#hydra cranes

[acecranesindia]

Carry all Loads - ACE Pick and Carry Cranes - 14 XW

[differential-housing]

[hookaljob]

https://www.hookal.com/search/baddi/hydra-crane-service

[adarshmicrotech]

The Mechanism and Significance of Crane Booms in Small Hydra Cranes

In the dynamic world of heavy lifting and construction, Hydra Cranes stand out as versatile workhorses, capable of maneuvering through complex job sites with ease. At the heart of their efficiency lies a crucial component—the crane boom. This article delves into the mechanism of Hydra crane small boom length, specifically those with smaller boom lengths, and highlights the profound impact and importance of the crane boom in these compact yet powerful machines.

Understanding Hydra Crane Mechanism:

A Hydra Crane, also known as a hydraulic crane, operates on the principles of hydraulic power. This mechanism utilizes hydraulic fluid to generate the force needed for lifting heavy loads. The key components of a Hydra Crane include the hydraulic pump, hydraulic cylinder, hydraulic control valves, and, of course, the crane boom.

Crane Boom: The Extending Arm of Power:

The crane boom is the defining feature of a Hydra Crane, serving as its extending arm. It consists of a series of tubes or sections that can be extended or retracted to adjust the reach and height of the crane. The versatility of a Hydra crane small boom length lies in the mobility and flexibility provided by this pivotal component.

Impact and Importance of Small Boom Length in Hydra Cranes:

Maneuverability in Confined Spaces: The significance of a small boom length in a Hydra Crane becomes evident in its ability to navigate through tight and confined spaces. Construction sites often present challenges with limited space, and a Small Hydra crane boom can operate efficiently in such environments, reaching areas where larger cranes may struggle to fit.

Precision in Load Placement: The small boom length in Hydra Cranes allows for precision in load placement. This is particularly crucial in tasks that demand accuracy, such as placing heavy machinery or materials at specific locations on a construction site. The controlled and targeted lifting capability ensures that the load is placed exactly where it is needed, reducing the margin for error.

Versatility in Urban Settings: In urban landscapes where space constraints are a constant challenge, small Hydra Cranes booms become indispensable. These cranes can operate in close proximity to existing structures, making them ideal for tasks such as building maintenance, installation of equipment on rooftops, or lifting materials in urban construction projects.

Ease of Transportation: The impact of a small boom in a Hydra Crane extends to logistical considerations. The compact size allows for ease of transportation, making it more cost-effective and efficient to move the crane between job sites. This flexibility is especially beneficial for projects that require the crane to be deployed across multiple locations.

Safety and Stability: The size of the crane boom directly influences the stability of the Hydra crane small boom length during lifting operations. Smaller boom lengths contribute to a lower center of gravity, enhancing the crane's stability. This is crucial for ensuring safe lifting practices, minimizing the risk of accidents, and providing operators with better control over the crane's movements.

Hydra Crane Applications:

Construction Sites: Small Hydra Cranes Boom find extensive use on construction sites, where the ability to navigate tight spaces and lift loads with precision is paramount. From erecting steel structures to placing building materials, these cranes play a vital role in construction projects of varying scales.

Maintenance Projects: In industrial settings or facilities with existing structures, Hydra Cranes with small boom lengths are valuable for maintenance tasks. They can access elevated areas for repairs or installations, contributing to the overall upkeep of the infrastructure.

Urban Development: The versatility of small Hydra Cranes boom makes them instrumental in urban development projects. Whether it's lifting materials for high-rise construction or placing equipment in urban spaces, these cranes offer a practical solution for the challenges posed by city environments.

Conclusion:

The mechanism of a Hydra crane small boom length, coupled with the impact of a small boom length, exemplifies the efficiency and adaptability of these machines in various industries. From navigating confined spaces to ensuring precision in load placement, the importance of the crane boom cannot be overstated. Small Hydra Cranes, with their compact booms, stand as exemplars of versatility, providing solutions to complex lifting tasks while maintaining a focus on safety and efficiency. As technology continues to advance, these machines will undoubtedly play an increasingly vital role in shaping the future of heavy lifting and construction.

[cranes-on-rent]

Renting Cranes: Your Trusted Solution for Heavy Lifting

When it comes to heavy lifting, having access to reliable and efficient crane rental services is paramount. If you're searching for crane for rent at your location, specifically hydra crane services, we are here to provide the perfect solution. Our comprehensive range of cranes available for rent is tailored to meet your specific lifting requirements.

Why should you choose our crane rental service? Here are the key factors that set us apart:

Versatility and Dependability:

Our extensive fleet of cranes, including hydra cranes, ensures that we can cater to a wide array of project demands. Whether you need a crane for construction, infrastructure development, or any other heavy-duty task, we have the right equipment for you.

Each crane in our fleet undergoes regular maintenance and rigorous inspections to guarantee optimal performance, reliability, and adherence to the highest safety standards.

Experienced and Skilled Operators:

Our crane rental service not only provides top-notch equipment but also highly trained and experienced operators who are proficient in handling various types of cranes. They possess the expertise to ensure smooth and safe operations, regardless of the complexity of your project.

Prompt and Efficient:

We understand the value of time in any project. Our crane rental service is renowned for its promptness and efficiency. We prioritize delivering the crane you require within the agreed-upon timeframe, minimizing downtime and maximizing productivity for your operations.

Competitive Pricing:

We believe that quality crane services should be accessible and affordable. With our competitive pricing options, we strive to provide cost-effective solutions without compromising on the quality of our equipment or services. You can rely on us to deliver exceptional value for your investment.

Safety First:

Safety is our utmost priority. Our cranes are meticulously maintained and regularly inspected to ensure they meet stringent safety standards. Our operators strictly adhere to comprehensive safety protocols, ensuring a secure work environment and minimizing the risk of accidents or incidents.

When it comes to finding the right crane for your project, our crane rental service is your ultimate partner. Whether you require a hydra crane for a construction project, specialized lifting operations, or any other lifting needs, we have you covered.

