#industrial hood cleaning

[cgccanopycleaning]

Range Hood Cleaning

We have been one of the best Commercial Canopy Cleaning industries, providing services to thousands of restaurants in Melbourne and Victoria. We are one of Melbourne’s famous range hood cleaning.

Call now: (03) 9329 2411

[techtimia-engineering]

Kitchen Hood an innovative and state-of-the-art ventilation option

A kitchen hood is an appliance that has been specifically designed to eliminate greasy fumes in the kitchen thereby assisting in the maintenance of the home. This innovative appliance is usually mounted directly above cooking ranges so that it directly captures, filters, and puts out grease that is formed by cooking oily and greasy foods. These kitchen hoods are also integrated with exhaust fans and sometimes lights to assist in working on the cooktop properly without any visual hindrances.

While speaking about the functionality, the mechanism is quite simple, the skirt or the funnel that jets out onto the cooktop sucks grease and smoke through the help of an exhaust fan. And it is thrown out through the ductwork thereby removing the greasy air from the kitchen area. Some sophisticated kitchen hoods are also integrated with air filters that clean the air from outside and bring them in so that fresh air circulates within the cooking area which is termed as recirculating. However these call for a bit of extra maintenance that has to be carried out periodically to keep them working well and efficiently. In any case, the kitchen hood installation services must be carried out by a qualified and experienced technician only.  

Choosing a kitchen hood also needs meticulous thinking and planning and some discussions with the people in the business of kitchen hood installation. Although there is quite a good range of kitchen hoods that are designed and made available, for the kitchen to function well and perform at its best, more emphasis has to be placed on the cooking top and the kitchen setup in order to make sure that the kitchen hood functions as per the requirements.

Techtimia is your trusted partner in comprehensive machinery maintenance services that offers first-class services in aircon repair services, air duct cleaning services and plumbing services backed up with excellent management, well-planned executions, wise and meticulous administration, precise forecasting, following the project blueprint, and accomplishing the job.

Techtimia is an Industrial Engineering Services company for large and medium scaled engineering companies, we undertake air-conditioning refrigeration & ventilation system services from regular maintenance to emergency repairs. Whether it’s for your home or business keeping your plumbing maintained can reduce the need for repairs, we are involved with all types of plumbing services Singapore for domestic and commercial work.  We provide the best HVAC repair services Singapore. Techtimia teams ensure that your commercial HVAC systems and applications run efficiently and keep your buildings in top form.  Techtimia provides quality aircon drain pan cleaning services such as installation, repair and maintenance, chemical washing, overhauling, refrigerant gas top-up, filters, cooling coils, and drain pan cleaning in Singapore. We also provide professional ACMV services Singapore for commercial and residential premises where we remove dirt, indoor allergens, and contaminants by improving your air quality.  AHU / FCU with maximum performance, unparalleled design flexibility, and superior serviceability. The air handling unit is usually connected to a central HVAC system suitable for air cooling.

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[drdemonprince]

is there a reason a lot of transmascs and trans men gravitate towards puppy play/pup related kink? it’s something i’ve noticed on the online trans community

It's not a transmasc specific thing at all. Pup play's stock is up in a massive way across a variety of communities for several reasons.

Pup play's popularity began with the gay male community, where it largely originated. Most of the major manufacturers of pup play gear are still gay men's fetishwear companies, and the kink has been enjoyed in that scene for decades because it evokes a kind of soft masculine playfulness and a gentle power dynamic, with potential elements of deindividuation and primalness that speak to a variety of people.

(It also gives men an opportunity to be tender with one another in a way that doesn't evoke gendered baggage of casting any partner as "the woman," or as less of a "man," and that also I think lent it massive appeal. )

The gay male kink community tends to have a lot more money and access to more clubs and venues than other queer communities do, and so we see a lot of experimentation and trendy-ness in its kink scene. Lots of guys have the expendable income to buy up new gear, and dungeons to play with them in. Because of this, sexual trends move quickly in the gay male world -- piss similarly had a deluge of popularity in recent years, and hypno as well. Chastity too, and now latex. Anything new and exciting that you can buy, wear, and play with will have its moment in the scene, and sprout a whole new cottage industry around it. Once the gay male dollars are flowing in, a whole kink economy forms.

As pup play was becoming a more widespread gay male kink activity, furries caught onto it as an alternative to the more expensive and cumbersome fursuiting. This has been VERY noticeable as someone who has been attending Midwest Furfest continuously since 2017. The first few years that I was going, I never saw any pup hoods (and friends who have been in the scene far longer than me have echoed this as well). There just wasn't an overlap between pups and furs much at all.

Now at furry events, there is a MASSIVE contingent of pups, and many events centered on pups and pup play. Everywhere you go at the conventions you will see hoards of pups roving around with their owners, and vendors of pup gear peddling tails, collars, muzzles, hoods, hand mitts, leashes, and more.

Compared to fursits, pup hoods are cheaper, easier to clean, easier to find, less prone to damage, more comfortable to wear, lighter weight, and can be snapped onto a belt loop or fanny pack and carried around all day. Yet it still provides an animalistic appearance and anonymity, and the ability to play with an inhuman headspace. Furries flocked to pup hoods because it had a low barrier to entry -- just $50 or so for a headpiece, many of the models customizable in a variety of colors. You can even use your pup hood color to flag what you are into!

After pup play exploded across the furry scene, it got exposed naturally to a larger contingent of trans people. Lots of furries are trans people, and vice versa, and so pup hoods spread from the Rockets and Mittens to the Aidans and Cassandras of the world with ease. Even people who aren't furries or especially kinky now find pup play adorable, for it taps into a lot of existing kinks that are also really popular right now.

We're in a zeigest that emphasizes softness and comfort, and the longing for escape from the capitalist grind and the world's horrors -- people are listening to womblike music in softly lit rooms with the curtains drawn and fantasizing about becoming stay-at-home girlfriends and cottagecore boywifes and shit.

Becoming an adored puppy who sexually services their owner in return for pets and snacks and never has to work a day in their life is highly appealing to a TON of people. Some of them, indeed, are trans guys. But if you explore the fetish and porn worlds widely (as I do), you'll see that pup play has also become massively popular among cishet people too!

Puppy girl Jenna is a massive Tiktok and OnlyFans phenomenon! Even the most basic of ahegaoing chicks on redgifs are wearing muzzles and tail butt plugs! Everybody is into puppy play right now because it is an accessible, nonthreatening, cutesy kink that allows people to envision themselves existing safely within a comforting power dynamic where they can be adored and all their problems are gone. Lots of headspacey, cuddly, escapist kinks like Bimbo have become popular for these reasons too.

And there you have it! From the early days in the leather bars to today's era of cage tours on Tiktok, pup play is very much IN with just about every sexually adventurous crowd. This has been the devon price kink stock report.

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

I. Hermes

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ chapter summary: After an inexplicable rush, your second favorite customer comes in for the second day in a row.

⋆｡°✩wc: 1.6k

⋆｡°✩content warnings: none

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist (there is a prologue before this part!!)

Your day began as most did. After waking and freshening up, you begin baking bright and early for the weekday ahead of you. For a relatively new business, you have a decent amount of customers each day, and with little to no negative feedback. It feels nice, especially since starting a business in the service industry was known to be very difficult.

