#green energy share latest news

[businessskibat]

ntpc green energy ipo gmp investorgain today in Hindi | बढ़ते अवसरों का लाभ उठाने का सुनहरा मौका 

ntpc green energy ipo gmp investorgain today in Hindi : एनटीपीसी ग्रीन एनर्जी लिमिटेड (NGEL) भारत की अग्रणी नवीकरणीय ऊर्जा कंपनियों में से एक है, जो सौर और पवन ऊर्जा परियोजनाओं में कार्यरत है। इस कंपनी ने हाल ही में ₹10,000 करोड़ का आईपीओ लॉन्च किया है, जो पूरी तरह से नए इक्विटी शेयरों का इश्यू है। आईपीओ में बुक बिल्ड इश्यू शामिल है, और इसके माध्यम से कंपनी ने निवेशकों को पर्यावरण अनुकूल…

[jannetranews]

Adani Group पर रिश्वतखोरी और धोखाधड़ी के आरोप, अमेरिकी कोर्ट में सुनवाई और गिरफ्तारी वारंट जारी

Gautam Adani Alleged Bribery and Fraud : भारत के सबसे बड़े उद्योगपति गौतम अडानी (Gautam Adani) और उनके सहयोगियों के खिलाफ अमेरिका में रिश्वतखोरी और धोखाधड़ी के गंभीर आरोप लगाए गए हैं। इन आरोपों के कारण अडानी ग्रुप (Adani Group) के लिए मुश्किलें बढ़ती जा रही हैं, और अब अमेरिकी कोर्ट (US court) में सुनवाई के दौरान अडानी (Gautam Adani) और उनके भतीजे सागर अडानी के खिलाफ गिरफ्तारी वारंट जारी कर दिए गए…

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Month - August 2024

1.Negative Power Prices Hit Europe as Renewable Energy Floods the Grid

European power markets are experiencing a notable shift as renewable energy sources, particularly wind and solar, become a larger part of the energy mix. On Wednesday, power prices in several European markets, including Germany, dipped below zero due to a surge in green electricity production.

2. Taiwan introduces ban on performances by captive wild animals

Live performances by wild animals held in captivity, including performances by dolphins, tigers, and other non-domesticated mammals, will no longer be permitted in Taiwan under new Ministry of Agriculture (MOA) regulations.

3. FTC bans fake online reviews, inflated social media influence; rule takes effect in October

The FTC voted unanimously to ban marketers from using fake reviews, such as those generated with AI technology, and other misleading advertising practices.

The ban also forbids marketers from exaggerating their own influence by, for example, paying for bots to inflate their follower count.

4. Chinese drones will fly trash out of Everest slopes

Come autumn, Nepal will deploy heavy lifter drones to transport garbage from the 6,812-metre tall Ama Dablam, south of Everest. This will be the first commercial work an unmanned aerial vehicle does in Nepal’s high-altitude zone.

The heavy lifter from China’s biggest drone maker, Da Jiang Innovations (DJI), will take on tasks traditionally handled by Sherpas. Officials believe it will help reduce casualties on Everest.

5. Swiss scientists have found a way to use the whole cocoa fruit to make chocolate and not just taking beans and discarding the rest.

Kim Mishra (L) and Anian Schreiber (R) cooperated on the new chocolate making process

Food scientists in Switzerland have come up with a way to make chocolate using the entire cocoa fruit rather than just the beans - and without using sugar.

The chocolate, developed at Zurich’s prestigious Federal Institute of Technology by scientist Kim Mishra and his team includes the cocoa fruit pulp, the juice, and the husk, or endocarp.

6. Six-year-old boy found in Vietnam forest after five days

A six-year-old boy who was missing for five days has been found deep in a forest in Vietnam. Dang Tien Lam, who lives in the northwestern Yen Bai province, was playing in a stream with his nine siblings on 17 August when he wandered into the hills and got lost, local reports said.

He was found on Wednesday by local farmers who heard a child's cry while they were clearing a cinnamon field close to the forest.

7. Lego plans to make half the plastic in bricks from renewable materials by 2026

Lego plans to make half the plastic in its bricks from renewable or recycled material rather than fossil fuels by 2026, in its latest effort to ensure its toys are more environmentally friendly.

The Danish company last year ditched efforts to make bricks entirely from recycled bottles because of cost and production issues. At the moment, 22% of the material in its colourful bricks is not made from fossil fuels.

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[roohu123]

[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part1 !

multipart story! find masterlist here

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Y/N and Charles had been inseparable since childhood. They met on the first day of school, when Charles, a shy boy with striking green eyes, had been sitting alone during lunch. Y/N, with her boundless energy and warm smile, had plopped down beside him and declared they were going to be best friends. And they were.

Over the years, they shared countless memories. They would often sneak out of their houses at night to sit by the waterfront, talking about their dreams and fears. Charles, who loved racing, would talk endlessly about becoming a Formula 1 driver, and Y/N, who adored his passion, would listen intently, offering unwavering support.

One evening, they were at their favorite spot by the water. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over everything. Y/N watched Charles as he animatedly discussed his latest race, his eyes sparkling with excitement. She loved how passionate he was, how he never gave up, even when things got tough. It was in moments like these that she felt her heart swell with feelings she was too afraid to voice.

"Y/N, you’re the best," Charles said, grinning. "I don't know what I’d do without you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering. "I’m just glad I get to be here with you, Charles."

Another time, they were at a party. Charles, always the life of the event, was in the middle of a group of friends, telling a story. Y/N stood on the outskirts, watching him with a mixture of pride and longing. He caught her eye and gave her a wink, causing her to blush and look away. She knew she was in love with him, but she didn’t want to ruin their friendship by confessing.

Then there was the day he had his first major racing win. Y/N was there, cheering the loudest. When he crossed the finish line, she ran to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"I knew you could do it!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding with pride and something deeper.

Charles laughed, lifting her off the ground. "We did it, Y/N! We did it!"

But the moment she cherished the most was when they sat by the fire at a family camping trip. The night was cold, and the fire crackled between them. Charles looked at her, his face illuminated by the flames.

"Y/N," he said softly, "you’re my rock. I couldn’t have done any of this without you."

She smiled, her heart aching with unspoken love. "And I’ll always be here for you, Charles. No matter what."

Their bond seemed unbreakable, and Y/N cherished every moment, even as her feelings for him grew stronger. She knew she would rather have him as a friend than risk losing him by revealing her heart.

But one day a few years later, everything changed.

They were sitting in Charles' living room, watching a movie. Charles turned to her, a hesitant smile on his face.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said.

Her heart skipped a beat. "What is it, Charles?"

"I’ve met someone," he said, his eyes shining with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "Her name is Camille, and she’s amazing. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now and she is so lovely. You'll love her!"

Her heart stopped. Y/N's insides felt cold as she felt her heart shatter like glass. Tears started to form and her breath got stuck in her throat. She felt the world tilt on its axis. She forced a smile as hard as it was, her happiness vanishing. "That’s so great, Charlie!. I’m really happy for you."

He grinned, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I knew you’d be so happy. I won't bother you every weekend for a movie anymore Y/N/N! I just want to thank you for putting up with me for so long. You’re the best."

She nodded, trying to keep her composure. "Always."

As Charles went on about Camille, Y/N's mind raced. She knew things would never be the same. She would have to make a choice: to stay close and risk her heart breaking every day and potentially damage his relationship or to distance herself out of respect for Camille and protect her own feelings. But right now, all she could do was listen and pretend to be happy for him, while her heart shattered silently.

Y/N stood up abruptly, needing an excuse to leave. "I just remembered I have to help my mom with something. I’ll see you later, Charles."

"Are you sure?," he said, looking a bit puzzled. She nodded. Charles muttered, "See you later, Y/N."

She walked out of his house, her chest tight with suppressed emotions. Once outside, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her unspoken love pressing down on her. She knew things would never be the same again.

And with that realization, she made her decision. She would distance herself, for both their sakes, even if it meant breaking her own heart.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvur @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff

[merbear25]

Hello ! I hope you're doing well <3 Spookie season almost reachs his end, i hope you'll have a nice halloween night !

Again here to request something for our dear Mad scientist. Something special ~ We all know Caesar is a freak, but his how deep is his loves for death, pain and chemical warfare ? How much does it affect him... May I request a NSFW fanfic of him, sharing a pleasant moment with one of his colleague or assistant ( a x.reader fem ) : Testing the new formula of his latest deadly creation on a subject behind the protective glass of his private lab. The moans of pain and cries of agony lasting for long minutes being a sweet lullaby to his ears. And sharing this with the woman at his side was driving him insane to the point he couldn't hide the depth of his excitement. It could be a established or unestablished relationship. Maybe a x.reader not as innocent or submissive as usual ~ This idea was clearly based on the scenes where he describe his experimentation, like the one with KX launcher, or Koro gas ~

Art by me on @ask-caesarclown-shurororo

I'm always down to write darker themes, so thanks for sending this in. I hope you like it💜💜

Gasps for air, bursting flesh, and the pleading look of panic left him in glee. The flush on his cheeks complimented the heat rising within him as he squirmed and shifted with excitement. Such glorious sounds and delightful imagery sent him into a frenzy. He was restless, needing to release this pent-up energy. That was when it dawned on him—his astute assistant. You’d be the one entrusted to rid him of these overwhelming urges.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, mentions of death, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, 69-ing, orgasm denial, implied creampie

The thrilling chill of death (Caesar)

Collapsing one right after the other, each person had their lungs seared with most having no more than slight discoloration on their necks. That tingling feeling was creeping up on him again. Watching the henchmen look at him with such heart-sinking betrayal when those doors closed and the toxins seeped in and that light in their eyes flickering until it went out completely—a thrill like nothing else.

A familiar heat nipped at his cheeks the longer he looked at them. Tilting his head from side to side, he examined each person’s reaction to the chemical carefully. Some exhibited greenish boils around their throats, while others maintained a green tint up til their untimely deaths. A boyish grin played on his lips at the thought of further testing. 

“What a promising future you have,” he chirped at the clouds dissipating into a light mist. The adoration he felt was making him salivate. He placed his hand upon the glass, not even holding back the furious blush on his cheeks.

He couldn’t help the little sway of his body when he journeyed back over to the computer. Humming to himself, the clicks of the keys matched his uncharacteristically upbeat mood. Pictures of what would become of the victims played in his mind, further sending him into a fit of excitement. However, the rhythmic beating of his thrill seeking heart was not the only part of him pulsating. With all this delight swarming around him, there was bound to be an effect on him elsewhere.

His eye twitched in slight irritation, when feeling a stir in his pants. The thought of setting a moment aside to take care of it himself crossed his mind, but a thoughtful knock on the metal door side-tracked this idea. There you were, prepared with the requested documents as always. His fingers tapped on the doorframe as he took a closer look at you, trying to gauge just what exactly your deal was.

Your eyes flickered over to the glass walls still containing the dead bodies, but his never left you. They held onto the rise and fall of your chest and the dilation in your eyes. Such subtle shifts that indicated interest, which bordered arousal. He stepped aside to welcome you in. 

“Would you like to take a closer look?” After he slammed the door behind you, his pearly white smile and glowing eyes kept on your heels.

You kneeled down to get a better look at what had become of these men. No fear pumped through your veins, just morbid curiosity that alluded to more degenerate interests. He leaned down, allowing his long raven hair to tickle your skin. “Do you want to see it in action?”