Contact us today to discuss your project requirements and discover how our knowledgeable team can assist you in selecting the perfect crane for rent. Experience the reliability, efficiency, and safety that our crane services offer, enabling you to accomplish your tasks with confidence and ease.

[metalbuckaroo]

The Chase

Summary// "we had a deal, my dove. You promised."

AU// WinterSoldier!Bucky x F!Reader

Warnings// chasing kink, unprotected sex, smut, a yank to the hair, cursing, use of petnames- dove, dovey

Note// I think I'm a little rusty, but I'm also beyond tired rn so it could also be that ehsudienaua. This is a part two to the Black Mail fic I did for kinktober many moons ago

"Who is he?" He was everywhere. His gruff voice echoing through the trees, surrounding you as you frantically looked around. Trying to find a way out of this situation. "I don't share, dove."

He was right behind you, your legs working before your mind to carry you in the opposite direction. Lungs burning from the cold night air as his dark chuckle faded in the distance.

But, he was quick and quiet. Moving just as fast as you could look over your shoulder before slamming into what could only be described as a wall of pure muscle, sending you falling back onto the leaf covered ground.

"Please- James, please. I'm sorry." You pleaded, tears stinging your eyes as he stood over you. The same mask Hydra forced him to wear covering the lower portion of his face.

He kneeled down, denim blues dark with something you couldn't place. "I won't ask again. Who. Is. He."

"Your way out! Please, just let me go. I still have a week!" The metal of his left hand gleamed in the moonlight as he reached his hand out to grasp your chin. Pupils blown and touch gentle.

"I'll give you a headstart. You have three minutes, dovey." You just stared at him wide eyed, chest heaving and heart hammering against your ribcage. "Run."

As if on instinct, you scrambled to your feet, trying to find your footing to dart back into the darkness the trees provided.

You knew you couldn't go much longer, your aching muscles sending pains through your legs each time your feet would hit the ground. There was no use in running anyways, he'd always win.

"We had a deal, my dove. You promised." You swore you could hear the grit of his teeth when you'd stopped, so close to giving in as you leaned your forehead against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Fingers curving against the wood. "You're just like them."

"No, I'm not." You heaved, trying to take a moment to catch your breath.

"I saw you with him at that diner. You're suppose to be mine."

His voice was getting closer, making you bite down on the inside of your cheeks to take some of the attention away from the burning in your legs before taking off again.

Though, you didn't make it far before fingers curled in the back of your hair. Crying out when he barely yanked to make you stop.

"I was doing what I was told. You want out, I have to find someone who can do that." You tried to reason, words not coming easy from the way he had your head craned back. His warm right arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him.

"Lies." He seethed, calloused fingers slipping under your shirt. "I've dreamt of you. Craved you. Now I finally have you again. I've been so cold without you my sweet dove."

Your body gave in the moment nimble fingers flicked the button of your pants open.

There was something twisted inside of you that liked the chase, the constant looming feeling you'd had over the weeks since you'd last seen him- like he was just lying in wait for the right moment.

It was hard to think of much else than the last time you'd saw him. The drag of his fingers against your skin, the way his lips seared kisses to your throat- much like now, cold and warm hands dragging against your sides as your fingers worked at the tactical belt that kept you from what you were truly after.

The ground freezing against your bare back not slowing you from getting what you craved.

It seemed to take ages for James to notice your struggle, his hands replacing your own to easily pull open the buckle as yours went to unclip the mask. Carelessly tossing it into the leaves to pull his lips to yours.

The hunger behind his kiss fueled you, your fingers weaving through his long locks and legs going around his waist to pull him closer. Swallowing breaths and quiet grunts as his hand fumbled to grasp his shaft.

The shudder that rolled through your body as he pressed into you was enough to send your mind reeling, everything else around you fading away and your senses overwhelmed by only him as he found his pace. Short, hard thrusts rocking your body- sending shocks of pure pleasure shooting down your legs.

You'd missed how full he made you feel. An emptiness left behind in his absence, his touch electric as he groped at your chest and left sloppy kisses along your throat. Deep moans vibrating against the skin, mixing with your whines in the cold night air.

"Can feel you milking me, dovey. Make a mess, show me who I belong to." James panted, drinking in the pleasure drunk scrunch of your face as your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Wedging his arm under you for a better angle, he didn't change his pace. Taking the opportunity to slot his lips over yours when you cried out in bliss, swallowing the sultry sound as your cunt clamped around him. His hips jerked forward at the feeling, the swirling sensation at his base building until he couldn't take it anymore- spilling into you with a huffed grunt.

The warmth of his body was quickly replaced with the night air, goosebumps prickling your skin as you whined in response. The dull ring in your ears making it hard to focus as you found your jeans to redress.

"One more week, dove. Better hurry."

[murdrdocs]

slight crybaby!reader; post betrayal; sexual content; MDNI

your next moan blends into a sniffle.

you remove one hand from the bark to wipe at your leaking eyes again, only for your tears to behave like a hydra. eventually, you would realize that there's no point in trying to wipe them away, they come back no matter what. besides, you should focus your attention on luke.

this is something you'd been dreaming about, after all, even if you pretended you weren't.

luke shushes you, the sound meeting your ears directly due to his proximity. his hips cant up into yours again, driving his cock deeper into you with determination.

"there's no reason to cry, angel," he tells you, kissing your shoulder while his calloused fingers rub against your midriff. "are you not happy to see me?"

you hear the self-satisfied smirk in his words, but you still are quick to respond. quick to quell any possibilities that you weren't happy to see him.

"i am, luke. swear. but ..." you take a second, eyes fluttering shut when luke grinds up into you this time, the ridges of his cock perfectly rubbing against the ridges of your walls.

"but what?" he reminds you.

"the others. i shouldn't be doing this. you–" he interrupts you this time, sticking his lips to your cheek in a slobbery kiss.

"shh. don't worry about what i did, 'kay? it's all for the greater good. promise."

you get so dumb when luke fucks you. because you actually believe him. when he treats you so well, pleasing you in ways you're so sure only he can, it's so easy for you to believe every sugar coated word from his pretty pink lips.

you reach back and dig a hand into his curls, resting your head onto his shoulder and craning your eyes to try and meet his.

