#custom l bolts

[shegatsby]

Ngl I've been thinking about this for awhile, imagine Hannibal Lecter with a Burlesque dancer like in the movie from 2010 with Cher and Christina Aguilera, reader as Ali/Christina would be really cool

A/N; Hi! Thank you for this request, i love that movie so much i sometimes listen to its songs. I had fun writing this. Happy Ramadan!

Words; 1.413K

Warnings; None.

‘’Hey! Y/N!’’ you heard a voice from the director of the show, ‘’It’s your turn now!’’ you looked at your reflection on the mirror for the last time, hair done, nails done, a nice lingerie that had rime stones on it… you were young and sexy and that was enough for your confidence. You’re good at climbing into a huge champagne glass which is filled with water and soup and big sponges and do your number. Years ago when you were a child you grew up watching burlesque dancer and the numbers they did on stage and climbing into a tall glass always entertained you, it was a classic. You were the only one who could do it right in your group, the stage was set, you had two dancers either side of the glass, dancing to the rhythm. When you walked to the stage the spot light found you and your audience started screaming for you, getting good reviews was a part of your every night. You loved the attention, slowly getting rid of your gloves you noticed someone. You knew your regular customers and this man was on the same spot, which was the VIP section, alone, drinking his champagne and admiring you from afar. He never flinched ever and you could tell that he liked dressing up and keeping everything pristine. Most of your regulars loved to send you gifts, mostly flowers, perfumes etc. However, this one never sent you anything, you started to get curious about him and asked your crew, they only knew that he was a psychiatrist and that’s it.

You moved on the stage like delicate swan, so elegant and all of the eyes were on you. As you danced to the rhythm and slowly undressed you felt his burning gaze, you knew that after the show you were going to get lots of presents except from him.

He never made a move. Most of the regular spectators loved to send you drinks and presents after the show but this particular gentleman only occupied his seat at the VIP section every week, drank his champagne, ate his luxurious dish and watched you from afar. ,

Human mind is tricky, the brain loves to focus on that one person who doesn’t have his focus on us.

Nonetheless you were intrigued by him.

Thanks to the help of the dancers on the stage you climbed into the champagne glass, your rime stoned lingerie shining under the spot light. The water was cold just how you liked it. Moving around in the glass, splashing water has always made your audience smile and left them satisfied. Maybe because of the fact that your lingerie was soaked and your damp body shimmered under the lights…

When you were done you were escorted back, it felt so cold so you wore your pink robe, people you work with congratulated you, and you kindly smiled. Before you could open your dressing room’s door and throw yourself on your pink fluffy couch your boss, an old lady with long silver hair and kind blue eyes stopped you, ‘’A gentleman is inside, he has an offer for you.’’ You were puzzled. ‘’Thank you for the heads up.’’ Before you walked in you checked your hair and make-up, and then you walked in.

He was sitting on the pink couch, when you entered and as soon as he saw you he bolted to his feat. ‘’Miss Y/L/N.’’ he addressed you and you smiled. He had a dark grey 3 piece suit which fit him perfectly, he looked odd in this room of pink. He extended his large hand and continued, ‘’It is a pleasure finally meeting you in person.’’ You held his hand and you felt a sudden rush to your  stomach. Why did he have such an impact on you? You noticed the way he emphasized the word ‘’finally’’ he was also aware of you noticing him for weeks. ‘’Please.’’ You gestured him to sit back, you sat across him. The sudden realization hit you, you had your soaking wet lingerie underneath your pink robe. His face didn’t give any clues whatsoever. ‘’Allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter.’’ You nodded gently, legs crossed. Melodies from the stage floating into the room, in that brief silence you wondered why did your boss allow him inside? It usually never happens.

He must have persuaded the old lady with something… most likely money.

‘’Y/N Y/L/N. At your service.’’ You replied with a soldier tone to break the ice and caught him smirking a bit. His maroon eyes looked into your eyes directly, you felt shiver running down your spine, he was intense. His gaze found the pile of presents resting on the table at the corner of the room, was that annoyance written on his sharp face?

‘’May I ask the reason why you are here Doctor Lecter?’’ you attracted his gaze again, you could feel your palms getting sweaty, his presence made you nervous and you didn’t even know this person.

‘’I would love to hire your service for one of my dinner parties.’’ He bluntly said, he seemed like a guys who would go and get something, a true dominant man. Also the way he used ‘’your service’’ didn’t go unnoticed, he was respectful. His hand went inside his jacket’s pocket to pull out a check book, he wrote something and ripped the page, you were excited when he handed it to you.

When you saw the price you were shocked.

‘’But this is too much-‘’ you said with wide eyes, holding the check as if it is something fragile, ‘’Burlesque is an art and I’m never shy spending money on art.’’ He replied, you could sense the strong undertones. ‘’When is the party?’’

You accepted his offer, this was the first time you went to do a number to someone’s home. He mentioned that his home was enough to bring your essentials. For a week you practiced and practiced. You felt like you needed to make him proud, even though he paid you and this was your job you just wanted to be perfect at it and have a good time.

He didn’t lie, his home was like a castle, more than enough for your show. You were ready and also small group of your dancers were ready too, everything was set.

Dancing so close to the audience didn’t make you nervous at all, you felt alive, the music felt like it was running through your veins, you were one with it. You could feel the public’s eyes were on you in an awe of your art, the energy was immaculate. You could also see the host of the party, Doctor Lecter, holding his drink in one hand, the other in his pocket, his maroon gaze focused on you and only you. Almost predatory.

The champagne glass act made the audience sigh in excitement, it seemed like this was the first time they experience this and it feed your soul.

After the show you went upstairs to change because Doctor Lecter wanted to introduce you to his guests. You were touching on your make up when someone knocked on your door.

‘’Come in.’’

It was Lecter himself. ‘’You are a vision.’’ He said leaning on the door, you smiled. ‘’I have a gift for you.’’ He walked towards you, ‘’You didn’t have to Doctor Lecter.’’ You said when he opened the velvet box he was holding, a golden necklace was in that box, 24 karat you assumed. ‘’Please,’’ he said, ‘’Hannibal.’’

‘’Hannibal you already paid more than the actual price and this…’’ you were blushing, ‘’I’ve wanted to give you this for so long,’’ he confessed, ‘’but I was waiting for the right time.’’ You watched him place the necklace on you through the mirror, both of his hands found their place on your shoulders, he knelt and he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, he turned to the mirror to see your face and lock eyes.

‘’Looks good on you.’’ He said, you touched the necklace, ‘’Thank you, you are so generous.’’ His aura was heavy, his manly cologne filled your nostrils. You were intoxicated, it was wrong, he was your employer. ‘’I hope we will be more close from this night on.’’

You could feel your heart racing, was this a some kind of proposal? Only time would tell. Hand in hand you left the room to mingle.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

What Happens In New York... The Remix

In which Aaron & Sean’s bff meeting for the first time gets ✨reimagined✨ (essentially an AU with a different meet cute)

“Yo, Hotch!” The blonde popped his head around the corner to peek into the break room where you were perched on a stool and hunched over the table, tongue peeking out between your lips while you concentrated on the project laid out before you. “Come take a look at this.” You flipped your design around with a flourish and a quiet, “Ta da!,” revealing the name of the bar where you worked, The Edinburgh, in sprawling cursive writing with a shamrock dotting the “i”.

“Kid.” Sean clicked his teeth with a shake of his head before declaring, “Your talents are wasted here. This looks amazing!”

“We’re not that old,” you laughed. “Art school is still in the cards for me, don’t you worry your pretty head.”

“She thinks I’m pretty,” he cooed to no one in particular, then chucked your chin affectionately while you fought to grab a hold of his wrist before biting down on his hand.

“And you taste good, too,” you hummed. “Spill some Jameson on yourself?”

“Shut up and go man the bar, Y/L/N.” You shied away from Sean’s pinching fingers, then slung a towel over your shoulder and followed the din of patrons in the bar to your section. It was a relatively slow Wednesday night for a New York summer, but you weren’t bothered by the unhurried pace. In between serving craft beers and specialty mixed drinks, you busied yourself polishing the wood paneling along the cabinetry and ensuring all bottle labels were facing outward for ease of customer selection. With that task completed, you resigned yourself to peeling a lemon into artful shapes while you waited for another patron to approach your end of the bar.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A honeyed voice carried confidently over the steady drone of bar chats, and you looked up with a smile. Everything about the man before you screamed professional, from the dark locks swept off his forehead to his sharp suit and tie to the placement of his clasped hands on the bar with a thick silver watch adorning his left wrist. There was a certain stoicism about him that was undeniably intriguing, and you could sense a sadness behind the warmth in his chocolate brown eyes. A shot of adrenaline coursed through you as you held his gaze, and you wanted nothing more than for him to open up to you.

“He loves me not,” you joked, tossing the lemon rind that you were forming into a rose aside. Leaning on your elbows on the bar top, you tilted your head back and forth while studying him. “Scotch on the rocks?”

