#portable power pack

[rocksolars]

Benefits of Owning a Portable Power Station for Boating

Boating is a great way to relax and enjoy the outdoors. But if you want to make the most of your boat, consider investing in a portable power station. Portable power stations provide reliable electricity and are easy to store, making them perfect for your next boating trip. This blog post will look at how portable power stations can enhance your boating experience.

Benefits of Owning a Portable Power Station for Boating

Owning a portable power station for boating offers many benefits, including powering and charging a wide range of electronics without needing to rely on an external electrical source. This portable solar power station can charge phones, laptops, speakers, and other devices. It also provides a reliable source of electricity which can be used to power lights, portable cookers, and even electric tools while out on the water. Furthermore, portable power stations are relatively lightweight and easy to transport, making them a great option for anyone who wants to enjoy their boating trips without worrying about running out of power. This convenience means that you can keep your electronics running all day, no matter where you are boating, enabling you to enjoy the freedom of being on the water without worrying about running out of juice. Also, owning the best portable power station can provide extra peace of mind while boating. Knowing that you have a convenient and reliable energy source to charge your electronics can help alleviate your worries about being stranded at sea with no power. With a portable power station, you can now enjoy the best of both worlds - the freedom of being on the open water and the convenience of having a reliable energy source for all your devices.

Cost Benefits of Portable Power Stations

Portable power stations have become increasingly popular due to their versatility and convenience. One of the key benefits of owning a portable power station is its cost-effectiveness. While traditional power sources can be expensive and require ongoing maintenance, a portable power station offers a more affordable and sustainable alternative. With a portable power station, you can charge your electronic devices, power lights and fans, and even run small appliances without needing an external power source. This means you can save money on expensive docking fees or the cost of a generator. Additionally, many portable power stations are designed to be energy-efficient so that you can save money on your energy bill in the long run. Overall, owning a portable power station can help you save money while still enjoying the benefits of having a reliable and convenient source of power wherever you go.

Ways a Portable Power Station Can Improve Your Boating Experience

The portable power stations are a great way to make your boating experience more convenient and enjoyable. It can provide a reliable energy source to power all your electronic devices, including lights, stereos, and fish finders. A portable power station is convenient and can also be used as a backup power source when your main power supply goes out. This can be a lifesaver if you are stuck in the middle of the ocean and need the power to make it back to shore. Additionally, some models have built-in charging capabilities to charge your phones or other electronics during your voyage. Investing in a portable power station for boating is worth the cost and can help ensure you have an enjoyable and safe time on the water. Not only can the portable power station provide you with energy, but it can also give you peace of mind knowing that you have a reliable source of energy in case of an emergency – such as inclement weather conditions or mechanical failure – while out on the water Beside the portable power station providing you with energy, it also gives you peace of mind knowing that you have a reliable source of energy in case of an emergency out on the water. From inclement weather to mechanical failure, portable power stations are essential for safe boating.

Conclusion

To conclude, investing in a portable power station is a great option if you're looking for ways to enhance your boating experience and make the most of your time on the water. Their reliable electricity and easy storage capabilities provide a convenient and reliable source of energy while you're out on the water. So don't wait any longer - get yourself a good quality portable power station and set sail!

[spooky-activity]

Squad

[honestlyvan]

Looking at this tweet:

and thinking about how I actually did this to Prime Wheeljack on my second viewing, deciding that he has to deal with fuckoff arm and wrist pain like I do

except he fucking did it to himself, because of course he did -- all of his integrated weaponry is custom, with his engineering background meant to primarily support hand tools, his initial loadout was configured for near-recoilless weaponry like Bumblebee and Smokescreen, but running around doing commando blackops shit (in his mind) necessitated larger firepower and there were no medics around to finger-wag him out of doing whatever upgrades he wanted so now all of his weaponry is a grade or two stronger than his structural components should on paper be able to handle.

As a result his whole upper body has a ton of microfractures from magnetic shear and recoil -- nothing that his self-repair can't handle, but just like with humans, supportive member damage doesn't heal back up to be stronger without very specific kind of physical therapy to accompany it. As a result Wheeljack has actually gained mass and lost a lot of the flexibility and aerodynamic and balance qualities of racer frames, and is maintaining his ability to do trick driving largely through just. Doing it, lmao, and not thinking about his worsening health.