"promise?" you ask, not breaking eye contact once, as if looking at him into the deep brown pits will ensure honesty.

you can't tell if he's being sincere when he firmly tells you, "promise", but it doesn't matter much anyway because luke uses one of his hands to flick and circle your clit then, and the only thing that matters is getting to cum around luke's cock once more.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

HELL–BOUND. ₁

mcu!peter parker | zombie–apocalypse au. CHAPTER ONE.

IN WHICH you’re the last hope to saving the world from HYDRA’s destructive zombie outbreak.

read chapter two | three | four | five.

✨masterlist.✨

1.9k.

“You were born for this.” The words were tattooed on your existence, handwritten on your destiny. “We made you for this.” And your fate was embroidered with such words, such purpose, even as your footsteps echoed on the ashes of humanity. The last remaining remnants that society existed were crushed beneath your leather boots, and broken along the cracking pavement. 

It had been four weeks since the outbreak. Four weeks since you’d been kidnapped by HYDRA; since you’d been separated from the avengers, since the death of Steve Rogers and since the downfall of America. The rest of the world was slowly catching flame with the fire that HYDRA started, withering away at the mercy of people who were stupid enough to try and fly out to salvation. 

But this virus wasn’t a disease, it was a creation. These infected people weren’t able to be cured, they needed to be stopped. And the only person who could stop it kept trekking on the pavement, white knuckles on a gun and a backpack. 

The fate of the world rested in that backpack, in your brain, in your blood. And you didn’t even give yourself time to process. You'd been running for days.

Natasha’s words still rang through your head like some kind of broken record, a senseless beacon of hope you tried to make some sense of. She’d come to free you, to inform you of the state world currently laid in. “If we get separated, I’ll find you.” She’d used the gravest tone you’d ever heard her muster. “And if you get lost, meet me in Massachusetts.”

You never would’ve thought that she’d be the one to get lost. To sacrifice herself just to get you out, and you knew why. You also knew you’d find her. You had to, needed to, or she’d find you. You’d find each other. Somehow, someway, soon, you'd be reunited. It was only a matter of time. 

But that was a week ago. 

Thank God you made it out, yet you were anything but hopeful. You could tell this was only the beginning. The start of something gut—wrenchingly inhumane. You were nearly out of New York, trekking on foot to Massachusetts like she’d told you to. Driving would put you at too much risk right now, especially when trying to journey alone. This helped you to better navigate your surroundings. 

Hearing the low glottaled groan of an infected, you craned your head in the direction. They were stuck beside a tree, webs restraining them to the trunk and their body deteriorating as the hours passed. The stench of their corpsing complexion alone was lethal. Still, you knew what you had to do. 

Aiming your gun, you kept your distance. Loading, squinting an eye, and firing like HYDRA was right all along: you were born for this. You made a clean shot, putting the victim out of their misery and continuing to trek along the ruins of a road. 

Until you heard a twig snap behind you. 

Your instincts were too fast as you loaded and aimed your gun once again, turning on your heel behind you to find yourself staring at a familiar face. Your eyes widened, lowering your gun only a little. 

“Peter Parker?” It was the first time you’d spoken in days. The words felt wrong on your tongue, and seeing him was something you weren’t sure what to make of. 

He looked older, matured, aged. Aged by the things he had to endure when the world ended; matured by the things he had to do to protect people, to witness the losses he did. He was older, in experience, in life, and in the days he knew were numbered. 

His hands were raised, but his eyes told you that he knew you wouldn’t shoot him. You were classmates, after all. Teammates, Avengers. Something more. You should’ve felt relief to have seen him, and part of you did. But the other part of you drove the actions that led you to put your gun in its holster at your hip and pace towards him. Peter stayed where he was as you slapped him across the face. Your blood boiled with rage. 

And he just let it. 

“This is your fault!” You spat at him, fighting the urges to punch him, to hug him, but even you knew that anger would get you nowhere; even you knew a huge part of you was undeniably grateful to see him alive. Unharmed. 

His jaw clenched and he’d finally averted his eye contact. Peter knew you were right, even as outlandish as the accusation was. “Y/N, please..” His voice was softer than you remembered it being, perhaps because of how apologetic his tone was. It almost thawed your anger. It almost reminded you that perhaps things weren’t as grim as you’d begun to believe. You couldn’t let it, though. 

Your fist raised to throw a punch. A roar far off in the distance ceased your actions. Your whole body froze, and Peter’s did, too. Cold blood and a trembling fist to your side, and you looked to Peter for a directive out of this. 

He grabbed your hand without hesitation, leading you into the forest beside you. Not a word was said. You were silent, invisible to your surroundings. Cutting through overgrown greenery, and stepping over fallen branches and knee–high grass. Peter led you past trees and bushes, over rotting bodies and patches of dry dirt, until you got to a twenty foot gate randomly placed in the middle of it. 

Like procedure, he placed his thumb on a touch screen and the gate opened, programmed to only open up a crack so he could squeeze through, and thus you behind him. The gate closed less than a second after you were through it, and just beyond it was a bolted door. 

Peter dropped your hand, unlocking the door and helping you inside. This must have been where he’d been resigning since the last time you saw him. He, too, had been taken by HYDRA when you were. He, too, had been worked and experimented on, just the same as you. And he, too, wasn’t a stranger to the way the two of you led the world to its demise. 

Did he know the part he played in all of this, though? Truly?

Silence reigned over the two of you as you calmed down, and Peter led you through the bunker he had been living in. There were walls of canned food, loads of weapons, working technology, and piles of papers. He’d been writing, documenting. 

Perhaps, he’d been alone. 

Peter was the first to break the silence. “Are you hungry?” He’d noticed you staring. “Cold? Want a change of clothes?” Even when the world had gone to shit, he still knew how to be a good host. Even when he knew you were upset with him, he knew how to make you feel comfortable. Seen. 

It took you back to moments before everything happened. Before everything changed. It brought back memories of a world you now only knew in slumber, things almost too painful to think about in waking moments. 