However, today, you are slammed. 

Everyone and their mother is visiting your bakery, the small building space was packed for what seemed like hours. You had to get your one employee, Ivan, in early to help out, because this sort of rush was not something you could tackle alone. People were lined up at the back of the door, and each booth and table were full. And when a table isn’t occupied, it's being cleaned for the next customer to take.

The room surrounds itself with a bright and warm ambiance with many conversations filling the air, and it's enjoyable, though it may be overwhelming as all hell. Ultimately, watching people enjoy your food and your space never fails to cap your heart with fulfillment, regardless of how stress-inducing it could get.

The oddest part of the rush is that you're having loads of Fatui agents visit your shop. You've served your fair share of Fatui before, but never at this caliber. Usually, they were aloof and curt. But today, you could almost say they were polite to you, most even tipped a few extra mora with their order. You were mulling over the phenomenon as the fifth pyro agent of the morning walked up to your counter. 

“What can I get for you?” You smile up at a agent with his hood and mask covering his face.

 “I need a slice of praga cake. Oh and a slice of apple cake, both to go?” He asks, his voice almost... timid.

“Of course, is that all you want?” You ask as you pack up his two slices of cake.

“No,” He exchanges his money for your goods, “Thank you ma’am.”

Once placing a generous tip on your counter, he briskly leaves the shop. That, much like many other interactions that day, left you in a stunned state. Not only had a Fatui agent called you ‘ma’am’ and left a large tip, but he seemed more nervous than their usual stoic demeanor. 

After a while, the rush slowed, with fewer Fatui agents making their stay in your bakery. Must be time to do shady government business in the Tsaritsa’s name, you think. You begin cleaning up the dining area, picking up plates and glasses, as well as sweeping up excess crumbs on the ground.  

“Ivan, could you please ice that cake?” You ask your employee as you return behind the counter, “I’ll let you off early when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am,” The boy responds attentively as he turns around toward the baking counter. You observe him for a moment, observing how his talent surrounding baking has improved since he began working for you. Ivan came in begging for a job just a few short months ago as a way to make an extra buck during the weekend, and you remember not necessarily needing an extra hand at the bakery. But the teenage boy seemed like he needed the funds, promised to work hard, and hasn't let you down.

It's days like these where find that nothing else brings you more peace than crafting for others, serving them something that you are proud of and that they love almost as much as you do. The tranquility that you found within your bakery was like no other, and besides the stress that came with the rush, you were truly grateful for it.

What you couldn’t pinpoint was how the rush started. You ponder over how it could be possible, you didn’t boost your advertising recently, and it wasn’t a holiday nor was it a weekend. Though thankful, you can’t get over your confusion.

Hours passed by, Ivan finished his shift a while ago, so you were left alone to fend for yourself. By now, the rush had long passed and you only had a few customers coming in at a time, so you weren’t too concerned about working alone. You're finishing refilling the shelves when you hear the doorbell of your bakery, signifying someone entering your shop. 

You look up before greeting the customer, only to be met with the same unforgettably cold eyes that you served last night. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tartaglia,” You quickly flash a smile before getting back to work placing pastries into the display case.

“Mister? Do I seem that old to you?” He asks, a friendly smile back on his lips. 

“No, I’m just being formal with my customer,” You push yourself up to meet his eyes.

“Is that all I am to you? A customer?” He puts a hand over his heart and displays some sort of mocking tone, “ I thought I made a better impression than that, Ms. Y/N.”

You lean in over the counter to the man, close enough to be able to whisper, “Do you talk to everyone like that?” 

Tartaglia swallows, stiffening up ever so slightly.

“No, just the ones who make Snezhnaya’s best apple cake,” He answers back, just as quiet as you were. 

You scoff yet again as you push away from him, “Is this your way of getting food from me? Like the little stunt you pulled last night?”  

Before you can humor him any longer, you find yourself cutting a slice of cake for him, and ignoring his existence otherwise. 

“Speaking of, I have something else for you,” You say before taking off upstairs. His face molds into one of confusion, holding a plate of warm cake while you disappear. 

You come back down a few moments later, and his eyes fall on the pouch of mora he gave you. Before he can object, you place the pouch into his free hand and return back to the counter.

“Did you not like my peace offering, Y/N?” He asks, and the way his name rolls off your tongue makes you feel a little flushed.

“Peace offering?” You cross your arms and snap back at the man.

“You’re snarky, лисичка. I thought a little tip may extinguish your unbridled hatred for me, though it seems I’ve failed,” He says back, taking a seat facing the counter. You giggle at his last statement, his dramatization of your feelings pulls a chuckle out of you. 

“Giving me nicknames already? After like… 24 hours?” You ask him, “You’ve got stones.”

It was his turn to laugh before taking a forkful of cake to his mouth, and then making an ‘mm’ sound out of satisfaction. He continues scarfing down his dessert, though his eyes keep watch on you. Specifically, where your vision sat on your hip.

“Do you put that to use?” He asks, his hand pointing to your vision. 

“Sometimes,” You brush off the question, “I take commissions occasionally, usually when traveling.” 

He smirks at that, and you don’t miss it. 

“Do you use yours?” You ask back and watch him nod in pride, you hum at his nonverbal response, “We should spar sometime, though I’d probably smoke you.”

You notice how his demeanor perks up even more, his sudden excitable emotion is slightly scary. His happiness in response to your offer was frightening, to say the least.

He already carries an almost mischievous aura with him, and you begin to think that play-fighting with him would be a mistake on your part. Or it could have come off as flirting to him, which you definitely do not want to take any part in.

“I have to get going,” Tartaglia says as he begins to stand, “Tonya wanted me to hang out with her for a bit tonight.”

He makes his way toward the front counter, closer to you. 

“Oh no!” You respond in a dryly sarcastic tone, “What a shame.” 

He scoffs at you as he places his elbow on the counter, with his head in his hand. He looks up at you with an over-exaggerated frown and a puppy-dog demeanor. “Sooo…” He taps his other hand on the counter, “When are you going to teach me how to make that cake?” 

You cock an eyebrow at him with a hand on your hip, not having it with him, “I’m not giving you my recipe for free.”

You turn away to begin cleaning your miniature oven, and expect him to leave. Yet you don’t hear any sort of movement behind you. You quickly turn back around with an exasperated sigh and look straight at the man, who’s position didn’t change.

“I’m not leaving,” He says in a sing song tone.

“Let me think," You snap back.

Teaching him how to bake something would have to be after the bakery closes. So it would just be the two of you. And he’d be so annoyingly him that you’d probably have to recharge your social battery for the next three days following that. Also, you don’t want your kitchen secrets unveiled to anyone. And, ultimately, you’re smart enough to know that this whole thing has nothing to do with an apple cake. But, it would get him to stop pestering you at the moment. 

You look up from the desert case and straight into his cold, cerulean eyes, “I'm free two nights from now.”

You see the edge of Tartaglia’s faux frown sprout up into a small smile as he stands up with his hands held onto the edge of the counter. He remains hunched down enough to where his face is in line with yours. And as if he was accepting a challenge, he begins to part ways with you for the day. 

“I’ll see you then.”

