#buy fume hood

[santechlabs]

Quality Matters: Best Laboratory Fume Hood Manufacturers in India

When it comes to laboratory safety and efficiency, few pieces of equipment are as crucial as fume hoods. These essential tools protect researchers, students, and the environment from harmful substances by containing and expelling hazardous fumes and vapors. In India, the demand for high-quality laboratory fume hoods is on the rise, driven by advancements in scientific research and a growing emphasis on safety and sustainability. Among the leading manufacturers in the country, Santech Labs stands out for its commitment to quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction.

Santech Labs has established itself as a premier manufacturer of laboratory fume hoods in India, catering to the diverse needs of research institutions, educational facilities, and industrial laboratories. With a focus on precision engineering and superior craftsmanship, Santech Labs delivers fume hoods that meet the highest international standards for safety, performance, and durability. Their comprehensive range of products includes ducted fume hoods, ductless fume hoods, and specialized hoods tailored to specific applications, ensuring that customers can find the perfect solution for their laboratory requirements.

One of the key factors that sets Santech Labs apart from its competitors is its unwavering commitment to quality. Each fume hood undergoes rigorous testing and inspection processes to ensure compliance with industry regulations and customer specifications. From the selection of materials to the final assembly, every step of the manufacturing process is meticulously monitored to maintain the highest standards of excellence. This dedication to quality not only enhances the safety and reliability of Santech Labs' fume hoods but also instills confidence in customers who rely on these vital pieces of equipment for their research endeavors.

In addition to uncompromising quality, Santech Labs prioritizes innovation and technological advancement in its fume hood designs. The company continuously invests in research and development to integrate the latest technologies and features into its products, enhancing performance, efficiency, and user experience. Whether it's implementing energy-saving measures, improving airflow dynamics, or enhancing containment capabilities, Santech Labs remains at the forefront of innovation, ensuring that customers have access to cutting-edge solutions that meet the evolving needs of modern laboratories.

Sustainability is another core value that defines Santech Labs' approach to fume hood manufacturing. Recognizing the environmental impact of laboratory operations, the company strives to minimize its carbon footprint through eco-friendly practices and materials. Santech Labs utilizes sustainable manufacturing processes, such as recycling and waste reduction, to minimize environmental impact while maximizing resource efficiency. Additionally, the company offers energy-efficient fume hood options that help laboratories reduce energy consumption and operating costs without compromising safety or performance.

Central to Santech Labs' success is its unwavering commitment to customer satisfaction. The company places great emphasis on building long-term relationships with its clients, understanding their unique requirements, and providing personalized solutions that exceed expectations. From initial consultation to installation and ongoing support, Santech Labs ensures a seamless experience for customers, offering expert guidance, timely assistance, and responsive service every step of the way. This customer-centric approach has earned Santech Labs a reputation for reliability, trustworthiness, and excellence in the laboratory equipment industry.

In conclusion, Santech Labs stands out as one of the best laboratory fume hood manufacturers in India, thanks to its dedication to quality, innovation, sustainability, and customer satisfaction. With a comprehensive range of high-quality products, advanced technologies, and unparalleled service, Santech Labs continues to set the benchmark for excellence in laboratory safety and efficiency. Whether you're a research institution, educational facility, or industrial laboratory, you can trust Santech Labs to deliver fume hoods that meet your needs, exceed your expectations, and contribute to a safer, more sustainable future for scientific exploration in India and beyond.

[susanlabnic]

Labnic Ductless Fume Hood Ductless Fume Hood is a high-efficiency product. with ergonomic features that provide excellent containment. The ductless fume hood consumes 400 watts of power. The ductless fume hood is equipped with temperature and humidity sensors that can detect indoor parameters. 

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Please Please Please

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.1k

Summary: Someone is in trouble

A/N: 💋

Warnings: angst, fluff, exactly what you expect

You sigh as you lean back against the hood of the car that’s still uncomfortably warm from the ride over. You glare up at the stars as you shift to get more comfortable in your impractical outfit. Well it was perfectly practical for what you had planned for tonight, but that wasn’t meant to be apparently. 

You pull your leather jacket tighter around you and fight the urge to shiver from the cool air. You had only wanted to get drinks with some friends tonight since it was Friday.

You knew that Wanda was busy with work, but you were used to this and you’d just told her to be safe as usual when you saw her off this morning. Wanda had promised you to be careful and return to you unscathed despite what she had to face today. Recently, you have become relatively unaffected by thoughts of Wanda’s work when she said the right things. There were certain words that were red flags to you that could spike your blood pressure instantly, and she'd learned to avoid those quickly.

None of these were used this morning though when you said goodbye to your wife. When you’d asked what was on her agenda for the day, she’d told you no more than ‘nothing too interesting’. The use of the word ‘too’ should have made you suspicious, but then again hindsight is 20/20 after all. 

Not to mention, the fact that you are waiting outside of police headquarters is a pretty good indicator of how your wife’s day had gone. 

You weren’t given details when Steve had called to tell you that Wanda was arrested. You hadn’t wanted them, but after you heard that she was booked and they were buying their time to see if they could hold her, you’d cracked and asked Bucky to explain it. 

Now here you were fuming at the fact that your wife was arrested for getting into a fist fight like some common criminal. You were told that a deal had gone poorly, and that Wanda had gotten a little roughed up which only made your irritation at her apparent recklessness increase ten-fold. 

You only have to stew for a few more minutes before the sound of doors being pushed open catches your attention. You look up from your inconspicuous spot in the parking lot to see your wife, Bucky, and Steve walking out of the building with a disgruntled Wanda leading the way. You roll your eyes and clench your teeth as you watch your wife look around for you only to have Steve point in your direction. 

You keep your expression as neutral as possible, but it’s a little difficult given your annoyance, as Wanda hurries down the stairs and across the lot with a smile. 

“Hi detka.” 

Usually a greeting like this would make you smile, or even melt depending on how sweet Wanda’s accompanying smile is. However, you’re upset with her for a couple of reasons, the first of which that she didn’t give you any indication that she would be in danger today. You study her as she stops in front of you and even under the dim lights you see that she has a bruised jaw and a small cut underneath her eye. You are irrationally annoyed that despite being locked up all afternoon, and punched in the face, she still manages to look beautiful. 

You shake your head at her before uncrossing your legs with a sigh. You wave her closer so you can get a better look at her, and Wanda doesn’t waste any time leaning in with a wider smile that shows off her perfect teeth. You reach up and grab her chin before her lips can meet yours and you hold her still as you glance at her bruised skin. You shoot her a disapproving look that makes her eyes drop from your lips to the hood of the car. You ignore your friends as they head to their car, saying something indiscernible to Wanda on their way.

“You’re trouble Mrs. Maximoff.” 

Wanda prepares to make an excuse, but you cut her off as your fingers press uncomfortably against her jaw. You only feel bad instantly when she winces, and you sigh in defeat before leaning in to kiss the discolored skin gently. You notice the smile creeping back on her face, but it doesn’t stay there long when you slide off the car as gracefully as possible in your dress. Your heels smack against the pavement, and for once you’re a little taller than Wanda so you can look down at her as you flip your hair over your shoulder.

“I hope you like the couch, Wanda.” 

You walk toward the driver’s side of the car and almost beat Wanda to it. You watch wordlessly as she reaches out to open the door for you, and you meet her disappointed look with one of your own. You think that maybe you’ll feel more merciful in the morning, but for now you’re upset that your wife failed to keep herself safe. You reach out for her again, stopping just short of her bloodied eye before you roll your eyes again. 

“You’re going to be sleeping there until this heals.” 

You duck into the car before you can see Wanda’s pleading look, but you know it’s there and if you look now you’ll crack before morning. You wait until she shuts your door and moves to the other side of the car which you’ve started before she’s even gets in. You take a deep breath before you get buckled and wait for Wanda to get settled. You reach out to shift gears, but you pause when Wanda’s hand covers yours. You turn to see her, expectedly, looking contrite, and you’re not at all surprised by what she says. 

“I’m sorry, detka. Things just got out of hand.” 

You don’t doubt this and you just nod silently before turning your hand over and squeezing hers. Your lips quirk before you can stop them and you bring your joined hands to your mouth as you turn to meet your wife’s gaze. You turn away quickly so her pouty expression doesn’t weaken your resolve. You release her hand and shift into drive before turning to follow your friends home. You reach out blindly and pat your wife’s thigh with a smirk that she definitely sees this time.

“I know, babe, but you’re still couched.” 