Taking a breath, you turned to face him. “Are you living here alone?” You ignored his questions. Typical. The query ached in your throat, you had to ask it. “Are there– umm.. Are there any of us left besides–”

“This is Natasha’s place.” He knew who you were trying to ask about. You watched the way he turned on a heater in the middle of the room. How his shoulders hung lower the deeper in thought he got, how many seconds were in between his answer and the realization that it might just be the three of you left. “I don’t know who’s left. Besides you and me, and Nat.”

And that’s when you realized the part she was playing in this; she had been protecting Peter, the same way that she’d been protecting you. The two of you were merely kids, after all. Clinging to the hope of getting back to a world where you could get college degrees, and they would mean something. 

You walked further into the room, following the warmth as it poured into the space. “When was the last time you saw her?” The rage you’d felt towards Peter just moments prior had already begun to thaw, already losing sight on where the anger came from. You were more focused, more worried, about Nat right now.

He sat down on a chair in the space, tapping his finger on the arm of it and bouncing his leg as he pondered. “The last I saw her, she was on her way to get you.”

That realization made your heart stop. Your feet glued to the floor, and your whole body froze. It seemed like Peter’s body caught whatever sensation of panic flooded yours. He froze, too. 

“Peter.. That was a week ago.” The words fell heavy from your lips, like the fate of the world was tied to them. And it was. 

He stared back at you, not daring to break the eye contact. Whether it was to provide comfort, or to better read your expression. “I know.” Even he understood the weight of this. The weight of whether Natasha was still alive, safe. Or worse. 

You looked at him, taking a breath. Realizing you were quick to your anger earlier, and realizing that maybe Peter didn’t know what role he played in this. Regret put you in a chokehold, the bitterness of death taking reign on the tension in the room. It stole any kind of wishful thinking you’d had, and made its dire presence known by sounding off in the ticking of a clock—hand. 

Grabbing your backpack, you went for the folder you’d kept inside. You fumbled to grab the papers, handing them over to Peter. “We need to find her.” 

A puzzled look danced across his face in the light. He wasn’t entirely sure what you were getting at, or what you handed him, which meant you were right. He had no idea what part he played in this. “We need to find her, and we need to get the fuck out of this continent.”

He looked through the papers, eyebrows pressing together as he processed the writings. “Y/N, what the fuck is this?”

“Did she tell you what our plan was?” You asked him, trying not to let your anxiety boil over. You needed to keep your composure. “Did she ever tell you what we need to do?”

“What the fuck.. What the fuck am I looking at?” He ignored your question. 

You looked at Peter and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to panic, you knew it wasn’t. “Peter, I know how to stop this outbreak.”

Instantly, he met your eyes from where he sat, his entire expression changing the tone it directed at you. Misunderstanding morphed to confusion, curiosity. Hope. “How?” He forced the words out, needing to know the answer. 

“We need to find Natasha, and get to Wakanda.” You told him, hugging your knees closer to your chest. “When we get to Wakanda, they’ll know what to do.”

Peter wasn’t satisfied with that. “And then what? How does the world just go back to normal?” His questions were urgent, but not judgmental. He didn’t ask with a tone to attack you. In fact, the weight they gained told you he might’ve caught on to what you were about to say. “How do we cure these people?”

Anxiety ran a course through your system, gnawing at your insides and sending a chill down the length of your body. You stilled, minus the fidgeting of your fingers. Your breaths became trembled, and you procrastinated your answer. “We have to get me to Wakanda.. so that they can kill me.”

And the whole world went quiet. 

[aurumacadicus]

Don't forget, you can find more of this under my 'arranged witching au' tag!

--

He was even hotter up close, Tony lamented, curling his hands into fists in his lap. Rogers' hair looked golden in the candlelight, and it seemed to make the blue of his eyes pop more. He was built like a brick house, too, and Tony hadn't even known he found that attractive until Rogers had handed his shield off to one of the footmen like it weighed nothing and the footman had staggered with it, his own muscles straining to hold it off the floor.

Nomadic covens were used to hard labor. If they settled in a place, it was only for a few years, and then they left before their magic could truly take root. The downside to this was that they'd never be as powerful as a rooted coven. On the other hand, a witch was only as strong as their roots where they were rooted, so unless they were on their own property, they would find the nomads had the upper hand in a fight.

He'd never thought about what that 'hard labor' would entail, nor that he might... have to appreciate it. It wasn't a chore to appreciate.

Tony gripped his hands tighter, until he could feel his nails biting into his palms, and tried to focus on what Rogers and his father were talking about. It was difficult. Howard had cast a muddling spell to keep their conversation from being overheard. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Rogers seemed to be the only person who could hear him--even his mother appeared to be having difficulty following along. Rogers's coven-mates weren't even pretending they could understand.

Rogers set something on the table between them, and Tony didn't even pretend he wasn't craning his head to see what it was. He felt a flush of ice through his veins as he saw the skull and tentacles branded into the piece of burnt leather. He'd only seen it once before, when his mother had brought a bundle of old things that included a medallion like it to a cleansing fire, and one of the old biddies from another coven had explained that that was what the man who cursed Tony as a babe had been wearing. (The old biddy's voice had lowered, conspiratorial, "Maria Stark was so enraged when she realized her baby had been cursed, the warlock had burst into flames without her having to utter a word.")

Tony suddenly understood the gravity of his upcoming nuptials. If Hydra was rearing their ugly heads again, it wouldn't be just the nomadic covens in danger--every rooted coven would be, too. Hydra had turned their magic dark, ugly, something that sucked the power from others and killed them from the inside like poison. They didn't even need to show brute force to ruin a coven. All they needed was one person to sneak in and poison it from the inside.

Tony had known his father probably wouldn't fight the engagement, but now, seeing that Hydra was back on the rise again, he knew they wouldn't have a choice.

"I have this, too," Rogers suddenly said, voice cutting through loud and clear, and set a wooden box on the table in front of Tony.