 ⋆｡°✩translation: Лисичка- it’s a term like “fox” or “little-fox”

⋆｡°✩a/n: hiiiii!!! I want to get the next chapter out soon, and i hope y'all enjoy this one! i hope you are all doing well <333 thank you for reading

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

I had never thought about the fact that snakes would have more than the set of initial fangs so that post you did on snake bites is fascinating!! Thank you so much for all the information you give us, it is very much appreciated how much time and effort you put in to helping people learn about snakes!!

I have a couple questions for you regarding snakes teeth!

1. Do all snakes have the same amount of teeth once they've reached adult hood or do different breeds have different amounts for their specific needs?

2. Do snakes have and lose their "baby" teeth and grow in adult ones like other animals and humans? Or do they grow with the snake as they age?

3. I work in the veterinary industry with dogs and cats and your post also made me think about if snakes would need dental care like dogs and cats do, like would you ever have to have a snake have a tooth pulled if there was an issue with it? Made me picture a little snake under anesthesia with its little tongue hanging out while getting it's teeth cleaned like I see with dogs and cats and it made me laugh!

Sorry if these are silly questions, again thank you so so much for all your hard work 🩷🩷

Great questions!!

First thing, before I get into your specific questions: not all snakes have fangs! There are exceptions, but snakes generally fall into four dentition categories.

Aglyphous dentition is when snakes don't have fangs at all. Teeth are generally the same size and shape. All nonvenomous snakes, like boas and pythons, fall into this category! These snakes tend to have a lot of teeth (hundreds!) and they can be in a single row or multiple rows.

Then there's solenoglyphous dentition, which is what people generally think of when we talk about snake teeth. There's comparatively very few teeth and two large, hinged fangs that fold up against the roof of the mouth. Vipers are solenoglyphs.

Next, there's proteroglyphous dentition, which looks similar to solenoglyphous dentition except the fangs are much smaller and always in place. Elapids (cobras and their relatives) have this type.

The last major type of snake dentition is opisthoglyphous dentition, which are our rear-fanged venomous colubrids. These snakes have large fangs at the back of their mouths; it's kinda a garbage fang system but they're doing their best. Hognoses, boomslangs, and most other venomous colubrids are here.

Okay, now that we've got the basics out of the way...

Baby snakes are born with the same number as adults, but as I'm sure you've already guessed from the pictures above, the number varies wildly by species! Snakes average around 50-100 teeth across species, with the number skewing upwards thanks to nonvenomous snakes, but vipers and elapids typically have less than fifty.

Snakes don't have baby teeth! Teeth fall out and are replaced throughout their lives.

Snakes generally don't need dental care (although that image is super cute!). However, teeth can totally cause problems. The most common ones I see are stuck teeth - because snake jaws are so flexible, sometimes they accidentally get a tooth stuck in their gums. That can usually be fixed by simply gently guiding the snake's mouth open, but sometimes stuck teeth do require professional help. Even at its most complicated, dental care for snakes usually just involves a round of antibiotics in the case of infections - problem teeth often fall out on their own or are easily pulled with the help of local pain relief.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1955 Chrysler C-300

1955 Chrysler C-300: A Glimpse into the Golden Age of American Automobiles

The year 1955 marked a significant milestone in the history of American automotive engineering and design. It was a time when automakers were pushing the boundaries of performance, style, and innovation, and one car that epitomized this spirit was the 1955 Chrysler C-300. Often regarded as the first modern American muscle car, the C-300 not only represented a radical departure from conventional automobiles but also left an enduring legacy in the world of automotive enthusiasts. In this extensive exploration, we delve into the history, design, performance, and cultural impact of the 1955 Chrysler C-300, a symbol of the golden age of American automobiles.

The Birth of a Legend

The 1955 Chrysler C-300, where "C" stood for "Continental," was more than just a car; it was a statement of power, luxury, and style. Born out of Chrysler's desire to reclaim its position as a dominant force in American automobile manufacturing, the C-300 was a bold departure from the brand's previous offerings. It was the brainchild of Chrysler engineer and visionary, Bob Rodger, who saw an opportunity to marry a high-performance V8 engine with a full-sized luxury car, creating a new breed of American automobile.

Design: Classic Elegance with a Touch of Sport

The design of the 1955 Chrysler C-300 was a harmonious blend of classic elegance and sporty aesthetics. The car featured clean, uncluttered lines with a distinctive grille that became one of its signature design elements. The iconic, vertically stacked quad headlights and a wide, bold grille made a bold and unmistakable statement on the road. The subtle yet pronounced fins at the rear added a touch of sophistication and conveyed a sense of motion even when the car was at a standstill.One of the most striking design elements of the C-300 was its two-tone color scheme. Many C-300s featured a contrasting roof color, which accentuated the car's sleek profile. The attention to detail and craftsmanship in the exterior design set the C-300 apart as a true luxury automobile.

The interior of the C-300 was equally impressive. It featured sumptuous materials, tasteful chrome accents, and a driver-centric dashboard. Plush leather seats provided both comfort and support, making long drives a pleasure. The cabin was spacious, allowing passengers to enjoy the ride in style and luxury.

Performance: The Birth of American Muscle

What truly set the 1955 Chrysler C-300 apart was its groundbreaking performance. Under the hood, it was powered by the legendary Hemi V8 engine, which had already gained a reputation for its power and efficiency. In the case of the C-300, the Hemi V8 was tuned to deliver a staggering 300 horsepower, an unprecedented figure for a production car of its time. This made the C-300 the most powerful American car of 1955.The combination of a high-performance engine and advanced engineering made the C-300 a formidable force on the racetrack. In fact, it dominated the NASCAR circuit in its debut year, winning eight of the 16 races it entered. This racing success solidified the C-300's reputation as a true performance car, earning it the nickname "Banker's Hot Rod."

Engineering Innovations

The 1955 Chrysler C-300 introduced several engineering innovations that set the stage for future developments in the automotive industry. The Hemi V8 engine was at the forefront of these innovations. It featured hemispherical combustion chambers, which allowed for better airflow and combustion efficiency. This, in turn, contributed to the engine's remarkable power output and smooth operation.

Another notable innovation was the use of power-assisted brakes and power steering, both of which enhanced the car's drivability and safety. These features were a testament to Chrysler's commitment to providing a superior driving experience.

Cultural Impact and LegacyThe-1955-Chrysler-C-300

The 1955 Chrysler C-300 had a profound cultural impact that reverberates to this day. It represented a paradigm shift in American automotive manufacturing, heralding the dawn of the muscle car era. The C-300's racing successes on the NASCAR circuit elevated its status and contributed to the popularity of stock car racing in the United States.The car's blend of luxury and performance appealed to a new generation of consumers who desired both power and style. It embodied the American spirit of innovation and ambition, and its success inspired other automakers to explore the concept of high-performance production cars.

The legacy of the C-300 extends beyond its time. It laid the foundation for the muscle car movement of the 1960s and 1970s, influencing iconic models like the Ford Mustang, Chevrolet Camaro, and Dodge Charger. The C-300 remains a coveted collector's item, a symbol of an era when American automakers pushed the limits of engineering and design.