You hear a quiet thud as Wanda’s head falls back against her headrest with a sigh of defeat or exasperation. You’re not sure which, but either way, you hope your wife learns from this. When you ask her to do something for you, you expect her to do her damned best to make it happen. Still your displeasure with your wife won’t stop you from tending to her wounds and kissing them better later. 

On the couch, of course. 

Masterlist

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the busted engine

lilac, chapter one

a/n: the plot of this series came to me like fucking lightning, essentially all at once with how quick it fell into place. sometimes it's like that, sometimes magic happens in your brain. I hope you all enjoy this ride as much as I am having writing it. get ready for everything, because I've got twenty chapters planned out and ready, and spoiler, they aren't all just gonna be insanely wholesome small town cuteness... we getting angsty... we getting the drama.... but most of all, we be getting slutty. strap in folks.

summary: “I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, car trouble, meet cute

word count: 2674

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Your vision couldn’t help but linger every time it drifted over your hands gripping the steering wheel. The immense weight the sight of your bare ring finger lifted off your shoulders was so overwhelming that you found yourself fighting tears from blurring the road before you. 

The sun was beginning to set as you had been driving all day long, not stopped for even a second to let the gravitas sink in of what you’d done at the crack of dawn. 

The fear of Preston stirring from his slumber and finding you in the midst of sneaking out still hadn’t settled within your gut. Your paranoid brain still compelled you to check the rear-view mirror every couple of seconds just in case the sleek sportscar of your former fiancé would appear.

You had finally done what he had drilled into your mind you weren’t capable of. You’d left him for good. 

Equipped with only a small backpack of your belongings, the last thing you’d done before sneaking out of the apartment had been to toss the ring he had so insistently forced upon your finger into the trash. 

Ripping you out of your cloudy thoughts, your car suddenly began to cough like a mythical monster that was dying. 

“Oh shit…” you felt the vehicle begin to slow as ominous smoke started to billow out from under the hood. Mindful of the bushy pine trees framing the road, you guided it to the edge just in time before it gave out. 

Stepping out with an exhausted sigh, you promptly cracked the front open to take a look, though what you saw within didn’t soothe your worries as all of the fumes oozing out only made the broken engine look like that much more of a mess. 

“Fucking great,” you mumbled heatedly, fiercely slamming the hood shut in an effort to relieve some of your abundant stress. Curving back around, you swung the passenger side open and rummaged for your phone, though when you located it, the only solution it flashed you was a blinking red battery icon before the screen went completely black, “seriously?” 

Not knowing if you were about to scream or burst into tears, you chucked it back inside before hurling your spine against the side of the car, leaning against it as you cursed up at the grey sky. 

Was this the universe showing its true bias? You’d hoped that was the one thing money couldn’t buy, but perhaps you were wrong, just like he always said you were. Perhaps it would be best if you went back to the city. His reaction towards a stunt like this couldn’t be that bad compared to what you had endured before, could it? 

The sound of another vehicle cresting the thicket on the rural road caught your ears and you turned your head to see a navy-blue truck appear.

Your hand shot up to wave it down before you could even ponder the action. Fearing that it was a lost cause by the speed the driver was going at, it caught you by surprise as it suddenly came to a halt a ways in front of you. 

“Are you alright, ma'am?” the driver asked as he slammed his door shut behind him. The tall man certainly looked like the type to call the area his home. Dark beard scraggly and hair in unkept waves long enough to tickle the furrow lines decorating his forehead, his wide palm traced the lines of the truck as he made his way towards you.

“I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

Eyeing your busted vehicle a moment, his low timbre then rumbled out once more, “sure,” as he reached into his pocket and fished out his telephone.

“Thank you so much,” seizing it, you swiftly clicked it to life, “you have no idea what a lifesaver you are–, oh fuck,” your vision zeroed in on the lack of bars in the uppermost corner, “of course there’s no fucking services out here,” your eyes briefly screwed shut and your jaw clenched in an effort not to scream, “it’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll just walk then!” you tried not the throw it as you handed the phone back to the helpful stranger, “I’m sorry that you had to stop for nothing, but thank you anyways.”

Swinging your door open to yank out your stuff, the stranger’s feet stayed fast, “what direction are you headed?” 

“Dunbrook,” you answered as your body folded to reach your tossed telephone.

“You wanna catch a ride?” he unexpectedly offered, causing you to bump your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow–, what?” you blinked back at him through the windshield as your hand shot up to rub the top of your now sore head, “no, I couldn’t… I–, uh, I kinda recognise this area, the town is not too far from here, so I can walk, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but it’ll properly still take you all night. Please, it’s no bother, I’m headed in that direction anyways.” 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you slowly retracted out of the vehicle, “you sure?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, attempting a faint smile in order to soften his gruff and intimidating features. 

“Alright,” swinging your backpack on you slammed your busted car shut, “thank you.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you clicked on the seatbelt and slotted your bag between your legs. Fiddling tensely with the straps for a moment, it dawned on you how your sleeves were still rolled all the way up to your elbows from when you had checked under the hood. Pulse instantly picking up and thumping in your ears, you hastily tugged them back down to cover the lavender bruises peaking out. 

Had he noticed?

Hearing the door slam to your left, being too caught up in your own mess, it only caused your form to jump in the seat.

Trying to play it off as nothing, you attempted a casual, “I’m Y/n by the way,” though your voice came out much more strangled than you’d intended. 

Catching your flickering eye a moment before turning the key, he likewise enlightened, “Pete.” 

Your bottom lip didn’t escape the prison of your teeth the entire ride, gnawing subconsciously at it as you purposely stare out at the wild flora you passed in order to not look at the advantageous stranger. 

Though after you passed the crooked sign welcoming you back to your small hometown, Pete’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“So, where can I drop you off?”

“The inn,” you turned your head to inform him, “the Lilac Inn, if you know where that is.”

“Yeah, I know it,” he nodded, sucking in a knowing breath as if he didn’t need any more information to figure you out, “so you’re a tourist? One of those nature people who come out here to hike or something?”

“Not exactly,” was all the explanation you offer as you watched the familiar scenery come into view. 

Dunbrook. To call it a town was very generous indeed as the whole population could properly fit under the same roof if they really wanted to, and they often did. The rolling fields of wildlife that surrounded the village also divided and broke up the infrastructure of the old settlement, causing most of the homes and businesses to not all the clustered together as you had grown accustomed to seeing after moving to a metropolis as vast as New York. 

Every familiar structure rolling by evoked memories long ago buried and forgotten. The corner where you fell learning how to ride a bike. The quaint general store where you once stole a lollipop, walked for all of 48 seconds before turning right back and apologising to the owner with tears in your eyes. But most of all, the large Victorian structure at the bottom of the tiny town by far held the fondest of memories in your heart. 

The dust puffed up around the truck as you rolled down the narrow dirt road, the bushy lilac trees that flourished all over the property haven not quite yet come into bloom, yet still forewarned your destination that already peaked over the tops. 

“Here it is,” Pete exhaled as the car came to a stop before the vast veranda, “the Lilac Inn.” 

Eyes glued to your childhood home, you stepped out of the truck, “thank you,” slamming the door shut, you turned to add awkwardly through the rolled down window, “and also thank you for not turning out to be an axe murderer or something,” a nervous laugh swiftly bubbling out at the notion.

Glancing back at your bumbling form, he simply flashed you a tight-lipped smile and said, “you have a good trip, ma'am.” 

“You too–, I mean, you have a good, uhm, rest of your life,” you fumbled as your feet slowly backed up, “it was nice meeting you, Pete.” 

“Yeah, you too,” he just managed to reply before you spun your mortified flush away from his stare and scurried up the steps of the porch. 

Pushing the creaky, stained glass adorn front door open, you tiptoed inside. 

The lighting dim and the atmosphere nothing short of comforting, a smile finally bloomed upon your lips as you let out the breath you’d been holding for who knows how long. 

Peeking around the corner into one of the sitting rooms, you only spotted one patron sitting by the small round table next to the crackling fireplace, working away at a puzzle. Either the others had gone to bed already or this fellow was the only one staying here. 

“Excuse me,” you gently interrupted from the archway, “would you happen to know where the owner, Harvey, is–”

Though before you managed to get out the remainder of the sentence, a bustle from the kitchen answered your question for you, “every time I forget to whisk long enough and every time I say it’s gonna be different, but this time I mean it!”

Sharing a knowing look with the guest, you chuckle, “never mind…” 

“This time I won't just stop when my arm feels like it’s gonna fall off,” even though it was clear he was talking to himself, his usual vibrato still carried, “oh no, no, you just wait and see how light and fluffy you turn out this time, cake!” 

