#feed mill machine
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hermmachinery · 3 months ago
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8-12T/H Feed Mill Plant Installation in Ethiopia
Ethiopia is a country where agriculture serves as a primary economic pillar, with poultry and cattle playing significant roles in agricultural production. Poultry and cattle farming are major sources of livelihood for farmers and important economic sources for many households in Ethiopia.
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In Ethiopia, poultry and cattle farming are primarily concentrated in rural areas. Farmers raise chickens and cattle to meet their families' food and economic needs. Chicken meat and eggs are among the main sources of protein for the Ethiopian people, while cattle provide important products such as milk, meat, and leather.
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However, despite the potential and importance of poultry and cattle farming in Ethiopia, the industry still faces several challenges, including:
1. Lack of infrastructure: Many rural areas lack adequate poultry and cattle farming infrastructure, such as feed processing plants, veterinary clinics, and refrigeration facilities, which limits the development of the industry.
2. Diseases and epidemics: The poultry and cattle farming industry is threatened by diseases and epidemics such as avian influenza and cattle plague, which have significant impacts on production and the economy.
3. Shortage of feed supply: Feed supply shortages are another challenge for Ethiopia's poultry and cattle farming industry. Farmers often face problems such as rising feed prices and unstable supply.
However, the Ethiopian government and international organizations are taking measures to support the development of poultry and cattle farming. By providing technical training, improving infrastructure, strengthening disease surveillance, and promoting farmer organizations, efforts are being made to address the challenges faced by the industry, promote its sustainable development, and provide better livelihoods and economic opportunities for farmers.
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During the installation process, the engineers prioritized quality and efficiency, conducted a comprehensive assessment of the site conditions, formulated detailed installation plans for the poultry and cattle feed production line and discussed with the client and liaison personnel to ensure that the installation work proceeded smoothly. For possible shortages of tools and manpower, the engineers prepared detailed lists in advance and communicated extensively with the client to ensure that the required resources were available promptly.
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Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd was established in 2010 and has been devoted to the research and development of Feed Mill Machinery ever since. With more than 10 years of experience, Herm® has become a leading manufacturer and supplier of animal feed machines and complete animal feed production lines, cattle feed plants, poultry feed plants, animal feed pellet production lines, etc. It always endeavored to improve the quality of products and aims to meet the new requirements of the international market. 
If You Are Ready to Start a Feed Pellet Plant Business, please contact us for the feed mill machine. We Can Provide Professional Design and Comprehensive Guidance According to Your Needs. Get in touch with us now!   Welcome Contact Us! Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd Email: [email protected] Phone/Whatsapp: 86-18037508651
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starmacnc · 2 years ago
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auto feeding starma cnc wood lathe machine woodworking turning with 4 fu...
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carlcui · 2 years ago
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5 ton per hour poultry livestock farms and feed mill powder feed making plant
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the-californicationist · 8 months ago
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I was thinking about the Pasadena strawberry festival I used to go to as a kid, and now I want a reader who is super excited for like a local fair and drags Price along with her to go on rides and stuff. It could be fluffy, or it could dissolve into something sticky and smutty. :3
MDNI
Ever since your stressful ordeal, you and John had made excuse after excuse to get off base. Now that Makarov was rotting in the cold Russian ground, John looked as if he could finally breathe. Those first two weeks had been like a fever dream. four flights, two buses, and an Uber ride home all led to the longest hibernation session of your life.
You'd fallen asleep together on a bare mattress, not even bothering to put the fitted sheet over it. He covered you with his body, trapping you beneath him protectively, just as he'd done in your safehouse, unwilling to compromise even now that every house was safe. It seemed like you'd slept for days. Soap called, Ghost sent a few texts, and Gaz dropped by to leave you with some lo mein, but for the most part, they knew you needed rest. And time.
When you finally emerged from your cave, John Price looked like a new man. His eyes seemed brighter, and the worry that creased his forehead smoothed itself like melting ice, thawing him from the inside out.
You knew he was almost cured when he brought home two tickets to the local Strawberry Fest, his eyes twinkling and his belly hungry for strawberry funnel cake fries.
"C'mon, missus. I'll even ride the ferris wheel with you. If I pay the bloke at the bottom, maybe he'll stop it long enough for me to get my hands dirty, huh?"
He teased you, lifting up your dress to squirm a hand inside of your panties, chasing you when you laughed and wrenched yourself away.
The festival was everything good about summer. The weather was bright and clear, the breeze was cool, and the strawberry cider you were drinking was going straight to your head.
John had made a beeline for the funnel cake stand, and as you sat on a grassy knoll together, you let him feed you slices of strawberries covered in light clouds of cream. As you watched the crowd of people milling about, dragging their screaming children, kissing and laughing and eating and dancing, you finally understood the weight of what you had done.
You knew, while you were working, but your hatred for Makarov had blinded you to the truth. The truth was that normal people needed you. They couldn't protect themselves. They would never even realize the danger they were in. It was up to you to stand in its way.
You wrapped your arm around John's wide bicep and planted a kiss on his shoulder, enjoying his messy chewing, wiping off the powdered sugar from his mustache, praying you had bought him some time. Praying that you could be with the normal people for a while, until the next time they needed protecting.
You wanted to see him at peace, and if this was it, then it was heaven.
"C'mon, love. You ready to go for a ride?"
You cast your eyes up at the huge ferris wheel, watching the great machine lift its riders up into the bright sky. John traced your knee with his fingertips, pressing his warm palm further and further up your dress until it was almost indecent. You leaned into him, spreading your legs just a bit so that his hand could travel even further, enjoying the look of shock on his face as you did.
"Hope we don't get stuck up there," you joked.
He smiled, squeezing the inside of your thigh,
"I wonder how much that costs."
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haggishlyhagging · 2 years ago
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“By 1900 child mortality was already declining—not because of anything the medical profession had accomplished, but because of general improvements in sanitation and nutrition. Meanwhile the birthrate had dropped to an average of about three and a half; women expected each baby to live and were already taking measures to prevent more than the desired number of pregnancies. From a strictly biological standpoint then, children were beginning to come into their own.
Economic changes too pushed the child into sudden prominence at the turn of the century. Those fabled, pre-industrial children who were "seen, but not heard," were, most of the time, hard at work—weeding, sewing, fetching water and kindling, feeding the animals, watching the baby. Today, a four-year-old who can tie his or her own shoes is impressive. In colonial times, four-year-old girls knitted stockings and mittens and could produce intricate embroidery; at age six they spun wool. A good, industrious little girl was called "Mrs." instead of "Miss" in appreciation of her contribution to the family economy: she was not, strictly speaking, a child.
But when production left the houschold, sweeping away the dozens of chores which had filled the child's day, childhood began to stand out as a distinct and fascinating phase of life. It was as if the late Victorian imagination, still unsettled by Darwin's apes, suddenly looked down and discovered, right at knee-level, the evolutionary missing link. Here was the pristine innocence which adult men romanticized, and of course, here, in miniature, was the future which today's adult men could not hope to enter in person. In the child lay the key to the control of human evolution. Its habits, its pastimes, its companions were no longer trivial matters, but issues of gravest importance to the entire species.
This sudden fascination with the child came at a time in American history when child abuse—in the most literal and physical sense—was becoming an institutional feature of the expanding industrial economy. Near the turn of the century, an estimated 2,250,000 American children under fifteen were full-time laborers—in coal mines, glass factories, textile mills, canning factories, in the cigar industry, and in the homes of the wealthy—in short, wherever cheap and docile labor could be used. There can be no comparison between the conditions of work for a farm child (who was also in most cases a beloved family member) and the conditions of work for industrial child laborers. Four-year-olds worked sixteen-hour days sorting beads or rolling cigars in New York City tenements; five-year-old girls worked the night shift in southern cotton mills.
So long as enough girls can be kept working, and only a few of them faint, the mills are kept going; but when faintings are so many and so frequent that it does not pay to keep going, the mills are closed.
These children grew up hunched and rickety, sometimes blinded by fine work or the intense heat of furnaces, lungs ruined by coal dust or cotton dust—when they grew up at all. Not for them the "century of the child," or childhood in any form:
The golf links lie so near the mill
That almost every day
The laboring children can look out
And see the men at play.
Child labor had its ideological defenders: educational philosophers who extolled the lessons of factory discipline, the Catholic hierarchy which argued that it was a father's patriarchal right to dispose of his children's labor, and of course the mill owners themselves. But for the reform-oriented, middle-class citizen the spectacle of machines tearing at baby flesh, of factories sucking in files of hunched-over children each morning, inspired not only public indignation, but a kind of personal horror. Here was the ultimate "rationalization" contained in the logic of the Market: all members of the family reduced alike to wage slavery, all human relations, including the most ancient and intimate, dissolved in the cash nexus. Who could refute the logic of it? There was no rationale (within the terms of the Market) for supporting idle, dependent children. There were no ties of economic self-interest to preserve the family. Child labor represented a long step toward that ultimate "anti-utopia" which always seemed to be germinating in capitalist development: a world engorged by the Market, a world without love.”
-Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English, For Her Own Good: 150 Years of the Experts’ Advice to Women
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seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago
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Intellectual property is the currency of the modern age. If you’ve got a brand, a mascot, a cute little doodle you did one day while you were bored at work, it is completely essential that your rights as a creator must be protected. Unfortunately, the way that those rights are protected is that you have to sell it to a giant corporation, which jealously hoards it for centuries after your death. Are you gonna get paid, at least? If you’re lucky, I guess.
If you have a regular job, like zookeeper or assassin, it’s unlikely that the bourgeoisie will continue to exploit you after your death. A dead zookeeper is only good for at most one more tiger feeding, for instance. Corporate artists are going to be admired, emulated, and profiteered from until the sun burns out or future executives figure out that they were weirdly and specifically hyper-racist after all.
Ever since there has been a creative industry, there have been rich people milling around the artists, trying to turn the droppings of their diseased minds into trading cards that can be offered to the shadowy beast that is global commerce. Back in medieval times, this was almost a friendly relationship: a rich person would come by, and pay you to make some shit out of marble. Chances are, they’d stop paying you and then have you murdered as you approached completion of the project, which is why artists evolved the ability to procrastinate, but that’s a whole other story.
Nowadays, making copies of something is a lot easier than going out and hiring a bunch of teenagers who can carve a replica of a marble statue. And that’s got the rich-person class in a tizzy. What does it mean to own some cool shit, if the person who made it can just make a bunch of copies of it and give it away for free to whoever asks for it? How can they be expected to derive some genuine, authentic joy from what is basically a selfless act of creative expression, without getting to charge money for it in all perpetuity? These are the questions of our age, but only because the rich people also control the machine that makes all the questions.
What’s the moral of the story, if you are a creative person selling your efforts to an enormous corporation? You have a duty to be super weird. Whatever is wrong with your brain is not wrong with the profiteers’, according to society, which means you have to be a little more creative in your subversive acts. The ideal goal is to render the thing unusable, like a General Motors product, after at most one generation of humanity. Not only are you getting revenge, but you’re helping future generations: they won’t have to write a sequel to your hit franchise, and can instead make weird shit of their own.
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Request: can you do one where you know when Jody mills calls Bobby about the leviathan being her doctor but can you have it be the little sister ends up in the hospital somehow but she doesn’t know and she wakes up to the guy next to her being eaten and she calls her brothers all drugged up and confused and they’re even more confused because they have no idea how she ended up in the hospital but she’s freaking out like she’s so scared out of her mind and drugged up and not making any sense. They aren’t sure if she’s hallucinating because of the drugs or if it’s really a monster but they have to calm her down and get to her quick. Just make it really detailed and super dramatic thanks!
A/N: Oooo this was so fun and different to write about. I loved this request!! I hope you like reading it. Requests are open like you can literally flood my inbox with them. I love reading all of the requests you all have. Also! Please let me know if you liked this or not. Please be completely honest and if you could comment what you like or what you want me to do differently that would be amazing because it helps me with writing my other stories! Thanks!
I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here. Everything felt fuzzy—like I was underwater. Every thought was muffled, distant. The worst part? The pain. A burning, throbbing ache in my leg, making everything feel wrong.
I opened my eyes and blinked, but the world didn’t make sense. The walls were too white, too clean, and I felt like I was sinking into the bed. My body didn’t feel like mine—it was heavy, sluggish. My arms, my legs, everything felt out of sync, too far away to be real.
I tried to sit up, but that was a mistake. The room spun, and I was falling, falling deeper into a fog I couldn’t escape. A soft, persistent hum buzzed in the air, and I realized it was machines—beeping, whirring, tracking things I couldn’t understand. I tried to focus. The beeping sounded too loud, too close.
My leg—God, my leg. I didn’t even know how it got broken. I couldn’t even remember what had happened.
Something was wrong, though. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this hospital. Not like this.
I turned my head, slowly, carefully. And that’s when I saw him.
A nurse.
And there was something in his eyes—a hunger. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. He was walking to the bed next to me, the one where an older man lay unconscious, connected to an IV. The nurse didn’t seem to care.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, but I kept my eyes on him, blinking slowly to make sure I wasn’t imagining it.
The nurse… he bent down.
And then—he ate him.
The sound was sickening. A wet, slurping noise as the nurse tore into the patient’s body, his hands moving with a grotesque precision. The crunching, tearing, swallowing—it made me gag. My stomach lurched, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even blink.
The man—the patient—was gone. Just… eaten. It wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be. My head was so foggy, my body so numb, but I had to pretend. I couldn’t let him know I was awake.
I held my breath, closing my eyes just as the nurse straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The silence that followed felt worse than the sounds of the feeding. I could hear the faint sound of his boots tapping on the floor, the rustle of fabric as he turned away.
I had to move. I had to get out of here.
I could barely think straight. My mind felt like it was breaking apart. Every thought, every connection between what was real and what wasn’t felt distant, like I was grasping at pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t put together.
The nurse’s footsteps faded, but I didn’t dare open my eyes. What the hell just happened?
The fear that gripped me was suffocating. I needed help and I needed my brothers. They would help me. They needed to know. This had to be a leviathan.
I fumbled for my phone. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in my hands, but somehow I managed to dial Dean’s number. The ringing felt endless, stretching into infinity. But then—click. Dean’s voice crackled through the line.
“Hello?”
“D-Dean!” I gasped, my voice trembling. “I—I don’t know—what’s happening, I—I’m in the hospital… I don’t know how I g-got here, but—my leg—it’s broken, and—and the nurse—he’s a monster, Dean! A monster—he ate the guy next to me!”
I was rambling. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop. My breath was coming too fast, too shallow. I was scared. More scared than I’d ever been.
“What the hell are you talking about, kid?” Dean’s voice was sharp with confusion and concern. “Are you okay? What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I—I don’t know!” My words slurred together, the morphine in my system making it hard to think straight. “I—my leg—he’s a m-monster, Dean! He’s eating people… he ate him... he ate him, Dean... I’m scared—I can’t move! Please—I can’t—”
“Kiddo, listen to me. Hey, slow down, okay?” Dean’s voice turned urgent, his tone low but commanding. “What happened to you? What the hell did they give you? What’s going on?”
“I’m—morphine,” I gasped, choking on the word. “I’m on morphine, and—and everything’s blurry… so blurry... Dean, please—I’m scared. I can’t move… please help me—he’s—he’s coming back, I can’t… I can’t stop him.”
My chest tightened as I whispered, “He’s going to eat me. Please don’t let him eat me.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Dean’s voice cracked, concern and confusion bleeding through. “You’re not making sense, sweetheart. You need to calm down, okay? Tell me exactly where you are. What hospital are you in? We’re coming, okay? Just—calm down, alright?”
I could hear Sam’s voice in the background, muffled, frantic. I wasn’t sure if they were talking to each other or talking to me. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t think. Everything around me was too loud. Too much.
I choked on a sob. “Sioux Falls General... I’m… I’m so scared, Dean, please help me, please... I can’t move... I can’t...”
The line went quiet for a moment, and I couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of my heart. My leg—it hurt so much. The pain was sharp and insistent, but the fear clawed its way through, overwhelming me.
“We’re coming, kid. I need you to take a deep breath for me okay? You’re going to make yourself pass out.”
“I-I can’t…No, no! He ate… He ate him Dean!” You shrieked in pure panic thinking about how you were defenseless against this monster.
“Listen to me sweetheart, you’re going pass out if you continue to panic while you’re all drugged up on whatever they have you on. And you need to stay on alert, you hear me kid?” He asked strongly, fearing for your safety. Not knowing if you were hallucinating because of the drugs or if your nurse really ate the guy next to you.
“No Dean… I need to… I-I need to get out of here. He-he’s going to eat me next. I-I-I don’t want to be e-eaten next! I can’t… I don’t want…” I continued to ramble as I sat up in the hospital bed. The room was spinning and my head was heavy. My leg was burning with every movement I made, but I had to get away.
“No, no—stay still!” Dean barked through the phone, the panic in his voice making my stomach churn. “Don’t move, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”
But I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t stop. I had to get out of here.