Conclusion

The 1955 Chrysler C-300 is a testament to the ingenuity, ambition, and creativity that defined the golden age of American automobiles. It represented a bold departure from the norm, marrying luxury with high-performance engineering in a way that captured the imagination of a generation. As a cultural icon and a pioneering force in the automotive world, the C-300 continues to inspire and captivate enthusiasts and collectors, ensuring its enduring legacy in the annals of automotive history.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Unexpected Delivery

There had been many changes when their father returned home. Some were new, some were the old status quo reasserting itself.

As Jeff had taken over the daily running of Tracy Industries and the paperwork associated with International Rescue, Scott had managed to take back some of his old duties on the Island.

One of those was unpacking the supplies Virgil regularly brought back from the mainland.

First was the perishables: foods, some of Brains’ more exotic experimental materials, whatever-the-hell it was that Gordon was ordering in to assist in rehabilitating their surrounding sea-scape. Personal deliveries came second, portioning out the mail orders; of which a not-insignificant portion was personal food stocks – Grandma still couldn’t be dissuaded from cooking, even though everyone now had more time to contribute to kitchen duties. Third was domestic consumables: toilet paper, light bulbs, cleaning supplies, and personal grooming and hygiene products – including so much deodorant. And then maintenance supplies; raw materials for production of the custom parts necessary for the maintenance of the Thunderbirds, parts for maintenance for the Villa and auxiliary buildings.

It was a comfortable routine, and one that Scott enjoyed, especially dealing with the maintenance supplies. Checking the packing slip against their internal register of projected deliveries, using the pallet-bot to deposit the large crates and bins at the appropriate areas, before unpacking the individual crates, confirming the itemised stock within, and storing them in the appropriate locations, as he updated the warehousing inventory.

It was a simple – and satisfying – job.

Today there was an extra crate. A large roughly square crate, one and one half to two metres in every dimension and solidly built. Scott frowned at it. There was no sender’s ident, and the anonymous holographic label implanted in the rough-hewn, tightly-spaced wooden slats simply read ‘International Rescue’.

Nothing was unaccounted for on the projected deliveries. There was nothing left over from previous runs, nothing on back order.

Scott checked Virgil’s collection register. This package had been collected from their mail facility at Tracy Industries Headquarters, the security assessment on this crate was attached. Nothing untoward. No radiation, no explosive compounds, no biological matter …

Thunderbird Two’s pod sensors hadn’t detected a threat, either.

“What is it?”

Scott started, jumping as the Mechanic materialised beside him, looking between Scott and the crate curiously.

A slight hesitation – he still hadn’t fully overcome his distrust of the other man, nor had the Mechanic suddenly taken a liking to him – and he explained the situation.

“Only one way to find out. If all the scans are clear.”

Scott waved his tablet at the man, who, after a second, took it, and considered the record trail. He handed the tablet back, and summoned two of his ‘scorpion’ mechas to the crate.

“Better blow them up, than us, if your scans are wrong,” was the response to Scott’s raised eyebrow.

Scott agreed without hesitation. The crate was in a secure section of the hangars, there was no danger to any of their equipment – they had learnt that the hard way, soon after Jeff had … gone on sabbatical. The two men backed off a respectful distance, and watched as the two machines surged forward, powerful pinchers forcing themselves under the lid and prising it up, before skittering around the crate to settle either side of it, like guardians.

The back of the lid was hinged, and a holographic sign projected against the rough and splintery wood. ‘A gift. From a friend.’

The two men approached cautiously. And stared in shock at what lay on the straw at the bottom of the crate.

The Hood, bound hand and foot – hands behind his back – lay half curled with in the space. His naked body bruised and bloody, the slight rise and fall of his chest the only sign the man was alive.

Scott Tracy – Commander of International Rescue, First Responder, Qualified Paramedic, and Survivor of a POW Camp – swallowed his bile as he took in the sight of the bloody and weeping bandage around the man’s head that ineffectively protected what he knew would be the bloody and empty socket where the cybernetic eye had been.

Mutely Scott and the Mechanic stared at each other, both searching for answers the other didn’t have.

How were they ever going to explain this?

Notes:

Febuwhump Day 21 “Unresponsive”.

Whoops. I totally missed posting this one on the date. Other important dates I have missed include my mothers, and my niece's birthdays. Oh well, off to the dog house!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[seat-safety-switch]

There are two kinds of people in the world. On one hand, you have the folks who get super upset when an oil tanker spills and irreversibly contaminates precious natural resources, destroying our planet in the name of short-term profit. On the other hand, you’ve got the kind of folks who immediately commission a sketchy series of near-criminals into purchasing a disused scientific trawler because some idiot left a bunch of free oil out there and I don’t want to have to do the valve cover gaskets on my engine.

All it takes, really, is a big scoop on the front of a boat. A big scoop is something we can absolutely make. Most of us have experience fabricating rulebook-pleasing hood scoops from Princess Auto snow shovels, recycle bins left out on the side of the road, road signs, and human ribcages. Still not sure how Big Al got ahold of that, and, no matter what you may think of me, I’m not going to ask him while we’re sharing a room on this tiny little research ship.

You might think that once you’ve hoovered up the oil, it’s a good idea to separate out the water, or at least desalinate it a little bit, before you put it into an engine. And we did that, through gravity. The big tank in the bottom of the ship holds all of it and we just took a bunch of soup ladles from the kitchen and put it into old pails. Refine it? Nothing doing, college folks: like I said, the wheezy-ass slant six in this Volare blows through oil so fast that it probably won’t even notice as long as it’s slippery enough. Hell, it could be expired mayonnaise, but the grocery store recently started locking up their dumpster at night again. 

Really, the worst part of all this is the attention we got. As soon as the local government figured out that we were in the area, cleaning up one of the world’s most atrocious ecological disasters, they wanted to give us some medals and invite us to give speeches. And we’re not really about that, especially because the increased attention likely means that some plutocrat-worshipping federale will start scrutinizing us out of spite, looking for a “gotcha” to punish us for making the oil industry look worse. A gotcha like “noticing our license plates are made with crayon.” You just can’t do anything nice for people anymore without it becoming so polarized, but on the plus side Shaky Earl got a great gig at the United Nations. He did have to start bringing a drip tray to work, though, because his reserved parking space was starting to look a little oily.

[red-eagle-fire-protection]

Ensure Peak Performance with Expert Hood Cleaning Services from Red Eagle Fire Protection LA

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[eros-agape-art]

The gang is finished, everyone has complete bases. So! Detailed descriptions of my changes below 👇 Alan is not included because he already has a description in the post I introduced him and the most recent post about Alan.

Charlie- I decided to go more the "goat" route with her design. She is nearly as tall as Angel Dust, she just seems shorter than she should because of her pose. She has small feathered wings, to represent her angel heritage, however they are small because they are underdeveloped. She is unable to fly as she cannot move them to the extent needed for flight capability, she can barely move them at all, nor can she tuck or fold them. I gave her more definite horns with a floating apple motif at the top, think of it like jewelry. She often goes by Charlotte although her friends and loved ones call her Charlie.

Vox- Vox is the Hotel Benefactor in this AU and supports Charlie in her ventures. He acts more like a solid father figure than Alastor and is more of an open person. When he was alive, he was a TV host. A charming personality and a kind man at heart. In '55 he was briefly drafted into the Vietnam War until he was too injured to continue and was sent home. He regretted many of the decisions he had to make there, feeling like a monster as he was only 25 at the time. When he returned home he recovered some and resumed his work, this time opting to produce affordable technology for those who could not afford it. Unfortunately this would be his demise. One poorly timed installation of a television set during a thunderstorm led to him being struck by lightning. He still distributes tech after his death through his company Voxtech Industries. I made him a little bulkier than the original and gave him a more 50's look, complete with a 50's TV. He is also still an Overlord.