Poking your head through the ajar door, you spotted the familiar greying man grumbling into the contents of the bowl he was furiously beating with a whisk. 

“Dad?”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, your father gasped, whisk jolting upright as he laid his eyes upon you, subsequently splattering some batter across the kitchen, back near the sink, “Y/n?” he exclaimed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers, “is that really you? Is my little baby girl really standing in my kitchen or is this a hallucination?”

“Hi,” your head tilted in a soft chuckle. 

Staring at you as if you were just a newborn puppy, “oh, come here, munchkin and give your pops a hug!” the moustachioed man’s arms went wide and pulled you in, dropping whisk still in his hand as he blubbered into your hair, “ah, I’ve missed you so much,” squeezing your form in the magical way that only parents could, “I haven’t heard from you in, well I don’t even know how long, that’s how long and if you ask me then that’s too long,” he pulled back, cupping your cheek as he gazed at you, “you don’t write, you don’t call.”

“Not true, I do write,” you corrected him light-heartedly, “and you don’t have a cellphone.” 

“Well, there’s the telephone out in reception, why would I need more?” he shrugged, lending you to then slip out of his grip, swiftly boosting your own form to hop onto one of the empty counters, “also, your last letter was 10 months ago.” 

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” you gasped, thinking back.

“You can check the date, they’re still in the cookie tin up there,” he gestured to one of the top shelves before reuniting the whisk in his grip with the large bowl on the table. 

Only briefly glancing up at the enamel box, you already knew that you didn’t wanna revisit them. However vague the letters were, which they always were, you were still certain that they’d have the power to send you right back there into Preston’s iron fist, even though you’d never even mentioned him once in all the years you’d been with him. They only ever really contained small talk and pleasantries, never about something so personal as to whom you were dating, but you also didn’t share at all as things took a turn for the worse, when you were in so deep that you felt like you couldn’t escape. Perhaps it was out of pride, perhaps it was to shield him from the truth, or maybe even in a way yourself, not admitting to the fiend you had welcomed into your own bed, creating some false reality as a coping mechanism. 

Averting your gaze, you then uttered softly, “I’m really sorry dad,” gliding your right thumb over the jagged edge of the counter as you gripped onto it with both fists.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he waved a hand, “you’re young, out there living your life. You shouldn’t have to check in with your father every few seconds. I am aware that you’re 29 after all. Although, you know I wouldn’t be a pose to just a little bit more…” he winked, playfully bumping the side of his hip against your shin before picking up the speed of the whisk once more, “so, did I forget it’s my birthday or did you just miss your old man?” his jovial glance flickered between you and the batter. 

“Can I stay here a while? I just need some place to,” lay low, “figure things out, you know?”

Whisk halting, his gaze upon you grew in concern, “of course you can, honey. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay, I just–, uh… needed a change,” not looking him in the eye, you spoke, “I don’t know to where or what I’m gonna do next, but I do know that I don’t wanna go back,” you felt a lump of emotion swell up in your throat, “and I won’t just stay here for free, I’ll pay you rent,” you tried to appease the stubborn sensation of being a nuance to everyone, even to your own kin, “though I don’t really have any money right now, so I’d have to get a job first, but that’s fine, I’ll figure something out–” 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” your father cut you off, “you can stay here as long as you want, it never stopped being your home even when you moved away. Still keep your room exactly the same, just in case,” he offered you a warm smile, his silver moustache stretching wider, “how about you just give me a hand around here, huh?” 

“Alright,” you exhaled, “deal.”

His grin turning more mischievous, he then noted slyly, “you know I’ve always dreamed of you taking over this place one day, running the family business…” 

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, “not this again…”

“Just think about, you could–”

“Dad, I’m not gonna take over the inn! Running a place like this isn’t what it used to be back when your parents opened it up. You might have always been dead set on taking over it, but I haven’t.”

“I know, I know,” he gracefully backed down again as he always did, “you want adventure, isn’t that what you called it when you went away for college?” 

Adventure… it was that kind of philosophy that had sent an innocent young girl into the arms of a devil…

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[stealingyourbones]

Hello

I just finished reading the chemistry teacher Danny phantom post and saw you and your twin mention a really chaotic chemistry teacher you had

It's fine if not, but I was wondering if you had any more stories about that teacher?

They sounded really fun and I am now curious what other antics they got up to.

Sorry if I'm asking too much.

Oh no absolutely I can! That man was my chemistry teacher for two years and was my favorite teacher of all time.

Ok sO.

- The Fume Hood Incident (twin shall explain @bonebrokebuddy)

- making an absolute SHIT ton of thermite when we couldn’t inhale boron gas as our last chemistry club experiment. We initially wanted to melt a hole in a junk car with it but the dude who offered his car backed out :(

- did the “exploding gummy bear” experiment that made a lot of very toxic gas for shits and giggles. We had to stay in another teachers classroom for the next class period because the room had ventilate for a while.

- once burned some extra magnesium for fun DIRECTLY UNDER THE FIRE DETECTOR and made the entire school leave because the fire alarm got set off in the dead of winter. Things akin to this happened two more times.

- since the first incident, he found out how to TURN OFF the fire detectors in his room whenever he’s doing experiments involving fire. Evidently he failed twice in this exercise.

- self medicated ADHD with coffee and drank at least 3 pots of the stuff during school hours. He had his own coffee machine in the classroom. Once did a presentation on potency stuff and brought in espresso for the class to drink. That man drank a whole pot of it before the end of the school day.

- during said coffee drinking experiments, he broke his one mug he used and used a new beaker for 2 weeks until he bothered to get a new one. Rinse and repeat this exact scenario from the beginning of his teaching until he left.

- would buy pure chemical or whatever un watered down esque chemicals are and would lower the molar count himself because “he didn’t want to pay for water” and did it IN THE CLASS ROOM BY HIMSELF WITH NO FUME HOOD. (Chemistry terms are bad I haven’t had a chem class in 5 years)

- this man is now a college professor I think. Where he rightfully should be because there is no way the experiments we did with him were given a green light through the wavers we signed.

- he bought the school a blast shield with the rest of the chemistry club funds to encourage the next chem teacher to do more dangerous experiments. (They never did :( )

These are just annecdotes. If @bonebrokebuddy wants to add onto it they’re free to do so :)

[mha-cuties-pls]

Incel!Shigaraki x reader Headcannons

Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader | Rating: M | Words: n/a | genre: smut

A/N: Soooooo, writing these actually gave me the best idea for a scenario 🥴 just in love with the idea of touch starved and incredibly horny Incel!Shigaraki fixating on a girl and attempting to force her into submission, only to find out she had been craving him just as much as he was

Incel!Shigaraki that notices you in public one day when he was out at the mall buying a new video game, unable to tear his eyes away from your suggestively lewd outfit, deciding that a beautiful girl dressed like that in public wanted, no needed, his greedy eyes to objectify you. Shigaraki couldn’t usually have cared less about other people when he went out in public. They didnt share the same intelligence level or tenacity he did, and besides, they would all submit to The League of Villains in due time anyways; there was no point in trying to converse with any of them. That was, at least, until he stopped by the mall one day to pick up the newest edition of a game that had just been released, and his eyes couldn’t help but lock onto your voluptuous figure. It’s not like it was his fault he was staring, in that short skirt and tight tank top you were practically naked. He could even tell you weren’t wearing a bra as his eyes followed each bounce and jiggle of your chest as you walked over to the Nintendo Switch games. Still mesmerized, he watched you from across the store, and his heart began to pick up when you bent down to retrieve Cooking Mama on the bottom row, allowing him to catch a quick glimpse of your underwear. Feeling the twitch in his pants, he was unable to tear his eyes away from you- even when your gaze met his. What really sealed your fate, however, was the fact that upon meeting his eyes, you had the audacity to smirk at his actions. It was then that Tomura decided you needed to be taught a lesson.

Incel!Shigaraki who begins to stalk you in his free time, watching with distain every time he saw you talking to another guy he had never seen before Watching you giggle and playfully hit the male companion who sat next to you at the food court made Shigarakis skin boil. He knew that there was no way you were actually laughing that hard at anything that guy had to say; You were just being the slutty little girl that you were, probably craving and aching between your legs in ways that you should only be doing for him. Shigarakis grimace continued as he fumed from the corner where he sat watching, scratching at his neck and trying not to let his explosive anger get in the way of his careful planning.

