kuleba said Ukraine had a “de facto” NATO military. The Institute

Ukraine Military Eye Proposal to Expand Conscript 100,000 New Soldiers. Boston Globe

US Official Says Washington Aims to Cut Russian Energy Exports By 50% By 2030. FT

Russia to Add 170,000 Soldiers to Armed Forces. TASS

Zelensky: Counteroffensive “Did Not Achieve the Desired Results.” Kyiv Indpendent

NATO Chief Stoltenberg: We Should Be Prepared for Bad News About Ukraine. Politico AWC

Ukrainian officials speaking to media outlets on Friday claimed that the CIA-backed Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) blew up trains on railways deep inside eastern Russia. AWC

China

Washington Will Expand AUKUS Accord to Include AI, Electronic Warfare and Quantum Technology. The Hill

China Says US War Ship Illegally Entered Chinese Waters. Yahoo

OPEC

Brazil Plans to Join OPEC+ Next Year. Yahoo

Korea

South Korea Scraps F-35 Damaged By Bird Strike. Yonhap

North Korea: Interference with Satellite Is a Declaration of War. The HillThe Institute

Israel

Washington Is Profoundly Concerned About Turkish Ties to Hamas. FT

IDF Chief Tells Blinken Military Operations in Gaza Will Take More Than a Few Weeks. AxiosAWC

Gallup Poll Finds Only 32% of Americans Support Biden’s Handling of Israeli War in Gaza. UPI

A report from +972 Magazine published on Thursday detailed how Israel is intentionally targeting civilians in Gaza as part of its war strategy even when Israeli forces know strikes will kill young children. AWC

NYT: Israel Knew About Hamas Attack a Year Before October 7. NYT

Israel Has Arrested More Than 270 Palestinians in Crackdown on Free Speech. Chicago Tribune

Tel Aviv has been relying on an AI Program dubbed the Gospel to select targets in Gaza at a rapid pace. In past operations in Gaza, the IDF ran out of targets to strike in the besieged enclave. AWC

The Financial Times reported speaking with sources who said that Israel plans to wage war on Gaza for over a year. In a little less than two months, Israel has killed at least 15,000 people, damaged 100,000 buildings, displaced 1.7 million Palestinians, and destroyed most of Gaza’s medical facilities. AWC

Israel Abuses Justice System to Target Minors and Break Up Families. LA Times

The Wall Street Journal published details about the White House’s secretive arms transfers to Israel since October 7. The US has provided Israel with 57,000 artillery shells and 15,000 bombs, including over 5,000 with 2,000-pound warheads. AWC

Doctors Without Borders Says Israel Responsible for Attack on Medical Convoy that Killed 2. DWB

Babies at Gaza Children’s Hospital Left to Die and Decompose After Israel Froced Hospital Staff to Evacuate. NBC News

Blinken Told Netanyahu the White House Will Begin Banning Violent Israeli Settlers from Entering US. Reuters

Israel Withdraws Negotiators From Hostage Release Talks. AJ

Limited Number of Aid Trucks Reach Gaza After Israel Resumes Bombing. AJ

Sec Def Austin Says Israel Risks “Strategic Defeat” By Mass Civlian Killing in Gaza. VOA

Israeli Forces Operating Throughout Gaza: IDF. The Guardian

Iran

The House on Thursday passed a bill that would force the president to permanently freeze $6 billion in Iranian funds that were briefly made available to Tehran as part of a prisoner swap deal. AWC

Syria

Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) said two of its members stationed in Syria as advisors were killed by Israeli airstrikes, The Associated Press reported Saturday, citing the IRGC’s website. AWC

US Official Says Single Rocket Fired at Base in Syria. VOAAWC

US Strike in Syria Kills Five Iraqi Fighters. MEEAWC

Yemen

Houthis Launch Missiles and Drones at US War Ship and Commerical Vessels in Red Sea. Politico AWC

#kyle anzalone #libertarian institute #news roundup

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bmenvs3000f23 · 7 months

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Personal Ethics and the Environment - Blog 10

Describe your personal ethic as you develop as a nature interpreter. What beliefs do you bring? What responsibilities do you have? What approaches are most suitable for you as an individual?

