#communal heating network

[chelseabridgewharf]

Congratulation to Parklands (Kirkby)

Congratulations to Parklands (Kirkby) in sacking Rendall and Rittner and arranging a new managing agent. It was a somewhat complex situation and did not involve Right to Manage but did require a lot of hard work from a group of very determined leaseholders who have faced ridiculous service charges and appalling service over a long period and I have been happy to have been involved in a very minor…

[ahmed1132]

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #594)✅️

Help my family in Gaza and give them hope to live in peace 💔🚨

Hi, I am Ahmed from Palestine, from the northern part of Gaza City. I am 33 years old, married, and a father of two children. I live in the Jabalia refugee camp with my family, which consists of 19 members, in a four-story house.

Since the beginning of the war on Gaza on October 7th, life in northern Gaza has been extremely difficult, lacking basic necessities due to the siege imposed by the Israeli army on the northern part of the Gaza Strip. The occupation has blocked food, medicine, water, electricity, and even communication networks. Thousands of airstrikes have been carried out, and hundreds of massacres have been committed, mostly affecting innocent civilians, the majority of whom are children and women. The infrastructure, thousands of homes, and civilian facilities have been destroyed.

On May 12th, 2024, the Israeli army besieged the Jabalia camp for the second time and ordered us to evacuate, informing us that it was a military operation zone and a dangerous combat area. We were forced to leave our homes in the camp and flee under heavy bombardment and intense gunfire, navigating through the rubble and bodies lying in the streets and on the roads. We became homeless, with no food or water. During this difficult siege, I lost two of my brothers, Abdullah, 30 years old, and Atallah, 26 years old, due to random shelling and airstrikes on the camp.

Why am I collecting donations?

After more than 15 months of war, on January 19th, 2025, the ceasefire came into effect, and we returned to the camp to check on our home. However, we were shocked by the extent of the destruction and devastation in the camp. The homes had turned into piles of rubble, and we could no longer recognize the places or roads due to the scale of the damage. Our house was completely destroyed, leaving us homeless. Now, my family and I live in a small tent that is insufficient for the number of family members. It offers no privacy, no bathroom, no kitchen, and it does not protect us from the summer heat or the winter cold. We are living in an overcrowded environment with displaced people, chaos, piles of garbage, and the spread of diseases, especially among the displaced children.

This war has forced us to live in extremely harsh conditions and an environment that is unfit for human life. We continue to suffer every day from the ongoing war, repeated displacement, lack of resources and essentials, fear, pain, and oppression. Not to mention the hardship of fetching water, standing in long queues for basic needs, and struggling to find food—another challenge added to our suffering in this devastating war that is destroying people, buildings, trees, and animals. All of this has exhausted our bodies and deeply affected our mental well-being.

Therefore, I am reaching out to you through this humanitarian platform to help me support my family, rebuild our destroyed home, and contribute to providing the basic necessities of life so that I can live with my family with dignity and freedom.

��� How will these donations be used?

1) An apartment will be rented to temporarily house my family until the reconstruction of the destroyed house is completed, as an alternative to a tent, at a cost of $600 per month for at least two years. (An estimated total cost of $14,000 over the two years.)

2) Purchase the basic tools and equipment necessary to furnish the rented apartment at an estimated cost of $5,000.

3) Purchase clothing and basic necessities for all family members at an estimated cost of $6,000.

4) Remove the rubble of the destroyed house and rebuild it at an estimated cost of $140,000.

5) Purchase the tools and equipment necessary to furnish all apartments in the new house at an estimated cost of $35,000.

• How does your donation and support make a difference?

Your support and donation is a noble humanitarian cause that supports and strengthens our resilience during the war. This contribution, even if it is small, will make a huge difference in my life and the life of my family.

Please help us to live in safety and peace, to start over to achieve our ambitions and dreams, and to create a safe environment for our children that will provide them with a bright future.

@gazavetters @brokenbackmountain@gazavetters @just-browsing1222 @mothblossoms @aleciosun @serica-e @fluoresensitive @katherineonline @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @yetisidelblog

[unisol-communications123]

Indoor Wall Mount Racks

SPECIFICATIONS

Mounting : Wall Mountable Material : Galvanized Steel Protection Class : IP56 (with fan) & IP66 (without fan) Construction : Welded Front Door : Lockable GI Door Plain or Lockable Toughened Glass GI Door Standard Finish : Powder Coating Side Panel : Integrated with top and bottom covers Standard Color : Light Grey / Dark Grey Top and Bottom Panel : Vented with fan and cable entry provision

[angelaness]

020525

Cycle Syncing 101: How to Stop Fighting Your Body and Start Flowing (🌚) With It

alright girls, gather ‘round. this is the full post i promised - the one about periods, moods, energy, and how to actually live in sync with your cycle instead of feeling like a chaotic mess every month. because once i started tracking and understanding my cycle… it changed everything. for real. my workouts, my eating, my planning, my self-talk all became softer, smarter, more strategic. so let's break it down.

your menstrual cycle has 4 main phases, and each one brings its own vibe, mood, superpowers, and kryptonite. when you know which phase you’re in, you stop blaming yourself and start working with your body, not against it. ready?

1. Menstrual Phase (Bleeding / Days 1–5ish)

Vibe: hibernation queen. inward. reflective.

Body: hormones (estrogen + progesterone) are at their lowest = low energy, fatigue, cramps, sensitivities.

Mind: introspective, quiet, intuitive. this is your “truth-telling” time.

What to do:

Exercise: restorative yoga, stretching, slow walks. if you need to skip your workout? skip it. your body is doing enough.

Food: iron-rich foods (spinach, lentils, beef, dark chocolate), warm meals like soups and stews. magnesium-rich snacks can help with cramps.

Routines: go slow. journal. say no to extra plans. light candles. wear comfy clothes. treat yourself like you're sacred.

Study/work: focus on review, reflecting on past tasks, journaling ideas. let your brain rest a bit—don’t force deep concentration.

Self-care: warm baths, heat pads, soft music, no loud people.

Mental tip: you’re bleeding out the past month. literally. let go of what didn’t serve you. Zdont feel guilty.

2. Follicular Phase (Post-period / Days 6–13ish)

Vibe: fresh start. springtime energy. main character in a coming-of-age film.

Body: estrogen rises. energy builds. skin glows. you feel light, optimistic, social.

Mind: creative, motivated, open to new ideas.

What to do:

Exercise: try something new—dance, pilates, running, gym sessions. you’ll feel strong and energetic.

Food: fresh and light—greens, fermented foods, seeds, citrus. boost that metabolism.

Routines: this is your reset phase. declutter. plan your week/month. start new habits. your brain wants structure right now.