“Yes, actually…” The dark desire to witness death first-hand was something you forbade yourself from ever disclosing to others. However, Caesar was different. He would never be turned away from one who harbored such impurity. How could he when he was the same?

A symphony of hissing gas blended with soft chuckles—an orchestral performance to which the body going limp behind the thick paned glass was forcibly mute. Banging on the clear material soon turned into faint taps. An ill-fated guinea pig that was plucked from the litter and served its purpose, the hand of death held it closely while the gas filled the chamber in thick green clouds.

The sweet embrace of death—sweet to the onlooker but bitter to the one it was casted on. The orchestrator remained at attention not quite ready to pull himself away from the show as the final hums of the finale lingered. Their whispers caressed his ears, further bewitching him in the sounds of blissful horrors. His unsettling grin was now pressed into a content smile, his lips twitching slightly. He wet them as if to savor the remains of tragedy.

Tilting his head up to the ceiling, he let out a deep sigh. “You know, there’s nothing quite like the scent of death and despair to really get the blood pumping.” The gentle shift of his head towards you sent a thrill up your spine. His eyes peered down at you, their golden color practically dancing with anticipation. “But, I suppose you already know that.”

His perceptive remark tugged at the ball tightening in your chest. You could feel the sparks of witnessing death surging through you. The intensity in your eyes matched his, and the subtle nod you gave him only whetted his appetite.

Briefly, he pulled his attention back to the caged body. “Dying behind bars, well glass in this case,” he chuckled while looking at the lifeless form. “No hope of escape, only agony.” His voice was becoming higher pitched, mocking one of those who followed him so blindly.

“Watching the light in his eyes fade was truly remarkable,” you mentioned in a dreamy voice, recalling that faith he’d put in your Master getting snatched away.

“Yes…” he drew out. “It’s enough to make one giddy.” His eyes darted back to you. His lips stretched into a sinister grin once more as your gratification was becoming more and more apparent. He drummed his fingers on his thigh and clicked his tongue. “The night is far too young to call it quits now. Why don’t we bring in another? Just to really test all the ins and outs.”

The dragging of the corpse was promptly followed by promises that flowed past his lips so easily. Uplifting, inspirational, drenched with hope: each word had thorns hidden beneath the surface. The piercing blades stabbed into their sides once that moment of clarity came fatally late.

This one was a screamer. Even behind the barrier those choked cries for help carried through to both of you, and you couldn’t stop your heart from racing. Your pupils dilated while this man, whose gravest mistake was placing his trust in the wrong hands, began convulsing on the floor. You didn’t notice at first when Caesar turned to look at you; he was riddled with pleasure both from the shrieks of pain and the desire clearly bubbling within you.

He loomed over you, the sheer size of him causing your breath to catch in your throat. That look in your eyes… it earned a sly grin because he was sure of the type of woman you were, and he was unwilling to hold back from exploiting that any longer. 

Lips crashing into yours, the motion from his body carried so much force that you were levitated off the ground. Scooping you up in his arms, he held onto you tightly. You wrapped your legs around him, letting the skirt of your dress ride up your bare thighs. His fingers pressed into you while they cupped the delicate curves of your backside. While teasing the lining of your panties, his tongue traced your bottom lip. That little quiver from you made his eyes roll back.

His digits slipped under the cotton fabric and slid between your folds. A shaky moan escaped you when his fingers caressed your swollen clit. Looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, his wicked expression from earlier had shifted to one of arousal. Capturing your lips once more, each whimper and groan from you was devoured. His eagerness demanded entry into your mouth, finally allowing your tongues to tangle. As you panted in ecstasy, he plunged two fingers past your glistening lips. Those long digits curled within you, teasing your g-spot to coax any lewd sound out of you.

Watching you unravel with such ease had him breathing heavily. The look of bliss upon your face was made all the better with the dying man’s pleas in the background. Just as you looked as if you were going to delve into the pits of ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out of you. Your whimpering protest was quickly silenced with another sloppy kiss, this time coupled with his own desperate sounds for more.

When you nipped at his bottom lips, you lit a fire in him. A deep groan rumbled in his chest. The quick flip of your body onto the table caused you to shriek, but that shocked voice only made you that much more alluring to him.

Your voice hitched into choked gasps as he pushed as much of himself into you as he could. The stretching of your walls, the spasming of them, the warmth encasing him: your body was heaven on Earth. Thrusting into you slowly at first, he savored your high pitched moans as the tip of his cock pressed against your sweet spot. The fluttering sensation made him thrust harder and faster. Watching you claw at the surface and listening to your sweet euphoric moans stirred something primal in him.

His hands gripped so tightly on your hips that it was nearly painful. You were nearing that blissful peak once again, he could sense it. Just as you were about to fall off the cliff, he pulled out. Your sobs of frustration were muffled against the desk. Your hips swayed, offering you up as a forbidden fruit which he couldn’t resist sinking his teeth into. 

He hooked his arms under you, lifting your molten core to his parched mouth. He wasted no time in trailing his tongue over your pursed lips. It swirled around your engorged clit, while his hot breath bathed your sensitive skin before devouring every inch of it.

Your cries and shakes fed into his ego. Such a deliciously twisted little thing you were, a woman who could finally get that scratch he couldn’t reach. His long hot tongue coated you, plunged into you, swirled along every inch all in an attempt to strangle each groan out of you. His cock twitched from under you, beading with precum. You began stroking him, adoring the feel of him pulsating under your touch. You were able to fit just a little more than the head into your mouth, but that didn’t stop you from attempting to thrust even more down your throat.

He began moaning for more as he bucked his hips slightly. One of his hands tangled in your hair to hold you in place as he sought out more from your delectable mouth. Your gagging and coughing only made him crazier. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He nipped at your abused nub before throwing you back on his shaft.

He dipped into your core again, groaning as he slid in with more ease. Your body quaked around him, so desperate for release. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, letting your quickened pulse dance under his grasp. His arm snaked around your waist, holding you closely as he thrusted deep inside you.

Your grunts of urgency, the way your nails scraped up his arms, and the tightening of your core: you were right where he needed you. He tilted your lustful expression back towards the test subject—died for the sole purpose of riling both of you up. An image that should have provoked disgust, instead had you singing more loudly for Caesar. He aided his thrusts with rough throws of your body against his hips.

“Tell me how much you love it,” he growled.

“I-I love it. Love it so fucking much.” Your slick arousal was coating him entirely. Wet slapping of your hips colliding was making it more difficult to hold himself together. Your chest heaved and your breaths became shallow. The sensation of your body tensing tore away any shred of control remaining.

In shared cries and groans of blissful sin, your bodies trembled from the lingering shockwaves. Easing you down, your legs buckled under you. Unbothered laughs came from above. He couldn’t help himself; witnessing you in such a state went straight to his pride. Inflating his ego even more was the sight of the trickles of cum pooling beneath your still shaky hips. A hum of satisfaction left him before he scooped you up in his arms. Your body was still flushed, and the heat of it was far more contagious than any disease he could conjure. 

His hands favored resting on certain curves of your figure as he carried you the short journey to the bedroom. Images of those unlucky souls having their lives ripped away were still playing in your mind. When Caesar placed you on the bed, his eyes roamed over you, feeling fairly pleased with himself.

His fingers traced up the softness of your thighs, making you shiver. He grinned down at you, knowing full well the boundless fun that awaited you both.

[mariacallous]

On a dead-end road that climbs out of the tiny city of Jenkins, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in Eastern Kentucky, there stands a large warehouse with a mint green roof. It shares the road with a few other businesses, but is otherwise surrounded by an expanse of open fields and tree-lined slopes. Inside, the warehouse is stacked high with racks on racks of computers—thousands of them. But none have ever been switched on.

The warehouse is owned by Mohawk Energy, a company cofounded by Kentucky state senator Brandon Smith in 2005, originally to resculpt landscapes disfigured by coal mining. After lying dormant for a period, Mohawk was reincarnated in 2022 when Smith struck a deal with HBTPower, a company then owned by Chinese crypto exchange Huobi, which wanted to use the warehouse for a bitcoin mining operation.

Under the deal, Mohawk promised to fit up its warehouse with the necessary power infrastructure, operate the equipment, and funnel any bitcoin produced to HBT. In return, HBT would pay Mohawk a monthly hosting fee, a cut of its mining revenue, and the associated energy bills.

Smith says he hoped the arrangement would generate tax revenue and create jobs for former coal miners, who could be trained as repair technicians. The coal industry departed Jenkins long ago, the reserves depleted, leaving people in search of work. More than a third now live below the poverty line, per the latest census data. “I liked the idea of going from one type of mining to a new type,” says Smith. “I thought, now in Eastern Kentucky we are going to have our time—we’re going to catch up and play a part in the tech future.”

But after a promising start, the relationship between Mohawk and HBT soured and then fell apart. “Nothing has ever been turned on. It’s a fascinating, almost Willy Wonka–type atmosphere when you walk through,” says Smith. “It has turned into a disaster.”

In November 2023, HBT brought a lawsuit in federal court, alleging that Mohawk had breached its contract on several fronts, including by failing to install the appropriate power infrastructure and secure certain power subsidies, and attempting to sell off the mining equipment. “Ultimately, the source of the current dispute is Mohawk’s basic failure to comply with its obligations, not only in a timely way, but at all in many regards,” says Harout Samra, a specialist in international dispute resolution at law firm DLA Piper and representative for HBT.

Mohawk sued HBT in return, contesting the various alleged breaches and claiming that HBT is delinquent on more than $700,000 in rent, labor, and fit-up costs. The company is also seeking damages relating to the loss of income over the term of the contract and the inability to bring a new tenant into the facility while the equipment remains on-site. “Huobi simply made a bargain it believes now is a bad one, and wants to get out of it without paying the funds it owes,” the filing states.

The legal conflict, which remains unresolved, is just one in a series of fights between Chinese companies and the owners of industrial facilities in the rural US over failed bitcoin mining partnerships. What looked to facility owners in Kentucky like an irresistible opportunity to tap into a new line of business in an otherwise fallow period has turned into a nightmare. They claim to have been saddled with unpaid hosting fees and energy bills worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, with few options for recovering the money. The Chinese parties have been left equally displeased. “HBTPower obviously regrets that this opportunity has ultimately played out the way it has,” says Samra.

The bitcoin mining game—a race between computers to win the right to process a bundle of transactions and claim a crypto reward—is dominated by large corporations that own and operate industrial-scale facilities. But in 2021 and 2022, smaller-scale operations began to proliferate in the US countryside wherever there was available power, including in Kentucky. “A lot of mom-and-pop shops opened up,” says Phil Harvey, CEO at Sabre56, a firm that consults on crypto mining projects and operates its own facilities. “Appalachia has always been a good source of power.”

These small facilities were plugging a gap in the market. A ban on crypto mining in China had left businesses casting about for a new home for their many millions of dollars’ worth of mining equipment. “A lot of wealthy Chinese businesses were affected,” says Harvey. “Every minute these machines are down, they are losing revenue.” Meanwhile, as the price of bitcoin ballooned—and the profitability of mining along with it—mining firms and investor groups began to hoard large quantities of bitcoin mining equipment of their own, says Harvey, without considering where they might deploy it.

In an overheated market, holders of mining equipment jumped into hosting arrangements at short notice with owners of small facilities, some of whom had no prior experience and insufficient expertise, who agreed to install the equipment and run the mining operations on their behalf.

