#Volt Photos

[highvoltge]

Choosing to spend all these years alone was the best decision I’ve made in a while.

[lilshitpeta]

[newyorkthegoldenage]

A test was carried out in a laboratory on a miniature model of the New York skyline, in which a dozen or more bolts of artificial lightning were hurled from an imaginary cloud and struck the model Empire State Building, ca. July 7, 1931. No damage was done to the model. Engineers' experiments with 5,000,000 volts of artificial lightning revealed that the 1,250 foot structure afforded protection from real lightning to all surrounding it for a considerable distance.

Photo: Associated Press

[piningpercussionist]

I wholeheartedly believe Roxie would send Scott this photo and then turn her phone off. From Ramona's phone, even.

Sketch based on a tweet I was sent (original image and link will be under the cut!)

bonus content:

From this tweet; if you enjoyed this then be sure to say "thank you Volt"

I debated rendering this further but... eh. You get the bonus content from me instead; I just thought the visual of Kim taking that photo was a bit funny-

Also a bonus fun thing I guess? I couldn't figure out what to do with the BG, so in my head they're like, behind Leo's Place (been replaying the game on my ps4 lately, hence all the bricks and boxes and other throwable things...)

[amnhnyc]

This may come as a shock… but the electric eel (Electrophorus electricus) isn’t an eel. It's technically a knifefish and is more closely related to catfish and carp! This hefty critter, which can reach lengths of 8 ft (2.4 m) and weigh as much as 45 lbs (20.4 kg), delivers a charge of more than 650 volts—that’s more than five times the power of a standard outlet in the United States. Its slimy skin acts like a shield, protecting it from its own shocks. This fish inhabits the Amazon and Orinoco Rivers in South America. With poor eyesight, it relies on electrolocation to find prey, releasing small electrical discharges as it hunts. The electric eel also uses its unique abilities to stun prey and keep predators at bay. Photo: Oleksandr (Alex) Zakletsky, CC BY 4.0, Wikimedia Commons #nature #science #wildlife #amazingnature https://www.instagram.com/p/CpxxwSZL11h/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[elenaazra]

If I think about the scene in which Eddie saves Buck, who is hanging unconscious from the stairs, the association with Rocco Morabito's famous 1967 Kiss of Life snapshot comes to mind. This is the kind of salvation I would probably like to see on the screen. And let the photo does not carry any romance, but inspiration for it could give cinema and us amazing shots. Unfortunately, I already know that Eddie will not revive Buck, so it remains only to dream about it. If you don't know the history of the picture, it was accidentally taken by a photographer walking around the outskirts of Jacksonville, sent on a boring assignment to an area where electricians Randall and Jay were doing routine work to replace high-voltage wires. Randall accidentally touched one of these wires and a 4000-volt discharge instantly passed through his body, the heart could not withstand such a load and stopped. Randall's lifeless body hung from the harness. His partner Jay did not lose his head and, realizing that every second is precious, he began to do artificial respiration right on the pole. Jay tried to start his partner's heart by continuing to do artificial respiration until he had a weak pulse. Only after that did he unhook the insurance and, throwing Randall over his shoulder, went down to the ground. By the time rescuers arrived, Randall was already on the ground and regained consciousness.

[vukovich]

24K9

A daily(?) kinktober Tumblr fic. Will post to AO3 on American Thanksgiving, 2023.

Harry is a K9 unit Auror. Draco is the Ministry Kennelmaster. How could that possibly lead to anything?

Tags: collaring, top Draco, sensual pet play, touch starved Harry, bathing, shaving, rescue dog feels, other tags TBA, maybe dark draco ending?, maybe werewolves?, definitely coming untouched though, just blasting rope man

--

Chapter One

“I assure you, Auror Potter,” drawled the Patronus, speaking even before it found its full form, “there is nothing wrong with your partner.”

Malfoy’s tone was patronising, as though he were telling Harry that the monsters under his bed weren’t real, and to go back to sleep.

Next to Harry’s desk, his ‘partner’ had managed to catch his tail and was currently gnawing on it with nothing short of ardour.  K9 Auror Wurst, aka RottWurst, clamped down on his fluffy tail so hard, Harry swore he heard a crunch.