Tony blinked, then glanced over at his parents. When Maria gave him a slight nod, he turned back to it, reaching out to draw it toward himself. The box's finish was slick under his fingers, and it still felt warm from Rogers's body heat. He ran his thumbs over the edges, then tipped the box open on its hinges.

"Oh," he breathed as light glinted off the large blue stone inside. It was cut square, resting in a silver setting. The silver band seemed thinner than what a man would normally wear. He took it out of the velvet cushion and held it up between his index and thumb. It wouldn't fit--it was for smaller, more delicate fingers. His mother's finger, probably.

The blue of the stone seemed to swirl in circles, but when Tony turned it toward the light, it stopped.

He looked up at Rogers, then let his eyes drift down to where his hands were clasped on top of the table, at the tear drop-shaped ruby set in gold on his finger. His mother had given Sarah Rogers that, as thanks for taking the curse off of him.

Rogers reached out, gently taking the ring from his fingers. He lifted it to his mouth, gave it a quick blow, as if he was trying to blow dust off of it. Then he reached back toward him, sliding the ring onto his finger--a perfect fit.

Tony could feel his cheeks turning pink and ducked his head, barely managing to choke out a polite, if strained, "Thank you."

[acecranesindia]

Experience the next generation of lifting technology with the ACE F350 - 35 tonnes lifting capacity NextGen Pick-and-carry crane. Its unparalleled strength and advanced features set it apart from the competition, ensuring optimal performance and efficiency in even the most challenging projects.

[differential-housing]

[hookaljob]

https://www.hookal.com/search/baddi/hydra-crane-rental-near-me

[pellucid-constellations]

angstober (7)

Prompt: "Weakness"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: This is a heavy one. Anywaysss love you <3