[colinwilson11]

Australia Portable Battery Pack (Power Banks): The Demand For Power On The Go

The average Australian now owns multiple portable electronic devices like smartphones, tablets, cameras, and other gadgets that run on rechargeable batteries. These devices have become essential companions in our daily lives whether for work, education, entertainment or staying connected with friends and family. However, one of the biggest challenges facing users is ensuring these devices have enough power to last through the day without access to a power outlet. This has led to a surge in demand for portable battery packs or power banks that can charge devices on the go.

Statistics from analysts show Australia Portable Battery Pack (Power Banks)  now own on average 2.3 portable electronic devices each in 2020, up from 1.8 devices in 2015. As usage of these devices increases for tasks like social networking, streaming media, online shopping etc, the battery drain has also gone up substantially. A survey by a mobile accessories retailer found that over 70% of Australian smartphone users feel anxious when their phone battery drops below 20%. This clearly shows the need for backup power solutions when conventional outlets are not available.

Rise Of Australia Portable Battery Pack (Power Banks) Manufacturers

  To capitalize on this growing consumer need, several Australian companies have entered the portable battery in recent years. Brands like Mophie, Anker, RAVPower and AUKEY now have a significant presence selling power banks locally as well as overseas. These manufacturers offer batteries in various sizes and capacities ranging from 5,000mAh to 26,800mAh power suitable for 1-2 charges on most devices. Features like fast-charging technologies, multiple USB ports and portable slim designs have also increased popularity.

Australian online retailer Mobileciti launched its own-brand ‘Inateck’ power banks in 2017 and has seen strong year-on-year growth. With locally sourced components and assembly, Inateck is aggressively expanding its range with 20 new SKUs this year. The company’s research found Australia Portable Battery Pack (Power Banks)  consumers favour banks with 10,000mAh capacity the most. Inateck’s performance has enabled it to capture around 7%  share nationally within 3 years of launch.

Some homegrown brands have also emerged like Syllable, Volt and iWalk which predominantly sell via e-commerce platforms. By undercutting aggressive overseas competitors on price and offering Australian customer support, these local startups are carving a niche.  projections show Australia Portable Battery Pack (Power Banks)  sales growing 15-20% annually over the next 5 years potentially reaching $180 million in revenue. This rapid growth presents opportunities for both large manufacturers and startups.

Sustainability Efforts Gather Steam

  As lithium-ion battery usage increases, concerns around ethical sourcing and environmental impact have put the spotlight on sustainability practices in the power bank . Major brands have responded by focusing on renewable energy usage in plants, reducing plastic packaging waste and utilizing recycled materials wherever possible.

Australian producer Volt Power announced it achieved a key milestone of being 100% carbon neutral certified in 2020. The company offset its entire manufacturing and operational carbon footprint via investment in accredited solar projects. Volt also became the first in the country to offer power banks made partially from recycled plastic collected via teracycle programs. Such initiatives have boosted Volt’s ‘eco-friendly’ branding helping drive an 75% increase in annual sales.

Larger brands like Mophie and Anker have rolled out programs that let customers easily recycle old or non-functional power banks at no cost. They also provide transparent product lifecycle assessments and sourcing details online. This is increasingly important to Australian buyers who have strong sentiments towards brands with verifiable green and ethical production standards. The likes of iWalk for example prominently displays its solar panel integration and recyclable aluminum housing as unique selling points over Asian rivals.

New Technologies On The Horizon

Going forward, there remains significant potential to further improve power bank designs and features. Two key areas  watchers expect notable developments are fast-charging functionality and integration with renewable sources. Manufacturers are pushing the limits on charging speeds with some previewing prototypes that can juice up a dead phone battery to 50% within 15 minutes using protocols like USB PD.

With solar energy making strides in popularity, concepts of solar-powered portable chargers are in the works. This could open up use cases like on-the-go charging for outdoor recreational activities. Foldable thin-film solar panels built into battery packs and capable of adding 1-3% charge per hour of sunlight are being explored. Other speculated technologies include charging via human body heat, kinetic motion or wireless inductive standards for truly cord-free operation.

While higher costs may limit initial commercial viability, Australian companies intent on playing in global s will need to keep developing greener and more convenient charging solutions. Strategic partnerships are also likely between battery makers and renewable energy or consumer electronics majors. Overall consumer appetite for anytime untethered power ensures Australia Portable Battery Pack (Power Banks) role in advancing portable energy technologies will only grow in the coming years.