With every ounce of strength I could muster, I tried to push myself up, to stand. My body refused to cooperate. The pain in my broken leg was excruciating, but I tried anyway, dragging my leg beneath me. I could feel the cold tile of the floor, but when I pushed with my arms, I collapsed, hitting the floor with a thud. My phone flung out of my hand, the crackle of the line still alive, but all I could hear was the pounding of my pulse and the tightness in my chest.
“Stop! Stop moving!” Dean screamed through the phone. “You’re gonna hurt yourself, stay still!”
I whimpered in pain, unable to focus, my vision swimming. The air felt thick with tension, but I couldn’t stop.
“I—I have to go… I have to get away,” I muttered through shallow, desperate breaths.
“We’re almost there kid, hang in there.” He reassured. I tried to move my body, but it felt like I was stuck in cement. My body felt too heavy, everything felt weak and there was an excruciating pain throbbing through my leg.
“De,” I whimpered, trying to pull myself forward. “Please, help me... please.” I cried with one last plea, hoping he would be able to hear me.
Then, just as I thought I might pass out from the pain and fear, Dean’s sharp voice cut through the phone in a loud muffled yell.
“We’re here, we’re coming kid.”
But, I couldn’t hold on anymore. My eyes fluttered, and I was floating in darkness.
The cold floor beneath me felt distant, and the pain in my leg was nothing but an echo now, a far-off sensation as I drifted away. The last thing I remembered was Dean’s frantic voice cutting through the fog—his words slurred and muffled as if I were listening through thick glass.
Then everything went black.
When I finally opened my eyes again, it wasn’t the blurry, distant world I had been seeing earlier. No, this time the world came crashing back at once, sharp and too bright. The ceiling above me was white, too white, and the sounds of footsteps echoed around me, too loud, too real.
“Y/N!” Sam’s voice broke through the haze, and I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. “Hey, hey, wake up. Stay with us.”
I tried to focus on him, but everything felt so far away. My body felt limp, my arms and legs like lead. My breath came in shallow bursts, and every movement sent pain pulsing through me—through my leg, through my chest, through my very soul. I didn’t want to open my eyes, didn’t want to move. I was so tired, so weak.
“Come on, sweetheart, don’t do this to us,” Sam pleaded, his voice tight with concern. “You’re okay. We’re here.”
But I couldn’t feel okay. Not with what had just happened. The nurse. The monster. He ate the man. He ate him, and I was next. My mind was racing, panic bubbling up from the pit of my stomach. I had to tell them. They had to know what I saw. They had to believe me.
I gasped, a strangled sob escaping my lips as I tried to push myself up again, but my limbs were sluggish, weak. “The nurse,” I murmured, voice hoarse, still feeling the remnants of the drugs fogging my thoughts. “He ate him... he ate him, Sam.” My voice broke as tears welled up, slipping down the sides of my face.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” Sam said quickly, his hands on my shoulders, trying to ground me. “It’s alright. Just breathe.”
But I couldn’t. The panic was too much. The fear was too loud in my head, a relentless drumbeat. I reached out blindly, my trembling hand landing on his arm as I pointed toward the bed where the older man had been lying. The bed was empty now, the sheets torn and soaked with blood. The air smelled thick, metallic.
“He ate him,” I whispered again, my eyes wide, unblinking. “The nurse… he ate him, Sam. Look! Look at the blood.”
Dean’s voice shot out from behind Sam, low and serious, though I could hear the panic beneath it. “Son of a bitch.”
I saw him stand there, his face tight with grim determination, his gun holstered but his hand resting on it like he was ready for anything. Sam turned his head, following my trembling finger to the bed, his expression shifting from confusion to dawning horror. “Oh, God,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s... that’s blood.”
Dean cursed again, his words low but harsh. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here, now.”
“I can’t— I can’t move… Sam, please... please don’t let him get me. Please—”
I was shaking now, my body trembling so violently it felt like I might shatter. Sam’s eyes flicked to Dean for just a moment—silent communication passing between them. Then, in a flash, Sam was at my side, his arms under mine, lifting me up despite my weak protests.
“Come on, bug. We’re getting you out of here,” Sam said firmly, his voice a lifeline, though the urgency was clear. “I know you’re scared, I know, but you’ve got to trust us. We’re going.”
Dean was already moving, glancing back at us as he pushed through the door. “We need to move. Now, Sam. Leviathan or not, we need to get out.”
“I—I can’t move!” I whimpered, struggling in Sam’s arms. My body felt like it was made of stone, too heavy, too weak to be useful. “Please, don’t let him—”
“Y/N, stop,” Sam’s voice was sharp, though gentle as he tried to steady me, his grip tightening around my torso as he began walking with me. “He’s not here. He’s not getting you. We’re getting out of here, okay? You’re going to be fine.” He reassured. He understood that it was all the drugs that were coursing through my body that were making me ramble and panic even more than I already was.
I clung to Sam, my heart hammering in my chest, my hands gripping his jacket as if it was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. My mind felt like it was on the verge of splitting in two. My thoughts raced, fragments of fear and confusion cutting through me like shards of glass. The nurse. The blood. The teeth. It was all real, wasn’t it? But my body didn’t respond the way I needed it to. My legs dragged, and Sam had to practically carry me as I whimpered in his arms.
Dean was already ahead, scanning the hallway with a sharp, practiced eye. “It’s too quiet,” he muttered under his breath. “Too damn quiet.”
Sam looked back at me, worry darkening his features as he walked faster, picking up the pace. “Stay with us, bug. We’re almost out, okay?”
But the fear was overwhelming. The memory of that nurse’s eyes—those predatory eyes—still haunted me. I couldn’t shake it. The taste of panic was suffocating, and I couldn’t form the words to explain how terrified I was, how close I had been to being next.
As Sam carried me down the hallway, I caught sight of a door at the far end—an exit. I didn’t think. My hand shot out toward it, my voice barely a whisper, my throat tight with terror. “The door... we have to get out... please, please—”
Sam’s eyes darted to the exit, and he nodded sharply. “We’re going. Don’t worry.”
But as we reached the exit, I could hear the sound of footsteps behind us, heavy and deliberate. And the last thing I remembered was Dean pulling open the door, Sam running with me in his arms, the air rushing past us as we bolted into the night.
I had no idea if the leviathan was still following us, if it was still out there. All I knew was that I was alive. And that, for the moment, was enough.
But the fear was far from gone.
The drugs were slowly wearing off, and the fog that had once clouded everything was beginning to lift, leaving a sharp, uncomfortable clarity behind. My head throbbed, a dull ache spreading from the base of my skull to my temples. My leg—God, my leg—still felt broken, but it was less of an overwhelming, burning pain now. The morphine had done its job, but now, as it faded, the sharp reality of everything came rushing back.
I blinked against the light streaming through the car window, the movement of the world outside making me dizzy. Sam’s steady presence beside me was a balm I didn’t know I needed. His arm was around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, grateful for the steady comfort he was offering.
“You’re doing alright,” Sam murmured, his voice low and soothing, like he was trying to keep me tethered to this moment, to us. He’d been so calm with me the whole time—his voice, his touch, everything about him felt like a safe harbor in a storm.
I nodded weakly, swallowing hard. “I… I think I’m okay. Just… my head…my leg. It’s hurting.”
“You’re just coming down from the morphine,” he said gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “It’ll pass. Just breathe through it sweetheart, alright?”
I nodded again, trying to focus on his words, trying to force my breathing to steady. But the memories came flooding back: the nurse, the man he’d eaten, the absolute terror that had made my body freeze, unable to move or scream. The monster. And the idea of being his next meal still made my stomach twist.
I opened my mouth to say something, but the words caught in my throat, too jumbled and confused to form any kind of sentence.
“Shh,” Sam whispered, sensing my distress before I even had a chance to speak. He gave me a small, comforting squeeze. “You’re safe now. We’re almost at Bobby’s. Just hold on a little longer.”
I closed my eyes, leaning into him even more, trying to let the rhythm of the car and his steady voice lull me into some semblance of peace. The panic still had its claws in me, but Sam was holding me together, piece by piece. Slowly, I felt the tension in my body begin to loosen.
The car pulled into a familiar gravel driveway, and I heard the engine cut off. Dean’s voice sounded from the front seat as he turned to look at us.
“We’re here, kid,” he said, his voice rough with worry. He’d been quiet for most of the ride, his protective instinct kicking in full force. “You okay?”
I blinked, trying to gather my bearings, and gave him a weak smile. “Yeah… yeah, I think so. Just… just need a minute.”
Dean nodded, not needing to say anything more. He got out of the car first, quickly moving to the back to open the door and help me out.
Sam gently helped me sit up, his arms steadying me as I tried to move. I winced from the ache in my leg, but both Sam and Dean were right there, supporting me. They were a rock, a constant that I could rely on.