He breathed out a laugh and conceded, “I wasn’t planning on it, but that actually sounds great.”

“Got it in one,” you sang playfully, back turned while you poured the beverage. You could feel his intense gaze roving over your form, and you suppressed the shiver threatening to run down your spine. You placed a napkin down before him with a flourish, then presented his drink. “Now, how about a penny for your thoughts?”

He clicked his teeth and shook his head in a suspiciously familiar way before asserting, “Nobody wants to take a peek in here,” with a tap to his temple.

“I do,” you answered genuinely. “That’s why I love this job. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind, judgment free.” As you swept a stray ice cube off the bar, you tacked on, “Unless you tell me you’re a serial killer, of course. Then I think I’m obligated to report you, at least in most states.”

He leaned in conspiratorially and you met him halfway. “You’re a little too good at this,” he confided in a whisper.

You let out a mock gasp and questioned in an equally hushed tone, “So you are a serial killer?”

He shook his head with a small smile. “I hunt them.” The simple statement accompanied by the flash of defiance in his eyes sent a bolt of heat through your body that you didn’t care to unpack at this time. Instead, you directed the conversation back to him.

“Detective?”

“Agent.”

That sense of familiarity from earlier hit you like a ton of bricks. “Don’t tell me you’re big brother Hotchner.”

He laughed at the incredulous lilt to your statement and admitted, “Guilty as charged. So you know Sean, then?”

“More intimately than I care to admit on days that end in ‘y’,” you huffed through a smile.

“Girlfriend?”

“Best friend,” you corrected him pointedly, then carried on, “Roommate. Therapist. Personal chef. The list of my many talents goes on.” You offered him your hand to shake and formally introduced yourself, receiving a polite, “Aaron,” in response with a smile that stole the very breath from your lungs. His palm was surprisingly soft in opposition to his firm grip, and you reluctantly retracted your hand after a prolonged moment. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” he answered seriously after a mouthful of scotch. “Brother-brother’s best friend slash roommate slash therapist slash other miscellaneous job title confidentiality is sacred.” You snorted out a laugh and immediately slapped a hand over your mouth at the ridiculous sound, covering it up with a poorly faked cough. Aaron, for his part, was kind enough to studiously avoid eye contact with you while he smiled down at the bar. “So that secret?” he prodded gently.

“You’re not nearly as boring as Sean makes you out to be.”

Aaron threw his head back in a laugh that warmed you from the inside out, and you committed the ebullient sound to memory, determined to hear it again.

A pinch at your side had you squealing out an indignant, “Hotch!” You noticed Aaron’s eyebrows raising at the nickname before you directed your attention (and a swatting of your towel) to the younger Hotchner brother, then pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek.

“I see you two have met,” Sean noted in a carefully measured tone, his hand resting possessively on your hip.

“We have,” Aaron answered just as evenly, raising his glass to his lips again as the temperature in the bar dropped several degrees.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Aaron? Got a case in town, or did you just want to remind me I’m still not living up to the Hotchner name?” The genuine nature of your best friend’s question was poorly masked by his usual sarcastic cadence.

The brunette’s visage pulled into a frown for the first time since he entered the bar, and you immediately missed his easygoing smile. “He came to see me, dummy,” you asserted with an elbow to Sean’s side, breaking the tension as the brothers released a collective breath. “And blondie, we’re gonna have to work on your descriptive skills. You did not do your big brother justice.”

“And that,” you declare in the present, swiping an experimental coat of plum-colored nail polish over your daughter’s thumbnail before shaking your head with a frown and grabbing the remover, “is how your badass mom singlehandedly saved the integrity of the Hotchner family. The power of humor!”

“Sounds like the power of flirting,” your mini-me counters with a wicked grin reminiscent of her beloved uncle while you hunt through the basket of mani/pedi essentials for a more suitable shade.

“Nah,” your husband further contests from his spot on the couch, head buried in a case file and reading glasses dangerously close to sliding off the bridge of his nose. “Your mom wasn’t a great flirt. She would just snort-laugh at my jokes until I figured out she liked me.”

“You mean this twerp inherited that from Mom?” Jack lovingly ruffles his little sister’s hair on his way back from the kitchen and she barks at him in response, unable to retaliate physically while you’re working on her hands. “You’re so fucking weird sometimes.”

“Watch your fucking language,” you admonish your seventeen-year-old. “Is this purple better?”

Aaron and your kids look up for precisely one second before answering in unison. “Too light.”

“Y’all are a pain in my ass,” you declare with a grumble, giving up on shuffling through the bottles of lacquer in favor of upturning the entire basket on the living room floor.

Your husband stands with a groan and comes over to press a kiss to your forehead, then your daughter’s, before placing Purple with a Purpose in your awaiting palm. “That’s what you get for singlehandedly saving the integrity of the Hotchner family.”

__________

[A/N: Y'all seemed to really enjoy What Happens In New York, so I thought exploring a different meeting would be fun :) I think we can all agree that CM did the Hotchner brothers dirty so I shall continue to live in my world where they amend their relationship as adults thank u very much]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[daily-kohane-azusawa]

Day 358! Had another vbs dream so story time!

TLDR: I unintentionally became VBS’s assistant during their stay in the US, and promised to help them win a competition that would help them afford the flight back home. (This one is looooong, buckle in)

The setting was this fine arts based summer school.

I started the day by oversleeping through my first classes, losing one of my sketch books on campus, and falling asleep in the class I did make it to (Ribbon-typical narcolepsy L).

While I was asleep in class they were going over this bracket style music competition and assigning students to interview each of the contestants.

I up being assigned to help VBS since no body else wanted to on the fact that the group didn’t speak much English and I couldn’t speak a lick of Japanese so…

Luka to the rescue!! Street Sekai Luka basically acted as my translator so we could get the interview done, but I wasn’t satisfied…

The group really seemed to be at a disadvantage with the language barrier so I did a little something extra and made custom background MV’s for their performances that had the English lyrics to their songs

This made their first battle a clean sweep as people as both their performance and the MV blew the competition out of the water (they sang Devil’s Manor).

I learned after that that they were kinda stuck in the US because they didn’t have enough money to afford a return ticket and the prize money would enough for them to buy a flight home.

Of course I agreed and basically became their assistant and translator (with the help of Luka) for their stay.

While waiting for my brother to pick me up a few things happened; some guy tried to flirt with An and when Kohane clinged to her saying that she was hers, it was like the guy just found out lesbians existed.

And I met up with a group for friends from an art class and lo and behold a certain brunette illustrator was using my lost sketchbook as inspiration for some of her own sketches.

Ena and I got to talking and that’s how I found out Akito was also a younger sibling. I promptly started bolting towards ginger around because my irl friendship language is being annoying and I wanted the deets on their relationship from his perspective.

While running I yelled something like “my brother is also a soccer player! You don’t think I know how to out endure you!” And I chased him around til he gave up and let me pester him lol.

We basically talked about being younger siblings and I even told him that while i think my brother’s cool that doesn’t stop me from hitting him with a plastic spoon for fun (real btw I did do that)

So yeah that was basically the dream, minimal Kohane moments but she was there.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Damage Gets Done - SAS Rogue Heroes x OC - Chapter 7

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |-| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Summary: As L Detachment is granted leave in the wake of Jock Lewes' death, more of Diana's personal life comes to light, and her friendship with Reg is cemented more than ever

Relationships: L Detachment x Platonic!OC, eventual Reg Seekings x OC

Warnings: Language, drunkenness, violence

Word Count: 5.2k (Got a bit carried away with this one)

Tags: @20th-centu-fairy-girl @trenchenjoyer @dcyllom @footprintsinthesxnd

A/N: Sorry for the slow updates! Anyone who's been to university knows November is ROUGH and I honestly had zero time to write until now, but I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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"We're all down right now - give it time, give them time, let them get some rest. We'll bounce back soon enough."

David Stirling would never admit how desperate a bid it had been when he first gave the order for the men of L Detachment to disperse - to take some time away from the bleak desert wasteland and dwell amongst the living for a while, to see what Cairo had to offer and wash the taste of grief from their tongues. The loss of Jock Lewes had hit every single one of them in a variety of ways, the stagnation of death hanging thick in the air at Jalo, and it seemed they were hanging on by a thread. They could only live at half mast for so long before something went wrong, before they lost someone else too.

And so he had sent them packing - dispelled the group with the distribution of their uniform, and L Detachment had been allowed to descend on the streets of Egypt's capital. He almost pitied the rest of the city, but from high up in his apartment, Eve resting comfortably in his arms, he found he couldn't quite give a shit about what the rest of them were getting up to.

The Cairo sunshine was beating down on Diana Fayed's scalp as she made her practised way through the city streets, a stack of bangles jangling on one wrist, an antique watch ticking away on the other. A cigarette hung from between her lips, a long stump of ashes building up on its tip as she wove through the bustling crowds, narrowly avoiding a few stray Brits and carefully dodging the street vendors she had come to know as the most persistent. It was a hub of life, and she knew its walkways like the back of her hand, each step so rehearsed she scarcely had to think, years of repetition ingrained in her very bones.