But the haste with which these hosting relationships came together, in the name of striking while bitcoin was hot, says Harvey, set many of the partnerships up for failure. There was limited due diligence conducted by parties on both sides, delays in kitting out facilities and deploying equipment, and disputes over payment terms, he says, among other points of friction. “It's a snowball effect where everyone just ends up getting pissed off with each other,” says Harvey.

Though the American market proved more expensive and bureaucratic than some Chinese businesses expected, says Harvey, problems were also caused by the hubris of facility owners, some of whom found themselves in over their heads. “It’s no joke running a [bitcoin mining] operation of any kind of scale,” he says. “Just because the Chinese are tough to do business with, doesn’t mean they are the ones in the wrong. I would say that blame is equally shared.”

The law firm acting for Mohawk in its dispute with HBT, Anna Whites Law Office, has represented multiple owners of small facilities in Kentucky in similar legal conflicts with Chinese partners. The cases differ from the Mohawk situation, says attorney Anna Whites, founder of the firm, but share a common thread: “We saw a pattern that [companies with ties to China] would ship in machines with uncertain provenance, mine very heavily for three months, then run without paying the bill,” she claims.

Some of the cases settled out of court; Whites is unable to supply the details for reasons of client confidentiality. But others continue to drag on.

Biofuel Mining, a company formerly co-owned by Smith, is involved in legal tangles with two companies that Whites believes to be run out of China: Touzi Tech and VCV Power Gamma. Although both are incorporated in Delaware, per SEC filings, they conduct business in Mandarin and cannot be reached at their listed US addresses, Whites claims. “It's pretty standard for the foreign entities from any country to get a short-term office so that they have less scrutiny from US investors and government agencies,” she says.

In both cases, Biofuel claims, the firms shipped equipment from China to its hosting facility in Eastern Kentucky, then walked away with the bitcoin produced, leaving behind hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid energy bills and hosting fees.

Biofuel reached a settlement with Touzi in early 2022 for $60,000, but despite having handed back the mining equipment, it claims not to have received the sum it is owed under the agreement.

In the still-unresolved spat with VCV, Biofuel received permission from the Martin County Circuit Court in Kentucky to sell off the mining equipment, claims Whites, to recoup a portion of the funds it is owed (she has not confirmed the amount), but she alleges that no damages have yet been awarded. VCV has stopped responding to communications, she claims.

Biofuel has since dissolved, put out of business by the failed hosting ventures. “I literally lost my house—I lost everything. It financially ruined me,” says Wes Hamilton, former Biofuel Mining CEO. “I’m just so frustrated about the whole thing.”

WIRED contacted VCV and Touzi for comment, but did not receive any response.

There are few financial recovery options for companies like Mohawk and Biofuel. The situation is made more difficult, as in the Mohawk case, if they are dealing with so-called special purpose entities. Because they are set up by their parent companies for a single specific business venture, these entities need not be concerned about their long-term ability to operate in the US.

“It certainly can be more difficult to recover damages from a non-US counterparty,” says Kim Havlin, a partner in the global commercial litigation practice at law firm White & Case. “There is certainly a risk that an entity that doesn’t need to be in the US may just ignore the case.”

Even if the Kentucky facility owners win out in court, it could be difficult to collect any damages awarded. “A judgment is essentially a piece of paper. Any judgment needs to be turned into assets or cash in order to be valuable,” says Havlin. If the opposing party refuses to pay up and has no US assets to collect against, sometimes that isn’t possible.

Almost a year after the dispute began, the Mohawk case is stuck in legal limbo. In a setback for Mohawk, the presiding judge recently denied its motion to dismiss HBT’s complaint, on the basis that it had failed to sufficiently back up its argument. The judge also pushed Mohawk’s countersuit into arbitration, a forum for resolving disputes privately instead of in open court. Non-US parties tend to prefer arbitration as a way to “remove a home forum from both sides,” explains Havlin. “You can pick an arbitral seat in neither country as a means of creating a neutral playing field.” A parallel federal court hearing is set for December to consider whether an injunction should be imposed on Mohawk, preventing it from selling off the remaining HBT equipment in its possession.

Smith has given up on the idea of recovering the full amount he claims to be owed. “We’re at the point that it’s almost silly to even be arguing about breaking even,” he says.

In an interview with PBS that aired in September 2023, touting the Mohawk Energy facility, Smith said he hoped to prove that not every business that blew into Jenkins would abandon the area. “I’ve stood at their ribbon cuttings, then watched them leave. I’d like to do something to let people know that not everybody is like that,” he said.

After the relationship with HBT collapsed last year, Smith faces the prospect of Mohawk becoming yet another false start. With the facility inactive, the company has been forced to dismiss the former coal miners brought on as technicians. (It is unclear how many people it employed.)

The Mohawk facility was perhaps never set to revitalize Jenkins in the way Smith hoped, anyway. “I would say that a rural community benefits very little from a bitcoin mining facility. In terms of job creation, it’s minimal in a lot of cases,” says Harvey, the consultant. “It's certainly not the savior to a dwindling community.”

Nonetheless, Smith remains hopeful of salvaging the crypto mining project, with a new partner. “I’m hoping that this gets settled in the way that it should and that somebody comes forward and lets us go through with the vision that we wanted for this region,” he says. “I hope every day that maybe some big company will see that there's a place ready to go in this part of the country.”

Otherwise, Mohawk’s dalliance with bitcoin mining will become a cautionary tale. “It was very hurtful to see these families lose their income. We were one of the biggest payrolls in Jenkins,” says Smith. “It adds insult to injury that I’m sitting here arguing in court.”

[satureja13]

The Friendship between: Jack and Jeb (The last episode of our Friendship series!)

Jack and Jeb never had much to do with each other. They kept their awkward distance because when they'd all been out of their minds after Vlad's death, Jeb fell in love with Jack. Which lead to Saiwa and Jeb's first break-up.

Months later they found out that Jeb tried to rescue Jack and Saiwa from the Lab.

Jack had been so thankful that he gifted Jeb an Armadillo ^^' (Ingame description of the Armadillo: 'A Crabby Bottom Armadillo is always there to cheer you up! If you ever need to put a smile on your face, stare into this Armadillo’s confused little eyes. He never disapproves of you, and is always there to make you laugh! Everyone loves the Crabby Bottom Armadillo!')

Jeb had been broken that he failed and Jack started to cheer him up with his puppy energy :3

A few months later they'd been put in Team Home Improvement at the Farm.

And they also restored Guidry's Office in San Myshuno which got destroyed when Morgan tried to steal Vlad's body.

Jeb and Jack lost their way in San Myshuno.

Jeb and Jack share an umbrella and an awkward conversation ^^' Romance Factor: 2/5

Sometimes Jack joins Jeb and Ji Ho on stage.

And they found out that they have a lot more in common: Their mutual love for cars!

And gardening. Jack built a green house for Jeb at their new home in Tomarang to grow their produce for Jack's nectar and Jeb's potions and they own the Garage there too.

Lunatic and Valerian, Jack and Jeb's horses, are deeply in love with each other.

In chronological order: 🫛 Saiwa and Jack 🫛 Vlad and Jack 🫛 Saiwa and Vlad 🫛 Kiyoshi and Jeb 🫛 Saiwa and Ji Ho 🫛 Ji Ho and Jack 🫛 Ji Ho and Jeb 🫛 Ji Ho and Kiyoshi 🫛 Vlad and Kiyoshi 🫛 Vlad and Jeb 🫛 Saiwa and Kiyoshi 🫛 Jack and Jeb

❤️‍🔥 Ji Ho and Vlad (and Luci) ❤️‍🔥 Saiwa and Jeb ❤️‍🔥 Jack and Kiyoshi ❤️‍🔥 Noxee and Greg ❤️‍🔥 Leander and Wesley (and Vlad) ❤️‍🔥 Francine Spencer (Jeb's Grandmother) and Jules Rico

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 📜 7-12 📜 13-16 📜 17-22 📜 23-28

[cyberbirb-arts]

I've been wanting to do something special for these two. I fell in love with the colors and of course, it's 80s inspired.

Accompanying ficlet under the cut!

Tracer is often bubbly, containing an infectious laughter that can lift just about anyone's spirits. But she cannot run on that energy 24/7 like her good friend Lúcio chants, "Can't stop, won't stop!". Now really isn't the time.

At least, well, just not for today.

Perhaps the universe could allow her this moment of sadness in a beautiful world inevitably gone mad. Mindlessly surfing the TV channels, she's convinced that she'll feel like herself again tomorrow after a good night's rest.

Oh, but Tracer is that blink-and-you'll-miss-her woman with a smile and a thousand reasons to keep fighting. The beloved agent's unwavering cape of confidence has frayed – down to the last thread.

But y'know it's just another day, Lena tells herself in a sigh watching the latest news broadcast through wet eyelashes. It's not pretty. The world suffers on a daily basis.

Emily hums softly, quietly placing random jewelry onto her. She also decides to shut the TV off, and Lena pouts at this, allowing her emotions to sink further into their couch. Lena is intrigued only as Emily winks and slips into a retro seafoam green dress. She decorates herself with clip-on earrings and plastic flowers, some blush and a pretty pink lipstick.

A hot cup of earl gray is made just how Lena likes it, with some lemon. The scent of bergamot is welcoming. Chocolate wafers, cookies, and biscuits are laid out orderly on a platter. A giant pachimari plush is stolen from their bed.

Emily returns again with a new outfit for Lena, her favorite synthwave pants and a cropped purple sweatshirt. She helps her dress and applies the same pink and peach makeup. She knows Lena doesn't like wearing a whole lot, so Emily is light with her touch. Freckles are just too cute to be covered up (like her own).

"I hope you know just how special you are. My brave and beautiful Lena. My hero."

Her painted lips leave an imprint on Lena's cheek. For the first time that day, she smiles.

"And you're mine."

She has her share of the treats and the hot tea somehow soothes the part of herself she cannot heal. Meanwhile, Emily puts on some music and the first song stirs Lena's soul, the familiar drumbeat and trombone.

When life is too much

Roll with it, baby

Don't stop and lose your touch

Oh no, baby

Emily offers her hand with a smile, "I know you're tired, but…dance with me for a while, love?"

Lena holds her tight, she could trust Emily for all eternity.

She wants to buy a ring someday.

"Okay."

Roll with it, baby!

Tracer's sadness is transformed through the dance, twirling around and laughing; nearly forgetting how much she hurt. Their hips sway to the beat and Lena catches Emily's thigh, teasing. A small wafer is offered from Emily's lips and they both giggle the second it splits between their teeth.

The chocolate melts in a passionate kiss. Lena reaches for Emily's hands, giddy.

"This is just what I needed, Em. I love you so much."

"Anytime. Love you more!"

Another song begins, and it's much slower, sensual and perfect. They're singing along in the dim light of the living room, and Lena finds her old self once again in the ebb and flow of their embrace.

[solarpunkani]

All that NOT TO EVEN MENTION that idk what THEY saw but when I go look in the Solarpunk tag the first thing I see is a post going ‘uguuuu the solarpunk tag isnt solarpunk enough for meeeeeee’ and then immediately afterwards the next few posts are

- people talking about community building

- people talking about how to make patches

- people talking about actions they’re taking, like making their own clothes or planning a garden

- people talking about actions other people are doing, like reusing items to make new functional items, and more

- people talking about actions that we all should be doing more often, like growing and sharing food, or advocating for things like image IDs on posts (which like for real we should all start adding image IDs on our posts)

- maybe a handful of aesthetic posts

- people making posts talking about how the movement started off as an aesthetic in response to all the people who keep going into the tag and deriding it for not being ‘punk enough’

This goes for both ‘top posts’ view AND ‘latest’ view btw, different ones, some with fewer notes than others, and different posts in different views obviously but like.