Incel!Shigaraki who finally, after observing you for weeks, makes his move when he sees you alone one day buying bubble tea, and despite his inexperience, actually does a phenomenal job playing the part of a charmer. “Why don’t you come back with me for a bite to eat?” He says, voice laced with something that you can’t quite put your finger on. “I know this great hole in the wall and besides,” pulling his hood back a bit so you can more clearly see his features, you saw the ghost of a smile that was almost sinister tugging at his scarred lips, “we’ll be able to talk more privately there.”

Incel!Shigaraki who has never had sex, but wastes no time fulfilling his darkest and roughest desires, living out fantasies he had only ever seen on porn, never imaging he would be blessed with such a beautiful, obedient little whore of his own He stared down with an almost incredulous look on his face as he watched you slink down in front of him with your beautiful ass perched high in the air, your slick entrance shining in the low light of the room just begging for him to finally enter. He shoved himself inside clumsily and with force you weren’t expecting, making you cry out as he filled your aching cunt. You heard him breathing heavily, and he declined to move at first. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw his eyes basking in the sight before him. His hands were gripping your ass and shaking it, even giving small slaps watching your fat jiggle in a way more delectable than he ever could have imagined. When he watched porn he always imagined what it would actually be like to have a beautiful woman under him, complacent and begging for his touch; But the reality proved to be so much better than he ever could have thought. Seemingly coming back to reality after his quick daydream, he pulled out ever so slowly, before slamming into you with even more force than before. “____,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “scream my name.”

Incel!Shigaraki who stares almost too intently at your stark naked form, just drinking in the erotic sight of your curves and soft skin, making you blush a bit and serving to make you feel sexy and a little more confident than you usually would

Incel!Shigaraki who talks a big game, but ends up inevitably going too hard too fast after he finally stuck it in, involuntarily cumming inside you with delicious whimpers of his own Shigarakis ferocious and sporadic thrusts culminated suddenly with an almost violent stop, and he laid his body across your back as you stayed on your hands and knees on the bed. Feeling his dry lips brush your neck with a sloppy kiss caused you to relax, and you felt his length beginning to soften inside you. “Fuck, ____.” His whispers danced lightly across the sensitive skin behind your ear, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the proximity between you two at the moment. “Your pretty pussy was squeezing my dick so good I came faster than I expected.” Then, he snaked his arms around your waist, grabbing your hips, and flipping you two so you both lay on your backs with you cuddled up to his side snuggly. Though just as you were about to let the aftermath haziness of your release lull you into a deep sleep in Tomouras arms, he brushed some of your messy locks behind your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready for round 2.”

[britcision]

So it’s weird to come back a couple years after you leave a place and see how it’s changed, right?

In my first year of college, a group of friends and I were the first iteration of our college’s Makers Club. The tech teachers helped us get set up, taught us to apply for funding, got us a room for meetings

And, y’know, for most of the year what we in the club had access to was the room, a projector, and the xbox one of the members brought in for our weekly Smash Bros tournament

(Before the xbox came in the Makers Club did vitally important and scientific activities like taping a member to a chair with painter’s tape to see how easily he could break out)

And as we did the budget request, we all made jokes about stupid things we could buy, because we needed to have an itinerary of everything we wanted to submit with the budget, and the teachers advised us to ask at least double what we actually wanted

(So, 10’ diamond coated charger cables, better tape, a 3D printer to print a trophy for the winner of the tournament each week, etc.)

It was basically a lunch club, almost entirely of people from our software development classes, where we all hung out and dicked around

I graduated a couple years later, and the year after that snuck back to the Maker’s Club because we’d finally gotten a 3D printer the year I graduated and I wanted to get a sneaky print cuz we charged for the filament and not much else

And gang

I saw this club when we had A Room

We didn’t even claim it full time for two years there were still other classes in it

I saw it when we had one printer, when the coolest thing we could buy was a programmable robot kit for one of those cute lil guys you can program to move his cube around and we all had to share one

The goddamn budget request must have gone through as we all fucking left, because the next year they had not just the room permanently set aside, but the closet next door set up with TWO 3D printers and a laser cutter

I booped in and out over the next year too, mostly for curiosity (and to use the printers cuz the people now running the club were members when I’d been a founder and so long as none of us admitted I wasn’t paying tuition anymore it was fair game)

The last time I saw it, they had FOUR 3D printers, two laser cutters, three more craft machines I didn’t recognize, a working fume hood, and one guy had used club resources to build a working robot hand and was teaching it to pick locks

It was. It was amazing. It was a proper, actual piece of school infrastructure, providing benefits to the whole student body

And I was there when we just played Smash and helped each other with our homework

[seat-safety-switch]

Kids these days may not think it's "cool" to hang out at a municipal building at all hours. Bribery is way down nowadays, and so is journalism, so there's no supply nor demand for lurking in the parking garage all night just to catch a glimpse of a package stuffed with cash changing hands. Most of that stuff is fake internet money now, anyway, like flooz. Where do you even buy a manila envelope these days?

The thing is, political scandal hasn't gone away. Believe me, I'd like to think it is. Whenever I work for The Mayor Hisself, it's easy to overlook the large quantity of favours rendered to himself (and very infrequently, to me) in exchange for some small judgment or gentle steering. Surely his friends would have been just as generous with money, business partnerships, and fresh-off-the-lot Porsches if he did nothing at all for them? Of course they would. That's what makes them true friends and not seedy business associates that I'm around just in case one of them needs to be put back in line.

Now, you might think it's easy to monkey-wrench a homebuilder or someone who owns a used-car dealership. It is, but that's not the point. You have to be subtle about it: it doesn't make re-election look good if The Mayor's somewhat-esteemed childhood maybe-friend gets caught on camera using violence. No, you have to get creative about it. Deniable.

One of my favourite not-confessing-to-anything techniques is what I like to call the "smoke-out." You may remember some articles in the news recently about how Volkswagen got in trouble for making cars that produced too much exhaust. They were just running regular old passenger diesel fuel! The fumes off that stuff won't even make your eyes burn, not like high-test nitromethane being shot out the hood-exit exhaust of a half-fibreglassed Dodge Ramcharger doing donuts on your lawn. Sometimes I didn't even have to do a full spin: they'd be on the phone, tearfully apologizing to The Mayor, just because their wallpaper started to melt!

In my own day, they used to make corrupt business people tougher. A higher class of manufacture. That's why I think today's kids need to get involved. Build a new and even more dirtbaggy semi-organized semi-crime architecture, because these folks are just getting lazy with it.

[phantoms-lair]

You wanted Red Hood vs Overhaul, you got it

Eri clutched Deku tightly and he sped away, Overhaul right on their trail leaving a swath of destroyed objects and people in his wake. And as soon as he caught up to them, that was going to be Deku. He was going to die because he wanted to protect her.

Deku was wrong. She was a curse. She clutched his shoulders tighter, tears welling in her eyes. Her horn began to glow as her quirk subconsciously activated. Because of her Daddy disappeared, and then Overhaul used her to make his bullets to steal other people's powers. She'd caused nothing but pain and misery, she was the one who should disappear!

Her horn grew as her quirk tried to activate. But much like you can't uninstall a computer program that's running, Rewind couldn't erase itself or it's user while it was activated. Eri's despair tried to force it over and over again. Just as Overhaul's outstretched hand was about to brush Deku's back Rewind divided by zero and they all vanished.

~

It was the smell that hit Midoriya first. The air around him had been full of dust and the scent of blood. Suddenly there was none of that, but an almost nauseating amount of fumes and unwashed humanity. Also they were in free fall.

He quickly assessed. He wasn't in Tokyo anymore. The cars were on the wrong side of the road and the signs in English. But all that quickly was overshadowed by the horror that they were in a residential area.

He had to get Eri to safety while luring Overhaul away from the area. He did his best to get they lay of the land before he'd fallen enough for buildings to block his view. Looked like there was a harbor. Maybe if he could get him there, there'd be less people for him to destroy. And hopefully some local heroes would come to help.

Path set, Midoriya used Full Cowling to kick off a building and launch himself away.

~

"Anyone have eyes on what the Hell is happening?!" Hood demanded over the coms.

"Two metas, Boss. One Robin-aged, one adult. Robin-aged one has what looks to be a small child. He's fleeing from the adult and heading towards the harbor. Small child looks to be injured."

Hood adjusted the route his motorcycle was going in order to better intercept. "How badly injured?"

"Bandages on her arms and legs, but it's hard to get close enough to see more, sorry." His lieutenant sounded apologetic, but from the sounds of Hood could hear from back where he was he couldn't blame her. "Powers?" Might as well know what he was getting into.