It was this intimate knowledge of the place that made it so easy to tell when something was off. Which was why the din of a brawl down a nearby alley made her ear prick as she passed, pausing to stomp out her cigarette against the pavement.

The alley in question was usually quiet, especially during the day, its path better trodden at night when the brothels on either side were most active. Shuttered windows, often used to lure in customers from the street below, had been bolted tightly shut, the inhabitants of the two establishments decidedly ignorant of whatever was going on outside. In cities such as these, people perfected the art of minding their business very quickly.

Dian leant her shoulder up against the brick arch that lined the entryway, peering through the rabble as the uniformed men scrapped and beat each other senselessly, and she fought to suppress a sigh at the familiar-looking berets she spotted in the crowd.

Only had the uniform for a day, and already they're showing us up.

As the chair in Fraser's hands collided swiftly with the back of another soldier's head, she winced, beginning to rather enjoy the spectacle as it went on. Here in Cairo, she wore no uniform - here in Cairo, she didn't have to worry about being associated with this band of beloved morons. Bill's decisive blow seemed to end the squabbling, and a moment of stillness almost had a chance to descend upon the group before the far-off sound of the MP's whistle shattered any illusion that this was over, that there might not be a consequence for their actions this time.

There wouldn't be if she could help it.

Roughly shouldering past a confused-looking soldier, necklace bouncing against her chest with each forceful step, Diana raised her fingers to her lips, filling the absence of a cigarette, and released a sharp whistle. The sudden sound drew the attention of every man in the alley, alarmed expressions of recognition spreading across the faces of her comrades.

"MPs. Move." She barked, the others bolting to flee the scene before they could be reprimanded or returned to the military prisons some of them had been recruited from.

Reg fell in step beside her as they hurried to escape through the opposite end of the alley, fidgeting to adjust his beret as he spoke. "Y'know, we only did it 'cause they were-"

"Yeah, I don't care," Diana interrupted, tugging at his arm and gesturing for the others to follow as she led them through a labyrinth of dark, narrow passages - remnants of what had once been streets, now built up and over so much so that they were little more than tunnels, hidden from even the sunlight above. They could hear people walking over their heads as they navigated the alleyways, the MPs' whistles growing fainter and more distant with each turning.

The men squinted in the sun as they emerged back into daylight, the maze of back streets opening out onto an actual road, trafficked by the expensive cars of the city's richest, men dressed in military uniforms with women on their arms traipsing the pavements. She had not taken pause even once since their escape had begun, taking each twist and turn on their route without an inkling of hesitation, and the others noticed. Reg had never known her in the city she'd grown up in, but it was as if Cairo became an extension of her own body, the streets so familiar beneath her feet it was as if they had been born as one, created as a single entity. She was almost a different person here - above them in every conceivable way.

Reaching the front door of a large residential building, he paused to frown at the armed guards posted on either side of the doorstep, Diana fumbling for a key in her pocket before sliding it into the lock and herding them inside with a sweeping arm. Whatever this place was, Reg had never seen anything like it - Persian rugs lined the stone floors, pieces of stained glass dotted in every window, the hallways leading inwards to a huge central courtyard, visible from the foyer, a fountain bubbling away peacefully within.

"Where are we?" Fraser asked, passing his weight from foot to foot as if still expecting the MPs to burst in at any moment.

She turned to reopen the door they had entered through, craning her neck to survey the street outside before addressing his question. "My house."

"Fuuuuck me," Seekings muttered under his breath, taking a moment to look around, pausing as he noticed a painting hung on the wall at the base of the stairs. He could tell it was Diana - or supposed to be her, at least - although the resemblance wasn't quite there. Her hair hung in the elegant, artificial curls he saw the Englishwomen sporting, far from the wild, tight ringlets he was used to. Her eyes were gentler, her smile softer, as if every bit of hardness she possessed had been filed down and dulled. The woman in the painting was beautiful, but she wasn't Diana - not the way he knew her. She wouldn't even spare the artwork a glance as they stood there in the hall, as if she were ashamed of its existence.

The low hum of conversation could be heard from somewhere upstairs, and the men turned their heads at the sound of footsteps against tile, the figure of General Hannigan strolling merrily towards them. Even the months of SAS conditioning had not removed the deepest impulses of military training, and their small group snapped to attention, hands raised to their foreheads in salute as the General approached, jacket emblazoned with medals yet hanging unbuttoned, one of his shirt tails hanging untucked from his trousers.

The General surveyed their appearances, left a mess by the alleyway brawl, bruises already blooming on the skin left bare. "These are your boys then, eh?"

Diana was perched on the bottom step of the staircase, untying the laces of her shoes, the bangles on her wrist jangling noisily with the movement. "Aye," She nodded, a slight smile curling her lips. Her boys. Reg supposed they were really. There was very little she could ask of them that they would not do.

"Well, I'm sure you lot have some stories under your belts. I'll have to have you round to tell me about them soon, don't you think Diana?"

"Yeah, sure," Diana replied, padding barefoot across the hallway to an opening out into the courtyard, attempting to wrangle a stray cat that had made its way in as it lapped at the water in the fountain. Reg's brow furrowed, and Dave struggled to suppress a laugh beside him as she reached out and grabbed the creature, holding it at arm's length as it hissed and scratched the backs of her hands. Letting out a flurry of curses under her breath, Diana hurried to the front door, her father holding it open just long enough for them to expel the beast and bar its re-entry.

"Damn things," She muttered, sucking one of the cuts on her knuckles as the General straightened his jacket.

"Right, well, I've got half of senior command upstairs drinking their tea and wondering where I am, so I ought to go. Will you join us, Diana?"

"I'd rather be shot," She replied without hesitation, her jovial tone making Pat snort loudly. Hannigan seemed unphased by this response, giving his daughter a pat on the shoulder before disappearing up the staircase.

Silence hung among them for a long, awkward moment, droplets of blood blooming against her skin from where the cat had scratched at her. Diana looked up after a while of nursing her wounds, noticing the frown creasing Kershaw's expression. She shrugged. "We get them in here all the time. Dad keeps birds, so we've got to keep them out as best we can."

"... Right."

"Do you usually have half of senior command drinking tea in your house?" Fraser asked.

"Only on Wednesdays."

"Ah."

The coast outside had cleared, not a single MP in sight amongst the hustle and bustle of wealthy Englishmen sweating through their expensive suits in the Cairo heat. Diana had made sure to lightly scold them before letting the boys go, writing a shortlist of clubs they could actually enjoy and get appropriately hammered without military intervention. Kershaw took the list with a grin, tucking it into the breast pocket of his shirt with as much care as if it were the holy grail itself. Their evening plans secured, the small group made to leave, filing back out through the front door, keeping a keen eye open for any more cats attempting to gain entry.

Reg was the last to leave, pausing in the doorway to look back at her one last time. The afternoon sun slipped through at an angle, and in the light, he could see light shades of brown running through her dark curls. Whoever had painted her had been a fool. They hadn't looked close enough - they had missed everything that made her truly beautiful.

"Forget something, soldier?" She asked softly, a smirk teasing her expression. He reached out, taking her hand in his with all the care he had the day Jock had died, brushing the pad of his thumb across her scratched knuckles, leaving a slight smear of blood in his wake.

"Look after yourself, eh? Have a good night." Reg nodded, dropping her hand as swiftly as he had taken it and leaving without a word.

The sensation did not come easy to him. Reg Seekings had only ever been familiar with anger - with rage, violence, and the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his body after he committed it. It was hard to be gentle - hard to force his hands to work softly, as if he were reeling back every muscle in his body that knew how to hurt, tucking what seemed the biggest part of himself away and digging down deep in the hopes he might find something better. As they headed down the street, getting further and further from the house with each step, he looked down at his hand, a smudge of Diana's blood dried and dark against his thumb. It was the first drop of blood Reg had felt on his hand that had not been born of violence - that had not come from the force of his fists.

"Y'alright there, Reg?" Kershaw's voice came from ahead, looking back over his shoulder.

He pushed his bloodied hand into his pocket and out of sight. "Yeah."

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When Reg, Dave and Pat had decided to go out that night, they were almost certain the address Diana had given them was incorrect. She had doodled a star beside the club's name - a sure sign of its quality - but the men could not help but share a look of uncertainty as they were led down a dark, narrow alleyway, silent in the cool evening air, the only sound the whirr of engines a few streets over.

"We better not be lost," Dave muttered, tearing the map from Pat's hands who surrendered it with an almost insulted scoff.

"The address is wrong, it ain't my fault."

At the other end of the alley, a basement door opened, a sliver of warm light escaping towards them along with the soft sound of music. A man and woman emerged, arm in arm, swaying side to side, clearly intoxicated as they staggered past the three of them and disappeared around a corner, the heavy metal door they had existed through being pulled shut with a creak.