Niffty- I decided to make her more bug like. I took inspiration from a tortoise beetle and a stag beetle.I didn't change too much with her personality wise, she is still a manic, but she puts more effort into caring for those who can't care for themselves... in her own weird and twisted ways. She runs a company know as NCRIM or Niffty's Cleaning and Revitalizing Interpersonal Maintenance, and she is an Overlord.

Husk- I didn't change too much, his concept is pretty solid to me as a surface level concept. I only tweaked slight things to tend to my au better. In this au he is still an Overlord and still runs his casino.

Angel Dust- I changed Angel quite a bit design wise, but not so much personality. Angel still works for Valentino, still a porn star, and will still love Husk. For the design, I made Angel still very tall and slim, but I gave him more of a solid chest. I like the idea of him having the fluffy chest, but I feel like the "fluff" doesn't move as it should in the show, it is just fluff after all, so it shouldn't be as solid as it seems to be. I also gave Angel some mandibles and the "spider butt". I also changed Angel's hair because it looks right for the show but it looks off for me personally. I also gave him the "small spider feet" I don't really know how to call it, but I gave him thin feet. I also moved his arms up to the shoulder with the other pair, because anatomy I guess, it just made more sense to me.

Sir Pentious- I didn't really change pentious, he's still pretty much the same except for the eye placements on his inner hood and tail. His personality isn't really different either.

Vaggie- I changed quite a bit for Vaggie. I decided to lean into the moth theme more and bring that put in her design. I gave her moth wings and antenna and more anthropomorphic legs. I like to think that the moth look came after her fall, as the time she's spent in hell has changed her like metamorphosis. So the longer she stays in hell the more it influences her, the more she becomes a part of hell. She is heaven born in this au so she would assimilate into being a hell born. I also changed the design of her Spear for no apparent reason other than why not.

Cherry Bomb- She is pretty different than in the show. I haven't changed her personality but her physical appearance is different. I've decided to make her bombs more of a physical part of herself. She has what I depict as horns that "grow" her bombs as a biological process. Like how one kind of insect I can't remember the name of does. I also made her feet into heels, like permanent pumps.

Lucifer- I lent into the goat for the legs to relate him to Charlie more as well as the horns with the apple motif. For his wings, I heard somewhere [don't quote me on this I've never read the bible] I think it was from LovesArt123, that when Lucifer fell his wings burnt and became more like bat wings in structure. I sort of did the same thing for his tail as well. I gave him more of a proper halo, I honestly wasn't planning that but I rolled with it, and I gave him more than one pair of eyes. He's the king of hell, shouldn't he have more eyes to view others with? The pose I used had the person carrying a lantern and I thought it would be funny if he just lanterns to head to the fridge for depression food at night. So he uses lanterns to navigate at night, not that he can't see in the dark because he can, it's others not realizing he's there that he uses the lantern.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Lily of the Valley

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason Todd dies and comes back to life. As the League takes him in, he navigates his morality and family values over the years.

Chapters: 10/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Talia al Ghul, Ra’s al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Immortal Jason Todd, League of Assassins Jason Todd, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Protective Talia al Ghul, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Jason Todd Needs a Hug, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Adopted Children, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Claustrophobia, Child Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Ten: Blue Iris

Jason woke up in his apartment and struggled to remember the most recent events of that night. His hands shook so violently he thought he'd died again, but his body didn't hurt. It couldn't have been death. The last thing he could remember was the sunset, but it was pitch black now. He finished cleaning the apartment and scrubbing it of any evidence of his existence before returning to the one place he could never imagine wanting to see. His old apartment. He climbed up the fire escape to the window and peeked inside. The apartment was empty, save a few candles and what appeared to be a vigil. He wondered who it was for. There were no pictures, just a few votive candles, flowers, and old beat-up shoes. It was when Jason noticed the sneakers that he put two-and-two together. They were his shoes. That was his memorial.

His head spun as he fled the area. Tears poured down Jason's face as he remembered how hopeless he felt the last time he was home. He remembered how he lay on the mattress on the floor, talking to Catherine, thinking that he'd join her and the noise of the world and all its sufferings would end. He remembered the dull ache in his chest as he slipped away.

That pain was cardiac arrest. Jason knew that now. Still, physical pain had a foreseeable end. Emotional pain persisted. It found new ways to puncture and bruise. As he ran blindly from the scene of his memorial, he ran into the street. He despised Gotham. The sound of car horns and cursing commuters pulled him back, and he made his way down an alley and up to the roof of one of the buildings in Gotham. He swallowed hard as he sat atop the industrial building, smoke in his eyes, hair, and lungs as he cried. "What do you want?" Jason wept.

"To talk... You okay?" a man's voice asked. Jason shook his head. "You've got good ears if you heard me coming."

Jason pulled his hood up over his head. He didn't want to be seen, but he wanted to look at the face of the man speaking to him. The man had a gymnast's build, and he was masked. A vigilante. "Who are you?" Jason asked.

"Nightwing," the man whispered, "I needed a new start a few years ago." Jason nodded.

"I had a new start too, but it doesn't make it any easier. Returning to Gotham is like returning to the scene of a crime," Jason muttered. Nightwing sat next to Jason on the ledge. "I haven't spoken to anybody since I've been back."

"Visiting?" Nightwing questioned. Jason shook his head.

"Working... Family business," Jason replied.

"Did something happen to you here?" Dick questioned.

"You could say that yeah... Wait. You needed a new start... You're Robin," Jason whispered. He would've been starstruck a few years ago, but he wasn't a child. Or at least he didn't feel like one anymore. "I dreamt about being you when I was a kid..."

"You are a kid," Nightwing whispered.

Jason drove his fist into the stone ledge, bruising his knuckles. "I'm not a child! I haven't been a child in years!" Jason yelled. Nightwing held out his hands to calm Jason.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that," Nightwing whispered, "Can I see your hand?"

"It's not broken," Jason muttered, "And I know you didn't mean anything by it... I just-. I want to stop feeling like this, but the more I try to make the pain disappear, the worse it gets."

"Maybe you need to talk about it," Nightwing suggested. Jason shrugged and shook his head.

"No... I need to get away from here. I've gotta tough it out a few more days until I can go home," Jason whispered, "But I don't mind the company." Nightwing smiled.

They sat together until sunrise, and Jason whispered about finishing his work. He watched as Nightwing exited, and he disappeared into the alley. Speaking to another living person soothed him enough to help him collect his things. When he arrived back at the apartment, there were EMTs and police everywhere. A hand slipped off a covered stretcher, and Jason recognized the watch. Garzonas. Jason's lips twitched into a smile, and he went on to the hotel. He carried his gear out of the hotel and tipped the staff for their hospitality.