"Robin-aged seems to have some green lightning around him, but he's not projecting it. It seems to give him either a strength or speed boost, hard to tell when all he's doing is running. Adult looks like he can destroy or remake anything his touches and - Gah."

"Did you get hit?"

"Negative, sorry for scaring you, sir, Adult caught a piece of his own shrapnel in his eye. He then touched his face with his hand and half of it exploded, then reformed. I wasn't expecting it."

Good to know. Especially because she might have just told him exactly how to take this guy down. "I'm going to intercept the kids. Deploy Code Beta Omega on my mark." Hood's helmet switched modes from camera to radar as he pulled his bike even with the fleeing kid (who was definitely getting a speed boost out of his power if nothing else) as his people set off numerous bright flares right in front of the adult meta's face, followed by wide area smoke bombs. "Need some help?"

"Are you a local hero?" The older kid asked in very heavily Japanese accented English.

"I'm the protector of this area." Thankfully Japanese was one of the languages he was fluent in, so he could speak to the kid in his own language. "Get on."

The boy hopped on, the smaller kid strapped to his back and Hood had to respect his sense of balance. The green lightning vanished as the kid took a breath.

"Can you get Eri to safety?" the boy asked. "I can buy some time with Overhaul. Lure him out to the water where fewer people will get hurt."

The way he said it, it sounded like the cost of that time would be his life. And the littler one, Eri, seemed to pick up on it. "You don't have to do that Deku." she said in a shaky voice. "He won't hurt you if I go back to him. And I'll be fine. He won't kill me, even when he accidently takes too much of my blood, he can just take me apart and put me back together again."

The words were brave but the fear and remembered pain in them was palpable and Hood saw green in a way that had nothing to do with Deku's hair, outfit or lightning. He sharply turned the motor cycle into an alley, where he knew a group of his people would be evacuating civilians. "Get them to the clinic. The girl needs help and the boy probably does too."

The boy looked panicked. "But Overhaul-"

"-is Done." Hood finished. "Overhaul is done."

For a moment the boy looked like he'd bluescreened, then "Overhaul is mysophobia, destroying his mask should get a panic reaction. Especially if you spit on him or something. He's arrogant, sadistic, and enjoys psychological manipulations. He also have some bullets that destroy quirks, so be very wary if he uses a gun over his hands."

"Quirks?" Everything in Hood's soul wanted to get going and destroy the man who'd hurt a child like this.

There was a split second of panic on the boys face as he tried to reword "Powers? His lets him disassemble and reassemble anything he touches in any configuration he chooses."

"Power destroying bullets? Hood laughed. "Kid, I don't think you know where you are. This is Gotham." And with that he left the kids in the hands of his crew and stalked back to where Overhaul was about to meet his end.

The smoke was beginning to clear as Hood strode to Overhaul's location. Deku had given him what information he could, and he appreciated it, really he did. Any other Bat or Bat-Adjacent would have made good use it, especially the mysophobia.

Hood was not going to. He'd already gotten all intel he needed earlier. He took a good look at the man. Huh, when Deku said he had a mask Hood was expecting a standard supervillain mask, not a honest to goodness plague doctor one. He's sure the doctors at Arkham would have a fun time pulling apart this whackjob's psyche.

Not that he was going to give them a chance. Not after hearing a little girl talk about repeatedly being ripped apart and pulled back together.

"Where did they go?" asked Overhaul, in a tone that suggested he was in charge and giving up the intel was the only way Hood would live through the next few minutes.

Cute.

"Doesn't matter. You're never going to see either one ever again." Hood smirked under his helmet. "In fact, enjoy your view of the ass-end of Gotham. It's the last thing you're ever going to see."

Overhaul sneered. "Eri will be so upset. Another person dead because of her. She really is a curse."

The green was overwhelming. The only thing keeping Hood in control was the knowledge that he was going to give the Pit exactly what it wanted.

Overhaul touched the ground and it exploded, rearranging itself as large spikes erupted from the ground. Most people would have been impaled. Most people weren't trained by the Bat, the League of Assassins, and the All-Caste. "You heroes are so annoying. Like any one of you would be able to properly use an asset like her."

"SHE IS A CHILD." Hood roared. One of the spikes nicked him, but only caused surface damage, naturally. It would have been embarrassing to do more than was entirely when one gets hit on purpose. He needed two things. Overhaul provided the presence of absolute evil, and he provided his own blood. With two flashes the All Blades appeared and two hands fell to the ground.

Overhaul stared for a moment. He'd lost arms before and it was easy enough to replace one using the other, but he'd never lost both at once. His mind raced, trying to come up with a solution, and his knees began to buckle.

He never hit the ground however, as Hood caught him by the throat with one hand. With the other he ripped off the mask before pushing Overhauls face into some street sludge. This being Gotham and Crime Alley in particular, who knows what it might have been. Guess he was going to use the kid's info on mysophobia after all.

"It's tempting, you know, to keep you alive just long enough to watch infection set it. But people like you do tend to find a way of rebounding and I'm not going to risk it. I do want to catch up with those kids and make sure they're okay, so I'll give myself...ten minutes? Yeah, ten minutes sounds good. Ten minutes to show you exactly what happens to people who hurt kids in my territory. Ten minutes to make you beg for death, then - like the kind soul I am- answer your prayers."

Overhauls eyes were wide with terror. "But...but you're a hero?"

Hood grinned cruelly under his helmet. "I haven't called myself one of those for a long time. And Babs," he said, seeming to address no one. "I don't want Daddy Bats or any of his crew interfering."

For the next ten minutes, he was going to enjoy himself.

[virtuouswhitehatorganization]

Coyote Finally Ages Out

(Continuation from "Coyote's Backstory As A Foster Kid")

[Brian Z. Romero/Coyote was in his room getting prepared to move out after he turned finally turned eighteen. He was packing his clothes into his suitcase as the cruel words of the director still stung in his head as they got into probably the last verbal match they would ever have. Even when with his plans to get into vocational college, the man didn't believe he could make anything out of himself.]

(flashback to director's office)

Director (cruelly mocks at a visibly angry Coyote/Brian) : You are a worthless hood rat. You were born a hood rat, you'll die a hood rat, and you will be lucky anybody will mourn you!

(flashback ends)

[He slammed his suitcase shut in anger as he really wished he could let the bastard have it, but since he was an adult now that meant big boy prison and not just juvie as sometimes people said he would end up in.]

Coyote/Brian (fumes): I'm not worthless, and I won't die alone.

[He continued going around his room picking things up to put in his boxes from metal band posters to books on Rutherford Springs/Atom City's history. All the while picking up a movie he's had ever since he was a kid that almost remind him of his situation and melancholy reminisced on it.]

Coyote/Brian:

Riffraff,

hood rat

I don't buy that.

If only they'd look closer

Would they see a poor boy?

No siree

They'd find out

There's so much more to me

[He sighed to take a short break as he looked down at the vocational school pamphlet he had on his desk and saw it as his only hope in life to better himself and to prove to everyone that he wasn't destined for failure.]

Brian/Coyote (tries to be optimistic) : Someday, things are gonna change. I will be successful, live in a nice home, and never have any problems at all.

[adiduck]

for the NaNo Challenge 👀👀👀

trope: university au

first line: "Did you do the homework?"

You got it, Jag!

"Did you do the homework," Pete asks, sliding into his seat next to Ice. "Because I think we gotta change up the order for the solution practical."

Tom grimaces. The solution practical was the only thing their grade in this class was based on. At the beginning of the course they were paired off and each given a solution, with orders to separate out every single ingredient by the end of the course. Over the semester, they were told, they would be given the tools to do this. Reading ahead was encouraged, and so was initiative. Explosions would get them half marks on all ingredients discovered so far, and no more solution to play with.

They'd already had one explosion. Tom's only consolation was they weren't the only ones.

"I didn't see anything that would react poorly."

Pete raises his eyebrow, opens his pad, and drops it down on Ice's laptop. "No explosions or fires," he says, "but apparently the reaction we were thinking of releases chlorine, and Nick and Ron have the fume hood tomorrow."

Ice pauses, squinting at the notes.

"If we don't do this one tomorrow we'll be behind schedule for the next three, and we will explode something if we switch those around."

"Well, we could do it without the fume hood--"

"No," Tom says.

"We can do it outside," Pete suggests.

"No."

"It's as ventilated as you can get--"

"I am not," Tom says, "taking potentially volatile chemicals out of the classroom just because someone else is using the fume hood."

Pete throws up his hands. "Well, I dunno what to tell you! It's either we're behind or we cause another explosion."