The bright fog condensed into a direwolf the size of a modest pony.  It was the perfect symbol for Draco Malfoy.  A pale, leggy, sharp-toothed relic of another time.

“And I assure you,” Harry spat, “Kennelmaster Malfoy, that this mutt’s fucking touched in the head.”

The mutt in question was eighty-plus pounds of Rottweiler-poodle abomination.  He looked like a St Bernard had dug into an avalanche, missed the humans, and hit a thousand-volt power line instead.  The curly white fur on his belly was caked with mud, and his brown muzzle still had bits of grass clippings on it.  The rest of him was black, save his brown eyebrows and speckled ears.

“He keeps alerting to sex magic, not dark magic.  It’s fucking embarrassing.  Dragged me across Hyde Park.  I had to use a Confundus on him to get him back to the office.”

The direwolf was so still that Harry blinked twice to make sure the shape wasn’t burned into his retinas.  It was a bloody showboat of a Patronus.

It was so bright that it brought out the dinginess of Harry’s office.  The yellow carpet had a pale brown trail between the door and Harry’s desk chair.  The corners of the ceiling had cobwebs, and the baseboards held an unhealthy amount of dust.

The fresh dog piss on the floor didn’t help things.

“I mean, he’s not worthless,” Harry added.  “But Robards said he can’t reassign him to Vice.  That he doesn’t have that authority.  So it must be you who has to do it.”

It was a little risky to bypass Robards the way he had, contacting Malfoy directly.  He probably should have made an appointment with his assistant or something.

But he’d been angry, so he’d pulled an interdepartmental priority Howler out of his desk and sent it.

There was probably a DMLE protocol for contacting a member of the Wizengamot.  There was a DMLE protocol for everything but wiping his arse.  Actually, they probably had one for that, too.

Harry blinked again.  His eyes were dry.  He was on hour seven of a twelve-hour shift.  After this, he’d get another coffee.

The direwolf shifted its weight, then leaned back, hindquarters high, in a deep stretch.  Its paws spread out in front of it.

Harry wondered if Malfoy was actually stretching.  And what that might look like.

It’d been years since he’d seen Malfoy in person.  Just in the papers, and only in the background of Wizengamot photos.  He’d been called to his Wizengamot seat the day after his thirtieth birthday, having met the minimum age.  They hadn’t called Hermione to hers until she was thirty-two.  She’d die mad about that.

The direwolf laid down, then yawned.

Harry yawned.

Wurst yawned.  Then farted.

Harry thought to check the time.  2:30 AM, according to his wristwatch.  He’d been on the clock for fourteen hours.  Not seven.

“Shit,” Harry said.

He’d woken a member of the Wizengamot at 2:30 AM.  And an important one.  

The direwolf sighed and tucked its muzzle under its paw.  Harry held his breath.  Maybe Malfoy would fall asleep.

Maybe he’d doze off, and he’d think he dreamt he got a Howler in the middle of the night from a burnout beat cop at least six rungs below him.  Maybe.

The direwolf sighed again, then drifted away like will-o'-the-wisps on the wind.

Maybe Malfoy wouldn’t report this.

Maybe.

Maybe Robards wouldn’t kill him.

He drummed his fingers on his desk.  If he did get written up, it’d be his sixth this year.  Two of them were for failing to meet dress code, but the shaving regulations were stupid, and the hygiene one was just weird.

Still.  

Wurst looked at him.  He looked at Wurst.

Nothing would happen.  His talk with Malfoy had only lasted a few seconds.  He’d think it was a dream.

It would be fine.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry told Wurst, ignoring the sweat on his palms.

Wurst’s nostrils flared, and then an ivory envelope slid under the door.  It sat on the grimy carpet for a moment, then folded itself into a swan.  With a few wingbeats, it landed on Harry’s desk and unfolded itself.

Inside was a business card.

Draco L Malfoy Wizengamot Member, Kennelmaster Warminster BA13 4SH UK

“Shit,” Harry said.

He flipped the card over.  On the back was an appointment date and time.  Tomorrow.