Get more insights on this topic:  https://www.ukwebwire.com/choosing-the-best-portable-battery-pack-australia-portable-battery-pack-power-banks/

Author Bio:

Money Singh is a seasoned content writer with over four years of experience in the  research sector. Her expertise spans various industries, including food and beverages, biotechnology, chemical and materials, defense and aerospace, consumer goods, etc. (https://www.linkedin.com/in/money-singh-590844163 )

*Note: 1. Source: Coherent  Insights, Public sources, Desk research 2. We have leveraged AI tools to mine information and compile it

[scientificinstrumentsinc]

Magnaflux Equipment Repair Alternative

Every industry manufactures metallic equipment and various devices to fulfill varied purposes. The components of devices used by the transportation industry must be tested properly to ensure quality and effectiveness. An arbitrary test will not suffice, though. Instead, it is essential for such parts, as well as the device, to undergo systematic testing. Using a testing method that will not damage individual parts is vital. The Magnaflux or magnetic dye test has been developed for this purpose. The testing often requires the usage of a high-quality Magnaflux portable power pack as well. ​ First things first, though! Why is this specific testing process so important? It suffices to know that diverse metal parts may become stressed and develop fissures during welding. The tiny cracks and fissures are invisible to the naked eye and may remain concealed without being tested for faults. The Magnaflux testing method is beneficial here. The process involves magnetic particles and a fluorescent dye. Usage of the two reveals the abnormalities in the metal joints caused by faulty or abnormal machining.

It is further necessary to remember that the Magnaflux can be carried out only on those metal components that can be adequately magnetized. The size of the part does not matter, however. The test may be conducted on a tiny ball bearing or a huge aircraft frame with equal success.

Efficacy of Magnaflux Power Pack The power packs may be carried along as they are portable and relatively small. The  P-1500 and P-70 are perfect for on-site inspections as well. These Magnetic particle inspection (MPI) applications are convenient to use and highly economical for the user. A moderate amount of magnetizing power is generally required, making the power pack highly effective. The user must use 4/0 cables with multiple accessories to complete the circuit successfully. Thus, A power pack is a versatile and useful Non-Destructive Testing (NDT) tool.

The best power packs available today can supply alternating and half-wave direct current. Usually, the right cable is wrapped around the part to be tested. Prods may be used with supplemental NDT materials alternatively. The inspectors look for indications on the surface or subsurface of the component being inspected.

The procedure includes moving the electric current through the part where an electromagnetic field is induced. Any hindrance to the smooth flow of the current is a cause for concern and a sign of a fissure or crack in the part. Any disturbance in the electromagnetic field will form a cluster on the NDT material. The inspector can find the defects in the part from the clusters that are indicated via the dye, fluorescent, or dry powder.

While this method aims to test for defects/damage in metal components, the equipment may develop damages over time, making Magnaflux equipment repair essential. Replacing the damaged equipment with brand-new power packs or going for rebuilt or refurbished products is possible.

[silvercitysuperstore]

GOFORT Portable Power Station, 550Wh Solar Generator With 600W (Peak 1200W) 110V AC Outlets, 120W 12V DC, QC3.0&TypeC, SOS Flashlight, Backup Power Lithium Battery Pack For Outdoor RV/Van Camping CPAP

[crazydiscostu]

ZyberVR Neck Power Bank

The major pain point of Virtual Reality gaming and experiences is inadequate battery life that restricts play time. Thankfully the team at ZyberVR are once again on the case! Introducing their Neck Power Bank which promises to offer a blend of convenience, comfort, and extended playtime for VR aficionados. Let’s take a look at this innovative accessory! Product supplied for review purposes Neck…

[leader-pikachu]

Duracell Portable Power Stations

Power phones, tablets, laptops—any of the small devices you need—for work and for life. Lightweight and compact, the M150 features a cord storage unit, a tiltable device holder that has wireless phone charging, a dimmable ring light, a charging dock, and packs in 150 watts of power. You no longer need to be tethered to the wall now that you have portable power for your work and leisure activities. Power the possibilities.

[nadinescholtes]

Here is Laia from the new dimension on Eclipse and Puppet Show. Because Sunlight mentioned that he only likes men, she will become Eclipse's partner. This dimension is not a fully genderswap, so Laia stays a woman. And she doesn't have the strength update, she has normal animatronic like strength.

Story:

Laia was the mascot of the candy shop Sugarcoat, but when the old owner AND his wife died, the son didn't want to take over the shop and planed to get the shop demolished and build something else. He was also planing to decommission Laia, because this one hates animatronics. Laia heard this when the son was on the phone and with broken heart she planed her escape. She was very scared, she wanted to live.