Even the aesthetic posts that DO show up are for the most part either A: art that visualizes a green future for us to strive towards B: ‘here’s my garden! How can you do something similar? Lets talk about it!’ C: literally stuff people are already doing to strive for a better future but with really good image quality so it looks pretty or D: concept art for like. Clean energy solutions or community centers or other solutions that would help build a better future. Maybe thats just A rephrased but screw it.

IDK. Maybe our punk looks different than what people are expecting???? A lot greener and more environmental than what my parents sure think of when they hear ‘punk’ thats for sure. But I don’t think that should make it less-than.

Either that or I simply follow so many solarpunk people who are talking about action and politics and resistance and such that I don’t see as many aesthetic posts as someone new to The Club may see. Cause I genuinely usually have to search for the aesthetic stuff. But even if that is the case, all that means is that you can’t give something a cursory 2.7 second glance and then go ‘why am I not seeing the punk stuff!!!’

[eleonore-songeve]

Fleeting Embraces ( Part 1 )

Summary : In medieval London, Aveline regularly encounters Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, in her dreams. Despite her initial skepticism, she is intrigued by Morpheus' revelations about the power of dreams. Their relationship develops, combining fascination and mutual respect, as Aveline begins to view dreams as having an influence on her waking reality.

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In 1287, London was a thriving medieval city, but it was still far from becoming the global metropolis we know today. The city was centered around the Tower of London, which was both a fortress and a royal residence. The streets were narrow and winding, with half-timbered wooden houses and thatched roofs.

Daily life in London centered around trade and crafts. Merchants sold their wares in bustling markets, and artisan guilds regulated the production of goods such as textiles, metals, and foodstuffs. The Thames played a central role in the transport of goods and people.

England was ruled by King Edward I at this time. He was known for his expansion of royal power and for his rigorous management of finances. Tensions with Wales and Scotland were also present at this time, and Edward I was involved in conflicts to extend his authority over these areas.

However, Aveline was not at all concerned about the political, social and economic upheavals of her country, living in a small village, far from the capital.

Each dawn saw Aveline emerge from her small home in the village, ready to embrace the challenges and simple moments that dotted her day. His days were punctuated by the tasks of daily life, but also by warm exchanges with the villagers who formed a close-knit community, where everyone knew each other.

The morning often began with a visit to the local market, where she exchanged a few words with the merchants who greeted her with a knowing smile. The stalls were full of local produce, and she lingered to discuss the latest news while shopping. Once her basket was full, she left, happy.

The rest of the morning was spent doing the agricultural tasks that defined his life. Aveline, having always been an orphan, having been educated by the elderly residents, actively participated in the planting and maintenance of crops, working alongside the other villagers. It was a moment when the solidarity of the community was manifested, everyone making their contribution to ensure the success of the harvests.

At lunchtime, she met with the grandmothers to share a simple but nourishing meal. Lively discussions echoed, evoking joys and gossip.

In the afternoon, she devoted time to more personal activities. She indulged in contemplation from the nearby hill, letting her gaze wander over the green fields. Or she made crafts, sharing her skills with those who wanted to learn in the rainy weather.

The evenings were punctuated by gatherings at the community home, where stories, songs and sometimes even a few dances were shared. Aveline, with her mischievous liveliness, brought a refreshing energy to these moments of conviviality.

Then, she returned to her modest home, with a light heart and a spirit nourished by the day's interactions.

Each day was woven with work, human connections and moments that recalled the simple beauty of existence, appreciating it greatly, not wishing to change its place for anything in the world.

As Aveline reached the age of twenty, the caring seniors of the village, guardians of centuries-old traditions, began to weave threads of anticipation around the young woman. A subtle murmur spread, carried by the wind of gossip, announcing that the time had come for Aveline to dive into the mysterious waters of love.

It was during the meal, during a lively conversation, that they spoke of the undeniable charm of Hugo, the village cutie. They tried, with a very maternal delicacy, to suggest that perhaps, between the furrows of the fields and the bursts of shared laughter, a romantic awakening could see the light of day.

But Aveline, a young woman with a mischievous look and a carefree soul, had taken this advice lightly. She responded with bursts of joyful laughter : “Maybe, maybe.”

The grandmothers persisted, persevering in their quest for love for she. They weaved romantic stories, insinuating chance meetings between her and Hugo during village gatherings. They already imagined the soft murmur of conversations shared by candlelight, walks hand in hand through the green hills.

However, Aveline, with her sparkling gaze, continued to joke and push back these romantic aspirations.

“Oh, you are so hasty ! So let the roses bloom at their own pace.”, she exclaimed, laughing.

Aveline, determined to live at her own pace, continued to cultivate the simplicity of her daily life. The elders, although persistent, learned to accept resilience in the face of the fact that she wanted to chart her own path, brushing aside pressures with a mischievous gesture.

Nevertheless, one night, destiny got in her way, putting her on the path to love, with an individual she would never have thought of, or even imagined, not knowing at that moment, his existence and all that would bring.

Morpheus, the ruler of the Dream Domain, moved through the dreamscapes, observing the dreams of mortals, to keep busy and check that everything was going smoothly. It was during one of these nocturnal wanderings that he crossed paths with the young woman.

She stood in the middle of an incredibly realistic dream, on top of a hill, looking up at the moon high in the sky, larger than in reality, surrounded by a singular aura that caught Morpheus' attention.

Her jet black hair delicately framed her oval face, like an ebony waterfall. His eyes, lit by a mischievous glow, reflected curiosity. They were the windows of his soul, wells of wonder, looking at his surroundings, with an intensity like he had never seen, interested in everything that constituted his dream which reflected a part of his sweet life.

Her skin, soft and pale, bore the subtle marks of the simple treatments of the time. It was a blank canvas, a testimony to the simplicity of medieval beauty rituals, where nature and gentleness were the allies of grace.

Dressed in a modest dress of earthy hues, she exuded a natural elegance that contrasted with the fantastical glow of her surroundings.

The content of the dream was imbued with a captivating novelty, distinguishing itself from the usual dreams of sleepers. He perceived in the imagination of this young woman an apparent simplicity which in reality revealed grandeur, each detail displaying exquisite beauty and depth of spirit.

Immaterial, he observed the scene with unusual fascination. The singular soul of this young woman captivated his attention. Gliding silently through the twists and turns of the dream like a night breeze, the Lord of Dreams approached.

He stopped beside her, remaining standing with indefinable subtlety and elegance. Their eyes met, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still.

- By my faith, who are you, good lord ? She asked, her eyes expressing a combination of surprise and intrigue.

He hesitated, then announced in a captivating voice, without even being aware of it :

- I am Dream, the Ruler of Dreams and the Guardian of Endless Nights.

With a smile, she put her hands behind her, looking at him with a slight tilt, as if she thought it was all just a figment of her imagination, aware that she was dreaming.

- Dream ? Really, is that your name, sweet lord ?

- I am known by many names.

- What are you talking about, please ?

- Names woven into the fabric of times. They call me Morpheus, the Weaver of Dreams, or the Guardian of the Gates of Night.

- Understood... She said skeptically, before saying in her soft voice, deciding to play along. Morpheus ? I take a lot ! And what does the honor of your coming bring me, Lord Morpheus ?

He remained silent, thinking about his own motivations and why he was engaging in conversation with a simple human, a race he had hardly liked since Nada's affair. Understanding his silence, Aveline, innocently, patted him lightly on the ground and said to him in her soft and cheerful voice :

- Don't stand, take a seat and come and contemplate the moon at my side. It is so vast that it would be a shame to miss this spectacle, wouldn't it ?

Intrigued by Aveline's invitation, Morpheus silently consented. He sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the moon which bathed the dreamscape in a silvery glow.

After a moment, he broke the silence :

-Your world is enchanting, dear mortal. Your dreams are woven from the unique web of your creativity, a beauty that is often hidden from the other dreams I experience. Every night in your dream kingdom offers a splendid picture, a living painting that stands out among the countless visions of the ephemeral.

- It's nice to think that the Master of Dreams would deign to linger in this simple reverie, and what's more, who would tell me who appreciates it, right ?

- Simplicity sometimes conceals an unsuspected depth. I am intrigued by the soul that shapes these night visions, by this ability to discover greatness in modest details.

Aveline stared at the moon, letting her thoughts sink into the soft clarity.

- Lord of Dreams, can you explain to me what dreams really are ? Why do we have them ? Why are they sometimes beautiful and sometimes scary ?

Morpheus nodded, saying :

- Dear mortal, he began in a voice full of wisdom, dreams are the invisible threads that weave the fabric of your lives. In the soft glow of the lunar glow, you discover worlds that go beyond the limits of your daily reality. These night visions are the keys to your imagination, the back doors to realms where the rules of the material world fade away.

He paused, watching the reflection of the moon's glow in the villager's astonished eyes.

-And nightmares, he continued, are the shadows that dance in the darkest corners of your mind. They are the mirrors of your fears, the echoes of the torments that you carry in silence. But remember, even in the darkness, there are lessons to learn, challenges to overcome. Nightmares, although feared, are the forgers of your resilience, the craftsmen who sculpt the strength that lies dormant within you.

Aveline listened to Morpheus' words with a gentle smile, as if she were hearing a fantastic story. His voice, warm and full of candor, broke the silence of the night.

- Oh, kind stranger, your words are woven with the magic of fairy tales. Dreams and nightmares, threads that dance in the mist of the invisible, is this not the work of our fertile imagination, a theater where our minds play out their hidden plays ?

Aveline looked down at the ground and picked up a handful of flower petals, letting them flow through her fingers.

- Maybe we are all like actors in a mysterious show written by the subtle spirit of the night. And you, dear dreamer, would be one of his fleeting creations. The stories you tell me are perhaps the fantasies of my own mind, echoes of my inner world that come to life in this starry night.

She looked up at Morpheus with a spark of curiosity.

- Yet, what would life be without a hint of mystery ? So, so be it, I'll take part in this enchanted game. Tell me more about these dreams woven by the threads of a reality that could only be an ephemeral dream.

A gentle smile floated on Aveline's lips, an invitation to share the wonders of her own world.

- But first, Monsignor, please stop labeling me “mortal”.

Morpheus, perplexed, tilted his head slightly.

- But you are mortal, like all beings who come to my kingdom. Why does this bother you ?

She smiled, expressing gentle patience.

- My lord, the term "mortal" seems to evoke a fragility, an impermanence which, although true, carries with it a connotation of degradation. Each of us is ephemeral, but we preferred to be defined by our essence, our dreams and our actions rather than by our finitude

She paused, letting her words float in the soft night air.

- I am Aveline, a soul who dances in the glow of existence, and although my life is a flame that burns one day, I prefer to be defined by the glow of my dreams rather than by the duration of 'my breath.

She added, with quiet conviction :

- So, if you wish, just name me Aveline.

Seeing Morpheus' eyebrows furrow slightly, she continued :

- My lord, imagine if I named you "Ephemeral of the Dream Kingdom". Although this is technically accurate, wouldn't you think it does justice to the grandeur of your existence ?

She continued with a kind smile.

- When you said your name, Morpheus, you made a fair exchange. So, I simply ask you to call me by my name, a name that, although doomed to fleetingness, aspires to be more than that in the dreams I weave.