“Fuck.”

Robards was going to kill him.

--

[kasuracha]

I think I have an obsesion with him...

All of these things are hand made!!!

This is just a cardboard and with hama beads I made a while ago and I have it on my bedroom like all the other things!<3

silly little bottle

a mini figure and a keychain made with foamy (it looks better in the other photo tbh😖)

the other silly clay figure <333

A keychain and a plush I made with crochet! Still need to finish the big fluffy one🥺

This is from a cosplay I made w/@slashtanaa in April I HAD SO MUCH FUN THERE!!! Kart has a 9-volt cosplay is really cool!!! (Lit we made it in my house the night before, we went to bed like at 4am that day😥😥😥) I'm hopping one day be able to show the cosplay

[corrodedcoughin]

Thinking about steddie future where they're both just average guys. No rockstars, no basketball players just two Normal men living a normal life because honestly? they deserve it. They deserve soft domesticity and happiness.

They both have jobs they like but don't love and they're happy with that. Eddie maybe becomes an electrician, working for someone else's company. His coworkers are chill, he gets to get out and work with his hands and that's more than he could have asked for. Steve is a physical therapist, or a manager in some business. He likes his team and the steady hours. He's not working for his dad which is a plus.

They buy a house together, that's not a mansion but it's not a trailer either. Steve does a lot of the dishes because Eddie hates it, hates the feeling of old food on the plates and cutlery. So Eddie will kiss Steve on the cheek and does the laundry because Steve fucking hates laundry. And sitting on the floor watching TV while he folds clothes is honestly sort of relaxing?? Love is doing the chores your partner hates.

Steve and Robin go out for brunch at least once a month, where they catch up and gossip for hours and hours and Steve comes home lighter with updates on Robin and Vickie. Eddie will have nightly phone calls with Wayne, where they talk and laugh and Eddie will eventually hand the phone over to Steve so he and Wayne can talk sports together. When he's in town Dustin will come over and stay in their spare room and they laugh and joke so much it's just like old times. They go over to Jeff's house for dinner on a semi regular basis, and it's nice having normal friends.

They adopt a very annoying cat who will climb all over them in bed and meow in their faces when they don't wake up to feed it breakfast in time. Steve will go for jogs on a Saturday morning, coming home to Eddie reading in bed. Some old western book Wayne recommended to him. There's a steaming cup of coffee waiting on their bedside tables that Eddie's prepared.

They take time off of work and go on a week long vacation because they can do that now. They do dorky touristy things and Eddie buys a mug to send to Wayne. Steve takes a lot of dorky photos of the two of them.

Idk they deserve to be normal and alive and happy with no upside down anymore <3

Oh I love this! I had actually been thinking about tradesman Eddie for a little bit I am so, so glad you’ve come up with this!

I can so completely see him learning a trade and just getting employed and put through his time by a small local employer! He has to go through his exams and that part of it worries him when he first gets the job but his team end up being really supportive and Steve stays up late with him, practicing circuits and wiring and quizzing him on currents and volts. Eddie returning the favour, letting Steve mark up his muscles and be a living anatomy dummy. Sure it gets a little sexy from time to time but more often than not it’s just them testing each other as Steve identifies bones and Eddie talks about parallel circuits.

The monthly brunches mentally and physically revive Steve after working extended hours with patients that he really does want the best for but a jobs a job and it can get pretty tiring. They joke that they rebalance each others chakras but they really do feel realigned after their meet ups. Eddie can see it to, sometimes he’ll come pick them up when it’s been a boozy brunch and delights in seeing them happy and light, clambering over each other to tell Eddie something about one of the waiters or an especially good dish they ordered. When he drops Robin home Steve sits in the front and looks at peace and Eddie feels the same way.

Their weekends are for them, sometimes that means staying home and cleaning the whole place between ordering food in and sometimes that means going on a day trip and taking Wayne around all the antique spots around the county and seeing what horrors they can uncover. Top spot currently sits with Wayne’s find of a doll whose limbs had been replaced with horse legs and had the head of a fish. Of course they bought it.