The shop didn't close right away it was open for a few months so Laia had some time. But the son was starting to get violent and hurt Laia almost every day and she didn't dare to defend herself. Every other day she stole some money from the cash register and hid it in her room. And then she prepared her outfit to hide her body to look like a tall human woman (if you don't take a closer look).

Even though she had many clothes, she had very few to choose from because they couldn't have the Sugarcoat logo on them and needed to look somewhat normal.

She packed a backpack with the money, a change of clothes, and her portable power bank for an extra 8 hours of electricity (which is much easier to charge than herself directly). Charging cables and her little screwdriver kit just in case and a fuzzy blanket for comfort.

She couldn't take her laptop with games and movies with her in case of tracking. She doesn't have a tracking device built into her, because she was at the shop all the time anyway.

Her outfit: pants and a shirt, a jacket, her Halloween boots, gloves, and a bandana. In her backpack was her outfit like the one from SAMS.

And when she was ready, she escaped the shop at night. It wasn't easy to stay hidden. It was rare for her to find a safe place to charge, so she had to charge her portable power bank where she could (like McDonald's or other) and then plug it in herself to charge hidden in her jacket. She looked like a tall, homeless woman who was resting on a bench or something.

One night a group of people tried to attack and rob her, but she escaped and the next morning she found the building Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. She snuck in, disguised as a tall woman under many people, and went unnoticed. She found her way in parts and service and hid there. She could rest and charge without being attacked for two weeks.

Poor Laia, she was on the run for 2 months it took a toll on her, she was so tired and scared. She found a crowbar and kept it close in case she needed to defend herself. She didn't have a plan for what to do in the future, all she knew was to survive.

And one day Eclipse found her, he first thought she was a tall human woman intruder but saw very fast that she was an animatronic, but didn't see her face. Laia was very scared, kept saying that Eclipse would not take her back to the shop and not to come any closer, and was ready to swing the crowbar if he did come closer.

Eclipse was confused and irritated, asking questions but Laia slipped out the door of parts and service looking for a new hiding spot. Clips didn't run after her, because he was busy and is not in the mood for this. But he kept an eye out when he left parts and service.

Days after he began researching about missing animatronics, but couldn't find anything. But he saw the news that Sugarcoat closed and saw pictures of Laia when she was working there. He recognizes her eyes.

He went to search the whole plex and found her somewhere in the basement sitting in the corner. When she saw him she got scared again, holding the crowbar up. Clips tried this time to calm her down, he was bad at it but it worked. He just wanted to know why she was there. She hesitated but then told him everything that happened in the shop and in the streets.

He said he would not tell everyone, not to help her but because he didn't care (yeah sure buddy, you are nice, deal with it!). He said she could stay there until he figured something out. He warned her if she hurt anyone or caused trouble, he would kick her out.

After days he kept checking on her and having some small talk. He brings her stuff to keep her occupied. He tried bringing her candy from the daycare (because mascot of the candy shop), but she hates candy now, so he brought her some chips. The ghost kids found her and started visiting her too and then FC found her and then the whole group knew about her.

Within time she befriended everyone and Eclipse hacked into Fazbear's system and registered Laia as an official Fazbear animatronic (the thing he did when he, Foxy, FC, and Puppet moved in). Her job was to be at the cash register at the theater, so Clips could leave to do other things. And because those two hung out a lot at the theater together, they grew close.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Purse Essentials For Day & Night (or Any Activity In Between)

Daytime Handbag Essentials:

Keys

Wallet/cardholder (ID[s], credit/debit cards, spare cash – enough for an emergency cab/train ticket, a bottle of water, and a cheap snack plus a little extra is my formula)

Phone/phone charger

Airpods/headphones

Mini sunscreen

Hand lotion

Floss picks in a travel floss dispenser

Mini disposable toothbrushes

Breath mints

Portable stain remover wipes

Hand sanitizer

Lip balm/your everyday lip color

Eyeliner

Brow pencil

Power foundation

Contour/blush stick

Oil blotting sheets

Roll-on perfume

Hair ties

Foldable mini hair brush

Feminine hygiene wipes

Panty liners/pads/tampons

Travel case bandaids

Condoms (not in a wallet, please)

A pen or two

Portable sticky notes

Travel pack of tissues

Spare glasses/contacts & contact solution

Sunglasses

OTC pain relief medicine

Water bottle

Non-perishable snacks (I recommend Larabars, Lupini beans/roasted chickpeas/edamame, roasted nuts/trail mix snack packs, Lupii/Raw Rev vegan protein bars, and freeze-dried fruit)