Study/work: brainstorm, start new projects, prep for heavy tasks ahead. your memory and focus are sharper.

Self-care: vision boards, hair masks, cute outfits. say yes to life.

Mental tip: this is your most productive phase. take advantage but don’t overbook. pace yourself.

3. Ovulation Phase (Middle of Cycle / Days 14–16ish)

Vibe: glowing goddess. seductive. unstoppable.

Body: estrogen peaks, testosterone joins the party. libido spikes. you’re magnetic and bold.

Mind: communicative, charming, high-confidence. great time to network or confront someone (with love, of course).

What to do:

Exercise: go hard—HIIT, lifting, cardio, group workouts. you’ve got power and endurance.

Food: fiber-rich foods (quinoa, carrots, berries) and antioxidants. hydrate well.

Routines: do your “hard” things here—presentations, big meetings, social stuff, shooting your shot.

Study/work: speak, pitch, debate. you’ve got clarity + persuasion.

Self-care: romanticize yourself. take hot pics, go out, flirt with life.

Mental tip: your confidence is real. don’t downplay it. enjoy this phase but stay grounded.

4. Luteal Phase (Pre-period / Days 17–28ish)

Vibe: cozy but moody. nesting energy.

Body: progesterone rises after ovulation. if no pregnancy happens, hormones start to drop = PMS hits.

Mind: detail-focused, critical, sensitive. easily overstimulated.

What to do:

Exercise: lower the intensity. pilates, strength training, long walks. listen to your body.

Food: complex carbs (sweet potatoes, oats), calming teas, B6-rich foods (bananas, salmon). eat more often to manage cravings + blood sugar dips.

Routines: finish tasks. organize. clean your space. prep for your period like you’d prep for a storm—lovingly.

Study/work: editing, detail work, wrapping up loose ends. less is more.

Self-care: limit caffeine, go offline if needed, soothe your senses.

Mental tip: don’t trust every thought. the inner critic is loud but not always right. softness wins here.

General Tips:

Track your cycle: use apps like Clue, Flo, or just a paper calendar. know when each phase starts so you can plan smarter.

Plan around your phases: big goals in follicular/ovulation, rest + review in menstrual/luteal.

Cycle syncing ≠ perfection: life doesn’t always let you live like a hormone princess. do what you can. forgive what you can't.

Be kind to yourself: if your body is low-energy, that’s not laziness—it’s biology. honor it.

Final Thoughts:

nobody told us this. nobody said “hey, your whole system is a monthly pattern, learn the rhythm and life gets easier.” instead, we got shame, pain, and whispers. but no more. now we know better. and syncing your life to your cycle is not about being soft—it’s about being smart. strategic. in tune.

girlhood isn’t chaos, insanity, it’s coded. and when you read the code, you stop feeling like a mess and start feeling like magic.

if you made it this far, you’re already syncing, baby.

go be soft when you need, strong when it calls, and sacred always💕

[reasonsforhope]

"In one of the more remarkable marches of human progress, Bangladesh has reached the point of near-universal electricity access for its citizens.

Coupled with the rapid electrification has been one of the greatest single declines in the poverty rate of a nation ever seen, falling from 44.2% in 1991 to 18.7% in 2022.

In 1991, only 14% of the nation had access to electricity. By 2021, 99% had access.

Granted, half of these households are considered according to Our World in Data to have lower tier access, which accounts for home lighting and charging mobile phones at least 4 hours a day, but the other half are considered as having higher tier access, defined as the added capacity to power high-load appliances (such as fridges) for more than eight hours a day.

Bangladesh is the world’s most densely populated large country with a density of 3,020 per square mile. As the twelfth densest country in the world, the 11 above Bangladesh are all microstates whose combined land area would not even equal half the size of the smallest state in Bangladesh.

To put this into perspective, (a rather silly perspective) if one wanted to reduce the population density of Bangladesh to that of Mongolia, its borders would have to include both all of Africa and all of Eurasia. That’s how crowded Bangladesh is, and what these amazing reductions in poverty truly mean to global human flourishing."

-via Good News Network, January 21, 2025

--

Note: This is the kind of thing I mean when I say that very, very few people in the West know the degree to which absolutely massive societal progress has been happening in a lot of different developing countries.

Especially around access to infrastructure and access to electricity.

The quality of life improvements to electricity access are massive.

It's not just access to phones/the internet (already a huge deal that opens up massive channels of communication and information-sharing).

It's being able to preserve food because you have a fridge, meaning you get to spend less money on food/have less food waste/run fewer errands/have way more flexibility around food.

It's being able to do things after dark, because you have a lightbulb. It's being able to work late, make more of your time.

It's less air pollution because people can use electricity instead of burning fuel for things like heat/light/cooking. (Yes I know these things often use fuel or natural gas still, but they can be done with electricity, and a lot of developing countries are skipping over a natural gas/etc. phase and straight into renewables.)

Hell, it's safety. I had a friend when I was younger who was from southeast Asia. She was horribly injured when she was a kid because her family only had kerosene oil lamps that had to be manually refilled. If her family had had access to electricity, that never would have happened.

It's infrastructure for heating, air conditioning, and water access. It's so, so many things. It's huge.

[cosmicpuzzle]

8th House- What is your danger ⚠️🚫⚡?

Aries on 8th: You are prone to physical danger from sharp subjects such as knifes, kitchen equipments such as microwave oven, cutting utensils, weapons, guns, heat and the Sun. You also are prone to accidents. Your head area must be guarded always.

Taurus on 8th: You are not prone to much physical danger but there are financial dangers such as loans, debts etc. You are also prone to excesses of all kinds, sexual, physical, food etc. Your throat area must be paid attention.

Gemini on 8th: You are prone to danger from social media and your random contacts. You also have problems through your communication. You are prone to danger throuh air element. Thus you may suffer lungs and breathing problems due to pollution, poor air quality etc. You must also avoid smoking.

Cancer on 8th: You are prone to danger from water bodies if you visit beaches, rivers and lakes. You must be careful during swimming, bathtubs etc.

Leo on 8th: You are prone to danger from fire and wildlife animals. You must also avoid overexposure to the Sun. You are at risk of blood pressure and heart ailments.

Virgo on 8th: You are prone to nervous disorders and anxieties and worries. You may also receive wrong medical diagnosis. You may face danger from small pets and infections. You may also have a relative backstabbing you.

Libra on 8th: Your dangers are from wrong relationships and addictive behaviors. You may become too lazy and thus your weight gain may lead to health problems especially related to kidneys

Scorpio on 8th: The danger in your life is related to violence or crimes and underhanded deals. You are exposed to jealosuy, fights or arguments. Anxiety or worries make you prone to accidents, bruises or burns. You are also prone to black magic. Sagittarius on 8th: You must be careful with fire, guns, competitive sports, adventures where you are exposed to accidents. You may also face danger in foreign lands or from foreigners and any mentors.