Every time they go on a holiday they make sure to send postcards to everyone, including themselves, seeing if they’ll get home before the postcard does. Steve keeps them in a photo album, each with a Polaroid of them next to it. Sometimes taken by a stranger, sometimes just a close up of their faces squashed together. It’s Eddie’s favourite thing to go through on their anniversary, or any day really, just loves being reminded that this is the life they get to have.

It’s mundane, dare say even normal, but they love it. Steve comes home every night, happy to put his scrubs in the washing machine next to Eddie’s uniform, happy to be where he feels loved.

[sgiandubh]

Come ho già detto non ho copiato o memorizzato quelle foto viste le mie scarse attitudini tecniche. la foto estiva ricordo che era in un gruppo di foto insieme ad altre degli interpreti di Outlander, come se ne trovano anche adesso quando si cerca sotto S e C o C e T. In quei momenti non eravamo alla divisione del fandom come ora e il signor T non era ancora diventato famoso .La foto della festa durante la quale C era seduta sulle ginocchia del signore di cui ho parlato sono state messe in rete dai blogger molte volte , anche se non tutte, e credo che quelli di quel periodo possano ancora ritrovarle. Ho solo messo mano ai miei ricordi e ho voluto condividerli.Spero che ciò non provochi altri rumori . So che quando si dice qualcosa la prima parola è “provalo!” ed è giusto. Se ci saranno critiche lo capirò ma non mi faranno male perché la mia coscienza è tranquilla.Grazie, grazie davvero .

Dear @findanserwers,

Grazie per la tua risposta e grazie per il tuo coraggio!

Traduzione e dopo, reazione:

'Like I already said, I did not copy or save those pictures, on account of my very limited technical abilities. I remember the summer picture was included in a bigger batch, together with other photos of the OL cast, like the ones you can still find when you look for S and C or C and T. At that time, we didn't have these fandom wars, like nowadays, and Mr. T was not famous yet. The picture of the party when C was sitting on that gentleman's lap has been shared many times by bloggers and I think the more senior bloggers could still have it or find it. I was just revisiting my memories and I wanted to share. I hope I did not start even more rumors. I know that every time someone says something the first reaction is 'prove it!' and it's only fair. If this post will be criticized, I will understand, but I will not be hurt, because my conscience is clear. Thank you, truly thank you.'

I am now wondering if this mysterious summer pic is not one of the series taken for RDM's birthday party and if memory serves (and I can, of course, be awfully wrong and sure - always correct me, please), it was a whole flurry at the time about S being cut off some pictures. That would mean you have somehow seen a picture that was not very widely circulated. As for the lap pic, still no clue - but many pics of C with many other men (dr. Colbert comes to mind, too) are very affectionate, whereas with McIdiot - flat cardiogram and blink twice if you want us to rescue you.

Maybe one of the veterans could help? At the moment, I feel like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack and there is nothing more irritating for someone like me (granted, chronically curious - a detail that, remember, got me here, LOL).

I will never blame you for not finding those photos, by the way. I think it was incredibly brave to step out with your handle and own your thoughts and words: it is rare and for this, my dear, I do admire you! And I can only look back, with my historian glasses, this time, and think of all the tiny details that were forever lost with each and every deactivated or erased blog, all those comments and all those tidbits that once kept this community on tenterhooks every single day. Back when this place was lively, and fun and smiling and young and naïve.

A time I never knew. But a story I can relate to and understand maybe as well as our veterans, who lived through the sorrow and puzzlement and are still here, with us. And I feel incredibly honored to see you found this page to be a safe haven. It will always remain so, for all the shippers who will engage with me. You have my word.

Please don't be a stranger. Grazie, grazie mille e un abbraccio per te. Pace e Bene! 😘

[serosblunt]

BakuSquad Drabbles: If They Had A Crush On You

BakuSquad x (Female) Reader

NSFW, 18+

Characters: Bakugo, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Mina

Warnings: Mentions of smut (masturbation, electrostimulation, kissing, general horny thoughts.) Reader with female anatomy and pronouns. My terrible use of Spanish.

A/N: I am not Spanish, nor have I ever taken a day of it in my life so pls forgive me if I messed up the beautiful language😭

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

Bakugo was NOT a pervert. 