Tom looks over at Ron, who's leaning back in his chair, long legs propped on the chair in front of him and striking out once again with Penny across the aisle from him.

Tom considers his options.

"I'll handle it," he decides.

Pete raises his eyebrows. "You're gonna get us the fume hood?"

"Yes," Tom says.

Pete looks at him dubiously. "How?"

Tom grins. "Ron'll be busy tomorrow," he says.

Pete glances over at Ron and Penny.

Then he snorts, green eyes dancing. "Tom," he says. "If you can put us all out of our misery with that, I will buy you a beer."

[alexagirlie]

September Song Challenge

Day 19: A song to drive to

Acadia by Marianas Trench Fandom: The Last Kingdom Rating: E Finan/Osferth/Sihtric/Uhtred warnings/tags: modern au. road trip. sex. semi public sex. camping

Uhtred 

They planned to meet at Uhtred's family home but Sihtric and Osferth were running late. Sihtric was picking Osferth up on his motorbike, to be left at the Ragnarssons during their weekend trip, and the young dane was always running late. Expecting they would need to wait, Uhtred and Finan decided to hide out in Uhtred's old bedroom. 

It was down in the basement and had its own entrance and so was completely separate from the rest of the house. A fact Uhtred had taken advantage of plenty of times in his youth to sneak one, or more, of his boys over and a fact he takes advantage of now. Uhtred hated waiting, he got bored too quickly and Finan looked so delicious in his tight jeans and plaid button up shirt, the seams fit to bursting around his biceps. 

Uhtred figured they had enough time for a little fun and grabbed Finan's hand to drag him over to the bed where he promptly pushed the older man onto his back amongst the dusty sheets and climbed up on top of him and straddled his hips. He didn't let Finan utter a word before he slotted their mouth together and slipped his tongue into the Irishman's open mouth.

He rocked down against the rapidly hardening cock underneath of him and relished in the groan it pulled from Finan's throat. So he did it again, and again until they were grinding against each other in earnest. Uhtred pressed his face against Finan's neck, biting down as he came in his pants like a teenager. Finan's echoing groan and how tight he pulled Uhtred down against his bucking hips told Uhtred the other man had followed.

They had just finished tidying themselves up when the other two arrived and Uhtred couldn't help but laugh loudly at the knowing looks on Osferth's and Sihtric faces at their disheveled state.

Finan

Of course Uhtred forgot to gas up his jeep before the trip and they were almost running on fumes and had to make a stop at the gas station. Which just so happened to be beside their old highschool. School was out for the summer and the fields were empty so while Uhtred was distracted filling the car and Osferth was occupied inside the little store buying snacks Finan grabbed Sihtric by the belt loop and dragged him across the street and onto the sports field. 

Sihtric must be able to read Finan's mind as he laughed and pushed Finan to go even faster until they were hidden behind the bleachers which lined the field. They were barely out of sight of the road or anyone walking by before Sihtric was dropping to his knee's in the dirt and hurriedly unbuckling Finan's belt and pulling the zipper on his jeans down.

Finan helped him ease the waistband of his jeans and his briefs down just enough for his half hard cock to be accessible and then he braced himself for the ride. 

Sihtric didn't waste anytime and Finan gasped loudly as his cock was swallowed down to the hilt in the other mans hot mouth, his throat tight around the head of his cock and so very wet. Sihtric had years of practice sucking Finan off so he was only the slightest bit embarrassed that it only took a matter of minutes before he was spilling down the younger mans throat with a groan.

He can hear the wet, slick sound of flesh on flesh, then Sihtric moaned and shuddered as his cum splattered the dirt between Finan's feet.

He helped the younger man to his feet and they got themselves back in order before heading back to the car. Enough time had passed that Uhtred and Osferth were waiting. Osferth was already back in his seat while Uhtred was leaning against the hood, sunglasses pushed up on his head and holding his hair back, a smirk firmly in place as they reappeared. 

It took very little teasing for the truth to come out and Uhtred laughed, thinking it was brilliant while Osferth blushed and was horribly embarrassed to learn the two used to do this while back still attending the school, before Uhtred and Osferth had joined the relationship.

Sihtric

They drove out of town and headed to a secret spot near the river they used to spend summer days at, and as many weekends camping as they could get away with. It was a little oasis where they could all be together and not worry about who could see them. Sihtric always loved going to the river and had lots of great memories there.

They had the radio turned up as loud as it could go and Finan and Sihtric were singing along just as loud and offkey from the back seat. They only stopped after the car turned down the hidden logging road leading to their spot and they parked the car. 

They gathered up their supplies and Sihtric grabbed one handle of the heavy cooler loaded with their food and drinks, Finan on the other end and they began their long trek to their spot. It was a solid 20 minutes and by the time they reached the river they had all worked up a sweat. Sihtric could feel his shirt sticking to the small of his back and he was ready for a swim.

As soon as the cooler was stored in a shady spot Sihtric was pulling his damp shirt over his head, shucked his shorts, briefs and sandals and waded out into the cold water. He ignored Finans grumbling about lazy danes and walked into the river until it reached his waist. He turned and grinned at the other three men on the shore and tried to get them to join him for a refreshing dip.

Only Uhtred joined him, the heathens that they are, while Osferth and Finan jokingly yelled insults at them as they set up the camp. The two danes end up laughing and rough housing in the water, throwing each other around and Sihtric trying to dunk Uhtred under the clear water. 

They end up wrestling on a sandbank in the middle of the stream, Sihtric trying not to enjoy the wet glide of Uhtred's naked body against his own, to no avail. His hard cock such a distraction that he found himself pinned to the sand, his arms pressed above his head and Uhtred a vision between his legs.

Sihtric let out a gasp as a chilled, calloused hand wrapped around his cock and began to jerk him off slow and firm. He moaned loudly, the sound echoing across the water and catching the attention of the other two.

Knowing they were watching made Sihtric even harder and he could hear them catcalling and yelling out encouragement. Osferth in particular was being very vocal and putting his surprisingly dirty mouth to use. Telling Uhtred to make their greedy little slut cum, calling Sihtric their good boy when he listens and spills over Uhtred's hand and his own stomach.

Osferth

Osferth and Finan finish setting up the camp site, with no help from the two danes. They had made for an enticing view when their frolicking had taken a heated turn and Osferth was still flushed thinking about how Sihtric had sounded as Uhtred made him cum. 

He collapsed back into a chair and accepted the cold can of cider Finan handed him before sitting in the chair at his side. Uhtred and Sihtric joined them shortly, damp and flushed pink from their adventure in the water and the four men sit around the happily crackling fire getting drunk off their asses and reminiscing about their youth. 

How Sihtric's old building had been torn down the year before and a new condo complex was being built in its place. How they had totaled Finan's car trying to teach Osferth to drive, it had ended up in a ditch.

As night fell their reminiscing took on a decidedly sexual turn and Osferth found himself with a lapful of enthusiastic Dane as he and Sihtric kissed deeply. The other man had a wicked tongue and Osferth moaned as it twisted with his, licking into his mouth and stealing the breath from his lung.

They only separated when Osferth threw his head back and groaned when the other man ground down in his lap, hips rolling together and the friction made his cock weep in his shorts. He gasped as sharp teeth nipped at his throat and worked a dark mark into the skin.

He whined in disappointment when Sihtric was pulled from his lap right before he could cum and shoved towards the roomy tent they would be sharing by a grinning Finan. Before Osferth could voice further protest Uhtred pulled him bodily from the chair and lifted the slighter man into his arms bridal style and carried him to the tent and all but tossed him in. His face burned as he shot Uhtred a glare over his shoulder.

He yelped as two sets of hands reached out and yanked him the rest of the way into the tent and worked to systematically divest him of his clothes and pushed him down on his back in the mess of blankets and pillows which made up their bed for the weekend.

What followed was a wave of sweat slicked skin, the press of lips, teeth and tongues as the other men worked to make up for his spoiled orgasm. Osferth had a bit of catching up to do being the only one who hadn't cum yet that day.

The first one was fast, he was already so worked up that as soon as Sihtric got his mouth around the head of Osferth's cock he was shooting down the other man's throat with a drawn out groan. His whole body shook and trembled as pleasure raced down his spine.

His second was while Finan had his face buried between Osferth's thigh, tongue and fingers pressed inside him and opening him up to get fucked. Osferth moaned into Uhtred's mouth as he spilled hot and sticky over his stomach and chest.