Once he got back to the apartment, the police and EMTs cleared out, allowing Jason to go back to his apartment. He took his bags and paid off the landlord on his way out. Then Jason went to the store. He'd be on his own in the wilderness outside Gotham for five more days. Jason bought some camping supplies and took a cab halfway to the location, choosing to walk the rest of the way. He hiked up a hill into a wooded area near the pickup site and made camp. There was a nearby stream where he washed up, and as the sunlight bounced off his skin, he remembered his training.

He remembered the feeling of the ocean on his skin back on the island and how he and Damian used to swim in the warm waters. Sometimes they'd lie in the sand, drying off in the sun. That was home. No memorials, no graves, and no smog. He couldn't wait to return there. Thoughts of his home gave him solace after a tumultuous five days, and it proved to be just enough comfort to get him through the next five. The jet arrived at three in the morning, and Jason awoke just in time to meet eyes with Talia. She stood at the bottom of the steps, waiting for him. "Mama," Jason whispered.

They ran toward each other and embraced one another. "Washatiini," Jason whispered. Talia squeezed his face in her palms.

"I missed you too, my darling... Why are you crying?" Talia questioned as she ran her thumbs against his cheeks. "Jason..." He hugged her a second time, but he refused to let go.

"I want to go home," Jason whimpered. Talia kissed the top of his head. "Mama, I'm so tired..."

"Come along," Talia whispered as she led him into the jet, and he took his seat. "I'm glad you kept your promise."

"Thank you for coming to get me, Mama," Jason whispered as he closed his eyes. She felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

"You're warm," Talia whispered. He'd already fallen asleep. Talia had someone bring him a blanket shortly before they took off. She tucked the blanket in around him before buckling his safety belt. When the plane took off, Jason's eyes shot open, and Talia placed a hand on his chest to steady him. "It's going to be alright, sweet boy. We're going home." Jason mouthed the word to himself before sinking back into his seat.

"Mama, how is Di?" Jason asked.

"He asks about you every day... He'll be so surprised to see you," Talia whispered. Jason smiled.

"I missed him so much," Jason whispered, "And Ra's... Is he-."

"Impressed with how quickly you've completed your mission... Jason, he's not upset with you for killing Garzonas's son," Talia whispered. Jason shook his head.

"I didn't-. Did I? How do you know he's dead?" Jason asked.

Talia knit her brows together. "Mama, I-. If I did, I don't remember. I promise I'm not lying-."

"Jason, you told us what you did. You called the other number. You don't remember?" Talia asked. Jason shook his head, and she gently parted his thick curls with her fingers as she looked for any scarring or bruises. She felt the side of his head, and he winced. "Turn toward me, little one." Jason obeyed, and she had him lay his head against the seat. Talia parted his hair to reveal a bruise around slightly broken skin. "Does this hurt?" Talia questioned as she pressed her fingers around the bruise. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"Mama, I-."

"It's alright, shǎ zhū," Talia whispered as she kissed his forehead. "When we get home, we'll have your head looked at." Talia held her palm to his cheek, and he leaned into her hand. It was warm and familiar. Finally, there was light again.

[thebearer]

What's readers job, in you mind/headcanons? Or she doesn't work?

Personally, I don't think she'd work in the food industry at all. I'm a preschool teacher, but I usually imagine reader working maybe in architecture or design, maybe management idk

After the girls, I think she would tone down a bit, not work so much, but still, I dont think she would be a sahm.

for most (I self reflect lmao) and she works as a social media manager like in “follow me”. in the ones with mom!reader though… idk, personally I picture her as a stay at home mom who helps with the restaurant. like sort of as carmen’s assistant- does payroll, orders things, helps clean and front of house if needed, hiring. all the things carmen doesn’t like to do or is too busy for, since technically it’s both of your restaurant now that you’re married. plus you want it to do hood bc carmen is proud of it so you just help out… while also trying to keep teddy under control and not chasing richie with knives lmao.

but really, whatever you want reader to be! I keep it broad bc I can’t relate to the chef!reader ones (I genuinely can not cook) so I just keep it more open for your own imagination!

[sparkypantaloons]

Jason breaks his leg

“What did you do?” An old lady hugging an oxygen tank asks.

“Felloffmybicycle.” Jason mumbles.

“Eh?” The lady replies loudly. “Speak up kid, I’m deaf.”

Jason sighs. “I fell off my bicycle.” He says, much louder this time. 

“Well that was stupid.” The old lady replies. As if Jason doesn’t know. 

It’s bad enough his leg is properly fucked. That the tibia snapped clean in half and busted out his shin for all the world to see, and that the fibula is broken in three different places. But to have not even done it as Red Hood? That’s the bit that really stings his pride. 

He hadn’t even been on his motorcycle. He’s been trying to reduce his carbon footprint recently, (unsurprisingly, vigilantism is hardly the cleanest industry in the world) so he’d been cycling. Just cycling around on a Tuesday afternoon for a bit of cardio. Took a corner too fast, stupidly put his foot out to stabilise and then, bam! - there is he lying in the street, with two thirteen year old girls simultaneously calling 911 and snapchatting his broken leg.

“Fam, your foot is pointing the wrong way,” One of them had shrilled, as Jason had blinked stupidly up at her.

“I don’t know how old he is,” the other one had told the operator panickedly. “Like old, he has white hair, maybe 30?”

And there Jason had been thinking he looked young for his age. It was this particular blow to his ego that had him coming round, grimacing through the pain as he told the kids he was fine.

“Your skeleton is outside of your body, I don’t think that’s fine!”

“Hn.” Jason had replied, rolling with the wave of nausea that came from trying to move his leg. Everything below the knee felt like jello. Very painful jello. “I’m calling an uber. Tell 911 not to come.”

The uber driver had been less than thrilled. “I am not an ambulance, my guy.”

“I will give you $1,000 in cash right now if you take me to the clinic on Old Park Row.” Jason had told him, skin clammy and face gray as he’d tried to drag himself into the back of the Toyota Prius.

In the end it had cost him two thousand dollars. But only because he had vomited all over the back of seat and felt bad.

Leslie hadn’t made him feel any better. 

“What is wrong with you? You need a hospital!” She had snapped, eyeing his blood soaked jeans and the jagged bone poking through them. “You could lose your leg if you don’t get seen to immediately.”

“I just need you to do me a cast.” Jason had replied, woozily. Was it just him, or was the world spinning? “It’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

“What you need is major surgery and three months at home.”

Jason’s protests had been no good. Leslie had called 911 and sent him on his way to Gotham General. But not before sedating him so she could re-set the bone. He’d come round in the hospital emergency room, drooling slightly and talking gibberish about carrots.

“Allergic to carrots.” The staff nurse had said slowly, a fixed smile on her face. “I’ll make sure the doctor knows.”

He’d been taken into surgery just a few hours later and had woken up that evening with a titanium rod in his leg and a gaggle of medical students ogling his stitches. “How do you always get them so neat, Luisa?” A short, white man with a pointed face was saying. “He’s like 10% body fat, there’s hardly any skin to spare.”

Jason took umbridge with that. His latest training regime (yes, the one that included cycling as cardio) had taken him down to 7% body fat. 

[datamodel-of-disaster]

Here's a bit of an odd (but hopefully not unwelcome) question: you've mentioned a couple of times your interest in interior decorating, but how do you *find* items for your house to fit a specific aesthetic? Where do you even look/how do you search for stuff? Or do you just look through shops and flea markets and hope to get lucky?