Capricorn on 8th: You face danger in old age or from old people. Accidents breaking the bones are also possible. Your joints are weak. You may be prone to Government fines.

Aquarius on 8th: You face danger from electricity and electronic items damaged plugs, wires or appliances. You may face danger from friends, social network. Your cardiac rhythm may be very irregular. Your circulatory system can be poor.

Pisces on 8th: You face danger from water bodies like cancer on 8th. Additionally, you face danger from drug overuse, medicines, tablets and any addictive substances such as alcohol, tobacco etc.

Note: Don't freak out as 1 in 12 people will have a sign on their 8th house. Just take precautions.

For Readings DM. For Reports at discount DM

[waepenwifestre]

Let's Talk About Security Culture: Why Keeping Secrets is Cool and Sexy

It's a natural impulse -- if you love crime -- to want to talk about how great it is. And if you hate America, it's only natural to want to share your dreams for its future with the rest of tumblr dot com. It can feel brave and transgressive. And there is a drive to share your soul with the world at the heart of social media. Surely I should be posting the most concrete implications of my politics, right? This is the poster's curse.

Security Culture refers to a set of "best practices" developed over the past several decades, largely (in a US context) coming out of radical environmental groups as they faced intense state repression, infiltration and entrapment. If you're not familiar, there's some fascinating crimethinc write ups to give you a window into that world:

Much of it boils down to: don't talk about crimes, past or forthcoming with people who don't need to know about them, and be mindful of the possibility of surveillance and infiltration. And, we can support each other as a community in minimizing risks, with an eye towards enabling bold action rather than getting bogged down in fears and anxieties. The guidelines that make sense for AG-based trouble-makers are different from the guidelines that make sense for posters, but plenty of common principles apply. To speak briefly to our position here as posters:

First, it bears saying that long term anonymity is nearly impossible to maintain. Unless you've never accessed Tumblr without a vpn, and avoided connections with other ppl who can be associated with you/your location, and never shared pictures without scrubbing metadata, and a bunch of other 100% consistent steps, it's trivial for the state to know who you are.

Second, just because something isn't actively being prosecuted now doesn't mean it can't be prosecuted later. The priorities of the state change and a shift in power towards the right or a growth in radical action from the left can suddenly make it a priority to destroy anarchist networks or just find a few ppl to prosecute as examples (who probably weren't that plugged into larger networks before getting arrested). Advocating for specific anti-government crimes or declarations of intent to commit such crimes are likely prosecutable, and even if charges don't stick, they're an easy vector for legal harassment.

Third, it's worth thinking about heat as separate from prosecutability. There are modes of engagement that may not be directly criminalized but signal that you are someone worth watching. Some people choose to be public in ways that make heat unavoidable. But it's worth noting that heat isn't strictly individualized, that it persists over time but also is going to shrink over time.

It's easy on here, ime, to see yourself as a proud member of the crime fandom but not much of a content creator. And it's easy to feel like you've generated an amount of heat where you're locked into that role. But heat you generated 10 years ago is probably pretty well gone. Heat you generated 5 years ago has faded substantially. It's worth thinking about how the world might shift in the coming years and what doors you want to keep open.

The non-individualized nature of heat also means that leaning into the spiciest of anti-state positions will make it a bad idea for people who are acting out those positions end up tied to you. Loudly talking about how "more people should be doing [X/Y/Z]" unfortunately sets you up to remain distant from people who might be doing or thinking about doing such things.

Which brings me back to: keeping secrets is sexy. Not spelling everything out builds intrigue. You can lay out a theoretical position and leave working out the practical implications of that as an exercise for the reader. There's value in opacity. The poster's curse and the drive to confess are extremely convenient for the state, but we can resist them. We can hold dreams in our hearts that we refuse to offer up to the posting spectacle.

[cryptotheism]

The city was drowned slow, its ankles tied to the moon as the tide rose to meet it.

Blind and reaching, its tongue cracked and split with thirst, its thousand iron throats burning with salt and pollution, desperate to drink, the head of Teleth Avaris sank deeper beneath the waves. A hundred more hydroelectric dynamos. A thousand. Ten thousand. Breathe in, let the sea flood your lungs. Let it pressed its weight upon the sternum of Teleth Avaris, and beat upon it with a tidal rhythm to spur its thousand hearts. Breathe out, feel the salt burn as it escapes your lungs. The sea staunches the atomic piles, distilling itself on the city's fever heat.

There was an impulse to abandon the low places, to cast the unwanted and unworthy into the dark, to climb higher, to build on their corpses. But not here. The pumps refused to die. As the great sprawl of Teleth Avaris was cast to the sea, the pumps continued. Time would march on. The low places were scoured of their materials, their technology, their working masses. Yet the pumps continued. The city built higher, piling itself above the waves, sealing its orphaned thralls in its cast-off shells. Yet the pumps continued. For all the filth the high places cast into the dark, the pumps continued.

The gates were sealed, the old blocks quarantined. Networks of communication died. Diagnostic panels went dark. The nature and structure of the deep was lost to history. Yet the pumps continued.

Time passed. Records were lost. Official inquiries into city infrastructure returned only ancient blueprints and useless maps. Inquiries became expeditions, surveyor teams sent deep to explore the abandoned cargo shafts. The roots of Teleth Avaris became unmapped places. Theories turned to stories. They said the old machines are still running, whole automated armies of maintenance drones. They say legions of lobotomite husks keep the water-wheels turning. Stories turned to legends. They say the deep is a lost nation, a rouge state that lives of the trash from the city above. They say it is a bunker, a guarded enclave where the old lords are cloistered in paranoia. Legends to myth. They say the deeps are a holy kingdom, a paradise where life is long and beautiful and the old world never died. They say it is a city of ghosts, a hell where sinners turn the dynamos for all eternity. Expeditions became pilgrimages. Yet the pumps continued. There was something in the deep.

Slaves combed through the runoff. Prisoners and lobotomites on stilted prosthetics picked life debts in the processing basins, minds mirrored along cybernetic proxies under careful watch. They worked without rest, their hands whittled into probes for testing the value of bodies and machines. Rigged overseers in military armor scanned for mechanical faults and disobedience as field techs kept watch over minds and circuitry.

Time passed. Peasants worked the processing fields. Children born with tall shins and smooth dense flesh sang as they trawled the processing basins. Plumber-knights patrolled the far marches. They returned with songs of strange beasts and great hunts. Irriation-sages tended to the forest reefs where the bodies necrosed to crops. The abandoned processing basins bloomed with lilies in the summer, roots tangled with old bones and neurocircuitry. The king was dead.