Hothead? Yes. Slowly-coming-out-of-the-closest? Yes. But he was not a pervert. So why did he find himself having so many restless nights thinking about your face? 

The blond would frequently wake up to sheets soaked in sweat and slick palms that emitted his caramel essence. 

The way you smiled at him for less than a second when he handed you a pencil, or the casual manner in which you wiped sweat from your brow while sparring with Uraraka was so enticing to him. 

Perhaps it was because for only the third or fourth time in his life, someone wasn’t afraid of him, and that scared him. If he hurled insults at you, you would simply throw him back a grin, a toothy one that matched his own, as if you were telling him you knew he didn’t meant it. You were his equal and he respected you, maybe even worshipped you. 

Walking down the halls, if you were to accidentally bump shoulders, Katsuki would internally die a little, and turn a deeper shade of red than Ejirou’s hair. 

For some reason he would be overcome with the need to…apologise?!

You were his kryptonite, exposing all of his weak spots. 

He was in deep. And he didn’t know if he wanted to get out. 

Katsuki was fucked. 

Maybe he wanted to be, if you were down ;)

The red-head had always prided himself on being manly, and it hadn’t taken long for him to figure out he was harbouring strong feelings for you. 

Your loyalty to your friends and your willingness to drop everything’s for them at a minutes notice had initally peaked Eijirou’s interest. It was a very manly quality to have. 

His longing had only grown from there. 

Kirishima fondly remembers one day when he wasn’t in class, and during the lunch-break there was a pounding at his dorm room door. He was sick, it was really only a sniffle but Aizawa advised him against getting the rest of his classmates sick. 

He opened his door to find you, out of breath, having apparently run all the way from the classroom. You somehow had managed to find tissues, soup and an assortment of medicines along your fast-paced journey, with help from Recovery Girl. 

His heart was fluttering around you constantly from that day onwards, and he knew he couldn’t keep blaming lingering cold symptoms forever. 

His friends had caught him staring lovingly at you from across the room on more than several occasions, and smacked him out of his trance, as good friends did. But not before Mina got a few photos of the “lover boy” to show you later.

If he wasn’t going to step up and ask you out himself, she would do it for him. 

Denki WAS a pervert. 

Lately the two of you had been partnering up for training exercises, and his filthy mind had wandered. It was inevitable, you had boobs and were breathing. 

As you dodged his attacks, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you hadn’t.

If you submitted to them willingly…asked for them…begged for them…

He had a crystal clear image of you underneath him, any time you trained. Naked and begging him to run his volts through you. In his mind, it made your toes curl and your nipples impossibly hard, and that wasn’t the only hard thing around.

When the thoughts got too much for the horny teen, Kaminari reverted back to blaming an over-usage of his quirk. Often this backfired on him however as you came even closer to him to run your fingers through his hair, knowing that it had helped him feel more grounded on occasion. 

It was common knowledge that recently, Denki, in his infinite wisdom, had developed intense stomach aches whenever he overused his quirk, which he obviously needed to see Recovery Girl for. 

Alone. 

Really, it was just an excuse to hide his boner from you and make a quick getaway, before either shamelessly rubbing one out in the bathroom or trying to coax it down enough to see the nurse. 

Unfortunately Denki could be a little clueless. You had felt something poking you in the thigh the first time you trained together, you decided to start wearing shorter skirts from that point onwards. 

Sero is a confident man. He knows he likes you and he suspects that you like him, but he needs to put that theory to the test. 

In the beginning he starts out slow, with only a word or two whispered so low you’re not even sure he said anything. 

Then the long-haired teen decided to use his powers for good. 

He calls it experimentation, and the way you blush after he breathes so softly just below the shell of your ear, he calls that data. 

“Data which must be collected again and again.”

The phrases too begin innocently enough, but Hanta knows how to get what you both so clearly what. 

“Cariño,” he purrs to as you reach for a snack.

“What does that one mean?” You squeak back, meekly. He finds it completely intoxicating. 

“It means ‘sweetheart’, but that’s nothing compared to what I’ll be calling you later, mi dulce princesa.”