Aveline expressed these thoughts with a delicacy that she hoped would allow Morpheus to see the mutual respect behind her request.

Morpheus, still imbued with his ethereal and reserved character, absorbed Aveline's words with an inscrutable expression.

He didn't like the fact that she was asking for fairness between them. However, seeing the glimmer of hope in the young woman's green eyes, he didn't know why, but it calmed his feeling of offense.

After a moment of silence, he responded in a calm and measured voice.

- Well, if the name 'mortelle' displeases you, I will respect your preference, Aveline.

- I thank you from the bottom of my heart, my lord.

A slight smile appeared on Morpheus' immortal lips, showing a subtle recognition of the dialogue that had just taken place between them.

Then, she suddenly left him, waking up in his world.

The following evening, Aveline fell back into sweet sleep, finding herself once again on the ethereal hill. The stars sparkled above her, and the silver light of the moon created a magical atmosphere.

In the dreamscape, she made out a familiar silhouette emerging from the mists of the dream. Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, reappeared, as enigmatic as the first time. His eyes reflected the silver glow of the moon, and he approached Aveline with unparalleled grace.

- Good evening, Aveline. He whispered in a haunting voice.

She greeted him with a smile.

- I didn't expect to see you again anytime soon. What brings you here, Lord Morpheus, on this occasion ?

The Lord of Dreams, his gaze lost in the stars, confessed :

- I have returned to explore more of this world that your mind created.

Aveline nodded, letting herself be carried away by what she believed to be her imagination, a complicity that she cherished.

- In that case, let's explore it together. She offered, holding out her hand, a warm glow emanating from her.

Morpheus, after silent deliberation, finally accepted, arousing the obvious joy of the young woman. Thus, through fantastic lands, they shared moments of contemplation and discovery. Morpheus revealed new aspects of his kingdom, to the limits of what a human mind could conceive.

During this new adventure, they exchanged words, he confiding fragments of stories about dreamers of the past, souls whose dreams had left an imprint on the very fabric of the dream universe. Aveline, although admiring, could not help thinking that all this could only be the fruit of her imagination.

Finally, as the moon's glow reached its peak, Morpheus announced :

- The time has come for me to take my leave. Aveline, until our next meeting.

Aveline smiles, grateful for these unique moments.

- If it's as you say. In any case, I will await our next meeting with great fervor, Lord Morpheus.

And like the first time, the Lord of Dreams vanishes into the darkness of the dream, leaving Aveline to wake up in her bed.

The nights followed one another, and each evening, Aveline found Morpheus in the kingdom of his dreams. The landscapes changed, the adventures were renewed, but the presence of the Lord of Dreams remained constant.

Aveline, although captivated by these nocturnal encounters, persisted in believing that Morpheus was only a creation of her mind. Morpheus, for his part, continued to reveal fragments of wisdom and enigmas that intrigued Aveline. He spoke of the power of dreams, how they could influence reality, and how each dream contributed to the fabric of the universe.

One evening, as they stood on the shore of a sparkling ocean, Aveline questioned him curiously.

- Lord Morpheus, why do you take your place in my dreams every night ? What force brings you to be present in these places ?

- As I told you before, dreams are portals to the soul, Aveline. Your mind creates worlds of unique beauty that I appreciate, just as I have come to appreciate your presence.

Aveline shook her head with a gentle smile.

- It's fascinating and pleasant to share these moments with you. However, I can't help but believe that this is all just a figment of my imagination.

He approached her, at a distance where she could have felt his breath if he had any, causing the young woman to blush due to the sudden proximity to a man.

- Mortals, in their misunderstanding, think that dreams are only illusions, without influence on the waking world. But that is their mistake. Dreams are fragments of reality woven into the fabric of night, and their power extends far beyond the realm of sleep.

Aveline stared at Morpheus, absorbing his words with some thought. The waves murmured softly around them as they stood on the ethereal shore.

- Do you really believe that our dreams can have any influence on the world with our eyes open, noble lord ? She asked, her eyes showing a mixture of fascination and doubt.

Morpheus inclined his head gravely.

- Each dream is an echo, a subtle melody that resonates in the waking hours, influencing the course of your lives.

Aveline, stepping back, lost herself in the contemplation of the dreamlike stars.

- It is a very strange thought, Sir Morpheus, I say. She said, before she felt herself leaving, a sign that she was waking up.

Two months had passed since the first meeting between the woman and Morpheus. Dreams had become a sanctuary where their connection had deepened night after night.

At that dusk, as Aveline strolled through the cobbled streets of her village on her way home, with a full stomach, she could hear the bursts of laughter from the children in the houses lit by candlelight, making her smile. Sometimes, Aveline wondered what her life could have been like if her parents had not died, but the memories of her childhood would arise and these questions would just as quickly disappear, driven from her head. She did not consider herself unlucky or to be pitied.

Her heart was imbued with a special serenity when she reached the threshold of her little house. However, when she arrived at the door, she jumped, surprised to see a man she did not recognize from the village.

The man's silhouette stood out in the darkness. The pale light of the moon cast dancing shadows across his features, masking his face in an aura of mystery.

-Who are you, noble lord ? She asked, her voice trembling, as she searched the darkness for clues.

The man remained silent, taking a few steps forward, slowly emerging from the shadows. The glow of the moon revealed her features, and Aveline shivered, recognizing the blue eyes that had become so familiar to her in her dreams.

- Please excuse me, but I'm afraid you misunderstand who I am, you know. She stated, trying to appear comfortable and hide her anxiety, knowing she was helpless.

After a moment, the silence becoming heavy, Aveline narrowed her eyes, trying to pierce the veil of the unknown.

- Why are you here ? What is your intention towards me ?

The individual moved a little closer, now visible in his full appearance, and smiled.

- I came to visit you in your world.

Stepping back a little, she looked him up and down, observing his clothes waving silently in the light wind. A long, deep black coat fell gracefully to her feet, creating a stark contrast to the earthy palette of the surrounding landscape. Her dress, a dark yet richly textured hue, revealed a timeless elegance, evoking a mystical aura.

A finely crafted belt adorned her waist, accentuating her slender figure. High boots, made of polished leather, framed his feet. A necklace with a red ruby as a pendant adorned her neck.

Ebony locks spread in a flowing, rippling cascade around her pale face. Deeply black, they seemed to catch the ambient light and reflect a subtle glow, creating a striking contrast with the paleness of his skin. The hair, neither too short nor too long, accentuated her delicate features and piercing eyes.

Although the hair was of equal length, it appeared untouched by the wind, maintaining a carefully maintained appearance.

Aveline felt a shiver run down her spine.

- You... You look like someone I know... But... But that can't be, it can't be.

- It is, Aveline.

The man stepped forward slowly, each step marked with confidence. The proximity became tangible, to the point that Aveline's breath almost caressed the face of the one who didn't have one. She could have felt the quickening rhythm of her own heart, an irregular beat that echoed in the silence of the moment.

Aveline, in a state of fascination and confusion, could not look away from this being who seemed to possess a deep and intimate understanding. Anxiety should have overwhelmed her, pushing her to flee or call for help, but strangely, she remained motionless, captivated.

As the space between them shrank to nothing, Aveline almost whispered to herself :

- Lord Morpheus...?

A glimmer of recognition lit his eyes. The name echoed in his consciousness, conjuring up images of dreams and deep thoughts. Morpheus gave a slight smile.

- Yes, Aveline. Our paths have crossed many times during your dreams.

She felt overwhelmed by a strange warmth, a connection that transcended the rational. His mind, enveloped in this enigmatic presence, tried to untangle the intertwined threads of reality and dreams.

- I... I'm not daydreaming, am I...? She stammered, her eyes searching for answers in the deep gaze of the man before her.

- No, we are not in my kingdom. We are in your world. He replied, an assured calm in his voice.

The words struck Aveline's mind like shards of truth, provoking a confused reflection on the blurred boundary between tangible reality and intangible dreams.

However, before she could unravel this mystery further, the cheerful voices of villagers approaching their position pulled her from her thoughts. Panic gripped her at the idea of being caught alone in the middle of the night with a stranger. Her eyes widened, and she hurriedly opened the wooden door, inviting the man inside.

The Lord of Dreams crosses the threshold with infinite grace. Aveline, still in shock from the situation, closed the door behind them, trying to hide this unusual encounter from the curious eyes of the outside world.

As the voices of the villagers faded away completely, Aveline breathed a sigh of relief. She turned, feeling a wave of calm after the storm of her own dismay. However, the darkness of the room, plunged into the silence of the night, made her realize that she had just brought a man into her home.

The room, devoid of light, because Aveline had not yet lit the candles, accentuated the enigmatic nature of the situation. Despite the darkness, Aveline could feel Morpheus' penetrating gaze on her.

She blushed, embarrassed, already imagining the village grandmothers' gossip about this nocturnal encounter if they knew it.

- I... I apologize, very humbly. She stammered, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a shy smile. It's just... I wasn't expecting a visit, especially at this time.

Morpheus, always calm and reserved, inclined his head slightly in assurance. He seemed to understand the complexity of the situation and the unexpected nature of their meeting in the waking world, nevertheless thinking that she would be happier to see him under these conditions.

Aveline, looking for a pretext to hide the uneasiness in the air, decided to light candles.

- I'm going to light some candles to light up the room a little. It will help us see things more clearly, I think. She announced, trying to maintain some normalcy in what had become a picture of the strange.

Under Morpheus's scrutinizing gaze, she looked around the room looking for candles. His gestures, although deliberate, revealed a certain excitement. She still didn't fully understand what was happening, but she wanted to hide her own insecurities behind a facade of activity.

One by one, the flames danced with the matches, illuminating the room with a flickering glow. Morpheus, once the room was bathed in this warm and soft light, observed the nooks and crannies with particular attention.

Aveline, a little more reassured by the light of the candles, looked away from Morpheus' shadow which seemed to blend into the darkness. She hoped that this subdued atmosphere would help ease the tense atmosphere.

Morpheus' gaze rested on the shelves, decorated with pottery with simple and authentic shapes. The fumes of the dried herbs, carefully arranged in a basket, floated in the air, creating a subtle ambiance that tickled Morpheus's senses. The atmosphere of the room revealed a humble life, but full of nuances, like a living painting that Morpheus was invited to contemplate.

Aveline, watching him do this, felt her head turn, and declared in a calm but perplexing voice :

- I feel the need to take a seat.

She sat, her eyes fixed on Morpheus, waiting for explanations.

Morpheus, while maintaining his aura of mystery, took a seat in the chair that she offered him with almost supernatural grace. His eyes, of infinite depth, met those of the woman. A breath of silence hung over the room before he began to speak, choosing each word carefully.

- I introduce myself again. I am Morpheus, Dream of the Infinites, Lord of Dreams and King of Nightmares, watching over the dreams that populate the night of humanity.

Morpheus' words echoed through the room, tinged with a revelation that transcended human understanding. The woman, although surprised, received these explanations with an astonishing openness of mind. Her eyes held a mixture of fascination and acceptance, as if a part of her had always known that their connection went beyond the limits of her consciousness.

- Morpheus... You are Morpheus, Dream of the Endless... She repeated slowly, letting the weight of this revelation settle. The dreams... Was all this really real ?

- Dreams are as real as life itself, sometimes even deeper in their meanings and truths. He explained, his voice carrying ancient wisdom.