His third and final orgasm came unexpectedly as he was on elbows and knees in the bed with Uhtred fucking him. Finan and Sihtric had occupied themselves with each other and Osferth was enjoying the show as Uhtred made his toes curl with each hard thrust he made into Osferth's wet hole. 

He was mostly along for the ride after two orgasms but Uhtred had other ideas and encouraged Osferth to arch his back and spread his knees and suddenly he was pounding into Osferth's prostate. Each thrust pushed a desperate sound out of the younger man's throat and then a warm hand wrapped around his cock and he was seeing stars as he came again.

Uhtred thrust two, three more times then he clutched Osferth's arse tight to his hips with bruising fingers as he shuddered and filled him with his cum. He groaned loud and piercing.

They collapsed in a pile of limbs and didn't move again until they both had their breath and the other two men joined them in cleaning up and crawling under the blankets to sleep.

taglist: @gatoenlaciudad @softhecreator @almostg

[rebathroom]

Choosing the Perfect Kitchen Appliances for Your Home

Selecting the right kitchen appliances is essential for creating a functional, efficient, and aesthetically pleasing kitchen. With countless options available, it's important to consider your cooking habits and space requirements. This guide will help you navigate your choices and ensure you select appliances that meet your needs and lifestyle. Whether you're designing a new kitchen or upgrading existing ones, we’ll explore the key factors to consider when choosing the perfect appliances for your home.

What Should You Consider Before Buying a Built-in Oven?

An oven built-in is a fantastic option for a seamless kitchen look. Before purchasing one, consider the size of your family and your cooking habits. A larger oven might be ideal if you bake frequently or host gatherings often. Think about the placement—do you prefer the oven at eye level or below the countertop? Moreover, ensure the oven has multiple cooking functions to accommodate your needs, such as convection cooking for even heat distribution.

Energy efficiency is another crucial factor. Look for models with high energy ratings to save on electricity. You’ll also want to ensure the oven fits into the allocated cabinet space. Lastly, pay attention to maintenance—easy-to-clean interiors and self-cleaning options will save you time and effort.

Why is a Built-in Cooker a Smart Investment?

A built-in cooker combines the benefits of both a stove and oven, making it a practical solution for those who need versatility in their kitchen. It seamlessly integrates into the kitchen layout, saving counter space and enhancing the overall design. When selecting a built-in cooker, consider how many burners you need. Some models offer up to six burners, which can benefit families that cook large meals regularly.

The material of the cooktop is also essential. Induction and ceramic glass cooktops are modern and easy to clean, while gas burners provide precise temperature control. Safety features, like flame failure protection and child locks, should also be on your checklist, especially if you have young children at home.

How Do Microwave Ovens Enhance Kitchen Convenience?

A microwave oven is no longer just for reheating leftovers; today’s models come with advanced features, including grilling and baking. Microwaves are ideal for busy households, offering quick solutions for cooking meals and defrosting ingredients. When choosing a microwave oven, consider the size and capacity. Compact models are perfect for smaller kitchens, while larger units can accommodate family-sized meals.

Many modern microwave ovens come with sensor cooking technology, which adjusts time and temperature based on the type of food being prepared. This feature ensures optimal results without requiring constant monitoring. You may also want to opt for a built-in model to save space on your countertop while giving your kitchen a sleek, modern look.

What Role Do Built-in Hoods Play in Kitchen Ventilation?

built in hoods are essential for keeping your kitchen fresh and odor-free. They extract smoke, grease, and fumes, ensuring a clean environment while you cook. A well-functioning hood also prevents the buildup of grease on surfaces, making maintenance easier. When choosing a built-in hood, consider the suction power; higher suction rates are recommended for kitchens with heavy cooking, particularly those that involve frying and grilling.

Noise levels are another aspect to look at, as some hoods can be quite loud. Opt for models with lower decibel ratings to maintain a peaceful kitchen environment. Additionally, many built-in hoods come with LED lighting, which can brighten your cooking space and improve visibility. Look for designs that match your kitchen's style, ensuring both functionality and aesthetics are well balanced.

Choosing the right kitchen appliances requires a blend of functionality, aesthetics, and practicality. From the sleek integration of a built-in cooker to the convenience offered by a microwave oven, each appliance uniquely enhances your kitchen’s efficiency. A built-in oven provides flexibility for your cooking needs, while built-in hoods ensure the space stays clean and fresh. By carefully considering your needs and preferences, you can create a kitchen that looks great and serves as a perfect culinary hub for your home.

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The Best Guide to Buy Commercial Deep Fryer (Frityr)

In a fast-paced commercial kitchen, having the ideal equipment is vital for delivering quality dishes to the customers. One such equipment piece is a commercial deep fryer (Frityr).

Deep fryers are important for preparing fried food items rapidly and effectively, making them a must-have for any restaurant or food service establishment.

Investing in a quality commercial deep fryer (Frityr) is a prudent decision for any food service business or restaurant. It can assist to enhance productiveness and lessen food preparation time, leading to a better customer experience.

In this post, we will discover the commercial deep fryer types available in the market, their attributes, deep fryer recipes and what to consider before purchasing one. We will also provide some tips on how to maintain and clean the deep fryer to make sure it stays in top condition for years to come.

Commercial deep fryer types

Speaking of deep frying in the commercial kitchen (Storkjøkken), having the right type of deep fryer can make all the difference. There are various types of commercial deep fryers to select from, each with their own unique benefits and features. Check out some of the most common types:

Countertop deep fryers: Countertop deep fryers are the perfect option for you if you want something that isn’t too big and is easy to use. It is perfect for a business that doesn’t prepare a big number of fried dishes or that consistently creates only a small amount of product overall. It lessens the amount of space required and is easier to maintain over time. Mobile food vendors, concession stands, bars and small restaurants will benefit most from this product.

Ventless deep fryers: A ventless deep fryer is basically a countertop model with some main differences. The most notable difference is that it is enclosed, enabling fumes to be expelled through an internal venting system instead of being released into the surrounding air. The most vital benefits are that it doesn’t require an external ventilation hood and it keeps the oil quality at a higher level for a longer period of time. Food trucks, taverns, small restaurants and concession areas are the perfect settings for this product.

Commercial general causes for commercial deep fryer trouble shooting

Rancid or burnt oil: This may cause food to taste bad and might also be a safety risk. Changing the oil regularly and cleaning the fryer regularly can assist to prevent this problem.

Undercooking or overcooking: This may happen if the fryer temperature is not calibrated properly or if the cook time is not modified for the food size being cooked.

Buying a top quality deep fryer can be excellent additions to any commercial kitchen (Storkjøkken), no matter you are running a small café or a big restaurant. With right care and maintenance, a deep fryer can last for years and assist you to accomplish seamlessly delectable and crispy fried foods every time.

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Buying Carfentanil Online: Key Considerations for Safety and Legality

In recent years, there has been a growing interest in research chemicals, particularly in regions such as Canada and the UK. One of the more controversial substances in this category is Carfentanil—an extremely potent opioid. As access to research chemicals expands online, it's essential for individuals to be informed about the safety and legality of purchasing substances like Carfentanil. This article explores important considerations when Buy Carfentanil Online  and the factors to keep in mind regarding legality, especially in Canada and the UK.

Understanding Research Chemicals and Carfentanil

Research chemicals are synthetic compounds created for laboratory research purposes. They are often used in scientific studies to explore their chemical properties, effects, and potential medical applications. However, some research chemicals are misused, leading to severe health and safety risks. One such substance is Carfentanil, which is 100 times more potent than fentanyl and primarily used as an animal tranquilizer for large mammals.

Carfentanil is not approved for human use due to its extreme potency, which can be lethal even in small doses. Despite this, it has gained notoriety as a dangerous drug that can easily be misused, raising significant concerns when purchased online.

Key Considerations When Buying Carfentanil Online

1. Safety Precautions

The first consideration when buying Carfentanil online is safety. Because of its high potency, handling even a minuscule amount of Carfentanil can be hazardous. In some cases, exposure to small quantities through the skin or inhalation can result in an overdose.

If you are involved in research or scientific studies and require Carfentanil for legitimate purposes, ensure you follow these safety protocols:

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Avoid direct physical contact with Carfentanil to reduce the risk of accidental exposure.

Dispose of the substance according to your country's regulations for hazardous materials.

Additionally, ensure you purchase Carfentanil from reputable online sources like China Lab Chemicals, which specialize in providing research chemicals for legitimate scientific use.

2. Legality in Canada and the UK

The legality of buying Carfentanil varies by country, and it’s crucial to understand the legal landscape in your region.