You practically bend over for him right then and there, and the cocky, smiling fool knew it too. 

The tension between you two was more electric than anything Denki could produce, and it was driving Sero just as crazy as it was driving you. His lips spent more time attached to your ears in those few short weeks than they did apart from them. 

The taller boy was completely enamoured with the way you melted simply from his words.

Needles to say it didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating, and Sero kept up the Spanish.

Thoughts of you came to Mina often, but especially at night. When she was getting ready to slip her fingers below the waistband of her nightwear, inching them closer to where she so desperately wished it could be you touching her instead. 

It felt like it should have been wrong, the two of you were friends, but you were close. Closer than she saw a lot of her other friends act. But the way it felt, the way she felt about you, overpowered all that negativity. 

Ashido pictured your smile, your collarbones, your hands, and if she thought about it hard enough, she could almost feel the ghost of your lips against her skin. 

Your plush body against her own. It edged her closer and closer to her release.

She was practiced at this, having had the same desires for many a night. She knows just what vision will get her over the edge. 

Mina pretends it’s your voice in her ears instead of her own laboured breathing, coaxing her on, telling her you love her too.

A few more talented flicks of the wrist has your name on her lips like a symphony. 

Later that night, as she does every other, the bubbly girl curls up to a teddy bear you gifted her, which still holds your scent. 

You’ve never understood why she blushes the first time she sees you each day, but Mina knows that each night will be the same as the last until you’re hers. That’s the only secret she’s ever kept from you. 

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

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET ELEVEN - ROUND ONE - MATCH SIX

"Photograph from "SNAP OSAKA" Collection" (1995 - Keizo Motoda (元田敬三)) / "Clytemnestra after the Murder" (1882 - John Collier)

PHOTOGRAPH FROM SNAP OSAKA COLLECTION: I saw this in an exhibition a couple of years ago, and I still sometimes think about it. This was the text that was posted at the side:

"When I was taking a short break in a park, an American motorcycle pulled up in front of me with a deafening roar. When the rider took off her helmet, I saw long hair and a sharp gaze. She was supercharged with a million volts. I found myself jumping up to ask her: "Please let me take your picture," my usual line. "If you'll send it to me." Of course I would. A few days later I printed it in the darkroom, sent her a copy and got a reply right away, very messily handwritten on a torn-out piece of blue notebook paper."Thank you. Your photo made me to decide to pursue a dream that I had given up." After that, we stayed friends, but she was always standing me up when we made plans. Amerika-mura, Osaka, 1995"

I'm very bad at talking about art, and worse at having feelings about it besides "I like this", but this image made me fall in love a little bit - I just want to know more about her. Maybe you can see it too.

Apologies for the bad quality, high quality pictures of his work are very hard to come across.

His entire work is worth taking a look at though - the website is available in both japanese and english. (@eclecticfiend)

CLYTEMNESTRA AFTER THE MURDER: [no additional commentary] (@castielsfrillywhiteknickers)

("Photograph from "SNAP OSAKA" Collection" is a piece from a selection of photographs taken by Japanese photographer Keizo Motoda. Many other of the pieces can be found here, but his personal website is only available through archive.

"Clytemnestra after the Murder" is an oil on canvas painting by British artist John Collier. It measures 239 × 174 cm (94 × 69 in) and is held by the Guildhall Art Gallery.)

[abr]

Uccise più comunisti italiani Stalin, complice delatore o silente il Migliore Togliatti, che Mussolini.

Quanti furono gli italiani comunisti che vennero perseguitati sotto la dittatura di Stalin? Difficile stabilirlo. L'emigrazione in Russia nel "Paradiso dei soviet" negli anni '30 sovente avveniva in modo clandestino. Il partito comunista italiano (...) sostenne fossero circa un centinaio. Ma storie e racconti raccolti da studiosi e ricercatori fanno alzare il numero a una cifra vicino agli 800. Quasi duecento furono fucilati. Uccise più comunisti italiani la Russia di Stalin che l'Italia di Mussolini. (...)