"Well. I s'pose that's it then," Kershaw said, ignoring Riley's sideways look of 'told you so, asshole'.

They approached tentatively, Reg's knuckled rapping against the metal with a loud thud thud thud. A letterbox-sized slot was tugged open, a man peering at them from inside, bathed in the golden glow of lamplight.

"What d'you want?" He demanded.

They could not simply demand entry. That wouldn't work, they were smart enough to know that. Reg opened his mouth, hoping something smart would come to him, but nothing did. Shouldering his way to the front of the group, Pat spoke up, turning on his American charm, his voice coming calm and smooth.

"We're friends of Diana Fayed."

The door was hauled open wordlessly, creaking on its hinges, and the trio looked at each other in disbelief at their luck, Dave clapping Pat on the shoulder in approval as they headed inside. The sound of live music hit them the moment they entered, the club opening out before them with as much wonder as a distant mirage in the desert. They entered through the basement into the club's second floor, balconies adorned with tables running around the walls, the centre open above the main floor below. Despite being burrowed deep in the ground without a window in sight, they had somehow created the illusion of daylight, and it felt as though they had stumbled upon a time machine, transporting them to the heat and brightness of midday sunlight.

A band was in full swing on the main floor below, playing raucously atop a small stage that had been built up opposite the bar, the tiled floor dotted with tabled and dancing couples, Cairo society mingling freely as the alcohol ran ceaselessly.

"She knows her stuff, our Di'" Dave chuckled, unable to wipe the giddy grin from his face as they made their way to a table. Reg lowered himself into a seat, doing a double-take as he noticed a pair of beautiful women nearby, gossiping amongst themselves as they stared at the uniformed men. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a smirk coming on. But there was an inkling of hesitation, a sense of unease somewhere deep in his stomach. This wasn't like him. He needed a drink.

"Speaking of Diana," Pat frowned, peering over the balcony railing at the crowd of people below. Reg looked down, spotting her almost instantly.

She was making her way from the bar, a glass of whiskey in each hand, red lips spread in a grin as she chatted to a uniformed soldier next to her, his shoulders carving a way through the crowd for her as they headed towards a table. Her curls fell neatly without the disruption of the desert wind, the dark hair in stark contrast against the white silk of her dress. It held her close in all the right places, a flattering v-neck in the front, and a deep back exposing the curve of her spine. It was as if she had been carved from marble, so perfect did she look in Reg's eyes. He felt his mouth turn dry.

"Hey, Di'!" Dave called, and she met their gaze, lifting one of the glasses in something between a wave and a toast. Whatever she called back had been lost beneath the din of the music, but Reg couldn't tear his gaze away from her, try as he might.

"She looks good," Pat observed. Seekings almost glared at him.

"Oi Reg, look out, got an admirer over there," Kershaw teased, gesturing towards the pair of women who had been watching since they entered. He spared another glance to Diana down below. She had reached her table, sitting amongst a crowd of military men and well-dressed women, the group chatting and laughing like old friends. She didn't need him looking out for her, even if he wanted to.

Fuck it.

Reg picked up his glass as their drinks arrived, taking a sip and rising from his chair. "Fellas," He nodded, the others jeering in encouragement as he made his way over.

━━━━━━━━��━━━━━

It had been the first drop of real, good alcohol she had felt on her tongue since everything had happened. She hadn't had a drink when Eoin died, she hadn't had a drink when Jock died. Tonight it seemed Diana was drinking for both of them. No more sipping out of scavenged bottles they'd stolen from the New Zealanders. This was the good stuff.

"You sure you're good?" Jas asked from beside her. Jaspreet Nadar had been her best friend since they were children, since her father had followed the flow of cash from India to Egypt and decided to set up his business here, becoming friends with the General along the way. The pair hadn't seen each other in months, but their much-awaited reunion was becoming somewhat tainted by the tragedies Diana had witnessed. The moment the first drop of drink rolled down her throat it was as if she remembered everything she could be drinking for - and with that came the urge for another glass. And another.

Diana reached over and took Jaspreet's hand in hers, their palms slotting together perfectly. "Will you get drunk with me?" She asked sincerely.

The corner of Jas' mouth curled upwards in a smile both sympathetic and mischievous. "You know you never have to ask me that twice," She said, and Diana laughed as she watched her best friend upturn a shot glass and let its contents spill down her throat.

Their company for the night was largely comprised of the sons of Diana's father's friends - young, bright, military men hoping to live up to their fathers' legacies - and university students who had crossed the river in search of a good time. Neither Diana nor Jaspreet knew any of them as more than acquaintances or drinking buddies, but the atmosphere was jovial, and for a moment one could almost forget there was a war going on outside of that basement.

Except Diana couldn't forget. Sometimes she would wake in the dark, and for a moment find herself back in the desert the night of her first jump, staring up at the endless blackness, Eoin McGonigal's corpse a dead weight behind her, every muscle in her body screaming for release. She had ached for a week after that night, and was beginning to suspect Paddy had noticed her reluctance to meet his eye. In the SAS there was no time to stop, to process, to find a healthy way to cope instead of drowning in the horrors you had seen - and those you had committed yourself. The warmth of the alcohol in her throat was a calming presence, a mellowing influence that held the memories at bay. She began to find herself reaching for the next glass before she had finished the first.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Reg's night was coming to a close. Comfortably buzzing from the alcohol, a beautiful woman ready to accompany him home - it was everything a night should be in a place like this. Downing the last of his drink, placing the glass down with the finality of a man ready to leave, he held out his arm to the woman - whose name he found he was struggling to recall - and she took it as they rose to their feet, a sense of anticipation hanging between them for what was to come.

It was just as he was about to leave when a hand seized his shoulder. He felt his entire body tense, mind suddenly racing in an attempt to pin who it could be. An off-duty MP who recognised him from the brawl? One of those cunts from the alleyway looking for a round two? Reg squared his shoulders in preparation for a confrontation as he turned, only to fall limp again as he found himself face to face with Kershaw, his brow furrowed in concern.

"What is it?" Seekings asked, tilting his head towards the woman on his arm to signal his preoccupation.

"We've got a... situation," Dave frowned.

"What the fuck is it?"

"Well..."

Over the din of the band, Reg heard a familiar cackle erupt from down below. Expression furrowing to match Dave's, he stepped towards the balcony railing, peering down at the main floor below. Diana's table was now empty save for her and another woman he didn't recognise - thick black hair curled fashionably, draped in a dress of purple silk - and the both of them were visibly, utterly, unmistakably shit-faced. Pat had already gone down, and had a gentle grip on Diana's arm, attempting to help her up from her chair as she continued to tell the other woman a very loud story, her words coming slurred as her companion struggled to contain her giggles.

"Oh, fuck," He muttered, his companion for the evening suddenly forgotten as he made his way to the stairs, descending with Kershaw close behind him.

Riley was visibly embarrassed by the attention they were drawing from nearby patrons as he attempted to steady Diana on her feet, ankles almost buckling as she tried to balance in her heels. "No, because he had a gun!" She slurred, halfway through her story, the other woman at the table letting out another laugh.

"Jesus Christ, how much have you had?" Reg scolded, wrapping an arm around her torso as he reached her side. Diana's brow rose in surprise at this, peering down at where his hand had a firm grip on her waist.

"Handsy," She noted, snorting back laughter.

"Fucking hell. Let's go."

The men attempted to steer her towards the exit but she tugged against them with all her might, craning her neck to look behind them. "Nooo, we have to bring Jas!"

"Who?" Dave asked, preoccupied with shouldering his way through the crowd ahead.

"She's my best friend, we have to bring her!" Breaking free of Reg's grip, he let out a frustrated sigh as he realised she had kicked off her heels, leaving them discarded in the middle of the floor as she returned for her friend, the pair swaying against each other as Jas stood up. "If you don't bring her I'll shout kidnap. I'm not fuckin' around."

None of them had the energy to argue, and so they helped the two women up out of the club, emerging into the cool night air, squinting in the darkness. Kershaw had a firm hand on Jaspreet's arm, and it was only once she was certain the other woman was with the group that Diana let Reg help her along, leaning into his side as he kept an arm around her.

"What happened to all your fancy friends, eh?" He asked quietly, feeling the warmth of her skin through her dress.

"They got bored - we got loud and they got embarrassed - went off to find somewhere else to sit."

There was that anger Reg knew all too well, bubbling up inside his chest so quickly he had to keep himself from clenching the hand that had a hold on her. She had been vulnerable, and they had ditched her. Who knew what could have happened, where she could have ended up had someone less savoury showed up? The possibilities flooding his thoughts made his blood boil, and his grip on her tightened slightly.

It had taken almost a half hour of wandering for the three soldiers to admit that they could not remember the way to Diana's home, the realisation hitting them with a sense of slight panic. Even with her knowledge of the city, there was no way she'd be able to guide their way back in this state. After some time deliberating, it became clear that they had only one option.