Lay-clerics divined wisdom from the bodies in the water. Salt-spoiled bones and corroded motherboards became syllables of the divine hymn. Discarded knuckles were whittled to dice for children's games. Bloated stomachs were dried and tanned for ballgames. It was winter in the deep and the water was cleaner, cooler from snow-melt on high. The Holy and Sacred Order of Water Treatment wore cloaks woven from synthetic furs and reclaimed silver wire. They did not need to, but it helped fight the chill. The druids built shrines of pseudo-driftwood and terracorals about the diagnostic stations. They would sit in silent meditation beneath the wireless towers, relay-staves thrust into the wires in communion with the diagnostic spirits. It would be a good harvest this year. Long live the queen.

At the root of the pumps were the mourning stacks. Where bodies and machines were piled for processing. Work lines became necropoli, morgues for holy burial. Here augments were cut from flesh, metal sorted by its alloy, organs preserved and reclaimed. At the north lay the tomb of the old king, his body embalmed in resin lest he rise again one day.

Above bloomed the sanctum. In a time now lost to history, it was little more than offices and residences. Old-world bioconcrete melded with terrestrial coral, cut and shaped by secret geometries into a cathedral of municipal irrigation. Verandas of sea-green fan corals, colonnades of deep blue staghorn, great arches of maroon finger coral, all carved over centuries into a living basilica of the pumps. Within, beside an empty throne, sat the queen.

(more)

[sightseertrespasser]

Odds of Survival Part 6

Prowl comes up with a grim but viable theory, misses his ESP (Emotional Support Pterodactyl) and Jazz has a “cultural exchange” with Bluestreak.

Credit to @keferon for creating the AU!

———————————————————————

The cascade of Prowl rapidly drumming his fingers on the console was the only sound in the room. His gaze was fixed a million miles away, boring a hole through the far wall.

Hypothesis: Jazz, and possibly others, were secretly cold constructed by the Functionalists for the sole purpose of fighting Quintesson forces.

Many of Jazz’s eccentricities fell into place within that framework. He lacked a subspace, which would make it very difficult to hold onto personal items or contraband. His anatomy was was entirely specialized for battle, all curved angles, narrow gaps and thick plating. Likewise, Jazz’s subdued reaction to injuries could be accounted for if the Functionalists had removed a large portion of his sensory network and replaced his extremities with non-living metal prosthetics.

Prowl shuddered.

He turned from the physical to the mental. Jazz was smart, undeniably, but also severely starved of information.

The Functionalists were exceedingly well practiced in the art of secrecy and subjugation.

Keeping their custom soldiers in the dark about the greater galaxy would significantly reduce the chances of their mechs trying to escape or revolt. The muting, or possible removal of Jazz’s EM field would prevent him from easily emotionally connecting with other mechs and would hamper his ability to detect malicious intent from any handlers.

That alone could account for Jazz’s extremely tactile extroversion. It could be a form of compensation or maybe just a coping method for the loss of sensation. Add a manufactured language barrier, and even if Jazz had had previous brushes with mechs other than his handlers, he wouldn’t have been able to communicate with them. A perfect isolation tactic ensuring total control.

Until now.

Prowl finally straightened, creating a task list to execute once the ship arrived.

- Get Jazz seen by Velocity immediately. Both to treat his injuries properly and to document any evidence of prior abuse. He trusted her to catch and catalogue details only a medic would know.

- Debrief Elita One. He would need to phrase things carefully to ensure Jazz isn’t unfairly imprisoned or executed for possibly being connected to the Functionalists.

- Awake Green from hibernation. Despite his initial reluctance to interact with his therapist mandated “work-life balance tool”, the organic had grown on him. Further more, his Flyt afforded him an entirely neutral sounding board for times when speaking aloud was the best way to sort his processor.

The theory was good, but Prowl could still feel an itch in his processor. He was still missing something. He rubbed at the heat beginning to build under his helm.

Prowl tacked on a fourth task:

- Stick entire helm inside tub of coolant.

The tactician almost quirked an irritated smile as he made his way back towards his brother and the walking processor ache.

At least the likely hood of Jazz dropping us off another building was lower.

(14%)

Marginally.

For now, the Functionalist Creation Theory was still just that. A theory. He needed more information on where Jazz came from, and for that, they’d need to overcome more of their language barrier.

Thankfully, Bluestreak had offered to assist in catching Jazz up to speed on more Common.

Prowl keyed the door open.

“Frugg!”

Primus help him.

Jazz had his back turned to the door, free hand waving away Bluestreaks mispronunciation.

“Na, no R sounds. It’s Fuck.”

“Fugg!” Bluestreaks face was the picture of determined ambition.

“Getting closer! Now drop the Guh and replace it with Kh.” Jazz nodded encouragingly.

“Fruck!” His brother shouted, servos slapping on his knees.

“Nope, you’re putting an R back in there again. Like this: Fuck. Fuh-uck.” Jazz moved his hand through the air like a conductor, enunciating each Phoneme with clean cut clarity. “Try again, you got this man. Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

Jazz turned around at the perfectly pronounced cuss word.

“Heeey! What’s up mother fragger! How’d the meeting with your slag head boss go?”

Prowl turned on his brother so slowly you could have mounted a telescope on him. “Adequately.”

Prowl continued his one sided stare down with Bluestreak, who was lightly clapping his hands together while seemingly fascinated with the far wall.

Jazz was laughing again. “Don’t be too disappointed in him. I do have a much better understanding of Common now.” He stood taking the anesthetic tape with him.

“Aight, it’s your turn, sit down.” Jazz patted the bench.

Prowl broke his stare down and cycled his optics. Bluestreak stopped pretending to stare at the wall.

“That is unnecessary.” He said automatically. “We need to be ready to leave in one breem.”

Jazz crossed his arm over the sling, cocking his head to the side. “Well then you better sit your shiny ass down so we aren’t late.”

Bluestreak kept silent through sheer force of determination to not ruin this moment.

Prowl couldn’t move Jazz, and Jazz knew it.

He sat. Glowering.

“Thank you!” Jazz sang, warbling across the vowels. He tossed the tape to Bluestreak. “I’m pretty talented but handling sci-fi duct tape one handed isn’t for me.”

Bluestreak sputtered briefly, before going to work tearing off small strips.

“How. How? It took us VORNS to get Prowl to take care of himself even a little bit! And you pull it off in less than a cycle? I had to get blown up before he’d even step into a normal med bay AND Smokescreen had to basically drag him in! You could not BRIBE this mech into self care if you had all the shanix in the entire galaxy!”

Bluestreak talked and worked quickly, knowing he was on a time limit before Prowl would try and escape.