Nel dicembre 1934 viene ucciso Kirov da un militante comunista vicino alle posizioni di Kamenev , Zinov'ev e Trockij. E' il periodo più duro del regime che sfocerà nei processi del 1936, condotti con pugno di ferro da Vyšinskij. Le grandi purghe colpiranno famosi dirigenti della rivoluzione del diciassette a partire proprio da Kamenev e Zinov'ev. (Con) loro vengono perseguitati personaggi minori, per creare un clima di terrore. A volte sono le stesse comunità di esuli a denunciare i connazionali che "sbagliano". (...)

Dante Cornelli (ad esempio ne fu vittima ma si salvò). (Ammazza) il segretario del fascio di Rivoli, fugge dall'Italia e arriva a Pietroburgo (...). Viene arrestato nel 1936 e deportato nel campo di Vorkuta, oltre il Circolo Polare Artico. Viene liberato nel 1946 ma rimane al confino fino al 1948. Nel 1949 è di nuovo deportato, con tutta la famiglia, a Igarka in Siberia. Nel 1960 riesce a stabilirsi in Ucraina, poi rientra in Italia abbandonando la famiglia. Comincia un'opera di denuncia dello stalinismo e delle persecuzioni inflitte a tanti comunisti. La sua opera, "Il redivivo Tiburtino", dopo esser stato rifiutata dalla Rizzoli, dalla Mondadori e dalla Rusconi, esce (...) per le edizioni La Pietra, collegate a Pietro Secchia. Ma la sua denuncia non ha eco. Il partito rimane indifferente. Le sue pesanti accuse a Togliatti, Robotti e Vidali cadono nel nulla. Morrà nel 1990 con un partito che (...) non vuole ancora aprire gli armadi e svuotarli dai tanti scheletri che li abitano, primo fra tutti quello di Palmiro Togliatti. Sul ruolo del Migliore, sui suoi silenzi, ancora la storiografia deve fare chiarezza. (...)

via https://www.mescalina.it/photo/gallery/7799/luigilusenti

[neropece]

“skater at sunset” photo by Fabrizio Pece (tumblr | 500px | instagram)

Il sole stava già iniziando la sua lenta discesa dietro gli edifici di mattoni rossi e intonaco che costellavano il centro della città. Una luce dorata tingeva il cielo, facendo brillare le finestre dei grattacieli come pezzi di vetro spezzato. Jack, un uomo di mezza età dalle spalle curve e dallo sguardo stanco, si trascinava lungo le strade trafficate, cercando di raggiungere casa dopo una giornata di lavoro che sembrava non avere mai fine.

Mentre si avvicinava al suo appartamento, passò davanti a un negozio di dischi di seconda mano che aveva sempre ignorato. Qualcosa, quella sera, attirò la sua attenzione. Una copertina sgargiante spiccava tra gli svariati album impolverati esposti nella vetrina. Era un disco di qualche band indie locale, ma ciò che catturò l'occhio di Jack fu l'immagine sulla copertina.

Al tramonto, su una pista da skate, in quella che sembra una città europea, uno skater si muoveva fluido con la sua tavola sotto i piedi. La silhouette nera del ragazzo si stagliava contro il cielo dai colori invecchiati dal passaggio del tempo. Il movimento della tavola da skate e del ragazzo disegnavano un'ombra allungata sulle piastrelle di cemento. Era un momento intrappolato nel tempo, un istante di pura grazia e abilità, catturato in una frazione di secondo.

Senza pensarci due volte, Jack varcò la soglia del negozio e chiese al commesso dietro al bancone di vendergli quel disco. Il giovane commesso, con una pettinatura alla moda e un paio di occhiali da sole sul naso, gli sorrise e accettò di buon grado la sua richiesta.

Tornato a casa, Jack mise il vinile sul giradischi polveroso che aveva ereditato da suo padre. Il suono scricchiolante della puntina che si posava delicatamente sulla traccia iniziò a riempire la stanza. Le note di chitarra si diffusero nell'aria, e Jack si ritrovò avvolto dalla melodia malinconica.