The woman, trying to assimilate this extraordinary revelation, confided to him that she needed time to understand. She held her head in her fingers, closing her eyes, thinking about everything that was happening right now. If she wasn't dreaming or if it was reality. However, when she looked at him, she felt deep inside that she was not sleeping, but that it was indeed happening.

- Why did you come here ? She asked with perceptible excitement, her eyes searching for answers in the enigmatic ocean of Morpheus's pupils.

He responded with a simplicity that contrasted with the complexity of their connection.

- I just wanted to see you, in this waking world.

- Understood... She said, her face betraying her nervousness. Noble lord... Uh... How should I act ? Should I get you something ? A humble offering perhaps ? Or would it be rude of me to let you sit in such a modest chair ? I... I apologize, I...

She stood up, panicking. Morpheus, with the wisdom characteristic of his timeless being, reassured her in a softer voice than usual :

- No need for change or offerings. You can act as you normally would in my presence.

The woman, seeking to follow this advice, replied in a slightly trembling voice, sitting down again and tightening the fabric of her dress around her legs :

- Understood... As usual... Hm...

Her look betrays a mixture of astonishment and respect towards this being who, despite his grandeur, treats her with disconcerting simplicity. However, still in shock from this extraordinary encounter with Morpheus, she took a deep breath and gathered the courage to ask a question that weighed on her tormented mind :

- That would mean that all deities exist ?

Morpheus, with infinite tranquility, replied in the affirmative :

- Yes indeed. Each pantheon, each belief, finds its reality somewhere in the cosmic fabric of the worlds. Gods and goddesses, myths and legends, are all facets of the human imagination made reality.

This response shocked the woman in a way she had never anticipated. Having never been a fervent believer, she found herself confronted with the idea that the deities, which she had always perceived as tales, were in reality existing entities. The tangible presence of Morpheus in front of her forced her into an acceptance that she struggled to integrate.

His gaze betrays deep confusion, a tumult of emotions mingling in the crucible of his consciousness. She could not deny the evidence before her, the existence of gods and goddesses, embodied in the person of Morpheus. It was a revelation that shook the very foundations of his understanding of the world.

Morpheus, sensing his confusion, chose not to add pressure to this already trying revelation by revealing to him that as far as he was concerned, he was above the gods, he was more. He let the woman take time to digest.

Aveline, looking for answers in Morpheus' deep gaze, persisted in her questions.

- So what do you want from me ? Why did you show up at me, who's nothing special, just a humble village girl with no big story ?

Morpheus, inclined to his imperturbable calm, let a hint of a smile appear delicately on his lips.

- Earthly merits cannot have any value in my eyes. He replied softly. What you are, Aveline, transcends simple appearances. I did not come with pre-established expectations. Your essence intrigues me, and the simplicity of your daily life represents a unique reflection in the kaleidoscope of human existence. You are much more than you imagine yourself to be, and it is this essence that guided me to you.

Morpheus' response brought a shy blush to Aveline's cheeks, a complex mosaic of embarrassment and surprise. The idea of being perceived as "interesting" by the Dream Lord aroused conflicting emotions in her. She had never imagined that her simple and unpretentious life could captivate the attention of a being such as him.

A silence fills the room, broken only by the muffled crackling of the candle and the frantic pulsations of Aveline's heart. He observed the young woman with calm intensity, capturing every nuance of her emotion.

After a moment of embarrassment, she timidly raised her eyes to meet those of Morpheus.

- I'm nothing other than... Me... She whispered, uncertain about the interpretation of this new perspective on her existence.

Morpheus, with a deep look in his eyes, replied :

- This is precisely what charms me, Aveline. The purity of the soul, the sincerity of an existence without artifice. Everyone carries a unique story, and yours, although seemingly simple, resonates with a beauty that transcends the limits of the trivial.

Aveline, still blushing but also touched by Morpheus' words, discovered a certain warmth in this unexpected recognition. Concerns about his own importance faded slightly, giving way to a burgeoning curiosity about the deeper significance of this encounter.

The seconds dragged on, and Morpheus, although resolute in his unchanging nature, could not ignore the emotional transformation he had caused in Aveline. As he watched the embarrassment and confusion flash across the young woman's face, a fleeting emotion flashed through her infinite eyes, a wound in her eternal ego, a crack in her imperturbability.

Morpheus, sitting in the tranquility of the dim light, reflects on the nature of this encounter. An unexpected sadness, an echo of regret, manifests in his being. The question lingers in her mind : "Was it a good idea to venture into the life of a simple human like this ?"

A glimmer of hesitation crossed Morpheus's eyes, a rare flash of vulnerability. Despite his infinite wisdom, he also found himself subject to the torments of human emotions, which he explored in a unique way through the twists and turns of dreams.

Rising with thoughtful grace, he advanced towards the door, ready to slip away.

Aveline, coming out of her trance, noticed his intention to leave and stood up with new determination.

- Wait a minute.

The Dream Lord stopped, turning back to her.

Aveline's gaze, tinged with shyness, but carrying a glimmer of audacity, met that of Morpheus.

- Can I... Can I find you in my dreams ? And... Even here, in... In the Waking World ? That's how we say it, right ? She asked, her voice barely audible, mixing embarrassment with vibrant curiosity.

Morpheus, impassive as usual, nodded slightly.

- If this is your wish, Aveline, our paths will cross again in the kingdom of dreams and in the waking world.

The door closed softly behind Morpheus, leaving Aveline alone with her thoughts and the anticipation of the nights to come. The idea of finding the Lord of Dreams in the dream world awakened in her a new emotion, a bridge between reality and imagination that took shape with each beat of her eyelashes.

When she went to bed, Aveline surrendered to the palpable expectation that filled her. In sleep, she delved into the realm of dreams, searching for the familiar figure, which she quickly found, creating an eternal bond between Aveline, the simple villager, and Morpheus, the Dream Lord and the King of Nightmares.

For better and for worse.

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

Author's word : 

I hope you enjoyed this first part of the story as much as I enjoyed creating it.

In any case, I'll see you soon for the rest of the events !

[beckettj]

1 Year Repost: In the Blood (CS oneshot)

It's been a whole year since I first published this fic so I'm sharing it again now!

Summary: Emma breaks the news to Killian that she’s pregnant.. She’s excited and it can only be a good thing… right? Then why the bloody hell does he feel so damn terrified?

Words: 3,279

Read on AO3

'How much of my father am I destined to become?' 'Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?'

--

“Killian!”

The unexpected shout, originating from upstairs, was enough to make his head shoot out of the book in his hand, a small frown crossing his brow. It was an excited yell, almost a squeal – a noise he had never heard from Emma before – but one most certainly filled with joy, so he inferred there was no reason to panic; something of a miracle given all they had been through. Even still, the noise, the shout; it confused him.

Emma bounding down the stairs, with all the enthusiasm of her overexcited little brother on Christmas Day, only added to his befuddlement. The Emma who all-but hopped, skipped, and jumped into the front room scarcely resembled the dead-on-her-feet Emma that he had seen only an hour ago. The transformation was as impressive as it was remarkable. She had been exhausted, complaining that she felt totally drained, to the point where he had ended up carrying her up the stairs and into their bedroom, as she could barely face moving. When he had expressed his worries that her tiredness was becoming a frequent occurrence, she had shooed him out, insisting that she would be perfectly fine once she caught up on rest.

An hour had passed, and it appeared she had been correct. The short nap seemed to have rejuvenated her, turning her into a bundle of energy which was only unnerving him in that he wasn’t used to seeing her quite so animated. Emma stopped right in front of him, a huge grin on her face which met her green eyes and made them sparkle.

“Feeling better, love?” Killian remarked, raising an eyebrow at the vast improvement he saw before him.

She didn’t answer his question directly.

Instead, she drew his attention to an item she held in her hand, by holding it out towards him, and exclaimed, “Look!”

Killian did look, but he had no bloody clue what he was looking at. Every time he thought he was completely up to date with the technology and other advancements of the Land Without Magic, a new one would crop up for him to marvel at. The latest one didn’t look at all impressive, merely resembling a stick, only instead of wood it was, of course, made of plastic. It was mostly white, with a pink end to it, and an indent in the centre within which were two thin lines.

He failed to understand Emma’s excitement at such a device, it’s function most definitely lost on him. He flicked his eyes from the object back up onto Emma, finding her staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to share her excitement. The only thing he felt was lost.

“It’s…” he drew out, hoping for a hint or, even better, a sudden realization.

Neither came. Emma just nodded at him enthusiastically, her head seeming to bounce like one of those ridiculous bobble head dogs that people in this land liked to put in their cars.

“…a stick?” Killian finished hesitantly, aware that Emma had been hoping for a different reaction from him to what, seemingly, was nothing more than a piece of plastic.

“Well, that was anti-climatic,” Emma huffed, dropping her hand back to her side, the unidentified object along with it. “You really don’t know what it is?”

“Am I supposed to?” Killian responded.

“It’s a pregnancy test,” Emma filled him in.

They had tests for that? The scientific advancements of the Land Without Magic never failed to surprise him. He glanced at the shape of the item – the long, narrow stick – and promptly decided that he did not need to know the exact details as to how the tests were carried out.

Not immediately, at least. Clarification was more pressing.

“You took… a pregnancy test?” he checked slowly.

“Yes!” Emma nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm and smile returning. “And look! There’s two lines!”

“I have no bloody clue what that means, love,” Killian told her.

Even though he wasn’t following her at all, and still felt rather lost, there was a bemused smile on his face, simply from watching her own expressions of glee. They had fought hard, against curses, magic and various enemies, for these moments of happiness.

“It means I’m pregnant,” Emma resorted to spelling it out for him. “Killian, you’re going to be a father.”

The grin on Killian’s face faltered, and then disappeared entirely as he took the time to process the news. Emma took a seat on the couch next to him, leaning into his side, before splurging out a ton of information about doctor appointments and stages of pregnancy, none of which went in. It was all just noise to him. His only focus was on the rapid speed at which the words were escaping her mouth and the animated hand movements which accompanied them.

It didn’t take a body language expert – an actual career (that people were paid for) in the Land Without Magic, he had discovered – to determine that Emma was thrilled at the prospect of being a mother again. Killian had seen her with Henry, and he had watched her when they had babysat little Neal over the years; there was no debating that she would be a great mother to their child.

Their child.

Killian could scarcely believe it. It didn’t feel real; that he and Emma had created life, that a child was growing inside her that very moment.

Perhaps it wasn’t real?

Had he fallen asleep?

It was the only explanation which made any logical sense to him. It had to be, he decided, that he had drifted off whilst reading his book and been thrown into the nightmare unfolding before him.

Nightmare? No. Dream.

He was dreaming that Emma was pregnant because having a child would be a good thing for them… right?

“…currently about the size of a prune.”

He took in a snippet of the whirlwind of information Emma was throwing at him.

A prune to whom he would be – was – a father.

Father.

What did that even mean?

“Killian,” Emma spoke as she took his hands in hers; her light touch, and the slight coolness of her skin against his, pulling him from his thoughts. She leaned in close, her green eyes locking with his blue. “This is a good thing, right?”

His question, exactly!

He knew it was supposed to be a good thing. He knew that Emma thought it was a good thing. The one thing he didn’t know was why he was struggling with it so much.

“It’s good,” Killian agreed in a daze, resorting to forcing a smile.

Because why the bloody hell did he feel so damn terrified?