“Hah, I feel that. Whenever I go back to the {Shatterdome}, er, “base” they basically gotta corner me to do any kind of check up.” Then Jazz sounded almost nostalgic. “{Ratchet} had it down to a science before he left.”

As the small aches and pains began to dull, Prowl took lead of the conversation for some subtle information gathering.

“So Jazz, how many of your kind are there?”

Prowl ignored the hard flick Bluestreak gave him. However, Jazz seemed unfazed by his bluntness.

He leaned against the wall, looking up slightly in thought. “Uhhh let’s see. The base I’m from has five mecha. There’s me, my little brother {Ricochet}, {Hot Rod}, {Blurr} sort of, aaaand {Vortex}.”

He counted off on his fingers. Then made a so-so sign.

“Well, Vortex isn’t the uh, the person? The real Vortex died a long time ago. Now it’s just a uh.”

Jazz struggled to translate something, unaware of the Praxians steadily growing looks of confusion.

He snapped his fingers, “Dead-Not-Dead location stay? Some people think the Dead-Real-not-Real Vortex is still in there. I think it’s just a {Death trap.} Dangerous to be near positive-positive-positive.”

Jazz made a gesture above his head. “Vortex kills more quintessons than people though, so the high-important-leaders won’t get rid of the thing. They just,” he shrugged a little uselessly. “Keep feeding us to it.”

Is he… Is he describing what I think he is?

“You live with a Sparkeater?” Bluestreak broke the silence.

“Spark-eater?” Jazz sounded out the syllables. “That sounds like a good word for it, yeah.”

At least Prowl could finally confirm Jazz couldn’t detect EM fields. His and Bluestreaks horror saturated the room.

“…You guys okay?” Ah. Just dulled then.

“Yes.” Prowl reeled in his field and elbowed Blue to do the same. “Simply surprised.”

“And concerned.” Bluestreak chipped in. “Is your brother going to be okay? I mean, he’s alone with that thing! Are your leaders going to feed him to the vortex next? Is that what happens to mechs that don’t perform well enough?!”

Jazz startled upright, quickly shaking his head from side to side. “No no no! He’s fine! They won’t do that to Rico, he’s already proved himself plenty and it’s just new fighters they send to Vortex.”

“They don’t always die either, sometimes they just go crazy.” Jazz made a circling motion with his index finger next to his head, stopping awkwardly mid gesture.

“That.” He put his hand down. “Sounded better in my head.”

Bluestreak clasped his servos together behind his helm. Mouth pressed into a thin line.

Prowl twitched as he received a ping from their ship. “Our transport has arrived. We can discuss that later.”

Later.

Yes, let’s discuss the horrifying implications of your entire existence later. Perhaps over some lightly warmed energon?

Maybe he likes Flyts. Jazz can pet Green while they both have mental breakdowns.

With a consciously steady ex-vent, Prowl stood, dipping his doorwings in thanks to Bluestreak. “If you would follow us, I will see to it you are comfortable until we are able to..”

Prowl briefly struggled to find the right term. “Sort out. Your… management situation.”

Jazz nodded, “Right, right. You mentioned transport?”

Gratefully, Prowl gestured for Jazz to follow him towards the airlock.

Before the partial vacuum could cut off their voices once more, Prowl nodded to the narrow window facing the landing strip.

Curiosity pulled visored mech over and when Jazz reached the window, he gasped.

Prowl lifted his doorwings and held out one servo, presenting their ship.

“Welcome aboard the Lost Light.”

———————————————————————

Jazz pov: “Huh. Spark eater. I get it, cause it metaphorically snuffs out peoples spark of life. Cool analogy for a death trap.”

The Praxians pov: “whaT Do YoU mEaN THERE’S A VAMPIRE IN YOUR HOUSE?!”

Little be of extra short hand, these {} denote a word being spoken in English. So Prowl is hearing the sound of the word but doesn’t know its meaning.

Extra bit of world building, the Shatterdome Jazz is from was the one that originally housed all the Combaticons, which is why it has specifically five mecha cradles. It’s also the number one Research and Development Shatterdome which is why you’ve got stuff like Blurr’s turbo fast mecha housed there.

In addition, Ricochet is a fairly normal pilot, but he’s housed there specifically because of his relation to Jazz. You know those tests they run with twins where they’ll send one into space for a month and keep one on earth to compare the differences? Basically Rico is the control group and Jazz gets to try the crazy shit.

- SSTP

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

Taglist:

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[artsninspo]

COUNTERFEIT - three

⇽ part two

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

🍒 authors note: the story is starting to heat up and give you a sneak peak of whats to come.

🍒 pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Faith (Original Character) All my characters are black women.

🍒 word count: ~1.8K

🍒 summary: A day party, unexpected guest, damsel in distress, a lot of stress. Confrontation, unexpected chivalry, back stories & unfavourable truths. This one's messy 🌪️ .

🍒 three - unnatural habitats

I try my best for courage as the city scenes change from outside my window. I can feel Char’s eyes on me. Our argument was conveniently well timed. Now, if I don't show up now to this PR activation of her’s i’ll be toast. The worst sister in the world, problem child extraordinaire. It’s not that I don't want to support Char, it's that Jasonwas invited. In order to secure the necessary funding to make things go off without a hitch she enlisted him knowing his firm's coffers are deep. Knowing Jason, he will be in attendance. It’s the root of my reluctance to attend, not some petty spat and a childish attempt to get even. Char and I didn't speak until last night when she placed the dress she wanted me to wear today on my bed. A pinterest board of context for how I needed to look followed via text along with a detailed itinerary. I reacted to the messages with thumbs up and sat in the make-up artists and hair stylists chairs when they arrived smiling, laughing and talking with them - conceding and playing the role everyone wished to be my permanent disposition.

“Where were you last night?” Char asks, drawing me from my thoughts.

I take a breath before looking over at her, “Out” 

Char rolls her eyes at me before smoothing out her dress - it’s rare vintage and gorgeous. “Out where?” she probes.

“Drinking” I respond being short with her and she sighs.

“Whatever, screw your life up. The rest of us are responsible enough to be your backup plans” she snaps but i’m not in the mood for a back and forth.

“I can act the fool during your event if that's what you want?” I threaten her knowing the social game of chess well. Char glares at me in response. She knows she doesn't have to beg me not to. She knows I'd never knowingly light a match to anything she loves.

“I don't want that - I want the best for you Faith and you're just. I don't know what you're doing!” she shouts.

“I’m 24 and you're 25 Char, what the hell! We’ve got our entire lives ahead of us.”

“How many weddings have we been to the past few summers? How many housewarmings and baby showers?” Char snaps like any one of these guys we grew up with is worth getting to claim her in any way.

“That’s where the party dies Char. How many of our friends are the same?” I ask her.