“Alright hey, it’s just a few steps,” Dean said softly, guiding me out of the car. “We’ll get you inside, and then you can rest.”
As he helped me out, his eyes were scanning the surroundings, always alert, always ready. The familiar scent of Bobby’s place—wood, dust, a faint trace of oil—was comforting, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I could exhale.
Once inside, Bobby’s house was a welcome sight. It was small, cozy even, with bookshelves crammed with every possible lore book, every map and weapon that a hunter might need. The air smelled like aged leather and history, and as soon as we stepped inside, Bobby’s gravelly voice greeted us from the living room.
“What the hell happened?”
I gave him a weak smile, the exhaustion creeping up on me. “I… I don’t even know.”
Bobby’s gaze softened when he saw my pale face and the tight way I was holding myself. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable. Sam—grab her some water.”
Dean gently helped me to the couch, sitting beside me with an arm around my shoulders. “You okay, kid?” he asked again, his voice softer now, as the adrenaline of the ride began to fade.
I let out a shaky breath, still feeling the aftermath of the fear that had been gripping me so tightly. “I don’t know,” I whispered, feeling more vulnerable than I ever had in my life. “I saw him… I saw that nurse… he ate that guy, Dean. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Dean’s arm tightened around me. “I know you’re scared, but you’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Sam returned with a glass of water, handing it to me gently. “Drink,” he said, his voice still carrying that edge of protectiveness. “You need to hydrate, bug. Don’t think we’re letting you out of our sight anytime soon.”
I took a slow sip, the coolness of the water helping to ground me.
Bobby came over, a concerned frown on his face as he took a seat in the armchair across from me. “So, you’re telling me that nurse... was a Leviathan?”
I swallowed hard, nodding. “I think so. I saw the hunger in his eyes… and he ate that man, Bobby. He ate him, like... like he was nothing.”
Bobby cursed softly under his breath. “Damn. That’s not good. We’re gonna have to figure out a way to deal with this.”
“I don’t want to go back out there,” I whispered, my voice so small that I barely recognized it as my own. “I don’t ever want to see that thing again.”
“We won’t let him get you. We won’t let him hurt anyone else.”
I felt myself nodding slowly, the weight of my panic starting to ease just a little. I was still rattled, my thoughts still spinning in circles, but in this moment, with Sam and Dean here, with Bobby’s solid presence in the room, I could almost feel the safety I so desperately needed.
“We’ll figure this out, bug.” Sam said quietly, his usual bravado replaced with a rare tenderness. “You’re not alone in this. We’re all in this together.”
I leaned my head against Dean’s shoulder, my breath slowly beginning to even out. For the first time in what felt like days, I let myself relax, letting the tension in my body ease, just a little.
As much as I wanted to forget everything that had happened—wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen a monster eat someone right in front of me—I knew that wasn’t going to happen. But for now, in Bobby’s safe house, with my brothers beside me, I could breathe. I was safe. And that was enough. For now, it would have to be.
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fatehbaz · 8 months ago
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They’ve built a “Great Wheel” on the Seattle waterfront [...].
The small timber village became a military outpost in the Puget Sound War [...], [and] soon evolved into a trade gateway, with timber tailings and other industrial trash from Henry Yesler’s mill used to fill in the marshlands [...], atop which migrant laborers raised tents and shanties [...] now working to feed raw materials into the furnaces of the Second Industrial Revolution burning in the East. [...] The first nationwide strike ripped across the country’s railways in 1877, but in Seattle the unrest took on a grim character, as thousands of unemployed white workers rioted against their Chinese counterparts [...]. Meanwhile, [...] local elites rebuilt [...] downtown [...] from scratch, hosting the tallest building on the West Coast alongside other new constructs [fueled] with money gleaned from the supply chains linking eastern capital to Alaskan gold. [...] Today the city - again rebuilt [...] - is seen as one of the primary beneficiaries of the “Fifth” Industrial Revolution in information technology, outshone only by California’s Silicon Valley. [...] The digital was increasingly thought of as somehow "immaterial," sustained by intellectual labor more than physical toil [...].
Silicon Valley myths of [...] "immaterial" labor disguise a more gruesome dynamic in which growing segments of the global labor force are being deprived even of the basic brutality of the wage, instead forced out into growing rings of slums, prisons, and global wastelands. [...]
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Perched alongside a downtown business corridor [...], Seattle's Great Wheel seems to peer out over [...] [the] prophesied “cooperative commons,” an infotech metropolis abutting the beauty of an evergreen arcadia. But travel below Seattle’s cluster of infotech industries and the image appears much the same as that of a hundred years prior - a trade gateway, squeezing value from supply chains by selling transport and logistical support. The southern stretch of the metropolis bears little resemblance to the revitalized urban core of the city proper. Instead of the “cognitive labor” of Microsoft, it is defined instead by the cold calculation of companies like UPS, founded in Seattle when the city was one link in a colonial supply chain built first for timber, then Alaskan gold, then World War. [...]
In south Seattle, this logistics empire takes the form of faceless warehouses, food processing facilities, container trucks, rail yards, and industrial parks concentrated between two seaports, an international airport, three major interstates, and railroads traveling in all directions. Meanwhile, the poor have been priced out of the old inner city, moving southward [...]. [T]hey can be found staffing the airport and the rail yards, hauling cargo in and out of two the major seaports, loading boxes in warehouses [...]. And, beyond them, the shadow stretches out to Washington’s rural hinterlands where migrant laborers staff a new boom in agriculture and raw materials [...] - and further still into America’s long-depressed interior, where the Great Wheel meets its opposite: Memphis, the FedEx logistics city, watched over by a great black pyramid [the infamous Bass Pro Shop pyramid]. [...]
Every Seattle is capable of creating an eco-friendly, “cooperative commonwealth” tended by apps and algorithms only insofar as there is a Memphis that can provide human workers to sort the packages, a Shanghai to build the containers that carry them, and a Shenzhen to solder together the circuits of the machines that govern it all.
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All text above by: Phil A. Neel. "The Great Wheel". Brooklyn Rail. April 2015. Published online at: brooklynrail.org/2015/04/field-notes/the-great-wheel. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Text within brackets added by me for clarity. Presented here for commentary, teaching, personal use, criticism purposes.]
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darklydeliciousdesires · 8 months ago
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Improper - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.
Ahhh, this took me back to my youth, besties, writing the experience of a first time with a first love! So yes, as I mentioned yesterday, this features a young!Luca, he and reader both losing their virginity to one another ahead of their wedding. Because they're naughty. Haha! Enjoy :)
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Words - 3,750
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
He was always the handsomest boy in school, with the darkest hair and the most irresistible, peridot flecked eyes, the Italian blood running through his veins giving him something extra where appearance was concerned. Nobody else looked anything like Luca Changretta. He was tall, too. Even at twelve when you both left the classroom behind, but god, what four years did to that handsome boy, turning him into the most gorgeous young man you’d ever laid eyes upon.  
He knew it, too. Knew what he had. Knew he looked more like a twenty-year-old than a kid of sixteen. Knew there were grown women in their early twenties who – as they put it - ‘wouldn’t half give that Changretta lad a run for his money, I can tell you!’ as they viewed him with lust in their eyes, their improper thoughts spoken in hushed whisper. After all, for a lady to speak that is wholly uncouth, but you could scarcely blame them. He is magnificently handsome. 
Luca doesn’t want them, though. His desire only has eyes for one. You.  
Mills & Floss is a small factory operation right on the boundary between Small Heath and Bordesley Green, where you’ve found work as a sewing machine operative. From seven in the morning until four in the afternoon, your fingers feed delicate fabrics into a sewing machine. Curtains, tablecloths, cushion covers, everything relating to home furnishings. It’s tedious work, but it’s a wage, a few vital shillings to go towards your mother’s pot at the end of every week to pay your keep.  
In your household, you either worked or you married. The latter was going to happen, too, your parents and Luca’s arranging everything, a summer wedding scheduled for that year of 1896. With just weeks to wait, it will be simply wonderful; no longer seeing him under the supervision of a chaperone, free to do whatever you want with the boy who has enamoured you completely.  
What you want above all? Well, it’s what all young people wish for secretly, beneath the veil of modesty and properness. As it turns out, you will receive it much sooner than your wedding night, too.  
“’Ere! Your young man is waiting for you outside, (Y/N)!”  
Your head shoots up from where you’ve been retying your bootlace, the boom of Victoria, the loudest of the sewing machine operatives reaching you from the window she peers out of. Bustling over to her side, your grin widens in an instant to see your love there, the women all cooing softly as they notice the rosy blush flushing your cheeks.  
“No chaperone either, ooh! Now there’s a thing!” Elsie, a girl of your age whispers, all the women giggling. 