Ok, I love this question. (You may regret asking if you see the length of this reply 😅)

SO.

The simple answer is, I thrift a lot (on- and offline), I buy at estate sales and auctions, I rarely pass an interior design store without taking a look inside (even stores that are decidedly not my style at first sight), I read industry magazines, I save up for pieces by indie creators, and in some cases I make my own stuff (I can weld and upholster). So yeah, to an extent it's "luck".

The complicated answer is that it's about understanding my own aesthetic and optimising my search experience.

I know a lot of people who sort of know what they like, but also don't really know what they like. They'll be able to look at pictures of interiors and say "I like that" and "I hate that" but not really know how to articulate why. They might even have a label for the aesthetic they prefer, like "minimalist" or "clean and modern" or "cozy Scandinavian" or something like that, but still not really be able to articulate what that materially entails. (Yes, I know, I'm singling out a certain type of people here -I'll stop eyeing them once they stop doing this shit.)

Why is one room "good" to you and another not, even if they're both technically the same style? What makes a space work? What is the "invisible background" in the spaces you love -tall ceilings, exposed beams, greenery outside, natural light, latticed windows, crown moulding? A lot of times people think they like the interior but they really just like the house it's in, much like how you might think an outfit is stylish only because the person wearing it is hot.

Similarly… do you actually love the look of an interior or do you just love the lifestyle implied in it? Do you actually like empty surfaces or are you just tired of cleaning up your housemates' clutter? Do you love big open kitchen/dining room combos or do you just wish you had a social circle that did dinner parties? Do you really want a giant white couch or do you just dream of living in California? Similarly to ads that may be advertising a car but are selling you on the dream of freedom to travel, interiors are tied up with non-material desires and aspirations. And while that's not *bad* per se, it's very difficult to actively work towards an aesthetic if you can't tell apart that aesthetic from the underlying desires. After all, you want an interior that works for the space you actually have and the life you actually live.

The reason this is important is because the moment you understand what you are really after, you are no longer bound by names of designers, shops and styles. It stops mattering. You can find things you enjoy anywhere, from thrift shops to IKEA to antiques auctions to specialty warehouses to Etsy, without it needing to be tagged with the label of an aesthetic you're trying to fit in. A lot of the "but how will I even find anything"/"everything I love is too expensive" stress disappears like this.

Understanding how your preferred style and aesthetic actually works under the hood also gives you insight into what sort of things you *need* to make it work, what stuff adds depth and volume but can't carry the theme by itself, and what sort of things are "false friends" -stuff that seems like it "should" fit your aesthetic but actually hampers it in the space you're in. (As in: a big white sectional is not gonna give you California Cool in a cramped terrace house in Birmingham, rather the opposite.)

The second-best advice in interior designing is "buy what you love" -the genuinely best advice is "understand what you love". Because once you do, you'll find things you like everywhere.

There's also optimizing your search. This is one of the few things where website algorithms are actually your biggest friend. One of my favourite things is the "more like this" function on a lot of platforms. If you tidily keep and organize favourites on Etsy, the algorithm will typically present you with stuff that's genuinely similar to items you already like. Just using Instagram to follow artists and creators you like will curate your feed and expose you to other stuff that fits the look. Pinterest allows you to both passively and actively find similar looking items, which can expose you to items and designers you never knew existed.

Favouriting items on my most-used second hand platform (2dehands, a local Belgian thrifting platform) will actively put items that visually resemble those favourites on my front page. It's awesome, and you can "weaponize" it in your search.

For example, earlier this year I really wanted an Asian style lacquer cupboard. They can be quite expensive, and usually get picked up fast second hand. So for a week or two, I actively searched for and favourited *every* lacquer cupboard I found on 2dehands, including ones I didn't like, that had the wrong dimensions, or that were far too expensive for me. Fairly quickly, my front page was essentially all lacquer cupboards, including ones that weren't even advertised as such and that I would never have found through the textual search function. And lo and behold, I found the perfect one, and it was an absolute steal too.

Another way to optimise your search is to cast a wide net. I never pass a home décor store or antiques warehouse without taking a peak. I have bought items when I was on work trips, when I was visiting family, when I was on holiday. "Thrift stores near me" is my favourite search on google maps. And yes, sometimes that meant carrying a mahogany prayer chair on my back while walking 30 minutes to the train station in high heels and office clothes xD

A final tip is to sometimes just trust your gut and go for it. A couple of my favourite buys are ridiculous shit, like a chair shaped like high heel and a bronze statue of a robot giving cunnilingus to a woman. And the biggest interior design regrets I have are all items I didn't buy. (to this day I regularly think about the giant 5-panel hand-painted Chinese screen doors I passed up on and the Lucite dining chairs I couldn’t arrange transport for.) There is such a thing as "too cohesive" in interiors. Your home is not a catalog photo; sometimes, particularly if the item is unusual or unique, you gotta trust your affection for it without necessarily knowing how it fits in the picture. (In a way, your brain is also an algorithm subject to customisation through exposure. Learn to trust it! ^^)

It's important to note with all of this though… this is my hobby. I love spending time on it. I imagine if you're trying to curate an interior this way when you're new to it (especially if you're trying to get to a certain look all at once without any mistakes or misbuys) it's hella overwhelming and time-consuming. It's not for everyone. But even if you have no interest in turning your home decor into a hobby, the base principles still apply. If you understand what you're really after, it's much easier to identify things that would work in your space, anywhere you go, no matter how often you actually go looking.

(My own house is very much NOT perfect -a perpetual “blessed mess and work in progress”, in all honesty. But well. I AM out here giving advice, so feel free to check out some non-staged, very much non-magazine worthy pics of my home, below the cut.)

[blackhistorychatgpt]

Black inventors

From Perplexity:

Famous black inventors have significantly contributed to various fields, from everyday household items to groundbreaking technological advancements. Here are some notable figures:

George Crum (1824-1914): A chef who is credited with inventing the potato chip in 1853[1].

Frederick McKinley Jones (1893-1961): Developed refrigeration equipment for trucks, trains, ships, and planes, receiving over 40 patents. His invention, the Thermo King, revolutionized the food and medical transport industries[1].

Granville T. Woods (1856-1910): Accumulated almost 60 patents, improving railroad functioning. Notably, he invented the induction telegraph system for train communication[1].

George Washington Carver (1864-1943): An agricultural chemist who developed 518 products from peanuts and sweet potatoes, including ink, dye, soap, and synthetic rubber[1].

Madam C.J. Walker (1867-1919): Became the first African American woman self-made millionaire by creating a line of hair products for African American women[1].

Garrett Morgan (1877-1963): Invented the traffic signal and a safety hood that served as a prototype for the gas mask[1].

Mary Beatrice Davidson Kenner: Patented the sanitary belt in 1957, a significant advancement in women's health and hygiene[1].

Thomas L. Jennings (1791–1859): The first African American to receive a U.S. patent, for a dry-cleaning process[4].

Patricia Bath (1942-2019): Invented a laser cataract treatment, becoming the first African American female doctor to receive a medical patent[4].

Mark Dean (1957-present): Holds over 20 patents, including contributions to the creation of the color PC monitor and the first gigahertz chip[4].