Stirling's butler opened the door to his flat promptly, an immediate expression of dread crossing his face at the sight before him. Reg, Dave and Pat were stood in the hallway outside, smiling hopefully as Diana and Jaspreet attempted to recall the lyrics to a song that had been playing in the club, giggling as they failed to find the words.

"No. No." The man protested, shaking his head despite his willingness to step aside for the group, the men shuffling past him and into Stirling's living room.

"Where's Stirling?" Kershaw asked, guiding Jas into a nearby armchair.

"He's out. You're lucky he doesn't have anyone over tonight, or you'd be in real trouble."

"Yeah, well. If he had a problem with this, tell him to call General Hannigan," Reg grunted.

The butler left the room swiftly, clearly choosing to pretend he hadn't seen anything at all. Diana was half-lying down on the sofa, her head pressed against the armrest, kicking off the shoes Reg had made her put back on before they left.

Without a word, Seekings turned to leave, fists clenched. "Woah, where are you going?" Pat called. He was satisfied that Diana was safe, but another pressing issue was tugging at him.

"I'll be back soon," He said simply, the door to the flat closing behind him with a slam.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was well into the early hours of the morning when Reg returned, entering far more quietly than he had left as he eased the door shut behind him. The flat had slipped into a comfortable silence, the only light creeping in from the streetlamps outside, a faint orange glow bathing half of the main room.

He collapsed backwards into the nearest armchair with a sigh, exhaustion tugging at his eyelids as he nursed the cuts and bruises that now littered his knuckles. The sudden shift of the light somewhere to his left startled him, sucking in a loud, sharp breath. "Fuckin' hell," He whispered.

"Sorry," Diana's voice replied from the darkness, and as his eyes adjusted he realised she was crouched on the hardwood floor, gently removing the pins from Jas' hair as the other woman slept soundly, her face pressed into the sofa cushions.

"Oh, it's you," Reg sighed, relaxing into his seat once more. "...What are you still up for?"

"These'll hurt when she wakes up," She pointed out, forming a neat pile of hairpins in the palm of her hand as she removed them one by one. It was such a caring gesture that he couldn't help but smile, almost forgetting the twinging pain in his fists.

"... Where did you go?"

"Oh, uh..." Reg looked down at the cuts on his hands. Diana shuffled across the floor towards him, the skirt of her dress creasing and bunching up around her hips with the movement. Even in the dark, he could make out the exposed skin of her thighs, and tried his damndest not to look. She was still drunk, after all. "Had some shit to deal with."

She reached up, taking one of his wounded hands in hers and squinting to make out the blood that was now beginning to scab. "Did you beat someone up?" Diana asked, almost teasingly.

"Went back to the club," He admitted. "Found one of the blokes who ditched you..."

He could make it out in her expression the moment she realised what he had done. Reg tensed, half expecting her to be angry, but in her intoxicated state, she merely smiled, letting out a giddy chuckle.

"Well, I am flattered," Diana grinned, and he had begun to do the same when she pressed her lips against the cuts that covered his knuckles, holding them there for a moment before turning her head to rest her cheek against the back of his palm, curled up on the floor beside him.

Reg sucked in another deep breath, fighting hard to bury anything he might have been feeling in that moment. In the dark he could feel the band-aids wrapped around her fingers from where the cat had scratched her, could feel the warmth of her cheek against his hand and hear the slow lull of her breathing. He could have stayed in that moment forever, but all at once it began to seem selfish.

"Right, come on," He grunted, pushing himself up from his chair. Diana looked up at him in confusion, and he spared a glance around the flat. "Where's the others gone?"

"Bed," She shrugged.

"Right then, that's where you're going too," Placing a hand on either side of her rib cage, she gripped his wrists as he hauled her up onto her feet, her skirt falling back down past her knees. Suddenly it was a little easier to breathe. Reg manoeuvred her awkwardly towards the sofa, accidentally stubbing his toe on something hard in the dark. He almost swore, and she pressed a finger to her lips, fighting a laugh as she shushed him, Jaspreet still sleeping soundly close by.

"Yeah, yeah," He whispered, shaking his head dismissively as she lay down along the length of the couch, curls splayed against the cushions. "Goodnight then," Reg nodded affirmatively, taking a step back.

"I think, technically, it's morning."

"Oh, shut up," He muttered, fighting a grin as he turned to leave, heading towards the spare room Stirling kept for guests on nights like these.

Just as he was about to leave, Diana's voice came, quiet and soft, from the darkness. "Thank you. For beating someone up for me, that's very sweet."

Reg nodded, a long pause lingering in the cool night air as he fought to find the right words.

"I will always be there to beat someone up when you need me," He said. Even in the dark, he could tell she was grinning.

"How romantic."

[nathanknowsitall]

Company

Summary: Nathan and you are strangers who end up sharing a hotel room together.

You were checking in way later than you had planned after your flight was canceled, postponed, and every other type of scheduling change that could happen to it did after a storm had disrupted your path.

It was 2 in the morning and you felt utterly miserable as you tiredly dragged your luggage through the lobby of the nice hotel that you were supposed to be sleeping in tonight. Emphasis on supposed to.

Because as soon as you approached the front desk, the concierge tells you that there are no rooms available for tonight.

"I have a reservation for tonight though."

The concierge doesn't even flinch as they repeat the same thing over about there being no rooms.

You pull out your phone and show them your booking.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we must've made a mistake on our end. All of our rooms are filled." The concierge finally motions to the computer, "But I will definitively check your reservations for the rest of the week and comp you for tomorrow."

As they calmly explain this to you, you can feel a part of yourself dying, but you try to remain calm as you look at another customer passing through the lobby.

"Do you know another place I can stay at tonight then?", you ask, yawning your way through your request.

This is when the concierge stiffens and becomes awkward. "Umm...once again, I am sorry for the inconvenience, but I fear there are no other rooms in the area. You know, with the storm and all."

You wanted to cry and scream and throw a tantrum on the floor like you were young again, but you held it together.

"Okay, do you mind if I stay in the lobby then?", you inquired as kindly as you could.

"Sure...", the concierge said unsurely. "Let me just ask my manager really quick," they said as they bolted off towards another room.

You were sure there was some more depressing news awaiting you as you stood there alone in the lobby. Actually, not alone.

"Hi...", the hotel guest you had seen earlier said carefully as he approached you. If you had the mental capacity, you would've said something like, "I don't bite", to ease the obvious tension that he was feeling, but alas, you didn't. Actually, you didn't say anything at all, but he continued nonetheless.

"Umm...I may have overheard your situation when I was passing through and I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in sharing my room? My manager always books me a room with two beds for me and my two cats, but, if you need it, it's free."

The relief that flooded through you at the offer almost made you cry.

"If it's not too much trouble?", you countered, giving him an out if he needed one.

He smiled kindly back at you. He had an awfully nice smile. A nice smile to compliment a nice man. Fitting.

"No trouble at all. If you're allergic to cats, I have some allergy pills if you need them and I have some cages that they can sleep in."

You laughed impolitely, "You're allergic to cats but you have two of them?"

He blushed, "Oh, no, I'm not allergic, but some of the people I work with are, so I keep them handy."

You genuinely smiled. He actually seemed like a nice guy. A nice looking guy. A nice behaving guy. Maybe it was just that time of night where you were getting so delirious that you were attracted to anything nice a person did, but you could already feel yourself falling in love with this guy. Your crude thoughts were interrupted by the concierge coming back.

"Unfortunately, our manager doesn't want anyone-oh, what do you need, sir?", the concierge said as they turned their attention from you to the man.

"Oh, nothing. But this-what is your name?", he asked you.

"Y/N L/N."

"Y/N L/N is going to be staying in my second bed."

The concierge looked at you concerned, but then shrugged their shoulders.

"Okay, I'll just update Mr. Fielder's room information and you can go. Have a nice night you two."

You rolled your eyes at the way the concierge's tone had made it sound like there was something romantic was going on, because there wasn't. But a tiny part of you sure hoped there would be.

Notes: Hi! I know I haven't posted in a long time, but here is a little blurb for an idea that I had for Nathan Fielder. I just caught up with "The Curse" today and felt motivated to post about him. Let me know what you think! Bye! <3

[oneofmanyburntoutcandles]

My Spelljammer party almost got arrested

The PCs: Xathyr (Astral Elf Captain); Sap (Plasmoid First Mate); Hex (Human Gunnery Sgt - my character and basically space Jinx because I have an obsession with Arcane.) ; Cornelius (Hadozee Bosun); B(l)ob (Plasmoid Helmsman - and yes the l is silent)

Background: The Cianamuri empire is at war with the Hadozee Liberation Army (HLA). Basically the Cianamuri is racist and they took Hadozee land which they now want back. Additionally, Cornelius, literally a farmer and one of the sweetest characters you will ever meet, accidentally got caught up in a drug deal with some Dohwar at our previous stop.