You wave a dismissive hand. “There is bound to be one. His cousin will be milling around somewhere, he always is.” Indeed, your meetings with Luca are always supervised, that supervision usually coming in the form of both of your parents when the families meet for dinner, or Fabrizio, Luca’s cousin, who watches you both like a hawk should Luca call to court you away from either of the family homes.  
Even a simple stroll around the centre of Birmingham, or a visit to the park to spectate at the band stand, and you must be escorted by a third.  
It is a surprise to have your love meet you from work, even more so that when you peer into the street below, there is no sign of Fabrizio. You were expecting them both a little later to call upon you at home, Luca mentioning something about a walk to the local boating lake.  
“He’s probably gone to buy cigarettes.” You decree, feeling a little uncomfortable about the connotations of it, your love waiting for you with no chaperone in sight. What would people think? Moving away, you collect your little lacy shawl and wrap it around your shoulders, lifting your dress as you take the stairs down to the bottom floor, past the rows of sewing machines now come to a still, the factory about to close for the day.  
“Afternoon,” Luca greets you with casually, chewing on a matchstick nonchalantly, removing it to take your hand and kiss it. “You look beautiful, as always.” 
Oh, his charm. He’d be insufferable with that little slither of arrogance, if he wasn’t so damned cute with it, too. It's the little hint of boy there still lurking within the tall, gorgeous young man that sets your heart to flutter every single time.  
“Thank you,” you smile, “and you appear to be missing a cousin.”  
The way his lips curl into a grin has your insides melting. He never fails to make you swoon. “I am. Do you want to know what else I’m missing?” he asks, loosely draping his arms around your waist. 
“Go on,” you urge. 
He leans to your ear, fingers teasing a little circle over the boning of your bodice. “Parents at my house. They’re out until later tonight, Angel is god knows where, so I have an empty house and beautiful girl I want to take back to enjoy it in.”  
Your gasp has him laughing softly. “Luca! You don’t mean...” 
“I do.” He continues to laugh as you take his arm, walking away from the factory. “You need to stop with that prim and proper demeanour. When Fabrizio left us alone last time, the way you kissed me said loud and clear exactly what you wanted.”  
You can’t help but tease a little in the face of his cockiness. “And what do I want, Luca?” 
“Me,” he begins, leaning in close, “naked against you, pushing my nice, thick cock right up into your...” 
“That’s enough!” A slap hits his chest, your love laughing loudly. “At least in public.”  
Those words put a definite spring in his step as you walk towards the horse tram stop. Luca’s house isn’t too far, but with an added urgency to return, a faster means of transportation than mere feet upon cobblestones is required. He pays for you both while you greet the two beautiful, black shire horses with a stroke upon their velvety muzzles, climbing aboard to sit at the rear.  
The tram moves off after a few more people have climbed aboard, and for the entire duration of the journey, you are beside yourself with nerves and excitement in equal measures. Sex before marriage is scandalous, shocking behaviour, definitely not to be partaken of. Your love is not the type of man to be so dissuaded, though. He’s rebellious through and through, and that in itself makes it all the more exciting.  
You’re about to go and partake in something very enjoyable; the reality that you both know you shouldn’t be doing it only adds to the thrill. As does the fact that he sits with his hand rested upon your thigh, fingertips gently squeezing.  
“I can’t wait to take this dress off of you, peel away your underwear and kiss you all over, my sweet amore,” he whispers, kissing the side of your neck, making you shiver as you try not to grin. There’s an older woman sitting nearby, looking at you both with utter distain for such public displays of affection. “And I do mean all over.” 
To kiss him right now would be enough, but hearing how he wants to place his mouth all over you has heat gently misting your skin, the confidence he shows over what’s about to happen adding to the heady rush. He’s never done it before, or at least if he has, he fibbed to you when he said that he hadn’t.  
He speaks with all the confidence of a man who has enjoyed a woman, though, and goodness how it turns your senses inside out. It makes you feel daring and full of zest, enough to take your fan from the small bag you carry and flick it open, giving yourself a liberal wafting before holding it in front of your face, boldness ensnaring you, pulling him into a heated kiss behind it.  
Those kisses have you tingling between your thighs, his tongue nudging and swirling with yours, pulling away from him before it gets a little too heated. You shan’t disgrace yourself publicly, although the move did attract a few negative eyes. All except for one lady, surprisingly the most elderly upon the horse tram, who chuckles to herself as you blush a little.  
“Oh, ‘tis young love!” she admonishes the whispers of the other passengers. “Leave them be, for heaven’s sake!” Shaking her head, she turns to you. “These pompous women here, acting as if they never kissed a boy behind a fan. I certainly did when I was a girl.” She then stands, smoothing her billowing skirt, ready to alight. “Enjoy your afternoon, my darlings.”  
“We will.” Luca chimes brightly, nudging your side. Oh, he truly is pure devilment. Those women still view him with utter distain, your love smirking, eyeing them back with defiance until they look away. They’ve picked the wrong lad here, if they wished for him to feel shame. You’re quite certain that Luca doesn’t know the meaning of the word.  
Four stops later and you are climbing from the tram, taking his arm once more and walking a little further up Coventry Road, towards the townhouse the Changretta family call home. It is a stark difference to your own residence, your family not poor but not as wealthy as his, your home above the pub your parents run much less spacious. Luca even has his own bedroom, a foreign concept to you entirely, having to share with your younger sisters.  
That bedroom is where he takes you after entering the empty house, removing your boots at the door as per Luca’s mother’s wishes, passed on through him. The anticipation ramps up with every step you take up the steep staircase, your heart thrumming as the nervousness of it winds through your belly.  
Entering the room, you glance around, taking in your surroundings. The bed is actually a double, Luca having told you that already, that he enjoys spreading out as he sleeps so nagged his mother into it. It’ll be coming with you to your new home once you are married, along with all the dark, carved wooden furniture. Vincente and Audrey have been very generous in purchasing a little back-to-back for you to begin married life in, and you cannot wait until you are carried over the threshold in your wedding dress. 
The only dress on your mind at the moment is the one your love’s hands smooth over as he stands behind you, fingers pattering over the fastening of your bodice as you remove your shawl, feeling the lacings binding you tightly begin to loosen. He pauses, and you feel him stiffen a little. He’s never undressed somebody before, of course.  
Turning to him, you reach behind yourself, loosening the fastenings further, allowing you to wiggle yourself free of the tight restrictions, pulling the ribbon that ties your underskirt as well, the masses of fabric pooling in a froth around your ankles as you step from them. His eyes ink with lust at seeing you there before him only in undergarments, your hands still toying, unhooking your brassiere before revealing your breasts to his hungry eyes.  
“I think the rest should be easy enough for you to take off yourself,” you speak, reaching for him.  
His hands roam over your skin for the first time, and your heart pangs a little to feel them tremble against you, a little slip in the bravado he’s show so far. Unless those shudders are excited energy. Perhaps a little of both as he steps nearer, nuzzling you softly before his mouth covers yours.  
The kisses you share are urgent, but not frantic, building steadily as you move with him to the bed. He sheds his jacket, your hands taking up the task of undoing his tie and shirt, the movements all a little awkward as he removes your undergarments. Seeing what lies beneath his clothes is a sight that you shall never forget, a beautiful, lean body ridged with slender muscles, smatterings of dark hair flecking his chest and belly, his light olive skin celestial soft and blemish free.  
Your hands explore him, nails softly grazing, your lips pressing kisses against his chest. His skin is hot, sumptuous in feel, shaky hands wandering as you finally dare to lower your gaze. Oh, wow. So that’s what a cock looks like, swollen and hard, begging for your hand as it bobs a little. You’ve no clue what on earth to do with it, but the grasp and gentle tug as your fingers close around it pulls a soft groan from him.  
He remains standing as you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, your hand running from the base to tip of him, tongue licking over the line of dark hair running down from his navel. A shy smile spreads across your mouth, tongue circling his navel, watching the way his hips tremble. You have him at your mercy, and the brand-new sensation of sexual power over him is a strong current that runs right through you.
“If you wanted to put your mouth where your hand is, I wouldn’t stop you,” he speaks, voice deepened a few octaves, that gravelled rasp making your cunt twitch.  
Humming a chuckle, you flicker a lick over the head of him, his breath catching in his throat. “I bet you wouldn’t.” Participation is learning, you figure, guiding that silky skin covered steel to your lips and closing them around the head, sucking gently, his knees almost buckling. A little more pressure has him panting, his hands tangling in your hair, pulling the combs that keep it in its neat updo free to tumble, groaning as he watches himself vanish in your mouth.  