Elijah McCoy (1844-1929): Known for his invention of the automatic lubricator for oiling steam engines, leading to the phrase "the real McCoy" to denote something authentic[4].

These inventors have left a lasting impact on society, demonstrating ingenuity and perseverance in the face of challenges.

Citations: [1] https://www.oprahdaily.com/life/work-money/g30877473/african-american-inventors/ [2] https://www.parents.com/kids/education/world-changing-black-inventors-that-every-kid-should-know-about/ [3] https://www.black-inventor.com [4] https://www.biography.com/inventors/g46697619/famous-black-inventors [5] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_African-American_inventors_and_scientists

From Gemini (formerly Bard):

20 Famous Black Investors with Short Descriptions:

Dr. Shirley Jackson: First Black woman to earn a doctorate in nuclear physics, invested in research and development for the U.S. Department of Defense.

Robert F. Smith: Founded Vista Equity Partners, a private equity firm with over $85 billion in assets under management. Known for his philanthropic endeavors.

Oprah Winfrey: Media mogul and investor, known for her investments in cable channels, production companies, and Weight Watchers.

Udayan I. Lekhraj: Founded CMG Partners, a private equity firm specializing in healthcare investments. Advocate for diversity and inclusion in venture capital.

Catherine Hughes: Founded Urban One, a media company serving the African American community. First Black woman to chair a publicly traded company in the U.S.

Rodney Bryant: Co-founded JUST Capital, a firm that measures and incentivizes corporations to prioritize stakeholder capitalism.

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf: Former President of Liberia, Nobel Peace Prize winner. Focused on economic development and investment in her country.

Ronald Lauder: CEO of Estee Lauder Companies, known for his investments in the beauty industry and philanthropic work.

Charles R. Bronfman: Chairman of The Seagram Company Ltd., invested in various industries including entertainment, real estate, and philanthropy.

John Rogers Jr.: Founded Ariel Investments, a mutual fund company with over $28 billion in assets under management. Advocate for responsible investing.

Marc Morial: Former mayor of New Orleans, currently president of the National Urban League. Focused on economic empowerment of Black communities.

Ronald Watkins: Founding CEO of Watkins Investing Group, invests in real estate and businesses within the Black community.

Melody Hobson: President and CEO of Ariel Investments, known for her work on financial literacy and diversity in boardrooms.

Aisha Evans: Founded BE Capital, a venture capital firm focused on Black and Latinx tech entrepreneurs.

Kevin Hart: Comedian and investor, known for his investments in production companies, streaming platforms, and sports teams.

Jay-Z: Rapper and entrepreneur, known for his investments in music streaming, sports teams, and venture capital funds.

Will Smith: Actor and investor, known for his investments in production companies, media platforms, and venture capital funds.

Serena Williams: Tennis champion and investor, known for her investments in venture capital funds focused on women and diverse founders.

Rihanna: Singer and entrepreneur, known for her investments in beauty brands, fashion lines, and technology startups.

LeBron James: Basketball player and investor, known for his investments in media companies, production companies, and technology startups.

Please note: This list is not exhaustive and can be debated in terms of individual importance and impact.

Reading List on Black Inventors:

Black Inventors: Lives That Mattered by Darlene R. Medford

Hidden Figures: The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians Who Helped Win the Space Race by Margot Lee Shetterly

Lifting the Veil: Celebrating the Unsung Heroes of Black History by Michael Hill

Lost Genius: The Forgotten Black Inventors Who Changed the World by Dennis Freeman

Pioneering Women in American Mathematics: From Agnes Scott to Emmy Noether by Pamela Prochazka

Black Inventors in Science and Technology by Shirley J. Smith

A Colored Man's Reminiscences of James M. Whitfield: With Recollections of the Early Struggles of Colored Men in Boston by Wilbur H. Siebert

Inventing the Future: Black Inventors in Science and Technology by Geneva Gay

African Americans in Science, Math, and Invention by Darlene R. Medford

Black Inventors in the United States by Darlene R. Medford

This list offers a variety of books covering different periods and areas of innovation by Black inventors. Consider exploring further based on your specific interests.

I hope this information is helpful!

[lambsouvlaki]

Moments in Between - Ham, Cheese, & Tomato

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!OC

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings

Summary: Jason & his Definitely Not Girlfriend volunteer at a community kitchen making sandwiches. Shenanigans ensue.

Masterlist

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Jason scowled and carved another piece of ham on the industrial slicer. The tranquil peace was shattered, the contentment of good work done well lost. 

Across from him Andy tried and failed to stifle her giggles. Her face was scrunched up adorably. 

Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much if she weren’t so fucking cute about it. 

“There he goes,” she said, holding her breath.

On her phone screen a youtube video played, drone footage of the Red Hood getting his foot caught on the edge of a building and face planting on the roof.

She burst into laughter once more. She was almost in tears.

Jason sliced another piece of ham and tossed it down on the upturned sandwich. 

“You are falling behind on the tomatoes,” he snapped. 

“I was ahead of you anyway,” she said, closing the sandwich without looking and putting down the ingredients for the next. 

It was five in the morning and they were helping out at a community kitchen. His arm was still in a cast and he was antsy enough to need distraction. Andy had suggested volunteering as a joke, then they had both egged each other on right up until they were writing their names down and getting assigned a time and place. 

Now they stood in hair nets and plastic gloves, in an old but clean kitchen making three hundred sandwiches. 

Andy clicked the replay button. They were, unfortunately, well ahead of schedule. 

Jason considered snatching her phone and throwing it into the tub of mayonnaise. No, she’d fish it out and watch it thirty more times just to rub it in. 

He considered dangling whoever sent her that video off the edge of a roof. Upside down. In their underwear. 

“I don’t see why it’s so funny,” he said. “That could be a really dangerous injury. Maybe he broke his ankle and he’s in hospital right now. Or maybe Black Mask’s goons shot him in the head and you’re laughing at a dead man.”

“This video is from a year ago.”

It looped again. He could hear the crunch of his own boots slipping. The ‘oomf’ of impact. 

The sniggering. Dear Lord, the sniggering. 

“Didn’t you meet him, once?”

“Yeah he saved my life.” She wiped away a tear. “Scariest motherfucker I have ever seen.”

He looked at her. “Really?”

“No footage really does him justice.”

“You don’t look very scared,” he said evenly. He slowly sliced another piece of ham. 

A wide grin spread across her face. “Well, he’s not looking, I think I’m safe.”

The temptation to do some very stupid rose within him. He scowled at the deli meat in his hands and called upon his great reserves of restraint. 

“Besides,” Andy said, giggling again, “it’s important for us all to remember our protectors are human. So we don’t take them for granted.”

“I’m sure he’s feeling very appreciated.”

She looked at him funny. 

“Why do you care?”

“Those tomatoes are not getting sliced.” He pointed at her chopping board and knife. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know him?”

“Tomato!” He slapped a piece of ham down. 

“Ham!” She shrieked in return, slapping the next piece of bread down. 

“Tomato!” 

“Ham!”

“Would you two stop yelling sandwich ingredients at each other?” the organiser called from down the hall.

Andy jumped and Jason hiked his shoulders up. 

“Yes, Miss Silvie,” they called in unison, and meekly returned to their work. 

Andy smothered a giggle. 

Jason mouthed ‘tomato!’ at her. 

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