angstober masterlist here ♡

~~~

A door hinge creaked somewhere far off. 

Bucky waited. He’d been waiting for hours now, hands tied behind his back, chains digging into the skin of his right wrist. He’d tried ripping them away to no avail. 

Whoever had taken him had been prepared. Had known him and his weaknesses. 

But it didn't matter; the second he got free, their knowledge would mean nothing. Pure fury was fueling his stay, and pure power would fuel his fight to freedom. His fight back home.

A door creaked open, dim light dusting the grime on the solid floors. Footsteps, each carefully measured, echoed as they made their way toward Bucky. It wasn’t until the shine of leather came into his view that Bucky looked up—that he gave his captor the privilege of the rage burned into his expression. 

“You want something from me?” he gritted out, narrowing his eyes at the older man above him. 

The man only shot up a brow. “There are several things I want from you, Sergeant Barnes.” A thick accent held his words together. “But none of which I am sure you will give lightly.” 

Bucky let out a humorless chuckle. “How would you know? Haven’t even tried yet. Just left me sitting here. That your tactic? Isolation? Because I can tell you right now, I’ve waited a lot longer for a lot less.” 

In hindsight, goading the man who held his mercy in his hands wasn’t the most clever move. But Bucky got mouthy when he was angry, even more so when he was sure Hydra had a hand in whatever bullshit he was currently caught up in. 

Looking back, Bucky would take back his words, even if it wouldn’t have helped. 

He knew they wouldn’t have helped. 

The man grabbed Bucky’s chin and craned his neck harshly, putting him inches away from his face. “You will wish it was isolation. I simply needed time to procure what I needed to make you speak.” 

“What do you want to know?” Bucky seethed, roughly turning his face away. He spoke his next words to the floor. “Typically you ask nicely first. Haven’t even tried that.” 

“I do not have time for those theatrics.” 

With a snap of his fingers, the door opened wider. Bucky heard a struggle in the hall—scuffling feet and grunts and muffled words. The man before him rolled his eyes, hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch the door. 

“What, some kind of animal?” Bucky scoffed. “You’ll have to try—” 

Blood ran cold. At that moment, Bucky couldn’t tell whose blood it was. Because his blood, the very same that pumped beneath his skin and warmed him, didn’t feel like his own. His body felt foreign, each limb tightening and then cramping to the point of pain.

This wasn’t his body. 

He wasn’t here. 

You weren’t here. You couldn’t be. 

“No.” His whisper was only a breath. He hadn’t meant to speak. 

Bucky flinched as a cloud clap resonated in the space, followed by a mocking laugh. “Finally something to stop your ridiculous taunts,” the man rejoiced, leaning over to hold his thighs, coming nose-to-nose with Bucky. “I would have brought her in from the start, had I known.” 

Your gaze met his, and Bucky lost it—in his mind, body, being, he came undone. He pulled against the chains harder than before, letting out curse after curse at the man in front of him. He threatened death, torture, and far worse that he wouldn’t be able to follow through on. 

But he would find a way. 

Because your face was already bruised. Your hands were tied together at your hips and he could see the way the rope chafed at your skin. The same skin he had kissed countless times before. It was marred now, and you were in pain. He could hear your muffled sobs beneath the cloth shoved into your mouth, and Bucky promised far worse things than death. 

You weren’t meant for this—to ever feel this way. 

“What the fuck do you want!?” he snarled, his eyes leaving you for a singular moment to direct his rage towards the man. He found you again a second later, not wanting to leave you unguarded. 

It was silly to think his eyes had any power now. 

“Attitudes change so fast in the name of love, do they not?” the man posed, coming around to linger at your side. 

Bucky’s chest rumbled in warning... in anger and frustration and desperation. “Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want. Let her go.” 

The man seemed uninterested in his request, letting a finger track the shape of your cheek. You flinched back, running into the woman that had dragged you in. 

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Bucky barked out, words punctuated by chains slamming to the floor. 

The hand left your face, only to move to your hair. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut with the heavy intake of your breath. Bucky mourned the loss. Mourned any time before this—before he was the reason you had been hurt. 

There was no going back from this. This was his fault. You were here because of him. 

Unimaginable sorrow fought for dominance in his chest, but he kept the anger burning. It was the only way he’d be able to save you. 

“I find—anecdotally—that there is much less resistance in my…clients when there is a contract up front,” the man hummed. He grabbed the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin. You let out a whimper, and Bucky let out a threat coated in a surging panic. “Shall I spell it out for you, then, Sergeant Barnes?” 

You were thrown to the floor, knees crashing against concrete. You cried harder and Bucky felt all the wrath he’d been kindling die out. Fear replaced it. Unbridled fear. He couldn’t get out of these chains. He pulled and tugged until he was sure the vibranium bent and his skin broke, but nothing budged. 

He couldn’t save you.

“I will tell you anything you want to know,” Bucky pleaded, tone dangerously low, breath coming out in heavy pants. His eyes were glued to the way your chest heaved. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. You know that. That’s why you went after her, isn’t it?” 

The man laughed again, this time a deep, soft disruption in the otherwise stagnant room. “You always were smart for a mindless drone.” 

Hydra. 

The label was meaningless. Everything in Bucky’s world had shifted the moment you were shoved through the door.

There was nothing left of him as you braced your bleeding hands on the same floor he sat. 

When you locked gazes with him—for the last time, Bucky would later remember—it was with finality. Your eyes told him you forgave him. You shook your head like you knew some secret he wasn’t privy to, and he tracked the movement with so much fear lodged in his chest—piercing at his ribs—that it hurt to breathe. 

What had you known? 

What had you heard? 

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. 

“Let her go. I’m—” Words meant nothing to this man. Bucky brought his face up to him, his broken, pleading face as he trembled beneath his next word. “Please.” 

“I do love to hear you beg. But this is for me, as well, Soldat. Who doesn’t love a little torture?” 

Bucky wouldn’t remember the wicked smile the man sent him after his damning words. He would only remember your scream. The panic that ruined him. 

I love you, hold on. Please, hold on. 

I’m so sorry, please.

Stop! Stop hurting her! I can’t—she can’t—

All spoken to unhearing ears. 

His weakness had never been a physical constraint, but from then on, Bucky did not feel strong. 

[hotreadingwitch]

MADE TO LIE - the mission

Y/N 

All heroes had flaws, for some, they were fatal. Tony had his arrogance, Steve his loyalty Natasha her guilt…Y/n Y/l/n, was too honest for her own good. She was a valued Avenger, sure, she succeeded on missions, comforted her teammates when they needed it, and always cleaned up after herself in the compound. On principle, however, she refused to lie, not knowing that her righteous honesty might be holding her back more than she realized. 

As she walked down the long windowed halls of the Avengers compound in Upstate New York she wondered why Tony had called to meet with her. She arrived quickly at the meeting room to see him sitting on the edge of the large table instead of in one of the tall-backed leather chairs.

“Hi Tony,” Y/n said with a smile, coming towards the billionaire before engulfing him in a tight hug.

“Hey Y/n” he greeted her warmly, squeezing back.

For a while, the pair chatted Tony occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall as he waited for the third member of their party to arrive. A moment later, Y/n saw Bucky appear on the other side of the room’s glass door. Her eyes widened, Bucky was tall, and Y/n had to admit it, handsome. He had thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, sparkling blue eyes, and cropped brown hair. Though he was usually freshly shaven, Y/n noticed that tonight he had a sprinkling of 5 o’clock shadow that somehow added naturally to the dramatic canyons of his slightly worn face.