“Just because you resent Merrick-” Char starts.

“It’s not about Merrick” I snapped, tired of that narrative. “None of this shit is real Char, I don't mind playing pretend but the charade has to end at some point! If mom didn’t have Merrick we could still live the way we do. We have an uncle you know, our fathers brother.”

“Drug money” she whispers well indoctrinated. Char looks at me appalled by my suggestion.

“Because corporations are not just as exploitative and damaging to communities, and the environment?” I ask and she looks at me like I'm a mongrel. Daddy would roll in his grave. That’s the fundamental difference - our father was never self righteous. He never made his choice of employment out to be the right thing - it was just a means to take care of his family. Char was his princess and I was his shadow. 

“Our father killed people and destroyed families with the poison he pumped into the community. Merrick is nothing like that” She snaps as the car comes to a halt. I exit the car and skip photo opps heading straight into the venue I’ve had a hand in decorating - I’m not in the mood to schmooze or network. I head to the bar and get my first round as the music gets good. I throw a few shots back heading over to mingle and maintain my reputation as the ‘fun’ sister. Girls twerk around me but I spare my sisters the embarrassment of my participation. I’m on a cool down when I see Jason watching me with longing. I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much in his company. I want to run but I can’t because we’ve made eye contact. He looks like he’s been going through it and I can't imagine how much it hurts him to see me looking unaffected by our end.

“Hey” he shouts over the music, having cleared the distance between us.

“Hey” I responded.

“You look beautiful” He smiles with a hand on my hip. It should be familiar and refreshing but it just isn't. He pulls me in coming in for a kiss but I turn my head and step out of his hold before looking at him again.

“Thanks” I mutter, not nearly drunk enough to forget we're over.

“Babe, can we talk?” He asks, lips brushing against my ear.

“We spoke already,” I remind him.

“You haven’t been taking my calls,” he says.

“Because Jason I have nothing more to say!” I say louder my impatience growing.

“Then listen to me, I love you” he says and for a moment the declaration moves me. But then something about him reminds me of Rick and it all goes away.

“Then let me go,” I plead. Jason searches my eyes before anger flashes in his. He pulls me to him like this is a bid for attention, a game of cat and mouse - a way to spice up our relationship and not a breakup.

“You want more attention, I get it. I’m here. I'll work less hours and make more time for us Faith. I love you - stop being like this” he says confirming my suspicions. It's a testament to how well I’ve gotten to know him and how little he’s been paying attention. The whole thing makes me upset and I pull away but he grabs my arms.

“Hey!” A deep voice says in warning. I relax, relieved security is here but I turn to see D’s cousin Rio. His expression is displeased as he sizes Jason up. Jason releases my arms - caught in his below the board behaviour. He straightens and my head spins. Rio’s the last person I expected here or defending me. He gives me a reassured nod before glaring at Jason like Jason has lost his everloving mind. Jason goes to grab me again before Rio steps between us.

“She’s my girl, move” Jason snaps.

“Doesn’t look like it” Rio responds unmoved.

“Why don’t you go and mind your business?” Jason snaps.

“Faith, is this your boyfriend?” Rio asks, casting a look over his shoulder at me, all the while still using his body as a shield.

“I know everyone she knows and I don’t know you” Jason snaps.

“You can do better than this, ma” Rio taunts with a smile that’s only purpose is to provoke Jason.

“Ma?! Faith, who the hell is this guy?’ Jason snaps ready to make a scene.

“Jason, call me when you aren’t drunk” I shout, needing to diffuse the situation for Char’s sake.

“Faith, don’t walk away from me” he shouts, stepping around Rio to grab at me again and it happens so fast I’m shocked. Jason is grabbed by security and his wallet is plucked from his pocket. Another guard snaps a picture of his license.

“Don’t worry, he won’t be allowed back” the guard says. I force a mortified nod as security makes quick work of throwing Jason out discreetly. A few eyes are on us, Char among them.

Fuck, I curse to myself.

“Thanks” I mumble and Rio turns to face me.

“Let me guess, finance?” He says.

My head is still spinning. “What?”

“He works in finance so he thinks people can be bought? And has shit to lose that's why he aint swing on me for talking to his ‘girl’” Rio says with a knowing, taunting light in his eyes. It kills all of the chivalry of his actions.

“Yes, finance” I admit and he looks me over again like I can do better. 

“Well D would’ve wanted me to look out,” he shrugs cooly.

“Thanks” I respond, feeling deflated.

“I’ll tell the staff you're a friend of the family, you need anything let us know” he comments glancing around the venue.

“Appreciate it” I mutter seeing Char’s wide eyes behind him as she makes her way over.

“No worries. But don’t ever come to the bar dressed like that you hear?” He winks walking away.

“Who was that? He’s hot!” Char asks as Rio disappears. 

“D’s cousin” I answer honestly.

“How do you know him? I don’t remember this cousin.” she asks.

“He was around when I saw D” I omit the full truth and she looks in his direction some more.

“He’s hot” she repeats and I smile.

“He’s not your type”

“What?” she asks.

“I'm pretty sure he doesn’t fit your criteria” I tell her.

“What does he do?” She asks.

“He looks like he does whatever he wants.” I tell her heading back to the bar. The bartender hands me a cherry margarita before I can order.

“From the boss” he smiles and I do too. My sister watches me with a hundred questions when I don’t pay and I know it’ll be a long interrogation. I wonder if Rio’s actions are genuine kindness or flirting - either way the man is attentive and clearly dangerous. I head home shortly after the incident, skipping out on the after parties. When I wake up I see a slew of emails from Jason and roll my eyes. I see a message from char saying she’s doing hot yoga and relax until my phone rings. I check the caller ID with one eye open and see Diego’s name. Relief washes over me and I answer.

“Hello”

“Char called”  Diego says on the other end of the video call.

“Yeah?” I ask and he nods.

“Asking if you were involved with my cousin” Diego says and I roll my eyes.

“Jason was sloshed and getting aggressive instead of my sister intervening your cousin did.” I explain.

“I know he told me, then asked me if guys like Jason are your type” Diego says with a knowing expression.

“We both know he isn’t” I admit. “How's the play off season going at the bar?” I ask.

“Good. You low on money?” he asks.

“No, I've been living off the tips and saving my salary. It’s nice.” I admit.

“Rio’s out of town next weekend so if you want to work let me know” he offers.

“I’m in” I tell him.

“Good”

“Did Char tell you she thinks Rio is hot?” I ask and his eyes bug out.

“Rio isn’t her type, he has a son and two girlfriends” D says, surprising even me.

“Two” I exclaim shocked and D nods. “And he’d pretend Char’s the only one,” I add, shaking my head.