“Fuck,” he grits, the cuss making your insides tighten pleasantly, “that’s so fucking good.” His praise spurs you, pausing to trail your tongue all over his hardness, your nails gently grazing his chest. You can feel his heart pounding hard, excitement that you are the one evoking such tingling over your bones as your eyes find his.  
“I love the way it feels in my mouth. It’s bloody beautiful. I’ve heard the girls at work call them ugly, but yours isn’t.” You praise, licking the head with a little flicker, his moans deepening so much, you do it again. Trembles wrack his muscles, goose pimples rising over his skin, his hips beginning to sway back and forth, cusses falling from his mouth upon every groan until he pulls away suddenly, pushing you back onto the bed. 
“Feels too good. Don't want to be spent before it’s even begun.” His lips meet yours, his body pinning you down into the bed, the heat of his skin wickedly beautiful as it presses to your nakedness. Hands and mouths wander, the exploration so shiny and new, flocks of butterflies blooming into flight in your belly, his mouth delivering keen kisses to your neck.  
You inhale a sharp breath to feel the heat of his mouth suck upon your nipple, Luca shifting off you a little, access to stroke your body granted as his hand lowers, your thighs parting. That first stroke through your folds causes the breath to hitch in your throat, his lips finding yours, both panting against the kisses you share. You almost feel shame at how wet you are, a little embarrassed at the keenness your body shows, but the way his fingers feel as they glide over the silky petals of your cunt quickly diminish that.  
He plays with you gently, each stroke lowering, a finger breaching you. You feel beautiful to him, slick and hot, heavenly upon the inside as your walls pulse upon his finger, adding a second, slowly pushing them back and forth. The pleasure of it darts hot beneath your skin, the sensation of a part of him within you, the intimacy of it, stroking his face as your hips buck up against his touch. On instinct, his fingers curl a little, and it sends lightning flickering up your spine, whimpering as he kisses your neck, his mouth descending as his body shifts down the bed.  
His eyes shine with arousal as he finally reaches your sex, his fingers replaced, steering a firm lick between your folds. You whimper, that first contact so good, your legs close tightly around his head. 
“Sorry,” you offer as he pushes them apart, Luca laughing quietly against the slick wet of you. 
“At least I know you like it.” There’s an upside to being clamped between two thighs, you suppose. Another lick gilds you, sends warmth rushing over your skin, especially when you feel his tongue nudge at your little bud, your back arching as you gasp. 
“There,” you pant, practically writhing before him. “Oh, right there!” 
He seeks it, the tip of his tongue snaking back and forth, smiling as your reaction delights his ears, those sweet moans and cries like celestial music. He can’t get enough of how you feel against his mouth, the taste of you intoxicating as he laves thirstily, sucking, kissing your tender nub, tongue flicking over you, your nails trawling his scalp as he gives you exactly what you crave. The nectar of your cunt floods his tongue, and it makes his heart skip a beat, the intimacy of it, how much it arouses him to have his mouth all over your most sacred of places, the noises it draws from you making his cock throb. 
“You taste beautiful.” he murmurs, arms winding beneath your thighs, gripping them, treating your aqueous slit to long, firm licks, evoking quivers that shiver you from head to toe. He grants no clemency from the hypnotic beat of his tongue over your bud, tasting your hot, pink folds with swirls and flickers as you gush onto his lips.
You twitch against each lick, every carefully administered circling of his hungry tongue, your hands gripping his slender shoulders, your hips keening against the utter glory of what his mouth conjures. He draws cusses from you as you pant, your body spasming so hard as he begins to suck your bud that you’re unsure if your response is of pulling away or shunting closer, crying out as you’re eaten with ruinous gusto.    
He’s certainly thriving on doing this, and lord, how it shows. 
He has you beginning to spark against each well-placed lick, his mouth making you tighten, your walls in full clench, only sated by the arrival of his fingers into your slick, raking firmly, a smile playing his lips as he watches you tremble.    
The heat of his mouth has you literally melting for him, Luca panting against your dewy folds as he assails your clit with firm circles, driving out pleasure from the very root of you, skittering through you as your hips purl and flex, the waves of your release washing over you ceaselessly, leaving you a panting, shaking wreck. So, that’s what it feels like to come for somebody. Goodness, it felt like absolutely nothing else you could ever compare it to.  
Pulling his head from between your legs, you fight for breath, your love leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses up your body until he’s claiming your lips once more. Reaching between you, he positions his cock at your still fluttering opening, nuzzling you sweetly, pushing until he slips in with ease.  
Your body tenses for a second, expecting pain. You’ve heard that the first time hurts, but you feel absolutely nothing even remotely close to discomfort at taking him inside you, stroking one another tenderly as you kiss, your mutual gaze so loving and fond.  
“Ahhh, fuck. You feel incredible,” he groans, stroking your face. “Does it feel okay? Not hurting you, am I, amore?”  
His care touches you deeply, running your fingers through his soft, dark hair. “No, you feel perfect. You and your beautiful cock.” you chirp, making him laugh softly, that chuckle turning into a groan as he pushes a little deeper, filling you. The warm pool of syrupy heat bathing his cock sends little shocks skittering through him, the feel unlike anything else, ecstasy raining comets to burn his blood as those same little hails of light flicker through you.  
It's a sensual, blooming rush of pleasure, your arms entwining one another, your bodies moving a little awkwardly together to begin with until the rise and fall is met with perfect sync, his mouth placing tender kisses at your neck. Every ridge of his cock scraping against your tender walls feels wickedly decadent, pleasure coiling tightly, his body quickening as you wrap your legs around his slender waist, nails digging into his back. 
“Oh my god, yes, fuck me!” you wail, clutching on around him as he pounds you into the bed, head lowering to suck your nipple with a deep, gritty groan. The heat of it burns like a furnace, that pleasure winding ever tighter as you feel yourself escalating, your nails grazing down his back as your spine-melting release rushes like a spring breeze over your nerves. It’s white hot and consuming, feeling his cock twitching as his teeth clamp on your nipple and he floods your cunt with cum, leaving you dizzy and panting.  
It feels like your entire body is a garden bursting into bloom beneath him, the sweetness of your release still tingling through you as you kiss him, feeling his cock gently twitching within the snug clasp of your sodden cunt. Oh, how you can barely wait to be his wife, and enjoy what you just did with him whenever you want to. You must admit, though, the fact that you shouldn’t have done it was half the fun of having sex with him in the first place.  
Still, nothing can take the sheen of it away. That sheen lasts right up until your wedding day, hardly able to wait until he carries you across the threshold of your new home, placing you down in the lounge.  
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he sighs against your neck, unfastening your wedding gown. 
You can’t help a little sarcasm. “Oh yes, those three weeks truly were an eternity, weren’t they?” 
“Shut up,” he chides, slapping your bum. “Of course, they were. I knew how good what I had waiting for me was.” 
It’s even better the second time around.  
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valtsv · 1 year ago
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Do you have any favourite fitzier fanfics :3c
yeah alright:
to be as one is (series) by TheGoodDoctor (rating: G, T) (this one deals a lot with gender and self identity and never fails to make me smile no matter how rotten i'm feeling)
Through by robokittens (E) (one of the tags on this fic is "spiritual woundfucking" and i feel like that recommends this fic better than i can in my own words)
oh you pretty things by wildcard_47 (T) (one of many 'Francis buys James a dress' fics, but this one stood out to me because the dialogue and prose is just so thoroughly delightful to read)
The Shipmaster's Song by ripeteeth (T) (what if... we were shipwrecks at the bottom of the ocean... and we were both doomed polar explorers...)
Sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by for_autumn_i_am (E) (a 'what if Carnivale didn't go up in literal smoke' au where everything aches with the promise of future tragedy but still manages to be heartwarming)
an unexpected gift by aes3plex (G) (JFJ meets Francis' extensive family. all of this author's works are incredible but this one was my favorite, equal parts charming and heartwrenching.)
twin high maintenance machines by veganthranduil (E) (obligatory 'the one where they both have erectile dysfunction but they still try to make it work' fic; selected this one specifically for the equal parts delightfully and painfully in character dialogue.)
Swallow by Daucus (T) ('gross' intimacy my beloved. you know the scene in Princess Mononoke where San feeds Ashitaka when he's too weak to care for himself so that he'll survive and heal? well that rewired MY brain and this is the fitzier version.)
burnt-out match in a dark room by deadgreeks (T) (marriage/death parallels and the intimacy of performing someone's last funeral rites. this one's a 'keep a pack of tissues on hand just in case' one.)
singing even so by shortcrust (T) (Orpheus and Eurydice in the Arctic. had me staring blankly into space and hugging myself as if chilled for nearly an hour after i finished it.)