Nighttime Handbag Essentials:

Keys

Wallet/cardholder (ID[s], credit/debit cards, spare cash – enough for an emergency cab/train ticket, a bottle of water, and a cheap snack plus a little extra is my formula)

Phone/portable phone charger

Mini sunscreen

Hand lotion

Floss picks in a travel floss dispenser

Mini disposable toothbrushes

Breath mints

Portable stain remover wipes

Hand sanitizer

Lip balm/your everyday lip color

Eyeliner

Brow pencil

Mini power foundation

Roll-on perfume

Hair ties

Foldable mini hair brush

Feminine hygiene wipes

Panty liner (and maybe a pad/tampon, depending on the time of the month)

Portable makeup remover wipe (or two)

Portable cleansing towelette (or two)

Travel case bandaids

Condoms (at least two – not in a wallet, please)

Disposable foot socks

OTC pain relief medicine

Vitamin B-complex, Vitamin C, and Vitamin D supplement (one of each – for after or the morning after drinking)

Necessary Edit: This list is meant to be a comprehensive guide, designed to be personalized. If you don't think you need some of these items, [pick and choose at your discretion].

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Hurricane

pairing: Joel Miller No Apocalypse x F! wife reader

summary: legit me with hurricane francine yesterday/last night, you guys know i love protective daddy joel. p.s my house is still without power 🫠

The wind whipped fiercely outside, rattling the windows as the sky turned an ominous shade of gray. Joel stood at the front door, staring at the water creeping up the driveway. The outer bands of the hurricane were already making their presence known, and the storm wasn’t even close to landfall yet. His jaw tightened as he wiped his hands on his jeans, adrenaline kicking in.

“Honey!” Joel called, his voice urgent as he hurried toward the bedroom. “We need to pack. Now. The water’s gonna get in the house if we don’t leave soon.”

Y/N appeared in the doorway, holding their newborn close against her chest, her eyes wide with concern. “Is it that bad already?”

“Yeah, it’s that bad,” Joel muttered, grabbing his boots from the closet and throwing them on the bed. “Pack the bags yours, mine, and the kids’. Essentials. I’ll load the truck.”

Without another word, Joel was out the door, his heart racing as he made his way through the garage. The lifted F-150 was their best bet for getting out safely, especially with the rising water, and he wasted no time throwing in bags of snacks, bottles of water, and the kids’ favorite toys. The wind was howling now, rattling the garage door as he loaded the portable crib for the baby.

Inside, Y/N rushed through the house, packing clothes for everyone in a frenzy. Her hands trembled as she grabbed shirts, jeans, and socks from Joel’s dresser, tossing them into the duffel bag. She couldn’t believe the storm had gotten this bad so fast. But if Joel said they had to go, she trusted him.

She scooped up the newborn’s diapers, formula, and bottles, stuffing them into another bag before returning to the living room where their two older kids were huddled on the couch, their little faces full of worry. “Come on, babies. We’re going for a little trip, okay? Daddy’s loading the truck.”

Joel was back in a flash, sweeping through the door, sweat already glistening on his forehead from the effort. He grabbed the bags Y/N had packed and hauled them outside, stuffing them into the back of the truck with barely a grunt.

"Get your pretty ass in the car," Joel growled, his voice firm but soft as he glanced at Y/N, holding their baby in her arms. “Take the kids, millie, and go to your parents’ house. I’ll stay here and make sure the floodwater doesn’t get into the house.”

Y/N froze in her tracks, blinking up at him like he’d lost his mind. “No, Joel. You’re not staying behind. Your safety is more important to me than this house.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she stood her ground.

Joel hesitated, eyes softening as he looked at her. He wanted to argue, but seeing her like this, standing tall in the middle of chaos, broke down any resistance. He let out a heavy sigh, his resolve crumbling. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

He grabbed the last of the essentials and tossed them into the truck, As Joel loaded the last of the bags into the back of the truck, he gave a sharp whistle, the kind that always got their chocolate lab, Millie, bounding over. Sure enough, Millie came trotting out from the porch, her tail wagging despite the chaos around them.

“Come on, girl,” Joel called, motioning toward the truck. He walked over to Y/N’s side and opened the door, making room for Millie. “Hop in.”