Open to our ship, the Mysttery Nutt (Yes I spelled that correctly), crossing the boarder into Cianamuri space. We get flagged down by empire ships wanting to board and do a customs check before we can continue. Cornelius looks at the ships and then loudly proclaims he is going to go downstairs and take a nap. He does not nap. Instead he jumps in a pile of hay and tries to hide. When the inspectors board they ask to see a ship manifest. It needs to be noted that Hex had immediately chosen chaos and decided to pretend to be captain of the ship, much to the chagrin of Xathyr. Additionally, B(l)ob had also chosen chaos and looked to the nearest crewman and says within earshot "Hey, you better hide your firearms." Strike number 1.

As the inspector's peruse the manifest of course they see that Cornelius is in fact Hadozee. (To no one's) Surprise, they want to speak with him to make sure he's "alright". o.O

Sap kindly offers to go downstairs and find him, whereupon she sees the top of Cornelius's head poking out from atop the hay. "Napping." he says. With a sigh, she tells Cornelius that he is needed upstairs. Without the ability to protest, Cornelius finds his way out of the hay while adeptly hiding one bottle of illegal alcohol and one bag of illegal drugs inside the hay.

Flash back to upstairs, Xathyr has about had it with Hex getting in the way and he knows she's exactly 0.2 seconds away from saying something that gets them blown out of the sky.

"You know, Hex, I think I saw some odd parts downstairs. If you could--"

Odd and parts. Her two favorite words, upon which she bolts downstairs passing Cornelius and Sap to search the hay stack...that has the drugs. (Spoiler alert: I rolled a Nat 20 on investigation.)

"Howdy there officers, name's Cornelius and I heard you wanted to speak with me?" (Like I told you. So sweet. Also probably terrified of the Cianamuri. Rightfully so.)

They ask him some questions, the prime one being "have you heard of and are you a member of the HLA?"

"No sir," (Lie) "Absolutely not. I would never...." (Lie)

Multiple crewmembers start to speak to his character.

The questions continue until soon, up on the deck, comes Hex carrying a bottle and a bag of illegal substances. "Xathyr! Look what I found!" Strike Number 2.

Xathyr is quick and is able to moderately block the inspectors view of the substances by standing in front of me. However, Cornelius saw. And now he's panicking. His eyes keep darting toward glimpses of bottle and bag that poke out from behind Xathyr. Sap also steps in front trying to help mitigate while Xathyr talks Hex down and tries to get her to go back downstairs.

B(l)ob also realizes what's going on and decides, it's time to help! To create a distraction, B(l)ob casts minor illusion, creating a firework on the other side of the deck. However, experienced players will know if you make an image with minor illusion it doesn't also get sound. Panicking, the imaged firework rises to the sky, and B(l)ob shouts as loud as he can "POP!"

The combination of the firework and B(l)ob's mouth confuses the inspectors and draws their attention away from Cornelius for just a moment, upon which he RUNS toward Hex, grabs the bottle and throws it out into space, and EATS the baggie of drugs.

Cornelius is running back up towards the inspectors, panting and obviously sweating now from eating an entire bag of a very potent drug when they turn to see him. Strike 3?

The inspectors blink as Hex leans around Xathyr and smiles broadly at them.

"Okay... well.. just stay away from trouble and the HLA and we should be good."

We all nod. Of course we would stay out of trouble. Well mostly. Haha...ha. Not like we cart surfed Club Penguin Style to an Underground rave, bought illegal drugs off a Dohwar, or shot a bunch of space pigeons just because. No, no trouble for us.

[shakti-industries123]

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[gfs-tanks]

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As part of a drinking water treatment project in Panama, our tanks were used for storing and treating wastewater, helping to ensure safe and clean water for local communities. The tanks met AWWA standards for water storage, providing reliable and safe containment.

Why Choose Shijiazhuang Zhengzhong Technology Co., Ltd.?

Proven Expertise and Global Reach

With over 30 years of experience in the tank manufacturing industry, Shijiazhuang Zhengzhong Technology Co., Ltd. has established itself as a global leader in the production of Glass-Coated Bolted Steel Tanks. Our tanks are used in more than 100 countries, providing reliable storage solutions for wastewater, potable water, and industrial effluents.

Industry-Leading Technology

Our proprietary Glass-Fused-to-Steel technology ensures that each tank is manufactured to the highest standards of quality, durability, and environmental compliance. We continually invest in research and development to bring innovative solutions to our customers.

Comprehensive Support and Service

From the initial design and engineering to installation and after-sales support, we offer comprehensive services to ensure the success of your project. Our global presence and dedicated support team are always available to assist you.

Sustainability and Cost Efficiency

Our Glass-Coated Bolted Steel Tanks are not only durable but also environmentally friendly and cost-efficient. Their long service life and low maintenance needs make them a sustainable choice for wastewater storage, reducing operational costs over time.

Contact Us Today for Your Wastewater Storage Needs

At Shijiazhuang Zhengzhong Technology Co., Ltd., we are committed to providing high-quality, durable, and sustainable storage solutions for wastewater treatment. Our Glass-Coated Bolted Steel Wastewater Storage Tanks offer over 30 years of service life, superior corrosion resistance, and unmatched reliability.

Contact us today to learn more about how our tanks can enhance your wastewater treatment system. Let us help you find the perfect solution to meet your storage needs!

[coldsongmusic]

Foundation Bolt Manufacturer

A foundation bolt manufacturer specializes in producing high-quality bolts essential for securing structures to concrete foundations. Foundation bolts are engineered for strength, stability, and durability, providing critical support to heavy equipment, industrial machinery, and construction projects. These bolts are available in various types, such as L-type, J-type, and U-type, each designed to meet specific load-bearing requirements. Manufacturers prioritize precision and quality, using premium materials and advanced manufacturing processes to ensure corrosion resistance and long-lasting performance. They offer customization options to match specific project needs, making these bolts suitable for diverse applications in industries like infrastructure, power plants, and telecommunications. With reliable foundation bolts, construction projects achieve enhanced safety, alignment, and structural integrity.

[animeengineer]

Edison Motors does not hide anything we’re doing, we believe that if EV technology is going to be implemented in the real world then the information on how the trucks work needs to be freely shared.

We put everything we do and built online for people to see. If a mechanic is going to service it, and trucker is going to operate it, they need to know how it works. We freely share what every nut and bolt does on our truck.

We do not hide our technology, we want it to be seen and adopted.

The L series is designed to go into the places no other electric truck dares to, and it’s designed to haul more weight than any other electric truck while it does it.

These means from day 1 we designed the Edison truck to be easy to service in every aspect.

We consider all the small details. For example: not using huck bolts and using nuts to allow field service of parts. Huck bolts need a torch to remove, regular grade 8 bolts can use a wrench.

We consider the large things: We promise that no computer system we design will ever go into a dealership to have its code read, all fault codes will be available to the driver with a written description of the fault and trouble shooting hints when possible.

Every truck will come with a parts list of every single item put into the truck, what store we sourced that part from and the part number of the item. This makes sure that your mechanics can find the right part anytime they need.

If you’ll notice almost none of the parts used on these trucks are actually made by Edison. We use common parts available at any truck parts store like CBS, Fort Garry or Fleet Brake. This means you don’t have to rely on Edison service and parts department to send you items, you can get your truck fixed as soon as possible.

Our very ethos in starting this was to build a truck designed to last like our 1969 Kenworth or 1971 Pacific that’s hauled logs and equipment for over 50 years.

We have studied these old trucks to find out exactly how they can be running 50 years later and what it comes down to is that every part is easy to fix, easy to replace and designed as simply as possible.

We believe that you should only have to buy an L series Edison once.

If you’re worried that we’ll run out of customers to sell to: there’s 400,000 Vocational trucks made every single year, we don’t mind not having to replace the trucks we sell you.

I’ve got mad respect for these guys. This is how you do ethical engineering.

[priyasinghi]

Why Foundation Bolts are Essential for Machine Stability and Performance

Foundation bolts are heavy-duty fasteners used to anchor machinery or structures to a concrete foundation. They are designed to provide stability and support for various applications, including industrial machines, electrical equipment, and structural components. Foundation bolts typically come in different shapes and sizes, including:

L-shaped bolts: These bolts have an “L” shape at one end for better grip and stability.

Straight bolts: These are simple cylindrical bolts that can be used in conjunction with nuts and washers.

Foundation J bolts: These are a specific type of foundation J bolts with a shape, providing extra hold and security in concrete foundations.

When it comes to machine stability, foundation bolts are your first line of defense. Here’s how they contribute:

Preventing Movement: Machines can generate significant forces during operation, which can cause them to shift or vibrate. Foundation bolts anchor them firmly in place, preventing any unwanted movement.

Enhancing Structural Integrity: By securing the machine to the foundation, foundation bolts enhance the overall structural integrity of your setup. This means less wear and tear on the machine and surrounding components.

Resisting Environmental Factors: External factors such as wind, seismic activity, or heavy loads can threaten the stability of your machines. Foundation bolts provide the necessary resistance to keep your equipment secure.