“Good at it too,” D scoffs, making me laugh.

“Then he’s exactly her type, she still believes in playing pretend” I tell Jason who swallows.

“Both of you need to stay away from him.” D says before changing the subject to something lighter.

group project - COUNTERFEIT (RIO)

authors note: checking in with readers. the first chapter did well but the second not so much. idk if you all are busy or tired with the state of the world, tired of rio or adjusting to the change in POV. Whatever the case I'm willing to pause updating this story for now and revisit updating it later.

This story is a slower burn than Forgiveless but I promise all the mess and spice you love and more is on the horizon.

Comment, Like & Reblog if you want more of this story.

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[3liza]

sociopathic capitalist urban developers as a class have managed to fool an entire generation of self-identified leftist "YIMBYs" into bulldozing currently-occupied low income housing and functioning green space including the mature, carbon-sequestering, heat-protectant trees everyone is always crying about to build cardboard "luxury" slums for the Seattle ruling class to use as barbie houses and everyone gets mad at me when i suggest disrupting steady occupancy, neighborhood social support networks, and more intangible established occupancy benefits like not having to deal with packing and unpacking etc which takes at least a year for anyone with any level of dysfunction to recover from, might be bad, and that developers are lying to us about specifically the "need" for destructive new building construction, and that planting their shitty non native decorative trees will replace the mature native growth they had to rip up to build it. like what is it specifically about housing barons that makes leftists so happy to abandon the principles of "believe the capitalists when they tell you their goal is to make a profit above all else". you can literally go on reddit, type in 5-over-1, and find developers and people who work with developers going "yeah we use the cheapest possible materials and cut as many corners as we can make appear 'legal' to build these things, because it makes money". look up "low income housing closing", no one ever shows me numbers on how much low income housing is being lost because those aren't the cool numbers of grim, forward-thinking internet leftist stoicism but actual project housing is constantly being shut down and everyone kicked out because it turns out people who have a lot of problems sometimes have those problems visibly in public and this offends the Bainbridge Island parasites.

sorry folks we had to evict 20 poors who had been living in the Sundew Arms garbage apartment block from 1960 with below-market rent in order to build the new and improved condo, which will actually house fewer people per square foot regardless of the number of units because the rent will be higher and high income people don't have roommates or live with family and well all these shiny new amenities and the Peloton in the communal gym and the mini dog piss park and so on....we have to charge at least $2500. you understand. it's the market stupid. we're Building Housing you can't criticize us for Building Housing. there's a Housing Shortage.

well the government says we have to earmark 10% of the new building to Low Income Housing which means we will probably just pay the nominal fine instead or possibly a single unit will maybe at some point be gingerly allotted to someone who has been on the Section 8 waiting list for hang on let me look it up..."randomly via lottery or several years during which you will be continually means tested and/or kicked off the waiting list without notification or explanation". great. i love urban density. this is so walkable. this cheap carpet offgassing is so identity. are we really that stupid

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - May 8-14

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles!

1. An ink that boosts coral settlement by 20 times could help rebuild reefs worldwide

“Biologists have recently discovered that certain rocky pink algae, called crustose coralline algae (CCA), play an important role in attracting coral larvae and encouraging them to settle on the reef. [… Scientists] developed a transparent ink material infused with metabolites derived from CCA[, d]ubbed SNAP-X[….] By applying SNAP-X to rocks or other surfaces, researchers can create an inviting microhabitat that helps coral larvae settle and grow.”

2. New Legislation Offers Vital Support for Habitat Conservation in Cities and Towns

“The bill establishes a new dedicated investment of $1 million annually for the Urban Bird Treaty program[….] In addition to supporting birds, the program supports efforts that can deliver tangible benefits to people and businesses, from increasing green space and enhancing outdoor recreation to improving resilience to flooding and minimizing urban heat islands.”

3. Has Maine learned how to make heat pumps lower electricity costs for all?

“Over the next three years, the incentives in the plan are forecast to support 38,000 new whole-home residential heat pump systems — including 6,500 in low-income households — and weatherization for 9,900 houses. […] This strategy should decrease annual heating costs by more than $1,000 each for homes that switch to heat pumps [… and] suppress electricity rates by more than $490 million over the long term.”

4. Montana court strikes down ban on gender-affirming care for trans minors

“[Because t]he ban violates the rights to privacy and free speech guaranteed by the Montana Constitution, and it amounts to discrimination based on viewpoint, [… the court] issued a permanent injunction against its enforcement. […] Since the ruling is based on the Montana Constitution, not the U.S. Constitution, trans youth, their families, and health care providers are protected from any potential negative outcome at the U.S. Supreme Court[….]”

5. Solar, batteries and an EV charger win funding for energy resilience scheme

“[… T]he fund provides grants for projects across AusNet’s electricity distribution network […] that help build long-term community energy resilience and provide support to communities during severe weather events. [… Recipients include] nearly $50,000 for the Taggerty Community Progress Group to create a solar hybrid microgrid at its Community Hub which will act as an emergency hub for the local community.”

May 1-7 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[mueritos]

Thoughts on transandrophobia?

I'm not really sure. I go back and forth on it a lot, and I don't know if transandrophobia is the right word to use. I still think that at the end of the day...it's still essentially trans/misogyny that is affecting us, just in a different way. at the same time, I don't disagree with the idea of transandrophia--I've faced anti-transmasculine oppression from others and felt like I wasn't able to articulate to other people what was happening.

I don't think transmascs or transmen are separated from misognynistic oppression--no one is--but I fear transmascs are so afraid of being associated with "female based oppression" in order to not be seen as women, but that's the core of our oppression. Not because people believe that we are "fake men", but because they don't even believe we stop being women at all. They hate us because we've chosen to liberate ourselves and they can't control our "wombs". I think our oppression is always rooted in misogyny because the worst thing you can do is choose to leave your womanhood, and whatever "privilege" we assume afterward can very easily be seen as punishment for it. "you're a man now so I can hit you right?" "well if you're a man now, you better go outside and start working in the heat with your dad", the sexual and domestic violence we face, the unemployment rates, etc and etc...and all of those experiences are not that dissimilar from what trans women and cisgender women experience.

so I don't know. in many ways I try really hard to view my life through the love and strength and wins I've gained since transitioning instead of how to name the violence I may or may not face, and I also know that comes with a loooot of privilege because on the daily...I really don't face much transphobia (despite it always being on the forefront of my brain) compared to other trans folks. i've chosen to be online less and less and it's helped me build a bubble of social networks and community. I think what I'm trying to say is that I learned how to connect with people in authentic ways and realized that the fears I have about violence and gender-based discrimination is not that different from the fears the cisgender women and men in my life have.

so i dunno. I go back and forth on it, I think.