Without hesitation, Millie leapt up into the backseat beside the kids, settling in like she knew they were heading somewhere safe.Then Joel climbed into the driver’s seat. Y/N quickly secured the kids in the back, holding the newborn close as she settled in next to Joel.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Joel muttered, gripping the wheel tightly as the rain started to come down harder. The water was already licking at the edge of their driveway, but he pulled away just in time, the tires of the truck splashing through puddles as they headed toward her parents’ house.

Y/N reached over, resting a hand on Joel’s arm as they drove, her heart still racing from the panic. “I’m glad you didn’t stay behind.”

Joel glanced at her, squeezing her hand with a small smile. “Me too darlin’, I just want to keep you and the kids safe.” Y/n cupped his check with her hand and said “Wherever you are, we’re safe. “

As the storm raged behind them, Joel kept his focus on getting his family to safety.

The drive to Y/N’s parents’ house was tense, the rain pelting the windshield as Joel carefully navigated through flooded streets. By the time they pulled into the driveway, the winds were howling, and the power was already flickering. Y/N’s parents rushed out to help everyone inside as Joel grabbed the bags and Millie’s food and dog bed from the truck, everyone hurrying to get in before the weather worsened.

As soon as they stepped through the door, the lights went out, leaving the house in darkness. The kids immediately grew scared, clinging to Y/N as they looked around nervously.

“It’s okay, everything’s alright,” Y/N soothed, her voice calm and steady as she knelt down in front of them. “Daddy’s going to get the power back on. We’re safe here.”

Joel shot her a reassuring look before heading toward the back porch with her father. The wind was still howling, but Joel’s focus was on getting the generator running. He filled it with gas and fresh oil, working quickly alongside her father as the storm raged around them.

Inside, Y/N kept the kids close, getting them settled in the living room. The baby stirred in her arms but didn’t fully wake, and Y/N gently placed her back in the portable crib, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. She tucked blankets around the two older kids, calming their fears with gentle words.

Once the generator was up and running, the hum of power returned, filling the house with a comforting buzz. Joel came back inside, his clothes slightly damp from the rain, and nodded toward Y/N, a proud smile on his face.

“It’s set up outside,” Joel said, moving toward the couch. “The TV’s plugged into extension cord which is plugged up to the generator so we can keep an eye on the news.”

Y/N nodded, sinking onto the couch beside him, her hand finding his as they both exhaled in relief. The kids were now calm, settled on their makeshift beds, and the baby was fast asleep. Millie was asleep in her dog bed, still on high alert.

Together, Joel and Y/N sat in the dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the TV illuminating their faces. The weather report showed the storm intensifying, but they were safe riding it out together as a family.

Joel wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her closer as the wind howled outside. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered, kissing her temple.

Y/N nodded, leaning into him. "As long as we're together, we can get through anything."

They stayed like that for hours, watching the storm outside but feeling secure in each other’s arms. Despite the chaos outside, inside they were safe and sound, riding out the hurricane as one.

[rocksolars]

Can Portable Power Stations Help Reduce Canada's Carbon Footprint?

In the age of environmental awareness and climate change, governments worldwide are looking for new ways to reduce their carbon footprints. Canada is no exception. Recently, many have touted portable power stations as a viable alternative to traditional fossil fuel-based energy sources. But can these power stations help reduce Canada's emissions? This blog post explores this question and examines if they could play a role in helping Canada meet its climate goals. We'll look at the potential benefits of using portable power stations and how they compare with other renewable energy sources. Finally, we'll consider what needs to happen for these devices to become part of our nation's energy mix.

What are portable power stations?

As the name suggests, portable power stations are self-contained units that generate electricity. Typically, they use a combination of solar panels, batteries, and an internal combustion engine to produce electricity. Portable power stations have several advantages over traditional grid-connected power sources. First, they can be used in remote locations without access to the electrical grid. Second, they are much more efficient than grid-connected power sources, producing less greenhouse gas emissions. Finally, portable power stations can provide backup power during an outage or disaster. This can be especially important in regions where extreme weather events are becoming more common. Exploring all potential options for generating electricity is essential to reduce Canada's carbon footprint. Portable power stations offer a clean and efficient option that should be considered part of the overall solution.

How can portable power stations help reduce Canada's carbon footprint?

There are several ways in which portable power stations can help reduce Canada's carbon footprint. For example, portable power station can provide power for electric vehicles, which can help reduce transportation emissions. Additionally, portable power stations can provide backup power during grid outages or brownouts, which can help reduce the need for dirty energy sources such as diesel generators. In addition to their environmental benefits, portable power stations can provide economic benefits. For example, by reducing the need for diesel generators, portable power stations can help to save money on fuel costs. Additionally, by providing backup power during grid outages, portable power stations can help to avoid lost productivity and revenue.