The Gunner's Daughter by reinetta (E) (the most gorgeously written and romantic depiction of a sadomasochistic scene i've ever had the pleasure of reading)
Da mi basia mille, deinde centum by anactoriatalksback (M) (makeout fic, but calling it a "makeout fic" is so vastly underselling this. the plot is literally "they make out", but you will be hanging on to every word and astonished by the amount of character study that the author manages to pack into that premise.)
Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself by 5runner5 (M) (PTSD recovery fic in a pre-PTSD recognition era, and by far my favorite for how honest it is about the difficult reality of communication and recovery in a relationship)
shall warmer, sweeter be by baestard (T) (a wonderful exploration of transgender identity and self-discovery that remains impressively period accurate. or: 'what if we survived the arctic and we were both girls'.)
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hermmachinery · 9 months ago
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8-12T/H Feed Mill Plant Installation in Ethiopia
Ethiopia is a country where agriculture serves as a primary economic pillar, with poultry and cattle playing significant roles in agricultural production. Poultry and cattle farming are major sources of livelihood for farmers and important economic sources for many households in Ethiopia.
In Ethiopia, poultry and cattle farming are primarily concentrated in rural areas. Farmers raise chickens and cattle to meet their families' food and economic needs. Chicken meat and eggs are among the main sources of protein for the Ethiopian people, while cattle provide important products such as milk, meat, and leather.
However, despite the potential and importance of poultry and cattle farming in Ethiopia, the industry still faces several challenges, including:
1. Lack of infrastructure: Many rural areas lack adequate poultry and cattle farming infrastructure, such as feed processing plants, veterinary clinics, and refrigeration facilities, which limits the development of the industry.
2. Diseases and epidemics: The poultry and cattle farming industry is threatened by diseases and epidemics such as avian influenza and cattle plague, which have significant impacts on production and the economy.
3. Shortage of feed supply: Feed supply shortages are another challenge for Ethiopia's poultry and cattle farming industry. Farmers often face problems such as rising feed prices and unstable supply.
However, the Ethiopian government and international organizations are taking measures to support the development of poultry and cattle farming. By providing technical training, improving infrastructure, strengthening disease surveillance, and promoting farmer organizations, efforts are being made to address the challenges faced by the industry, promote its sustainable development, and provide better livelihoods and economic opportunities for farmers.
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Our company has successfully provided a poultry and cattle feed production line with a capacity of 8-12T/H for a client in Ethiopia. After over 60 days of careful preparation and production, the poultry and cattle feed production line is fully prepared for operation. This is a challenging and significant project, and at every stage, we have focused on meeting the client's needs and providing the best solutions and services.
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After the successful production and delivery of the poultry feed production line, we immediately organized a team of two experienced engineers to assist the client with the installation and commissioning of the production line. These engineers not only have solid technical knowledge and rich practical experience but also excellent communication and teamwork skills, enabling them to work closely with the client to address various technical and operational issues.
During the installation process, the engineers prioritized quality and efficiency, conducted a comprehensive assessment of the site conditions, formulated detailed installation plans for the poultry and cattle feed production line and discussed with the client and liaison personnel to ensure that the installation work proceeded smoothly. For possible shortages of tools and manpower, the engineers prepared detailed lists in advance and communicated extensively with the client to ensure that the required resources were available promptly.
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During the installation process, the engineers prioritized quality and efficiency, conducted a comprehensive assessment of the site conditions, formulated detailed installation plans for the poultry and cattle feed production line and discussed with the client and liaison personnel to ensure that the installation work proceeded smoothly. For possible shortages of tools and manpower, the engineers prepared detailed lists in advance and communicated extensively with the client to ensure that the required resources were available promptly.
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It is worth mentioning that during the installation process, we actively communicated and cooperated with local governments and media. The local government attached great importance to our poultry and cattle feed production line project and organized visits to provide full recognition and approval of our technical and management capabilities. At the same time, the local media extensively covered our project, bringing more exposure and publicity to our brand and business.
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Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd was established in 2010 and has been devoted to the research and development of Feed Mill Machinery ever since. With more than 10 years of experience, Herm® has become a leading manufacturer and supplier of animal feed machines and complete animal feed production lines, cattle feed plants, poultry feed plants, animal feed pellet production lines, etc. It always endeavored to improve the quality of products and aims to meet the new requirements of the international market. 
If You Are Ready to Start a Feed Pellet Plant Business, please contact us for the feed mill machine. We Can Provide Professional Design and Comprehensive Guidance According to Your Needs. Get in touch with us now!   Welcome Contact Us! Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd Email: [email protected] Phone/Whatsapp: 86-18037508651
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enosai · 4 months ago
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I have been playing Fields of Mistria for about 100 hours so far, so here are some of my thoughts.
(no idea if any of my ideas are already going to be implemented or not)
CHARACTERS:
What I liked: every character feels and looks different. So far no romance-able option has given me the ick and are all pleasant. 
What I would add:
Have non-romance-able NPC’s have heart events at 2, 4,6,8 and 10 hearts. 
Celine should sell forageable seeds, but at a steep price and a limited stock. Unlocked by an event or enough hearts.
FARMING:
What I liked: Farming is simple and easy to understand. A good amount of crops with room for more.
What I would add:
Have more uses for the hoe, not really using it much.
Have Luc teach you how to make bug traps with honey and flowers. Unlocked with enough hearts with him. 
Luc can teach you how to make bee hives with Ryis’ help. You will have to catch bees to craft them. Will produce honey. 
Have the ax and pickax also cut weeds, so you can more precisely get rid of them. Without cutting the grass. 
Will we get a greenhouse or sheds? Would be fun to have.
ANIMALS:
What I liked: Animals are good so far, the breeding for colors is fun. 
What i would add:
Have Hayden sell grass starter and animal feed. Make it a friendship or story unlock. Don’t make it a skill unlock. 
Have animals have better path finding so they don't go through fences or barns/coops
Have grass spread a bit faster. Also have grass-starter spread grass at an accelerated pace for a few days. 
When milling animal feed you should at least get 2 bags per mix. Making the mill more viable. Make this default not a skill upgrade.
Have the grass starter make 2 starters when you mill it. Make this default not a skill upgrade.
Have a barn/coop upgrade that auto fills the feed troughs and a place to add in the feed.  
CRAFTING:
What I liked: From what I have seen, a good amount of decoration, but not enough practical use that brings me back to it other than chests. 
What I would add: 
Give the wood crafting skill a more practical use other than decoration. Give it crafts like sprinklers, animal product machines, making grass starter at home, ect. Give it a balance of technical and decorative functions. 
Give us an at home forge at some point. March and Olric could unlock the option once they both have enough hearts. 
The crafting table should allow players to craft kegs to make alcohol to be later used in cooking. 
Building barns or coops should reward exp to the crafting skill.
FISHING:
What I liked: Really easy to understand fishing mini game. No problems here.
What I would add:
Have Terithia teach you how to make crab pots, fish ponds/farms and fish bait once you have enough hearts with her. She can also sell them. 
Terithia could sell seaweed, Jade dulse, under seaweed, sea grapes, and tide lettuce. Maybe you can unlock a heart event/ rank upgrade event where she wants to build seaweed farms and you have to bring her the 5 seaweed types and stone to make them. 
Terithia could sell soy sauce. 
You should be able to eat fish raw for a small stamina boost/recovery. 
OTHER: 
If you already have a quest reward, have the old reward change to gold.
Make the days longer by 10 minutes. I feel like I'm scrambling for time. Likewise with the day being longer, make the stamina bar bigger or tools use less stamina. 
The ruins and the beach feel kinda empty. I want more to do and explore. 
Home upgrades that add separate rooms, an upstairs and a basement. 
An auto sorting button for chests that takes the items out of my inventory and auto sorts them into the chest.
More places to explore. The map feels smallish. 
Have notifications when things are happening. Like when Friday night at the inn starts, when the Saturday market is open, or when festivals start.
Getting all buffs in a skill level should award you with using less stamina when using the tool of that skill. Such as: crafting for axes. Mining for pickaxes. Fishing for fishing rods. Archeology for shoves. Farming for watering can/hoe.
When the game becomes 1.0 we should have proper save files so we can have multiple farms/save files at once.
Make coops/ barns, trees and large objects transparent when you walk behind them. 
Holding the SHIFT key makes you buy or collect 5 of an item.
Chests should be bigger at least 1.5 times the max inventory. 
Too many monsters in the mine make you wait and waste time.
Allow us to sell stuff at any store. 
Scrolling through your inventory should not go to the next tab, it should loop the tab. Only switching tabs when the TAB key is hit. 
As your town rank goes up, wandering traders, adventurers, and visitors appear. They can sell rare or unobtainable items or have world building dialog. 