--

It turned out it wasn’t a nightmare – no, dream – it was his reality; a completely terrifying – no, amazing – reality in which fatherhood was heading for him at an alarmingly – no, excitingly – fast rate. Ten weeks had flown by since Emma had bounded down the stairs and broken the mind-blowing news and, all of a sudden, he found himself at the hospital with Emma, awaiting their first pregnancy appointment. The feeling of terror, which had subsided as they’d promptly returned to going about their normal lives, had come crashing back down on top of him as soon as he had stepped into the hospital.

He needed to get out of there. Fast.

It was a need which wasn’t going to get met any time soon. He sat impatiently drumming his fingers against the cool metal armrest of his uncomfortable chair. There was only so much toing and froing he could watch the hospital staff do before he became bored out of his mind. His eyes flicked to the clock on the sterile white walls, confirming what he already knew; the appointments were running way behind. They should have been seen thirty minutes ago.

They could have been out of the bloody place, already!

His eyes fell on Ella and Thomas, seated on the other side of the waiting room. The couple were expecting their second child, and both wore smiles of gleeful anticipation upon their faces. Thomas had his hand resting on Ella’s stomach as she leaned against him, presumably looking for something more comfortable than the horrible metal chairs.

Killian glanced over at Emma beside him. She had a small bump, nowhere near as big as Ella’s who was months ahead of them in the process, but it was growing by the week. Emma had her own hands placed on her stomach, an action which – if he were to go by the mountain of pregnancy books Emma had bought – marked an unspoken language of love between her and the unborn baby.

He had never carried out such an action himself. A glance back at Ella confirmed Thomas still had his hand on her stomach. Killian found himself getting hit by a wave of doubt. Was he supposed to do that? Didn’t he love his unborn child?

“Killian!”

He was nudged in the side by Emma, pulling him out of his thoughts before he could work out the answer to that question. Except, he realized immediately, there was nothing to work out. Love towards his own child was unconditional. That much he was sure of, that much he knew without having to place his hand on Emma’s stomach. He could already feel the love for that child, rooted deeply within him.

So why the bloody hell was he still completely terrified?

“Killian!” Emma snapped his name.

He turned to her, “Huh?”

“We’re up,” she told him with a small smile of anticipation.

She pointed up at the screen on the waiting room wall which was being used to call patients to their appointments. Sure enough, the name Emma Swan was lit up in bold white lettering against the blue background, accompanied by Room Four to direct them.

Emma led the way, taking off at speed as if she were in hot pursuit of a suspect evading arrest. He found himself hurrying to keep up with her as she navigated the corridors like the back of her hand. He wasn’t at all surprised at how well she knew the layout, given the number of times she had been there over the years.

They were at room four within half a minute and Emma pushed the door open, being greeted immediately by the sonographer inside.

“Oh my gosh, guys!” the sonographer – Olivia – all but squealed. “I’m so happy for you both!”

“Thank you,” Emma replied, “though we aren’t telling anyone just yet.”

Storybrooke being the small town it was meant that everyone knew everyone and, as the Savior who had saved the town, and its inhabitants, on countless occasions, Emma could barely so much as buy hot chocolate (with cinnamon) at Granny’s without everyone knowing about it. Killian was surprised that no one had figured out their latest news already.

Emma had insisted they kept it on the downlow, with a splurge of information about pregnancies being at greater risk of complications in the first trimester. He hadn’t really understood it, but he’d gone with it, mostly keeping out of all the baby stuff, content to leave it to Emma. He certainly wasn’t in much of a hurry to tell anyone.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Olivia waved a dismissive hand. “Patient confidentiality. I won’t tell a soul! Though, I will say, everyone is going to be so excited when you do announce the news! I still remember the buzz around town when your parents were expecting Neal.”

Killian hovered in the doorway, staring at Olivia, perplexed by her gushing and the level of excitement that she was exhibiting. Anyone would have thought that she was the one who was pregnant. In just a minute, she had radiated more excitement than he had felt over the past ten weeks.

He wanted that. He wanted to be excited at the prospect of having a mini-me running around, and at teaching the child to sail and how to use a sword, but something was pulling him back. Something was making it so that whenever he so much as thought about being a father, he was hit by complete and utter dread.

Looking around the room at the various devices, the function of many completely unknown to him, only multiplied the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Since Emma had told him that she was pregnant nothing had really changed. They’d gone to work, they’d dropped by her parents’ every-so-often, and they had taken the odd sailing day trip. Other than Emma no longer consuming alcohol, buying the odd pregnancy book, and occasional musings about the nursery, they had mostly gone about their lives as normal. For the most part, he could pretend that things were normal. Standing in the doorway of the ultrasound room meant it was starting to feel real. He couldn’t push it to the back of his mind any longer. He couldn’t run from it anymore.

“Killian, come in and shut the door,” Emma prompted him.

He cleared his throat, sending her a small smile, “Right, of course, love.”

He ventured into the room, pushing the door shut behind him as instructed, and took the empty seat positioned beside the bed that Emma was lying on. She took ahold of his hand, sending him an excited smile which he did his best to replicate in return. He still didn’t feel that bloody excitement. All he felt was terror.

“Alright!” Olivia was grinning from ear-to-ear – someone clearly loved their job – as she pulled some protective gloves over her hands. “Let’s get right to the exciting part and take a look at your little one, shall we?”

Killian had no clue what it was that Olivia did next. It was the Land Without Magic so he knew that, if he asked, she would give him a scientific explanation that he would not follow. As far as he was concerned, however, it was magic, for she had rubbed some kind of potion onto Emma’s bump and then a black and white image of their child had appeared on the screen. He had done nothing but gape at the image as Olivia had determined the baby to look to be developing well and then proceeded to point out various features on the screen.

Olivia handed Emma a physical copy of the image on the screen. She passed it on to him as she started asking questions and delved into a deep discussion with Olivia over future tests and scans, nutrients, and vitamins. It all went over Killian’s head; he wasn’t listening, continuing to stare at the scan in his hand, processing exactly what was happening.

It was a picture of his child; a physical picture, their first picture, and he had it right there in his hand. The very hand that was sweating against the photographic paper.

It was real now.

His heart started beating fast, threatening to jump out of his chest.

There was physical proof of the child’s existence, beyond Emma’s bump and that stick device thing.

His breathing quickened.

There was no denying it. There was a child growing inside Emma; one that would come to depend on him as he once depended upon his own parents.

His chest tightened.

There really was no running from it anymore.

He couldn’t breathe.

He had to run. He had to get away.

He stood up abruptly. The chair legs scrapped against the floor. Two sets of eyes turned on him. He thrust the child’s picture at Emma.

“I’m sorry,” he forced out between sharp breaths, “I can’t.”

He didn’t wait around. He shot out the door like a bullet from a barrel. A series of hospital corridors. No windows. He needed to get outside. He needed air. The red exit signs lit his way. He burst through the doors, into sunlight, into fresh air. He dropped onto a bench. Closed his eyes. Tight.

Breathed. In. Out.

In. Out.

Slow.

Calm.

For a moment, for the briefest of moments; calm.

Then it was gone, as quickly as it had come, and a wave of guilt crashed over him. He had left. He had thrown the only picture of their child at Emma and ran. He’d left them.

“Killian?”

Emma. Gentle. Cautious. She placed her hand on his.

There was no running from her, from it. She knew her; she wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t run from it. He didn’t want to run from it. He wanted to do better.

In the fresh air, with Emma, so understanding and patient for an explanation, things were clearer; things were starting to make sense. He was still terrified, just as he had been for ten long weeks, but, finally, the reason for his terror was apparent. For weeks he had tortured himself for being so terrified of his own child, but he had gotten it all wrong. It wasn’t his child he was terrified of; it was himself. He was terrified of becoming the man he had hated for so long, the man he had driven himself to kill; he was terrified of becoming his father, of running from his child when they needed him most.

He opened his eyes, meeting Emma’s. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see anger or frustration in her green eyes, yet he only saw concern.

“I’m bloody terrified, love,” he confessed, allowing himself to be vulnerable with her; he trusted her, with everything.

“I know,” she replied softly. “It’s a big step, and it’s not something we were expecting quite so soon, but you are going to be brilliant.”

Killian dropped his gaze to the floor and gave a small shake of his head. He dared to pose the question, to speak the words out loud, “What if I’m just like him?”

“Like who?” Emma asked.

“I believe the saying goes ‘like father, like son’,” Killian expanded.

“No. Not you, not your father,” Emma protested adamantly. “I know you; I know the man you are. You won’t abandon our child for your own selfish reasons. That’s not you.”

“What compels you to put so much faith in me, Swan?” he asked.

“You do,” she stated. “You stand up and you fight for what you believe in, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. Now, take this and look at it.”

She held out the scan photograph for him once again. He eyed it carefully and she shook it gently to prompt him to take it. He reached for it, holding it between his thumb and first finger, and dropped his gaze onto the image. It was blurry, it was black and white, but it was his child. The child wasn’t doing anything of note, just growing and developing, and yet, looking at that single image, Killian had never felt so much pride. 

“And answer me one question, just one,” Emma continued. “Do you believe in her?”

Killian raised an eyebrow at her choice of words, “Her?”

“It’s a gut feeling,” Emma shrugged with a small smile. “So? Do you believe in her?”

“Aye, with all my heart,” Killian said.

Speaking to Emma, voicing his thoughts and concerns, getting it all off his chest had done wonders in alleviating his terror. Where he had once felt fear, all he felt, as his gaze returned to the image in his hand, was hope. Hope for the future, and hope for his family.

He lifted his left arm and gently guided his hook over his child’s image as he murmured, “I'll forever endeavour to do right by you, little one.”

Tags: @teamhook @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @myfearless-love

[mademoisellevixen]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓 + 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 🎸˚｡𖦹☆°‧⋆

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‼️Please refrain from bundling, stealing, or speeding up my works, as these actions can render them ineffective or disrupt the embedded energies, potentially leading to negative side effects. However, you’re welcome to download and enjoy them at your own pace.

Benefits ✮

Read the whole document first before asking questions. Subliminal includes god affirmations so use it only if you are comfortable. You can use this for literally EVERYTHING you could imagine, whether it is for general luck enhancing to entering the void state. It is literally versatile.

Click here🦇

Paid version of this subliminal ✮

As mentioned earlier, I’m excited to offer a paid version of this subliminal for those seeking an even more potent experience. The paid version boasts additional layers, maximum charging, and includes a vocalized spell for enhanced effectiveness. Additionally, I’m offering a personalized option where your name can be included for a truly customized experience. Please note, however, that I’m not currently accepting requests for personalized subliminals, affirmation tapes, or energy field audios due to the extensive time required for each creation.

A word of caution: it’s essential to experiment with my public subliminals first before considering a purchase, as results can vary from person to person. If you’re ready to elevate your results to the next level, feel free to reach out to me through the following platforms:

Email: mademoisellevixenn@gmail.com

Tumblr: @mademoisellevixen

Discord: @kimiko_kiki_

Some extra surprises for you ✮

As my subliminal channel is still in its early stages, I’m excited to offer you a special incentive for subscribing. I’ve poured my energy into creating and utilizing my manifestation journal, often referred to as a ‘wish book’. This journal has been meticulously charged with specific energies and attunements to aid in manifesting desires, complemented by the use of sigils and the inclusion of several servitors.