Custom Fit: Different machines have different requirements. Foundation bolts can be customized in length and thickness to meet specific needs, ensuring a snug fit that enhances stability.

Foundation bolts are not just minor components in machinery; they are essential for ensuring machine stability and performance. They prevent unwanted movement, enhance structural integrity, and ultimately contribute to the efficiency and longevity of your machines.

When you’re looking for the best foundation bolts and foundation J bolts for machine stability, make sure to consider the material, size, and proper installation practices. By investing in high-quality foundation bolts, you’re not just securing your machines; you’re also investing in a safer and more efficient operational environment.

This guide will equip you with the knowledge to take your garment construction skills to the next level and create clothes that look and feel truly professional.

Link

Why Foundation Bolts are Essential for Machine Stability and Performance

[meghmanimetal]

Roofing Fasteners Supplier in Madhya Pradesh

Meghmani Metal Industries is a Manufacturer and Supplier of Roofing Fasteners in Madhya Pradesh, India. Our Registered Office and Manufacturing Unit is in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India. Roofing Fasteners Available We offer a range of Roofing Fasteners, including: "J" bolts "L" bolts Pipe bolts (Galvanized & PVC Coated) Roofing fasteners secure roofing materials such as metal panels, shingles, tiles, or membranes to a building's structure. They play a crucial role in ensuring the stability, durability, and weather resistance of the roof. Different types of roofing fasteners are available, each designed to match specific roofing materials, environmental conditions, and structural needs. Features of Roofing Fasteners Material: Typically made from stainless steel, galvanized steel, or aluminum for corrosion resistance. Coating: Many fasteners come with protective coatings to enhance durability against harsh weather conditions. Length and Gauge: Available in various lengths and gauges to accommodate different roofing materials and structures. What are the most common types of roofing fasteners? The most common types include screws, nails, plates, and straps, each serving different roofing applications. Can I use any fastener for my roofing project? No, it’s important to select fasteners that are compatible with your specific roofing material to ensure proper sealing and support. How do I know if my roofing fasteners are damaged? Inspect for rust, looseness, or signs of wear. If you notice any issues, it’s best to replace the fasteners to maintain roof integrity. Meghmani Metal Industries is Manufacturer and Supplier of Roofing Fasteners in Madhya Pradesh, India Including Agar, Malwa, Alirajpur, Anuppur, Ashoknagar, Balaghat, Barwan, Betul, Bhind, Bhopal, Burhanpur, Chhatarpur, Chhindwara, Damoh, Datia, Dewas, Dhar, Dindori, East Nimar, Guna, Gwalior, Harda, Hoshangabad, Indore, Jabalpur, Jhabua, Katni, Mandla, Mandsaur, Morena, Narsinghpur, Neemuch, Niwari, Panna, Raisen, Rajgarh, Ratlam, Rewa, Satna, Sehore, Seoni, Shahdol, Shajapur, Sheopur, Shivpuri, Sidhi, Singrauli, Ujjain, Umaria, Vidisha, West Nimar. For further inquiries or customized solutions, feel free to contact us. View Product: Click Here Read the full article

[heavydutyl493]

Heavy Duty L Brackets

Heavy Duty L Brackets: The Ultimate Solution for Strong, Secure Support

Introduction

Heavy-duty L brackets are a versatile and robust hardware component that plays a crucial role in both residential and industrial construction. Whether you're working on a DIY project at home or involved in large-scale commercial installations, L brackets are an essential tool for providing solid support and stability. Their primary function is to reinforce joints, mount heavy objects, or secure structural elements to walls, floors, or ceilings. They come in various sizes and designs to cater to different weight capacities and material types, making them a reliable choice for a wide range of applications.

In this article, we’ll explore the advantages of using heavy-duty L brackets, the types of projects they are ideal for, and the reasons why they stand out as the go-to hardware for those seeking maximum strength and durability.

What Are Heavy Duty L Brackets?

Heavy-duty L brackets are corner-shaped brackets made from sturdy materials such as steel or aluminum, designed to bear substantial loads. These brackets typically have a right-angle design (hence the "L" in the name) and are used to join two materials—such as wood, metal, or concrete—at a 90-degree angle. Their construction makes them ideal for supporting shelving, securing countertops, and reinforcing furniture or structural frames.

Compared to regular L brackets, heavy-duty versions are built to withstand much higher stress, making them suitable for load-bearing applications. Some designs include additional holes for screws or bolts to enhance their holding capacity, making them more secure in extreme conditions.

Why You’d Use Heavy Duty L Brackets

Superior Load-Bearing Capacity The primary reason to opt for heavy-duty L brackets over standard ones is their ability to support more weight. In applications where the stability of the structure or object is critical, such as holding up heavy wooden shelves or supporting kitchen countertops, these brackets provide peace of mind. Their robust construction ensures that they won’t bend, warp, or fail under the pressure of heavy loads, making them ideal for construction, renovation, and industrial purposes.

Versatility Heavy-duty L brackets are versatile enough to be used in a wide variety of settings. You can use them for shelving units, custom-built furniture, supporting walls in construction, and even industrial storage solutions. Their simple yet effective design allows them to work seamlessly across different materials such as wood, concrete, and metal. The brackets are often used to stabilize bookcases, reinforce the corners of wooden frames, or mount storage cabinets, making them a highly adaptable tool for any construction project.

Durability and Longevity Another major advantage of using heavy-duty L brackets is their durability. Made from high-quality metals like steel or aluminum, these brackets are resistant to wear and tear, making them suitable for both indoor and outdoor applications. In addition, they are often treated with rust-resistant coatings or finishes that allow them to endure harsh environments, including exposure to moisture, temperature changes, and chemical elements. This makes heavy-duty L brackets ideal for use in places like garages, workshops, or outdoor settings where structural integrity is crucial over time.

Easy Installation Installing heavy-duty L brackets is relatively simple and doesn’t require specialized tools. The brackets typically come with pre-drilled holes, making it easy to screw them into place with basic hand tools like a drill or screwdriver. Whether you're a seasoned professional or a DIY enthusiast, working with heavy-duty L brackets doesn’t require much technical expertise, but it does deliver professional-grade results. Additionally, the installation process is quick, and once securely in place, the brackets offer long-lasting support with minimal maintenance.

Cost-Effective Solution When compared to other structural reinforcement options, heavy-duty L brackets are a cost-effective solution. They offer exceptional value because of their affordability and durability, providing long-term support without the need for frequent replacements. For those working on budget-sensitive projects, heavy-duty L brackets allow you to achieve reliable and sturdy results without breaking the bank. Their low maintenance requirements further contribute to their overall cost-effectiveness, as you won’t need to spend on repairs or replacements frequently.

Common Applications for Heavy Duty L Brackets

Furniture Assembly and Repair Heavy-duty L brackets are frequently used in the assembly and repair of furniture. Whether you're reinforcing a wobbly chair, assembling a bookshelf, or securing a tabletop, these brackets ensure that your furniture remains sturdy and stable. Their ability to support significant weight makes them indispensable for larger pieces of furniture, such as beds or cabinets, where long-term durability is essential.

Shelving Support One of the most common uses for heavy-duty L brackets is to support shelving units. These brackets can hold up the weight of items stored on the shelves, including heavy objects like books, tools, or electronics. Installing heavy-duty brackets provides the necessary support for floating or wall-mounted shelves, ensuring that they remain securely attached to the wall and don’t sag or collapse under the load.

Construction and Framing In construction projects, L brackets play a critical role in framing and structural support. They are often used to join two beams at a right angle, providing extra reinforcement to corners and ensuring the structure remains square. Heavy-duty L brackets are also used in building storage units, such as lofts or elevated platforms, where stability is essential to prevent accidents.

Industrial Applications Heavy-duty L brackets find widespread use in industrial settings where safety and stability are paramount. They are often used in warehouses to mount shelving systems, support machinery, or reinforce loading docks. Their heavy-duty nature ensures they can withstand the wear and tear of daily industrial use, while their corrosion-resistant finishes make them ideal for use in environments exposed to harsh chemicals or extreme conditions.

Home Improvement Projects Whether you’re building a new garage or renovating your kitchen, heavy-duty L brackets can serve as a fundamental part of your home improvement toolkit. They can be used to secure countertops, reinforce cabinets, and even create custom storage solutions in basements or attics. With heavy-duty L brackets, you can execute a wide range of DIY home improvement projects with confidence, knowing that your structures will be safe and stable.

Conclusion

Heavy-duty L brackets are an indispensable tool for both DIY enthusiasts and professionals alike. Their combination of superior load-bearing capacity, versatility, durability, and cost-effectiveness makes them a practical choice for various applications, from simple shelving installations to complex industrial construction projects. Whether you’re assembling furniture, reinforcing structural elements, or working on home improvements, heavy-duty L brackets offer the strength and reliability needed to ensure long-term success. By investing in high-quality heavy-duty L brackets, you’re not just adding hardware to your project—you’re adding peace of mind. Their robust construction and ability to withstand significant weight ensure that your projects remain stable and secure, no matter the application.