Have new events happen  year 2 and 3. New people, new places, new crops and items. Will make the game more interesting in the long run.
There should be an indicator saying if i have crafted/cooked something or not and how many times it has been crafted. 
When buying an item(s), there should be a chest icon telling you how many of that item I have in a chest. This would be helpful for forgetful players that don't keep track of items well.
Maybe make the legendary bugs a bit easier to find. I’m only finding speedy snails.
Thanks for hearing my thoughts.
@fieldsofmistria
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snapthistiger · 6 months ago
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exercise 07172024
8 x 10 incline sit ups
3 x 10 pec machine
3 x 10 lat raise
3 x 10 low row
30 minutes on the step mill
3 x 10 cable press
3 x 10 cable row
worked lifeguard job 8a to noon
the gym workers and some lifeguards received Hershey kisses
work went well. watched swimmers about 3/4 of the time and cleaned the remainder of the time. between 830a and 930a, i had 30+ swimmers in the water between high school swim team and swim lessons and then children that aren't in swim lessons. one lady had 11 of her own children. two of hers were in swim lessons, the rest were in the bleachers. another lady was breast feeding her baby / doesn't bother me at all but i know some people feel otherwise.
NSV = received a compliment on my weight lifting from a guy at the gym
renewed my Louisiana state vehicle inspection
picked up milk and apples and corn chips and cookies at Kroger
top = Peanut loafing on the arm of the couch
mowed behind the fence. supposed to get a week or so of rain
hope you have a peaceful afternoon and evening..
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oz00ms2 · 1 year ago
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I’m like five hours late with Starbucks to this but I neeeed to ask you about your Marine Buggy au if you’re up for it. How much do you think Buggy is a formidable threat in this au and how much is him somehow stumbling into success like in canon? Not that canon Buggy can’t be a threat under the right circumstances , but one can’t deny how much is just pure unadulterated dumb luck and it’s just extremly funny to me imagining another version of him bumbling his way to the top in the same manner, but also this version of Buggy seems more competent in comparison, so I am interested in hearing how you interpret him yourself.
Also as a Shuggy appreciator I am still gonna throw out the scenario of someone promoting Firebug up a rank and adding „You really did it Sir. If those dastardly pirates set sail just an hour earlier we wouldn’t have had the menpower and that tactical advantage that helped us win that last fight . It’s a shame that red headed bastard got away, but nevertheless this is a huge success for all of us. Truly remarkable Sir! How’d you do it? How did you keep them from setting sail for so LONG? Did you mingle amongst the crew to stage a mutiny? Did you damage their boat? Sir, I would love to know Sir!“ Buggys mind flashes back to him and Shanks absolutely violently making out against the wall in Shanks cabin. „… Some tactics are better kept a secret.“ „Of course Sir! Yes Sir!“
did you bring me a coffee too? :<
ty for asking about this silly lil au.
for marine!buggy I still have to believe he falls UP as is his MO. this little dude has supernatural luck and a bizarre power over men with his strange charisma so having that transfer to this au with minor tweaks.
I like to imagine he was under tsuru's tutelage once he officially joined the navy - as it's difficult for me to see him viewing any man as worth his obedience after rogers and his broken heart. plus she has a strong immunity to flashy types and I believe she'd be capable of curbing his worst traits. buggy would need someone to speak to him like an adult, blunt and lacking the whimsical dreams of his adoptive pirates who I see as having allowed buggy too lofty of a perception on the world with his issues.
would he be a dangerous marine? probably not on his own - but being believed in and supported by structure and more talented minds - I think he'd be a crafty ballistics expert and a typically underestimated foe. very useful against run of the mill pirates and keeping shorelines safe. but against more daunting enemies he'd depend on numbers and the backup of more powerful allies (while absolutely taking the praise for "organizing the group attack". )
like, please imagine smoker being his subordinate - that is hilarious to me.
I think he'd be a successful marine with very little interest in the darker machinations of the marines because he's only here to feed his loss and be praised for doing a good job. however he would be easily manipulated by darker hearted higher ups and probably not the most reliable.
unfortunately he's still buggy at heart, still a dreamer, and if he happens to mess up when his envy of free-spirited pirates gets in the way of his job, well he gets demoted/promoted endlessly like he's riding a ferris wheel with a broken brake.
as for the scenario you so beautifully presented: yes absolutely 100% 10/10 no notes.
the amount of times buggy has been interrupted mid-tumble with shanks and it has been misconstrued as him "fighting epically against the horrid red hair captain" is in the hundreds at this point.
the Marines who know the truth wish they didn't and he gets his ear dragged around by tsuru as she screams at him: that's not what she meant when she said to take red hair down!!!
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doc-pickles · 1 year ago
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I've got you | anthony beauvillier
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summary: sequel to til forever falls apart. anthony gets traded again, but everything is different this time.
warnings: unfortunately mentions the bl*ckhawks
a/n: can someone PLEASE get this man out of Chicago?! also let's just pretend he played his first game there I know he didn't but that wasn't good for the plot. enjoy!
xoxo
nina
The light in the nursery is low, only a soft glow coming from the sound machine as you sit in the rocking chair. Hudson is curled up against your chest, the two-month-old snoozing away after finishing a feeding. 
“My sweet boy, you look so much like daddy,” you whisper the words into the darkness as you hear the door to your apartment close. “Sounds like he’s home. Should we go say hi?”
Tito finds you instead, slipping quietly into the nursery and smiling as he sees you and Hudson. But the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he kneels next to the rocking chair and settles his head onto your chest so he’s face to face with Hudson. 
“What’s wrong, mon amour,” you whisper as your fingers come up to Tito’s hair and stroke slowly. “Anthony?”
“I love you,” he whispers as he looks at Hudson. “I’m sorry my job doesn’t offer any stability right now.”
You hold your breath, knowing that Anthony was on the block for a trade. You try to school your features as you look down at him and meet his eyes, “Tito?”
“I got traded to Chicago,” he whispers the words before he sighs and buries his face in your chest. “I’m so sorry, bébé.”
Your hand continues to card through Anthony’s hair as he struggles to keep himself together. You can feel his staggered breaths and the way he’s trying not to cry as he sinks into your hold. Holding him and your son close to you, you take a deep breath before speaking. 
“Don’t apologize, mon amour,” you whisper as you run your fingers down his cheek. “We’ll go wherever you go. No matter what.”
Your words seem to calm Tito as his shoulders sag and he relaxes in your hold. He doesn’t move until Hudson starts to stir, tiny wails coming from him as he squirms in your arms. Tito immediately grabs for him, holding your son against his chest as he sways silently. You watch your husband and son for a moment, Tito whispering to Hud in French as he walks in slow circles around the nursery.
“Are you upset because of what happened last time you got traded?” you ask quietly. Tito stops for only a second before he continues walking, but it’s enough for you to frown as you watch him. “Oh Anthony, you have to know that things are different now, no?” 
“I-,” Tito turns to look at you with unshed tears shining in his eyes. “I almost lost everything last time. And I don’t want to be there again.”
You stand and gather Tito in your arms, careful not to squish Hudson between you, “You’re not going to lose us, you never could. Okay? No matter where you get traded to we’ll be by your side.”
The three of you stand in silence for a few more minutes, Tito’s grip on you never wavering. Despite the uncertainty ahead, you’re confident that your little family will be okay.
+
“Okay Hud let’s go find Daddy,” you whisper to your son who’s currently strapped to your chest with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones on. He looks adorable as he watches everyone milling around the arena, fascinated by all the activity.
Tonight is Anthony’s first game playing for Chicago and you and Hudson had come to surprise him. You’d moved into your temporary apartment two days ago and had told him that you were still settling into a routine with Hudson so you couldn’t come tonight. As you walked towards the ice though you knew you’d made the right choice in coming.
Tito is warming up in the corner, a few guys coming up and saying hello intermittently. A smile forms on your face as you watch him interact with his new teammates, his outgoing personality shining through. 
“Hey 91!” you smirk as Tito whips around, a huge grin settling on his face when he spots you. “We couldn’t miss your first game!”
Your husband skates up to the glass, his smile growing as he notices Hudson looking up at him with wide eyes. When he meets your eyes your heart melts, knowing that your show of support meant so much to him.
“Love you,” Tito mouths as he presses his hand against the glass.
“Love you,” you mouth back, your hand coming up to mirror his. “Now go score us a goal!”
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dalishious · 9 months ago
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Screenrant is a content mill and apparently was paying around $10 an article during covid, so if it helps, when you see badly written posts on a highly read website, it's because it's words to feed the google machine, and not something pitched by anyone who actually wants to be writing about dragon age. depressing, but hopefully that helps you calibrate!
Damn, that does make me feel a little better.
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