The pros and cons of portable power stations

Several portable power stations on the market can help reduce Canada's carbon footprint. These devices allow you to store energy from renewable sources, like solar and wind and use it when needed. However, there are also some drawbacks to using portable power stations. The main advantage of using a best portable power station is that it can help you save money on your electricity bill. A portable power station can significantly reduce costs if you live in an area with high electricity rates or often experience power outages. Portable power stations can also be used during emergencies, like natural disasters. However, there are also some disadvantages to using portable power stations. One downside is that they can be expensive to purchase and maintain. Another potential issue is that they may need to work better in cold weather conditions. Finally, portable power stations could pose a fire hazard if not used properly.

Are portable power stations the answer to Canada's energy needs?

There are many reasons why portable power stations could be the answer to Canada's energy needs. For one, portable power stations are more efficient than traditional power stations. They can be easily moved to areas where needed most and can be used to provide power during blackouts or other emergencies. Additionally, power station portable generate less pollution and greenhouse gases than traditional power stations. Portable power stations could reduce Canada's carbon footprint in several ways. First, by displacing fossil fuel-powered generators, portable power stations would reduce carbon dioxide emissions and other greenhouse gases. Additionally, by providing backup power during grid outages, portable power stations would help reduce the need for emergency diesel generators, which are typically very polluting.

Conclusion

Portable Power Stations can be an effective way to reduce Canada's carbon footprint by providing an efficient and reliable source of energy. By utilizing renewable sources of electricity such as wind, solar, and water power, these stations create a clean and sustainable form of energy production that will help preserve our environment for future generations. With the help of portable power stations, we can begin to make a difference in combating climate change by reducing our use of fossil fuels.

[hanckocks-dagger]

Shake, rattle, and roll

masterlist

John Hancock x f!reader

Description: After three weeks on the road, you come home to Goodneighbor to find a sweet surprise from Hancock. Naturally, you fuck him about it. 

Tags: Such sappy smut guys, holy shit theyre in love, Hancock is a simp. Reader could be viewed as SoSu or not, no y/n, female anatomy

Warnings: smut! Pretty vanilla though, honestly, so nothing else to mention

Word count: 6K

Cross posted on my ao3

The last day of travel was always the worst; with the end goal in sight

The morning sun beat down on you, the trek from Lexington having seemed almost endless. There was only one thing on your mind as you marched over the Harvard bridge; Hancock's bed. You had the full intention of crawling right into it and staying there, comatose, for several days.

Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. You needed to unload the spare weapons you'd picked up, throw those to KL-E-0. You also had some things to drop at Daisy's, some things to pass on to Ham for the Third Rail...

You pulled your pack higher onto your shoulders, ignoring the ache of your back from the weight of it, all the junk you'd decided to ferry back with you. The straps of the bag were sure to leave deep, painful indents in your skin, almost permanently rubbed raw after weeks of travel.

Downtown, you skirted between Diamond City outposts, making your usual wide berth around the city itself. Despite being human and technically welcome inside the city, you'd taken to avoiding it, as if their prejudice was infectious. You hadn't entered the gates in months by now, and even though you missed Power Noodles and stopping by the agency to bother Nick, you felt no real urge to step inside.

The inhabitants' paranoia, towards the institute and towards outsiders, made the air in the city oppressive. Compared to the freedom of Goodneighbor, even with all of its own problems, Diamond City felt tyrannical in comparison.

You made a wide berth around the old scrap yard, overrun by feral dogs, climbing a fire escape to reach the elevated turnpike.

The closer you got to Goodneighbor, the hard it was to push forward. With the end in sight, close enough that you could practically count the steps you had left, aware of every finite amount of energy you had to eke from your body. Still, you reused to break, pushing forward, hands wrapped tight around the straps of your pack, like a schoolchild with their brightly colored schoolbag

Just a little further. Just a little more. The turnpike turned North, and you had to duck and pause as some gunner scouts passed, the highway connected to some high-rises, precarious wooden planks forming bridges.

Crouched down low, your calves burned, your fingers ached as you gripped your revolver, checking the bullet count on autopilot and lining up a shot, just in case you were spotted.

You weren't, the mercenaries passing from one end of the bridge to the other, wood creaking under their weight, loud, unconcerned conversation passing between them.