[the-firebird69]

If you can imagine that the sign is a little taller and a couple of the changes the wheel wells and such fit more appropriately and it will be all stamped and it would be very quick you can't really stamp modern shapes or too difficult but these panels are not that hard. It's like had an l people say that it's shaped in an L shape and it's not easy it is easy but the way that they are built and attached makes it easier and the ones that are rounded don't necessarily bend to the wrong shape when you stamp it now we have been pretty good but other people can do this and they know what we mean you stamp the the shape and it bolts on from the shape that you stamp in other words you put extra material and then you cut out certain pieces it's not that difficult with machines it doesn't take any time and you can actually step out what you need as a matter of fact if you heat it right and enough you stay up and so it makes little tabs and we know how to do that

I'm going to go ahead with this idea this is a great idea

Thor Freya

I like this red one. And it says we probably won't have this bright red and it's been saying we probably won't but you can have custom colors I like the two-tone idea might be a bit bright he says it'll look different and I agree this is nice

Hera

Olympus

[nickigunshops]

The Browning X-Bolt Max FDE: A Precision Rifle for the Modern Shooter

In the world of firearms, precision and reliability are key factors that determine a shooter’s success. The Browning X-Bolt Max FDE stands out as an exceptional choice for those seeking a top-tier rifle with a blend of advanced technology and rugged performance. Designed to meet the demands of both seasoned hunters and shooting enthusiasts, this rifle is available for purchase online, making it easier than ever to add this exceptional firearm to your collection.

A Brief Overview of the Browning X-Bolt Max FDE

The Browning X Bolt Max FDE buy online is part of Browning's renowned X-Bolt series, which is known for its superior accuracy and quality. The "Max" in its name signifies enhanced features designed to maximize performance. The FDE, or Flat Dark Earth, refers to the rifle’s distinct color scheme, offering a tactical, yet stylish appearance that appeals to modern shooters.

This rifle is built with a number of key features that make it a standout choice. It features a rugged and lightweight construction, thanks to its synthetic stock and sleek design. The Flat Dark Earth finish not only adds to its aesthetic appeal but also provides a durable coating that resists scratches and wear.

Key Features and Benefits

Precision Engineering: At the heart of the X-Bolt Max FDE is Browning’s dedication to precision engineering. The rifle boasts a free-floating barrel that enhances accuracy by minimizing the impact of external factors. This ensures that every shot is as precise as possible, making it ideal for both long-range shooting and hunting.

Adjustable Stock: One of the standout features of the X-Bolt Max FDE is its adjustable stock. This allows shooters to customize the length of pull and comb height to suit their individual preferences. The result is a more comfortable and ergonomic shooting experience, which can significantly improve accuracy and overall performance.

Smooth Bolt Action: Browning’s proprietary bolt-action system is renowned for its smooth operation. The X-Bolt Max FDE features a three-lug design that allows for a short bolt lift, making chambering rounds quick and easy. This system is designed to provide reliable feeding and extraction, ensuring that the rifle performs flawlessly under various conditions.

Enhanced Trigger System: The rifle is equipped with an adjustable trigger that offers a crisp, clean break. This feature enhances the shooter’s control and accuracy, allowing for more precise shot placement. The trigger pull can be adjusted to suit individual preferences, providing a tailored shooting experience.

Durable Construction: The X-Bolt Max FDE is built to withstand the rigors of demanding shooting environments. Its synthetic stock is both lightweight and durable, making it resistant to the elements. Additionally, the Flat Dark Earth finish adds a layer of protection against wear and tear.

Why Buy Online?

Purchasing the Browning X-Bolt Max FDE online offers several advantages. Online retailers often provide a broader selection of models and configurations, allowing you to find the exact rifle you want. Additionally, buying online often means access to competitive pricing and promotions that may not be available in physical stores.

Moreover, online purchases can be conveniently shipped directly to your door or to a local firearms dealer, streamlining the acquisition process. Many online retailers also offer detailed product descriptions and customer reviews, helping you make an informed decision before purchasing.

 

The Browning 300 PRC rifle  that combines precision, durability, and style, making it an excellent choice for both serious hunters and shooting enthusiasts. Its advanced features, coupled with its striking Flat Dark Earth finish, set it apart from other rifles in its class. By choosing to buy online, you can easily access this top-quality firearm and enjoy the benefits of convenience and competitive pricing. Whether you’re looking to enhance your hunting experience or add a new piece to your collection, the Browning X-Bolt Max FDE is a rifle that delivers exceptional performance and reliability.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

The internal fuss he had was over the process of airport security, of passing papers back and forward. He's never been good with paperwork of any kind. The only thing close to that was making investigation, conspiracy, and other wise a messy board of notes, clippings, and print outs. That best work he has ever done with paper ever and even than it looks like chaos with not all the ends connecting.

Once it's over, he can breath in again and they can move on. If he screwed this up, he would never live it down. Which was something that was already happening. Screwing this up, maybe he should have bolted out the window back in his apartment. Run away. He was awfully good at that lately.

Clint smiles to the flight attendants, tries to find the Barton luck within him to come off at charming even if he knows he looks like he's had a very long and stressful day. He has. It's been a long week. He hadn't even told Tony about Lucky throwing up and the pain of going to the vet

The dog was fine but it had been a frustrating day. Shit, should he try to act normal for five minutes? This was about Tony, this was about paying Tony back for his kindness and because he was his friend. It was not about the preferable desire to be drunk, alone, and beaten down by his life.

Normal went out the window when he slept with Tony. He's slept with a lot of people lately. Most of them exs and than the exs didn't want to talk about it, and made it clear it was cheap thrills. ❝ Fuck. ❞ He grits his teeth, trying to be softer. It's not meant for Tony to hear, it's meant to complain about his thoughts and the fact he really had to complicate his life with doing that. And than sleeping with Tony.

Which could there be a repeat on the table? Or had he royally screwed that up with spewing the doom and gloom?

There is a mild annoyance as he sees how Tony smiles at the women, they smile back, and he thinks that the Barton Curse is definitely following him to London. It's going to be incredibly dickish but he will cockblock this if he has to.

Tony's gotta suffer with him, at least until they get to London. Than he'll try to pull himself together enough to be a supportive friend.

His hearing aids were on, the energy to talk was just drained out of Clint. A rarity, a feat in fact, for that to happen.According to most people at least. When Tony signs, it comes as a surprise.

He raises his hands, signing slower than he would with Natasha and Kate.

< You learn A-S-L? > Clint understands that Tony's probably barely started, but this is going onto a list of things that is contributing to the anger in weird ways. Tony's still being nice to him. He's not really angry at Tony, it's an internal personal thing that's comes out directed at other people. < M-O-C-K-T-A-I-L. Mock alcohol > He gives the sign for what he had been spelling, it wasn't it's own sign simply the sign for mock paired with sign for alcohol.

He was not going to have a mocktail. He can wait for a beet in Britain. < Coffee > He signs, and he needs that coffee in his veins now. ❝ My aids are on, I could hear the customs guy's nasally voice and scoff. ❞ He was pretty sure the scoff about him. Bastard. He didn't even know the guy and he didn't like him? Clearly it was a that guy problem, but still.

< A-S-L better > He signs, it takes less energy even if he's moving more. It's become preferred in a way he didn't get to share. That's another thing that as he's gotten older has depressed him. It's a hearing world made for the hearing.

When he sees the panic in Clint's eyes at the wave of the passport, Tony starts to worry that Clint forgot his passport. That would be the end of it. They'd get in the car. He'd drive Clint home and then end. Tony would see it as a sign not to follow up on Amanda Armstrong and he would leave Clint to it, because clearly that's what's supposed to happen or they'd be getting on the plane right now. Tony claps him on the shoulder. "Yeah. I know," he says, though he doesn't know if Clint can hear him or not.

But whatever Clint shows the border security guy is good enough and the next thing they know, he's getting onto the plane. The flight attendants greet them both and ushering them through, making sure to touch them both on the arm and then just between the shoulder blades. Tony's fairly certain they'd sleep with him if he wanted them too. It's been a long time since he's slept with anyone that's technically staff, but the way things are going he might just do it today to get out of Clint's way.

He takes a seat and he buckles himself in. The main cabin has the seats for taking off and landing, what was the bar, the lounge with the movie screen and stripper poles. There's a door half way down. On the other side is a bedroom with a full bathroom that includes a shower. But Tony won't tell Clint about that unless he has to. He's going to force them to interact for a little longer.

The flight attends come down to check on them, leaning in close as they offer them both drinks. Tony's not sure if Clint turned his hearing aids back on or not so he signs to him. 'Drink? No alcohol. They can do a m-o-c-k-t-a-i-l. Coffee?' Tony signs. He had to spell mocktail out. He didn't get that far yet. but the others he's fine with.