She’d technically known Bucky since she’d become an Avenger a couple of years ago but she didn’t know him well at all. All she did know was that he appeared to be brusque and mostly kept to himself, only really warm in manner when talking to Steve, whom he trusted more than anyone else.

“Alright you two, I’m assigning you a mission,” Tony said interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. He looked between Bucky and Y/n with uncharacteristically serious eyes, “I’m sorry for being so mysterious”

“Who are we after this time?” Bucky questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“The Crane siblings” Tony continued, handing them each a file folder full of news clippings, photographs, and documents.

“Why do I know that name?” Y/n said to herself as she flipped through the pages. She remembered them vaguely, perhaps from the news, but she couldn’t recall all the details.

“They’re a pair of ruthless twins who run an underground group of criminals,” Bucky told Y/n before looking at the ground, “I worked with them in my Hydra years” 

A small silence descended upon the large room but Tony cleared his throat and quickly began to further describe the mission, discussing the Cranes and their illicit behaviour. Y/n noted that the wealthy twins mainly worked in ransom cases and money laundering while somehow managing to maintain a spot in New York’s high society. It wasn’t unheard of for the city’s elite to sneakily ignore crime and the police to take bribes but this case seemed worse than usual. 

“Sounds like a cheery group,” Y/n said sarcastically.

“Quite” Bucky added, his lip quirking upward into a small smile.

Their eyes met and Y/n could’ve sworn she saw an unexpected spark of something reflecting back at her. 

“We were hoping to set up a ruse that would pull them right into our net so that the Avengers could arrest them for good” 

He continued, detailing how they’d have to go undercover, to an extent. The idea made Y/n squirm her seat.

“Why pick Bucky and I, Tony?” She queried, “Not that I don’t trust your judgment…” 

“You two are the only single Avengers at the moment” he replied with a small chuckle as if the secret he was clearly sitting on the whole meeting had just tickled him gently in the ass. 

“Why do we need to be single? What is it exactly you want us to do?” Y/n asked then, her mind starting to race with possibilities.

“Well,” Tony stated, taking a deep breath, “You’d have to pretend to be a couple…”

Tony’s words sucked the air out of the room. He was asking her to lie, exactly what he knew she’d spent the last years of her life trying to avoid doing as best as possible. It wasn’t that she couldn’t lie, in all honesty, she was ironically a great liar due to her past… That didn’t mean that she wanted to. 

“You want us to date each other?” Y/n questioned incredulously, her aversion to the idea showing clearly on her face.

Bucky stayed quiet, as usual. 

“No” she responded stubbornly, “I won’t do it”

“Y/n, please” Tony begged, “No one is better for this mission than you two or else I wouldn’t be asking”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly as she pondered Tony’s proposition. She’d have to go against all her beliefs and lie. But at the same time, she’d be helping to take down an evil group of criminals that were a danger to the world. Her mind spun as she went back in forth between the two thoughts. Could she justify lying if it was to help keep people safe? 

Somehow another thought wormed its way into her mind, one that seemed so raunchy and intense that she had to squeeze her eyes closed. Being in a fake relationship with Bucky, being affectionate, maybe even kissing him…She shook away any notion of potential romance, remembering that this was strictly a mission, one that required her focus, her ‘A’ game. 

“Fine” she affirmed, sighing, “I’ll do it, but Tony, how will we convince them that we’re together so quickly? Won’t it take months of public outings or of social media posts to actually plant the seed in their minds?”

“Well you’re right about the public dates, we’ll put you two out in the field as bait eventually” Tony stated, “…But I’m also suggested you do something else, something more immediate and effective”

“What, Tony?” Bucky countered, his voice seemingly annoyed yet stern, “There’s something you’re not telling us” 

Tony smiled a practically evil grin…“We want you to make a sex tape”

“You’re joking—you—“ Y/n protested, looking frantically between the two men, “You can’t be serious Tony, what could possibly be the point of that?”

“It would leak and convince everyone that we were together instantly as long as we backed it up soon after with another outing” Bucky spelled out quietly.

Y/n looked over at him in disbelief. Was he really okay with this?

“Look” Bucky stated practically as if he’d heard her inner thoughts, “I know what you’re thinking Y/n, but I’ve done much worse in my life…a sex tape is nothing if we don’t make a big deal of it”

But it was a big deal to Y/n, having sex with someone just for the sake of a mission, in addition to lying about their relationship? Was this really necessary?

“You need to think about how essential this mission is. We want to lock those criminals up for good” he added, his eyes swimming with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

“I do too Bucky” Y/n replied gently, meeting his gaze, “I’m just not 100% comfortable with, you know…everything we have to do”.

“Our comfort doesn’t matter” he snarled, “Don’t you get this is bigger than us?”

“Yes, but you have to understand that there’s more to this for me than you know” she replied, this time snapping back, all her softness gone. 

“It doesn’t matter how you feel Y/n…Like I said, it’s bigger than us”

“Well, I guess I know where you stand,” she huffed, angrily. 

“Settle down you two” Tony interrupted, “You’ll need to put your differences aside in order for this mission to work. My mistake, I was under the impression that you were both professionals…” 

His challenging words hung in the air. 

“Fine” Y/n grumbled hesitantly, finally conceding, “For the good of the mission”

“Anyway,” he continued, “At some point soon, we’ll send you two out on a fake date after the tape has leaked with the hopes that they’ll come for you both, our team will have people waiting in the wings, we have a solid plan” 

“And what if they succeed, what if he gets hurt?” Y/n questioned, discomforting bile suddenly clinging to her throat. 

Tony’s eyebrow hitched upward.

“Neither of you will be in real danger” he spelled out slowly, eyeing her suspiciously, “the rest of the team will swoop in and arrest them as soon as they come for you” 

“If you think this is a good idea, Tony,” Y/n said, looking at her feet, “I trust you” 

She then got up and walked out of the room. Though she was clearly offended by the thought of the mission she couldn’t help but also be curious. A heat spread then on her neck. She turned, looking back at the two men, her y/e/c eyes meeting a pair of stormy blue ones. 

~

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … October 29

Iolaus and Heracles mosaic

1000+ BC – Iolaus was a Theban divine hero, son of Iphicles and Automedusa. He was famed for being Heracles's nephew and for helping with some of his Labors, and also for being one of the Argonauts. Through his daughter Leipephilene he was considered to have fathered the mythic and historic line of the kings of Corinth.

As a son of Iphicles, Iolaus was a nephew of Heracles. He often acted as Heracles' charioteer and companion. He was popularly regarded as Heracles's lover, and the shrine to him in Thebes was a place where male couples worshiped and made vows.

Iolaus (L) and Heracles (R) united by Eros

The Theban gymnasium was also named after him, and the Iolaeia, an athletic festival consisting of gymnastic and equestrian events, was held yearly in Thebes in his honor. The victors at the Iolaea were crowned with garlands of myrtle.

Iolaus provided essential help to Heracles in his battle against the Hydra, his second labor. Seeing that Heracles was being overwhelmed by the multi-headed monster (the Lernaean Hydra), who grew two heads in place of each one cut off, Iolaus sprang to help, cauterizing each neck as Heracles beheaded it.

