#electric failure

[newyorkthegoldenage]

This is not a test: on August 17, 1959, a 500-block section of Manhattan suffered a blackout that lasted 13 hours. A newsstand offered the afternoon papers for those who wanted to read about it (presumably beyond the blackout area).

Photo: Joe Scherschel for Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock/Life magazine

[john-van-schilt]

Go on!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

need more cyberverse wavewave fic of these two losers like i need oxygen. husbands who are cringe but somehow think the other is way worse (they're both horrible )

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[ryuubff]

it's probably obvious that. sebastian is my favorite. sorry. i also like sam though hes cute

also in my first spring i kept fishign up flounders (because . BECAUSE I LOVE FISHING) and i found out only sebastian somewhat likes them and just kept giving it to him.

[commonsensecommentary]

Flash forward 5-10 years: America’s junkyards will be filled with rusting electric vehicles whose batteries are leaking toxic heavy metals that are leaching into the ground water. Environmentally-friendly? Who believes this propaganda?

[regular-gnome]

this week is going great

[dosesofcommonsense]

Are we changing the climate of one person one auto fire at a time?

[techmomma]

Oh! In addition to the charging station being down, my phone might be kaput!

Y'know what you need to find (and usually USE) other charging stations? A phone! With an online map! Because finding a new fucking charging station is a reverse russian roulette, where most of the chambers suck and only one out of so many won't kill you!

You know what you can't do when you're low on charge? Go driving around, wasting your charge trying to find a different station to charge at! Because if my car fully loses charge while I'm out on the road, then I gotta call a towtruck! Those ain't cheap!

The best analogy for gas cars is imagine you have a car that can hold about 10 miles of gas. It sucks, but so long as there's a gas station, it's fine. It's special gas that's about .10/gallon so who cares.

Your car needs a specific kind of nozzle to fill your tank. Not every gas station has your nozzle!

In theory, there's about 12 different gas stations every couple of miles. Great!

The reality is 11 of those 12 gas stations don't work. They're broken, they're shut down, they've been decomissioned, and sure, there is an app that can tell you, but has the station been updated in the app? No! So generally, you won't know which ones do and don't work, until you get there! (On your limited amount of gas, as a reminder.)

So, really, on your ten-mile tank, you have... like 2 gas stations that you can go to. Within 10 miles.

And for one of them, it means sitting in their parking lot for 2 hours.

Now the good news is you found a gas station within walking distance of your house. It's a 2-hour station, but since it's within walking distance, you can park your car, go home and hang out for 2 hours, and then go grab your car. Not ideal, but it works.

Today though, that gas station is down. You have no idea when it'll be back up. Maybe it'll be back up today! Maybe a week from now! Maybe the gas company will decide it doesn't care and will just leave it broken forever! Who knows~ But it's down and you've got about 2 or 3 miles in your gas tank left. Do you want to risk wasting those 2 or 3 miles you have left in your tank trying to find a station that works?

And all of these gas stations are moving to solely paying by phone. One of them might take card! Hope it's one that works!

So you need your phone to pay for gas. Your phone that is currently, probably dead and probably needs to be replaced.

So uh. Hey. If you have some money to spare. I might need some to buy a new phone. So. If you want to throw anything my way, I have a paypal. If you would like to toss some monies my way for the inevitable phone replacement I am going to have to make. And loss of income for today because I can't go to work today.

[geoz-n]

It took me over 10 rewatches but I just realized an electrical event starts both of the mysteries in each season of dghda.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Everyone knows about the blackouts of 1965 and 1977 (and those more recent), but few realize that a 500-block section of Manhattan lost power for 13 hours on August 17, 1959. New Yorkers coped in different ways. Here in an automat, they dine by candlelight.

Photo: Joe Scherschel for Time & Life Pictures/Shutterstock/Life magazine

[lgbtqreads]

New Releases: August 20, 2024

Prince of the Palisades by Julian Winters When roguish Prince Jadon of Îles de la Rêverie travels to America to clean up his image after a horribly public break up gone viral, romance is absolutely NOT on the agenda. Carefully planned photo ops with puppies? Yes. Public appearances at a Santa Monica art gallery? Absolutely. A pink-haired, film-obsessed hottie from the private school where he’s…

[randlemartin]

the quinn and babyface scene is imo the most fucked up part of mota and its stuck with me the most and it sucks that quinn kind of disappears because i wish we got to delve into what going through all that and having to actively make a decision that means your crew member dies does to a person (and maybe even interrogate why he was even put in that position in the first place)

[sfarxuri]

their counter parts were ready that time, have to plan something else to catch them off guard doofus!

[the-lord-of-the-things]

Riding the Rails