[ahmed1132]

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #594)✅️

Hi, I am Ahmed from Palestine, from the northern part of Gaza City. I am 33 years old, married, and a father of two children. I live in the Jabalia refugee camp with my family, which consists of 19 members, in a four-story house.

Since the beginning of the war on Gaza on October 7th, life in northern Gaza has been extremely difficult, lacking basic necessities due to the siege imposed by the Israeli army on the northern part of the Gaza Strip. The occupation has blocked food, medicine, water, electricity, and even communication networks. Thousands of airstrikes have been carried out, and hundreds of massacres have been committed, mostly affecting innocent civilians, the majority of whom are children and women. The infrastructure, thousands of homes, and civilian facilities have been destroyed.

On May 12th, 2024, the Israeli army besieged the Jabalia camp for the second time and ordered us to evacuate, informing us that it was a military operation zone and a dangerous combat area. We were forced to leave our homes in the camp and flee under heavy bombardment and intense gunfire, navigating through the rubble and bodies lying in the streets and on the roads. We became homeless, with no food or water. During this difficult siege, I lost two of my brothers, Abdullah, 30 years old, and Atallah, 26 years old, due to random shelling and airstrikes on the camp.

Why am I collecting donations?

After more than 15 months of war, on January 19th, 2025, the ceasefire came into effect, and we returned to the camp to check on our home. However, we were shocked by the extent of the destruction and devastation in the camp. The homes had turned into piles of rubble, and we could no longer recognize the places or roads due to the scale of the damage. Our house was completely destroyed, leaving us homeless. Now, my family and I live in a small tent that is insufficient for the number of family members. It offers no privacy, no bathroom, no kitchen, and it does not protect us from the summer heat or the winter cold. We are living in an overcrowded environment with displaced people, chaos, piles of garbage, and the spread of diseases, especially among the displaced children.

This war has forced us to live in extremely harsh conditions and an environment that is unfit for human life. We continue to suffer every day from the ongoing war, repeated displacement, lack of resources and essentials, fear, pain, and oppression. Not to mention the hardship of fetching water, standing in long queues for basic needs, and struggling to find food—another challenge added to our suffering in this devastating war that is destroying people, buildings, trees, and animals. All of this has exhausted our bodies and deeply affected our mental well-being.

Therefore, I am reaching out to you through this humanitarian platform to help me support my family, rebuild our destroyed home, and contribute to providing the basic necessities of life so that I can live with my family with dignity and freedom.

• How will these donations be used?

1) An apartment will be rented to temporarily house my family until the reconstruction of the destroyed house is completed, as an alternative to a tent, at a cost of $600 per month for at least two years. (An estimated total cost of $14,000 over the two years.)

2) Purchase the basic tools and equipment necessary to furnish the rented apartment at an estimated cost of $5,000.

3) Purchase clothing and basic necessities for all family members at an estimated cost of $6,000.

4) Remove the rubble of the destroyed house and rebuild it at an estimated cost of $140,000.

5) Purchase the tools and equipment necessary to furnish all apartments in the new house at an estimated cost of $35,000.

• How does your donation and support make a difference?

Your support and donation is a noble humanitarian cause that supports and strengthens our resilience during the war. This contribution, even if it is small, will make a huge difference in my life and the life of my family.

Please help us to live in safety and peace, to start over to achieve our ambitions and dreams, and to create a safe environment for our children that will provide them with a bright future.

[singularity-sam]

Hi, I am Ahmed from Palestine, from the northern part of Gaza City. I am 33 years old, married, and a father of two children. I live in the Jabalia refugee camp with my family, which consists of 19 members, in a four-story house.

Since the beginning of the war on Gaza on October 7th, life in northern Gaza has been extremely difficult, lacking basic necessities due to the siege imposed by the Israeli army on the northern part of the Gaza Strip. The occupation has blocked food, medicine, water, electricity, and even communication networks. Thousands of airstrikes have been carried out, and hundreds of massacres have been committed, mostly affecting innocent civilians, the majority of whom are children and women. The infrastructure, thousands of homes, and civilian facilities have been destroyed.

On May 12th, 2024, the Israeli army besieged the Jabalia camp for the second time and ordered us to evacuate, informing us that it was a military operation zone and a dangerous combat area. We were forced to leave our homes in the camp and flee under heavy bombardment and intense gunfire, navigating through the rubble and bodies lying in the streets and on the roads. We became homeless, with no food or water. During this difficult siege, I lost two of my brothers, Abdullah, 30 years old, and Atallah, 26 years old, due to random shelling and airstrikes on the camp.

Why am I collecting donations?

After more than 15 months of war, on January 19th, 2025, the ceasefire came into effect, and we returned to the camp to check on our home. However, we were shocked by the extent of the destruction and devastation in the camp. The homes had turned into piles of rubble, and we could no longer recognize the places or roads due to the scale of the damage. Our house was completely destroyed, leaving us homeless. Now, my family and I live in a small tent that is insufficient for the number of family members. It offers no privacy, no bathroom, no kitchen, and it does not protect us from the summer heat or the winter cold. We are living in an overcrowded environment with displaced people, chaos, piles of garbage, and the spread of diseases, especially among the displaced children.

This war has forced us to live in extremely harsh conditions and an environment that is unfit for human life. We continue to suffer every day from the ongoing war, repeated displacement, lack of resources and essentials, fear, pain, and oppression. Not to mention the hardship of fetching water, standing in long queues for basic needs, and struggling to find food—another challenge added to our suffering in this devastating war that is destroying people, buildings, trees, and animals. All of this has exhausted our bodies and deeply affected our mental well-being.

Therefore, I am reaching out to you through this humanitarian platform to help me support my family, rebuild our destroyed home, and contribute to providing the basic necessities of life so that I can live with my family with dignity and freedom.

• How will these donations be used?

1) An apartment will be rented to temporarily house my family until the reconstruction of the destroyed house is completed, as an alternative to a tent, at a cost of $600 per month for at least two years. (An estimated total cost of $14,000 over the two years.)

2) Purchase the basic tools and equipment necessary to furnish the rented apartment at an estimated cost of $5,000.

3) Purchase clothing and basic necessities for all family members at an estimated cost of $6,000.

4) Remove the rubble of the destroyed house and rebuild it at an estimated cost of $140,000.

5) Purchase the tools and equipment necessary to furnish all apartments in the new house at an estimated cost of $35,000.

• How does your donation and support make a difference?

Your support and donation is a noble humanitarian cause that supports and strengthens our resilience during the war. This contribution, even if it is small, will make a huge difference in my life and the life of my family.

Please help us to live in safety and peace, to start over to achieve our ambitions and dreams, and to create a safe environment for our children that will provide them with a bright future.

I hope this helps!