1618 – Sir Walter Raleigh was executed on this date (b.1552). The famed English writer, poet, courtier and explorer was responsible for establishing the second English colony in the New World (after Newfoundland was established by Sir Humphrey Gilbert nearly one year previously, August 5 1583), on June 4, 1584, at Roanoke Island in present-day North Carolina.

The question for us here is this: Was Sir Walter Raleigh Christopher Marlowe's lover? Anything is possible, especially when so little is known about both. For many years, this provocative possibility has been suggested, even though it is based entirely on speculation. Marlowe wrote a poem titled, "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love," which begins with the charming invitation "Come live with me and be my love." A twin poem, "The Nymph's Reply to The Shepherd," appeared shortly thereafter, and there is little doubt that it was written by Raleigh out of love for Marlowe.

1931 – Clyde Hicks of North Carolina (official fucker!) was stationed in Hawaii, arrested on sodomy charges and sentenced to six years in prison. He was transferred to Alcatraz where he was put into solitary confinement for passing a note to another man. He was released in 1935.

Wayne Winterrowd (L) & Joe Eck

1941 – Wayne Winterrowd, American gardening expert and designer who wrote extensively on the subject, was born (d.2010). The garden Winterrowd and his partner built covered 7 acres at their Vermont home and became a tourist attraction to visitors from around the world.

Winterrowd, who was born in Shreveport, Louisiana, started gardening when he was three years old and read widely on the subject while he was growing up. Visits to an aunt who lived near Lake Pontchartrain helped him learn about gardening and he developed an interest in tropical plants on family trips to Florida and Cuba.

While teaching Jacobean literature at Tufts University in 1969, he first met Joe Eck, and they lived together in Denmark where Winterrowd had earned a Fulbright scholarship.

Together with Eck, Winterrowd learned as much as they could about gardening and earned a living by teaching English, French and Latin at area elementary and high schools. They spent the 1960s and 1970s as part of the homegrown food movement.

Moving from a farmhouse in Pepperell, Massachusetts to Readsboro, Vermont, Winterrowd and Eck devoted themselves to creating the North Hill garden, in which they grew Himalayan blue poppies, Japanese dogwoods, locust trees, magnolia, and stewartias. They cleared the hilly wooded land they had acquired, planting a diverse variety of plants, including as many as 100,000 daffodil bulbs. The garden drew visitors from around the world to their home in Southern Vermont near the Massachusetts border.They also grew fresh vegetables and raised dairy cows, pigs and poultry. Roger Swain, host of the Public Broadcasting Service television series The Victory Garden said "Their garden is of such quality and diversity that it rivals any in Europe. But there is nothing derivative about North Hill; it is American gardening at its best", with Fergus Garrett crediting Winterrowd and Eck with being "one of the driving forces in North American horticulture."

Winterrowd and Eck traveled across the United States and Canada to design customized gardens for their customers.

Winterrowd and Eck were joined in a civil union in 2000 and were married in 2009 after Vermont legalized same-sex marriage. Winterrowd died at age 68 on September 17, 2010, at his home in Readsboro, Vermont due to heart failure. He was survived by Eck and by a son they adopted.

The Swiss Guards in traditional uniform.

1954 – Alois Estermann (d.1998) was a senior officer of the Swiss Guard who was murdered in his apartment in the Vatican City.

Estermann was born in Gunzwil, in the Canton of Lucerne. In 1998 he was appointed as Commander of the Pontifical Swiss Guard.

According to official Vatican statements, Estermann and his Venezuelan wife, Gladys Meza Romero, were killed in May 1998 by a young Swiss Guard Cédric Tornay, who later committed suicide. Estermann, formerly acting commander of the Swiss Guard, had been confirmed in his position the same day. Tornay had earlier been reprimanded for breaches of discipline and had been passed over for a medal routinely awarded to Guards after three years of service.

The British journalist, John Follain, undertook extensive interviews with key witnesses to the murders to inform his book, City of Secrets: The Truth behind the murders at the Vatican (2006). Follain dismisses speculation that Estermann, his wife, and Tornay were murdered by an external fourth party or that Estermann was a spy for the former East German government.

Follain's research indicated that Cédric Tornay did indeed kill his commander, and his commander's wife before turning the gun on himself. Tornay found the running of the Swiss Guard archaic, and resented the dominance of the Swiss German majority contingent. Tornay turned to Alois Estermann for affection, and enjoyed a short homosexual affair. Their relationship deteriorated into acrimony as Tornay realised that Estermann had betrayed him with another guard. Estermann's close links to the Opus Dei movement, and his final refusal to award the benemeriti medal for 3-years service led to further frustration and Tornay's ultimate decision to kill Estermann.

Pope John Paul II personally celebrated Estermann's Funeral Mass in the church of Saints Martin and Sebastian.

1985 – Gio Benitez is an American broadcast journalist and correspondent for ABC News, who appears on Good Morning America, World News Tonight, 20/20, and Nightline. He also hosts the Fusion version of Nightline. He has won two television news Emmy awards.

Benitez was born in Miami, Florida to Cuban parents. He is a 2004 graduate of Miami Coral Park High School. In 2008, Benitez graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology and Sociology from Florida International University. He is fluent in both English and Spanish.

Benitez joined ABC News in 2013. He has covered a wide range of stories for the network, including the Boston Marathon bombing; The Alabama child held hostage underground in an eight-day standoff; the American mother stuck in a Mexican jail and nearly every major snow storm that swept the nation during the winter of 2013.

Before joining ABC News in 2013, he was a reporter for WFOR, the CBS owned-and-operated TV station in Miami, where he covered the 2012 Presidential election and reported extensively on the Trayvon Martin case.

Benitez married longtime partner Tommy DiDario in front of family, friends, and ABC News colleagues inside the historic Walton House in Miami, Florida in April 2016.

Gio Benitez with husband Tommy DiDario

1989 – Under the headline "Peek-a-Boo," New York's Outweek magazine publishes a list of 66 celebrities and public figures who are allegedly gay but closeted. The article marks the beginning of controversial "outing" by some gay activists.

1995 – On this date in Iran, a 31 year old man was convicted of "ugly and improper conduct" and sentenced to twenty lashes for cross-dressing.

1997 – U.S. Congressman Barney Frank introduced a bill calling for the extension of health insurance coverage to the domestic partners of US federal employees through the federal employee health program.

2011 – Died: Axel Axgil (b.1915), Danish gay activist. Axel and Eigil Axgil (b.1922 - d.1995) were a longtime couple. They were the first gay couple to enter into a registered partnership anywhere in the world following Denmark's legalisation of same-sex partnership registration in 1989, a landmark legislation which they were instrumental in bringing about. They adopted the shared surname, Axgil, a combination of their given names, as an expression of their commitment.

Axel, born Axel Lundahl-Madsen, and Eigil, born Eigil Eskildsen, inspired by the 1948 UN Declaration of Human Rights, together with several friends, founded F-48 or Forbundet af 1948 (The Association of 1948), Denmark's first gay rights organization. By 1951, F-48's membership had grown to 1,339 and there were branches in Sweden and Norway. In 1985, F-48 became the Danish National Association of Gays and Lesbians (Landsforeningen for Bøsser og Lesbiske, Forbundet af 1948 or LBL). The couple launched a magazine, Vennen (The Friend).

In 1989, Denmark became the first nation in the world to recognize domestic partnerships for same-sex couples. On October 1, 1989, the Axgils and 10 other Danish couples were married by Tom Ahlberg, the deputy mayor of Copenhagen, in the city hall, accompanied by worldwide media attention. The Axgils had been a couple for 40 years.

Eigil Axgil died on September 22, 1995 at the age of 73. Axel Axgil died on October 29, 2011 at the age of 96.