Chiuse gli occhi e si immaginò sul bordo di quella pista, al tramonto, mentre uno skater sconosciuto danzava con il pavimento in un perfetto equilibrio tra gravità e libertà. Sentì la brezza tiepida sulla pelle, assaporò la sensazione di libertà che solo uno skate e una strada deserta possono offrire.

La musica continuava a suonare, e Jack si lasciò trasportare in quel mondo di movimenti eleganti e sfide audaci. Quella copertina diventò per lui un portale, un ricordo che sfuggiva alle mani ma che, grazie alla musica, poteva rivivere ogni volta che lo desiderava. E così, nella sua solitudine quotidiana, trovò un rifugio in un tramonto urbano immortalato su una copertina di vinile.

[yuri-badiner]

The Apollo LRV

My MOC Lunar Rover, inspired by the real-life “The Apollo Lunar Roving Vehicle”. This is an electric vehicle designed to operate in low lunar gravity. Yes, some people had a chance to drive electric cars long before it became mainstream.

Four lunar rovers were built by Boeing in the early 70’s, one each for Apollos 15, 16, and 17, and one that was used for spare parts after the cancellation of further Apollo missions.

The Lunar Roving Vehicle had a mass of 210 kg and was designed to hold a payload of an additional 490 kg on the lunar surface. A large mesh dish antenna was mounted on a mast on the front center of the rover. Power was provided by two 36-volt silver-zinc potassium hydroxide non-rechargeable batteries with a capacity of 121 amp-hr.

Harrison Schmitt of Apollo 17 said, "....the Lunar Rover proved to be the reliable, safe and flexible lunar exploration vehicle we expected it to be. Without it, the major scientific discoveries would not have been possible; and our current understanding of lunar evolution would not have been possible."

I never got around to taking any kind of artistic photo of this rover (apart from the title photo); it still lies in a container called “Maybe later.”

[reblogginqueen]

Pedro Pascal Favorites Archive: (Two)

Javier Peña:

One Two

Marcus Moreno:

Imagines:

Best Laid Plans ~ Written By: @themand0lorian

Night Out ~ Written By: @radiowallet

Sugar, Spice And Everything Nice ~ Written By: @starryeyedstories

Love is a Heck of a Drug ~ Written By: @themand0lorian

A Simple Mission ~ Written By: @hello-mooi

Kept that Photo of us in Your Wallet? ~ Written By: @cowboy-turtle

Volt to the Heart ~ Written By: @autumnleaves1991-blog

Sirenita ~ Written By: @pascalpanic

Can’t Lose You ~ Written By: @writingsnmusings

Superheros Don’t Take Sick Days ~ Written By: @honey-dewey

All My Life ~ Written By: @the-purity-pen

Mine All Mine ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Enlighten Me ~ Written By: @jaceyneedsabetterusername

Fiddle ~ Written By: @pedros-mustache

First Date ~ Written By: @jawabear

Series:

None here yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Blurbs/Drabbles:

None here yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Marcus Pike:

Imagines:

Out Of Commission ~ Written By: @javierpinme

You’re Who I’ve Been Waiting For ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Isn’t It Funny? ~ Written By: @say-al0e

Cupcake ~ Written By: @pascalpanic

Stay ~ Written By: @aerynwrites

The Love You Deserve ~ Written By: @themand0lorian

Will you? ~ Written By: @themand0lorian

The Infinity Cube ~ Written By: @littlemisspascal

Begin Again ~ Written By: @pascalpanic

The One ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Picture Perfect ~ Written By: @pascalpanic

Nothing but Strangers Now ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Series:

Taking A Chance ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Accidental Husband ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Just Friends ~ Written By: @supernaturalgirl20

Blurbs:

None here yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Max Phillips:

Imagines:

Pushing The Envelope ~ Written By: @something-tofightfor

Wife For Life ~ Written By: @absurdthirst

Fireworks ~ Written By: @mandoalorian

An Unexpected Forever ~ Written By: @absurdthirst

Plus One ~ Written By: @absurdthirst

Miracles ~ Written By: @kayleezra

Series:

Fringe benefits ~ Written By: @brandyllyn

Snowed In ~ Written By: @mandocrasis

Blurbs/Drabbles:

None here yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