For those who subscribe to my YouTube channel, I’ll extend a unique opportunity: a free ‘wish’. Simply follow my channel, then screenshot and send me a direct message confirming your subscription. In return, I’ll write down your name (real or pseudonymous, as long as I’m attuned to it) along with one wish of yours. Please note, while this offering is a powerful tool for manifestation, it’s important to understand that it’s not a guaranteed means of fulfilling your desires.

Ending notes ✮

Thank you for taking the time to read my post. This is just the beginning of my subliminal creation journey. I am excited to share that I will be making other types of audios, including energy fields and affirmation tapes, on my YouTube channel. I hope you can support me on this journey. Thank you once again, and may your dreams manifest into reality 🖤

~Vixen ⭑

[whatsissue]

Starbucks Unveils New Wicked Drinks: Glinda’s Pink Potion and Elphaba’s Cold Brew

Starbucks Unveils New Wicked Drinks: Glinda’s Pink Potion and Elphaba’s Cold Brew Starbucks is brewing up some magic with its latest offerings inspired by the upcoming film "Wicked." Starting October 22, customers in the United States, Canada, and select international locations can indulge in two limited-time drinks that pay homage to the film's beloved characters: Glinda the Good Witch and Elphaba the Wicked Witch. Glinda’s Pink Potion Glinda’s Pink Potion embodies the vibrant spirit of Glinda, known for her iconic association with all things pink. According to Starbucks beverage developer Natalia Vasquez, this enchanting drink combines Mango Dragonfruit Starbucks Refreshers with coconut milk, ice, and a scoop of freeze-dried dragonfruit. It is then topped with nondairy strawberry cold foam and colorful candy sprinkles, making it as visually appealing as it is delicious. Elphaba’s Cold Brew On the other hand, Elphaba’s Cold Brew reflects the bold energy and striking green hue of Elphaba. As described by Starbucks beverage developer Rosalyn Batingan, this drink features Starbucks Cold Brew sweetened with peppermint-flavored syrup, topped with nondairy matcha cold foam and green candy sprinkles. It promises a refreshing and unique flavor experience for fans of the character. Additional Merchandise and Promotions

Starbucks In addition to the new drinks, Starbucks will offer “Wicked”-themed gift cards starting November 7. Fans will also be able to purchase a variety of “Oz”-inspired tumblers from the Glinda, Elphaba, or Emerald City collections, as well as other general “Wicked” merchandise and a trio of mugs from the “Wicked” Discovery Series Collection. The film "Wicked," starring Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, is set to hit theaters on November 22, with a sequel, "Wicked Part Two," scheduled for release on November 21, 2025. The promotional campaign for the highly anticipated movie is already in full swing, with "Wicked" Stanley cups creating a buzz at Target. Meanwhile, Walmart has seen its microwaveable “Wicked” Mystery Color Macaroni and Cheese, which features color-changing pink or green cheese, sell out quickly. With these new drinks and merchandise, Starbucks is making sure fans of "Wicked" can celebrate the magic of Oz in style. Thank you for taking the time to read this article! Your thoughts and feedback are incredibly valuable to me. What do you think about the topics discussed? Please share your insights in the comments section below, as your input helps me create even better content. If you enjoyed this post and want to stay updated with more informative and engaging articles, don’t forget to hit the subscribe button! I’m committed to bringing you the latest insights and trends, so stay tuned for upcoming posts. Wishing you a wonderful day ahead, and I look forward to connecting with you in the comments! Read the full article

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Raised in the East Village, acclaimed and highly sought-after trumpeter Dave Guy was surrounded by hip-hop and the hustle that seemed to define the city in the 90s. During those formative days, he and his playing style were influenced by the likes of Donald Byrd and Hugh Masekela, but also by A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul.  His time at LaGuardia Performing Arts High School furthered this path. Guy remembers sharing playing time with  Big Crown Records co-founder Leon Michels and highly sought-after drummer Homer Steinweiss. “Being in the All-City Jazz Big Band, I would see them rehearsing all the time,” the New York-born and-based musician recalls. “They were already doing things with The Dap-Kings back then—which was crazy.” His voice as a player began to take shape and continued to be refined through his studies at The Manhattan School of Music and The New School — and then playing withSharon Jones & The Dap Kings, Charles Bradley and Menahan Street Band, The Sugarman 3 and more. He has played on albums from the likes of Amy Winehouse, Mark Ronson, Pharrell Williams, Lee Fields, the legendary Al Green — er, correction, the Rev. Al Green — and a lengthy list of others. And adding to a growing profile, Guy currently plays with The Roots live and on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. Guy finally steps out into the much-deserved spotlight with his full-length debut, Ruby. Slated for a September 20, 2024 release through Big Crown Records, the 12-song album sees the highly sought-after NYC scene mainstay exploring New York jazz and pushing the boundaries of the style by incorporating elements of hip-hop and soul in a way that’s both unique and modern.  As fate would have it, a classic case of “when one door shuts, another opens” was really what got the ball rolling on the album. “I never wanted to force my own project,” Guy explains. “There was always a lot going on between things—the timing was never right.” But when The Tonight Show went on hiatus during last year’s Writers’ Strike, there was an unexpected free moment.  Within days, Guy started recording sessions with Steinweiss and Nick Movshon (bass). What initially started out as a just an opportunity to create music, quickly took shape and direction when they ended up laying down something that felt wildly special and authentic. The result is an album that captures different moods and serves as an invitation to the world as Dave Guys sees it and feels it.  Last month, the acclaimed and highly sought-after musician shared the album’s first single “7th Heaven,” a composition anchored around a bed of twinkling and dancing keys, a strutting Movshown bass line, swaggering boom bap drums from Steinweiss and ethereal backing coos from Clairo/Claire Cottrill serving as a funky and anthemic bed for Guy’s regal and soulful horn melody. The result is a composition that’s swaggering yet cinematic, while capturing the energy and vibe of a day — or night — in and around New York.  “It has a groove and is more in line with what the guys and I are known for with Menahan Street Band, but it is also in-your-face and catchy,” Guy says. “It’s a bit of an ode to Tijuana Brass too, a Herb Alpert-esque track with a tight horn line and has that energy that pops.” Ruby‘s latest single “I’ll Follow You” is a gorgeously serene bit of counterbalance anchored around a driving rhythm section and juxtaposed by Guy’s soulful and meditative horn melody with a subtle call and response. Sonically, “I’ll Follow You” — to my ears, at least — is a bit of a synthesis of Kind of Blue-era modal compositions with J. Dilla and Stones Throw Records-like beat tapes. It feels thoughtful and warmly familiar yet new — and much like its predecessors evokes the energy and feel of Guy’s hometown.

[rowanisawriter]

Hey Rowan! Here we goooo: Cullen & Rylen with He did each single thing as if he did nothing else. - A Tale of Two Cities from Dickens prompts!

hiiiii thank you lucky!! cullen & rylen (or cullen/rylen 👀) is really growing on me. i'm also being a little liberal with the interpretation of this line here lol

for @dadrunkwriting

wc: 922

The moment Cullen jumps off his horse at the gates of the fortress, dust gathering around him and his entourage of messengers and soldiers, he’s ambushed by a crowd in Inquisition green, hoods pulled up against the harsh desert sun, paperwork in the air for him to review or approve. He accepts the paperwork, the reports, the marked up maps and opened letters. His feet move him into a patch of shade. Sweat beads at his hairline. The back of his neck aches in anticipation of sunburn. 

“These two require immediate attention, sir,” someone says and presses a short stack of paper into his hand.

“Very well,” he says shortly, scanning the pages, skipping over every other word. “Anything from Val Royeaux in here?”

“Nothing yet, sir. I can check again, sir.”

“See that you do.” Cullen puts his hand forward, and the stack of paper disappears from his view, whisked away by another recruit. “The rest of you find me after I’ve been briefed by Rylen, please.”

The recruits scatter. Cullen starts moving again immediately but something catches the edge of his sleeve. 

He half turns, already on his way, one foot planted in the sand and the other in the air. But it isn’t something that’s caught him, it’s someone.

“Commander.” Rylen’s smiling, smiling and squinting in the bright sunlight that pours into the courtyard. 

“Rylen, good to see you.” Cullen reaches into his cloak. “Here, I have some letters for you I was able to pick up on my way. My party also has an updated map—”

“Wait, wait.” Rylen puts his hand up, but not to accept the stack of letters in Cullen’s hand. “I haven’t seen you in months. How are you?”

Cullen blinks. In the stillness of the moment, he’s suddenly aware of how utterly exhausted he is. He holds on to the vestiges of energy that slowly drains from him and presses the stack of letters into Rylen’s chest plate. “I’m fine. Here. Let’s walk and talk.”

“Alright.” Rylen starts at a leisurely pace. Soon, he’s jogging to catch up with Cullen. “Wait. Do you want a tour? This is your first time here since the Inquisition took over.”

“A tour,” Cullen repeats.

“Yes, a tour! I’ve had some work done on the southern entrance. It’s no longer as caved in, although we could use some more supplies to reinforce the gates.”

“Alright, let’s see that gate and I’ll requisition some–”

“No, no.” Rylen puts a hand up again. “I’m not trying to get supplies out of you. I’m just trying to show you our progress for now.”

“Oh.” Cullen rubs his eyes. He can feel grains of sand under his eyelids, or maybe he’s just that tired. He starts to raise his other hand to swipe at the sweat on his forehead and realizes he’s still holding the letters. “Rylen. Your letters.”

“My letters.” Rylen accepts the stack, tucking it under his arm. “Come to the gate. Let me share our progress.”

To the gate, and then the new watering system, and then the latest yield from nearby quarries. Rylen walks slowly from place to place, and Cullen follows, filled with restless energy that bursts out of him in bits and pieces as twitchy hands and heels digging into the dirt underfoot and eyes squinting then widening as they move from sun to shade to sun again. Rylen takes  his time between tasks, and upon reaching a new task, takes his time again to begin it. 

He looks at Cullen out of the corner of his eye as they reach the cool darkness of his office, the windows shut tightly against the desert heat. “Is it too much to ask for you to take a seat?” he asks.

Cullen takes a seat. His muscles unclench slowly, readjusting to the comfort of the padded chair, a welcome break from the hard saddle he’d been riding on for days. 

“Alright?” Rylen says.

“Alright.” Cullen’s knee bounces up and down. Rylen’s eyes drop to catch the movement. 

“A drink, I think.” He reaches into his desk and pulls out a bottle of clear liquid, along with two dusty glasses. He wipes a glass with a handkerchief, pours a finger of the liquor, and passes it across his desk to Cullen. “Welcome to Griffon Wing Keep, Commander. I hope it isn’t too much of a shock from the grandeur of Skyhold.”

Cullen eyes the liquor hesitantly. Rylen pours himself a glass and takes a long, indulgent sip.

“Things aren’t as grand, I agree,” Cullen says. “But you certainly move a little slower here.”

“I’m no multitasker, it’s true,” Rylen says. “I’m drinking right now. That’s all I’m going to do until the drink is done. Then I will move onto the next thing.” He leans forward, his elbows on the desk. His eyes sweep up the front of Cullen’s armor to meet his eyes. “You should try it. Slow down.”

Slow down. Cullen’s mind swims with words read on horseback or in the flickering light of a campfire, half absorbed, half remembered. Outside, his team waits for him to emerge from Rylen’s office, doubtless with another few hundred reports to review or maps to mark up or orders to bark out. Rylen looks at him, waiting.

Cullen leans back in his seat, letting his back hit the worn wooden back of the chair, and takes a long sip of the clear drink, feeling it burn its slow way down his throat and into the pit of his stomach.