The world can be intimidating and scary. Navigating through personal issues, paired with what is going on in the outside world, can be overwhelming and bring negative thoughts. News articles about the environmental catastrophes around the world, ranging from floods to droughts to uncontrollable wildfires. People are being evacuated from their homes, and people are dying due to the lack of availability of resources. Social media posts are being rapidly shared about war and violence, paired with updates about the rapid global warming of the environment driven by anthropogenic climate change. Sometimes, it's all too much to wrap your head around. Sometimes, our bubbles burst here in North America when we read or hear about what is going on globally. We all know that life isn't always butterflies and rainbows; negative things will happen. However, it is essential to view these situations, whether firsthand or from a distance, and think of a solution or solutions to fix the problem. Humans are equipped with solid morals naturally, and ultimately want to see peace and harmony in the world, even though the news articles about the negatives often cloud this. This week's blog prompt calls us to reflect on our personal ethics. Ethics are linked to morals, which determine people's actions. We all have beliefs on how we want to live our lives and see our world, and for this reason, the environment governs many of my morals and, therefore, my way of life.

Currently, I am a student in the environmental science program at the University of Guelph. I care for the environment, want to learn more about its processes and resources, and I am driven to make changes to repair the anthropogenic, destructive actions that have harmed our environment. These are my ethics. For issues such as climate change, I am driven to think of future generations and how unfair their situation will be, as they will be left repairing the mistakes and damages we have caused in our generation. They will likely face resource shortages as humans have overexploited or polluted essential resources, such as water, we have stripped our soils of nutrients, we have amplified the abilities of pests and pathogens, we have exhausted our food crops, we've cleared forests, and we've left our waste to accumulate in landfills. I can recognize that humans have caused irreversible damage to our environment and ecosystems. However, I am not discouraged that there is hope for future generations. Through nature interpretation and education, young generations can learn about the state of the environment and the consequences of climate change and pollution, and be motivated to make changes. Teaching children the actual state of the environment, the issues humans have experienced related to land use management, and proper ways to make sustainable choices in our daily lives can lead a whole generation to reverse and mitigate the damage prior generations have caused. I am responsible for acting as an "environmental mentor" and educating the youth and our elders about the state of our environment and suggesting ways to live greener. This could be by sharing in person or even on social media, giving suggestions on how to lower our greenhouse gas emissions, such as carpooling, using public transit, reducing our meat intake, avoiding unnecessary air travel, choosing more sustainable vehicles, or even limiting our energy usage in our homes or preserving our water sources. These suggestions can encourage people to take action to leave lower carbon footprints and use less energy. Proposing ideas about how our daily lives can be powered by renewable energy sources rather than fossil fuels, or avoiding the consumption of fish products that are unsustainably harvested can also positively impact our future and future generations that are soon to come. Highlighting that little actions are just as successful and meaningful as big actions is also important when thinking about sustainability, as often, it can feel as if our decisions do not make an impact. I often read comments on social media about how some countries are stuck with paper straws to reduce our environmental impact, yet music stars contribute to high carbon emissions due to frequent air travel. There is no doubt that the constant air travel by celebrities contributes to increased greenhouse gas emissions, but it does not undermine the impact that the reduction of plastics has had on the environment. Sea creatures are now safer due to reduced single-use plastic use, and inputs into landfills of plastic products are reduced, proving that using paper straws ultimately has an impact. Obtaining a mindset that change is possible, no matter how daunting or negative things may seem, ensures that hope in reversing our climate crisis remains.

So far, I've learned that guided nature interpretation walks or videos, social media posts, podcasts, radio shows, or readings can be powerful vessels for spreading environmental education. In diverse ways, ecological knowledge can be shared through the arts, such as music and theatre, or through history by highlighting how nature was in the past. My responsibility, especially after taking this course, is to share this information with friends, family, and followers. I have always believed that the sharing of information can help educate and dictate people's actions, especially as it is likely that people are unaware of things related to the environment, including the impacts of climate change and the depletion of earth’s resources. Nature interpretation is a beautiful way to connect to a vast array of audiences in various ways that support the different learning styles we've learned about through this course. Nature interpretation is accessible, can be light-hearted and fun, can include real, deep information about negative issues, and creates many opportunities to communicate environmental information and allows audiences to find the beauty and awe in nature.

Ultimately, I believe that we all have roles as humans to educate ourselves on the environment and the resources it provides for us, as it will allow everyone to find an appreciation for nature. Taking time to think about your ethics also allows for a deep connection between yourself and the environment to be formed. I aim to create a bright future with an abundance of natural resources for generations to come. For this reason, I will ensure that I spread thoughtful information about the environment to my peers, young and old, and play my part in trying to reduce my emissions, whether it is by cutting out meat products more frequently, walking or biking rather than driving, reducing my consumption of unnecessary items, especially plastics, and appreciating the nature that I see around me daily, whether it's the diversity I see in my front yard to a lush forest in the country. Enjoying nature can highlight your ethics and ultimately shape your life choices. I am curious to know about your ethics and whether the environment impacts how you live your daily lives!

P.S. Great blogs this semester, everyone! I really learned so much through everyone's unique and beautifully curated posts. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors! Brigette

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