Research Chemicals in Canada

In Canada, Carfentanil is classified as a controlled substance under the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act (CDSA). This means that possessing, distributing, or producing Carfentanil without proper authorization is illegal. Importing Carfentanil without a valid license can result in criminal charges.

When buying research chemicals in Canada, ensure that you are compliant with Canadian laws. Always verify the credentials of the seller and confirm that your purchase is for a legitimate research purpose.

Research Chemicals in the UK

In the UK, Carfentanil is also classified as a controlled substance under the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971. Similar to Canada, unauthorized possession or sale of Carfentanil is illegal. The UK government takes a strict stance on the distribution and use of research chemicals that have high potential for abuse, including Carfentanil.

If you are a researcher or lab technician in the UK looking to purchase research chemicals, always work with authorized suppliers who comply with local regulations. Ensure that the chemicals are used strictly for research and laboratory testing and are not diverted for illicit purposes.

Responsible Use of Research Chemicals

When dealing with research chemicals in the UK or research chemicals in Canada, it is essential to prioritize responsibility and legality. Whether you're working with Carfentanil or other substances, always ensure that your research adheres to safety protocols and legal requirements. Misuse of these chemicals can have life-threatening consequences and lead to serious legal repercussions.

For those looking to buy Carfentanil online, trusted sources like China Lab Chemicals provide access to legitimate research chemicals. However, always remember to exercise extreme caution and comply with all relevant laws and safety regulations.

Conclusion

Buying Carfentanil online for research purposes requires careful consideration of both safety and legality. The risks associated with handling Carfentanil are immense, and its legal status in regions like Canada and the UK adds further complications. To protect yourself and those around you, always source your research chemicals from reputable suppliers like Buy Diclazepam Online , follow safety protocols, and stay informed about the legal frameworks in your country.

Whether you're working in Canada, the UK, or any other part of the world, it’s essential to approach the purchase of Carfentanil with the seriousness it demands.

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“My friend Jim Ellison committed suicide last Thursday. He was thirty-two. His mom had called the police to check on him after not hearing from him for a few days. They found him on top of his moped, next to his car, a note at his side, dead from fumes.

Many knew Ellison as the lead singer and guitarist of the Chicago pop group Material Issue, and as the writer of the band’s hits and near-hits, “Diane,” “Valerie Loves Me,” “What Girls Want,” “Going Through Your Purse” and “The Very First Lie.” On stage, Jim had a trademark posture: He’d put his foot on the monitor and make ridiculous, almost obscene faces at the audience. His skinny arms held a Gretsch guitar and his skeletal frame would contort to match the poses of his many rock ’n’ roll heroes—Sweet, the Beatles, the Shoes, even Green.

Material Issue’s career—and thus Jim’s career, for he was the heart, soul and brains of the band—followed a well-worn pattern. The band put out an indie EP and single, got picked up by a major label, made some noise with their debut. Those were the good days, with MTV playing “Diane” and “Valerie,” and “Very First Lie” appearing in a Drew Barrymore movie. But Material Issue’s second album sold less than its first and its third less than its second, and The Ish was dropped by its label.

Plenty of people relished Material Issue’s fall from grace. With his refusal to pretend not to enjoy his success, Jim sometimes could be hard to take. He’d boast about his band’s accomplishments and bought a ‘67 Volvo, about which he’d hiss in his oft-imitated nasally giggle, “Looks just like the car in ‘Man from U.N.C.L.E.’” His collection of vintage guitars and custom-made leather jackets flew in the face of Chicago’s simpleton “work clothes = rock ’n’ roll authenticity” calculus. And he had horrible taste in company, hanging out almost exclusively with assholes and selecting girlfriends who were uniformly moronic.

That’s the side of Ellison that everybody saw, the side that worked the door at Batteries, booked Gaspar’s, drank at Cubby Bear, slummed at Phyllis’. The seedy scenester with the goofy bravado, the would-be impresario who, it was joked, had already written a thousand follow-ups to “The Very First Lie.” That’s half of who he was, and to deny it is to cheat him of what he probably would have called his better half.

But it’s only half. The other half was the kid who grew up in Addison, Illinois, the ultimate nowheresville suburb, and dared to dream his way out.

Jim was the most generous guy I know. When we’d work on cars together he’d beg me to let him pitch in to buy me something better than my rustbucket. When I did get a new car, he taught me to drive a stick. At the peak of his fame, he wasn’t above getting under the hood, and he was an accomplished enough mechanic to attain that profession’s ultimate skill: smoking while working on the engine.

Those were good times, working on our cars at his Addison homestead, where he still lived with his parents and addressed his mom and sister with a tenderness one never would expect from the doorman at Exit. I’d give him a hard time about living at home, but he was proud of the fact that he was getting a college degree and building his guitar collection.

Jim chose the name of my band The Lilacs and produced our first record. He negotiated a great rate for us, then drove us out to Zion and recorded over old Ish demos to save money on tape. He played a little guitar and sang one harmony part and forever after took full credit for the record’s small success.

One time, we were adjusting the clutch cable on my Datsun and took a break to go to Taco Bell. Counting his change as we pulled away from the drive-through, Ellison exclaimed, “Hey, that lady Jewed me.” Mortified as he realized what he’d said and who he’d said it to, Jim apologized over and over, until it was embarrassing for both of us.

Material Issue’s rise to late-night TV appearances and buzz-bin videos wasn’t as easy as the guys tried to make it appear. Ellison crafted the band’s career in shrewd detail. After chewing up a dozen rhythm sections, Ellison found the perfect combo in Ted Ansani and Mike Zelenko, who shared in the Ish’s International Pop Overthrow for a decade. In January 1988, he set up a Green/Ish tour of dive Midwestern bars. Fourteen nights, Ellison and company played the exact same songs in the exact same order while Green—the band I was playing in—dipped into its dozens-strong collection and carefully crafted a new set list each night. By the end of the tour, Green still played shitty and The Ish sounded better than ever. Outside the Gallery in Normal, Jim fell down a set of icy stairs, his HiWatt amp tumbling on top of him. We ran out to check on him, and his reply rings in my ear now that I’ll never hear his giggle again. Brushing off his skintight pants, he smiled and said, “Thin as a rail, tough as a nail.”

Something I learned from Ellison is the magic of unfounded confidence. Ellison believed he was a star long before he actually was. Pretty soon, people started to accept his impression of himself and by the time he was a little bit of a star, he already knew how to act. This was a well-planned attitude, something he’d thought up and worked on. Years later, at the peak of his career, we went to the Cubby Bear to see a Beatles soundalike band. Between sets we were saying that they were pretty good for that sort of thing. Then the John stand-in emerged from the bathroom and Ellison said, “That’s why they’ll never be big. Rock ’n’ rollers don’t want to believe that their heroes take a piss in the same place as their fans.”

Ellison once brought one of our heroes, master bubblegummer Mike Chapman, to see my band, the Lilacs. Drunk and nervous, I tried to lead a reluctant and decidedly non-jamming band in a version of “Blockbuster.” Everyone hated it, including Chapman. Ellison loved it. “Dude, let me do the falsetto,” came the hilarious hiss.

With even Rolling Stone finally acknowledging that, duh, drugs are a serious problem within the rock world, everyone will probably wonder if they played a role in this tragedy. They didn’t. Material Issue’s bassist was so famous for growing copious amounts of marijuana that “Tedweed” became the generic for bad pot. On one tour my band did with Ellison’s, most members of both acts inhaled with near hourly frequency—but Jim didn’t take a single puff. And though he drank like anyone else, I can’t remember ever seeing him really drunk.

All of God’s creatures come equipped with a life-preserving instinct. You can’t drown yourself or fight the reflex that pulls your hand from a flame. The inner pain that allows someone to overcome that instinct is unimaginable to those who don’t feel it. And it’s come as a surprise to many that Ellison, a relentless cheerleader and jovial companion, was experiencing the kind of torment usually associated with brooders and crybabies.

I’m haunted by the notion that the hard times Material Issue has fallen on recently may have played a role in this. I know that no one, not even a born rock star like Jim, cares enough about pop music to end his life because of it. There’s a lot more to it than that. But Jim’s life consisted of simple pleasures, a world of good guys and pretty girls. His best lyrics—“I don’t need a girlfriend, I need an accomplice,” “I want love, I want drugs, I want sex and affection,” “Maybe just once pretend to be somebody’s better half”—share a worldview that reduces life to those things that really are nice and sweet and good. The tragedy is that those things are sometimes not enough.”

— obituary for Jim Ellison written by Ken Kurson, Published on June 27, 1996