You sneaked past them in a crouch, knees and back protesting, familiar flood of adrenaline humming through your blood, heartbeat in your ears. The thrill stayed even once you were out of eyesight, until you'd shaken out your joints and rolled your shoulders, back to your brisk pace.

One of these days, you promised yourself, zeroing in on the broken jaw of the freeway that you used to find your bearings, you'd find a way to make a portable Ham-radio. Staying away so long was making you half-insane. You hadn't heard his voice in over two weeks, and at this point you would have sold all the loot you were lugging around to see his face a few minutes sooner. You'd pay insane sums to be able to hear him on the regular while you were away. Joking, complaining, hell, even just reading off his fucking caravan logs.

The body of the freeway dropped to the ground, crumbling concrete surrounding a Gunner camp, probably the one those two idiots earlier were supposed to be protecting. Well, you thought, pulling a trip-mine from your pack, it wasn't your fault if they were fucking morons.

Behind the rusted body of a truck, you waited for the perfect moment to strike, listening with patience to the Gunners as they yelled and laughed, carefree in the way only over-confident assholes ever could be. On a different day, you would have attacked with something more complicated, something that could blast the entire camp in one go, but today, you were tired and homesick.

At the right moment, you activated the mine and tossed it, scurrying from behind your car to drop off the side of the freeway, landing in a crouch in an alley a street over from Goodneighbor, booking it as the mine went off and the yells changed from happy to panicked.

You'd often thought, as you and Hancock laid spread eagle on the bed, or sprawled over the couch, that between the two of you, you were by far the one more likely to turn feral. He was too clever, his mind too sharp, even dulled by drugs. You were the one running around the wasteland, scampering like some little creature, hoarding old-world junk, killing nearly indiscriminately. You survived on the high of your own adrenaline, surviving scrapes by the skin of your teeth, by clawing, biting, crushing, choking.

You held your breath until you could see the glow of the welcome-sign, neon arrow pointing at the door, like to the entrance of a dingy nightclub. It shone like a beacon even in the daylight, beckoning you home.

When your fingers touched the door, you swore you gained a second wind, the eerie stillness of downtown Boston turning into the hum of bustling Goodneighbor residents. You greeted the Neighborhood watch as you entered the town, and they variously tipped caps or winked at you, hands always on their guns.

Daisy's was full, the sure sign of a newly passed caravan. You spotted that Railroad guy, sipping from a bottle on the bench in front of the store, doing his usual job of completely failing to fit in by being almost unnaturally nondescript. That might work in Diamond city, but not in Goodneighbor.

Your steps were slow as you maneuvered through the crowd, aware of the pack on your back and the guns slung over your shoulders. You headed for Kill or Be killed, planning to unload some ammo and spare rifle you'd picked up. You kept your eyes peeled for that flash of red in your periphery, the heat that filled your chest whenever you were near him.

KL-E-0's store was empty, meaning she was probably on the second floor, conducting some less than savory business. You'd hustle out of there if you heard the sound of her laser powering up, but you decided to spare a few minutes.

You leaned your forearms onto the counter, taking some of the weight off your sore feet and back, eyes running over the visible apparel, wondering what things you should offload.

Sure enough, barely a minute passed before you could hear the wood creaking above you, footsteps descending the staircase and an achingly familiar voice:

"-Talk when my girl brings something new, call it a uh- personal favor."

You raised your head from where it had been lolling, that familiar voice sending a sweet ache through your chest and a giddy smile onto your face. His girl.

Hancock was turned away from you, speaking to KL-E-0, trusty shotgun in his hands.

If your pack had been lighter, you would have bounded into his arms and dragged him right back to the old State House. You would have indulged the exhibitionist in him, wrapped your legs around his waist and let him stick his tongue down your throat right there in the street.

Instead, though, you settled for walking over, supporting the bottom of your pack to keep it from rattling. KL-E-0's red eye flickered over to you for a moment, inscrutable as always, but she stayed quiet, allowing you to surprise Hancock as he chattered about the recoil of his gun.

You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, smushing your face between his shoulder blades. You breathed him in, the familiar smell of tanned hide, cigarettes and that ever present old-museum-smell that he'd tried many times in vain to get rid of. You inhaled with a shudder, pressing a kiss to his back, feeling his momentary frozen shock melt away as he seemed to register who was touching him.

He spun in your arms, leaving you face to face with soft eyes and a softer smile, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

Warm lips pressed to yours and you melted arms sliding up to hook around his shoulders, pulling him flush to you. A corner of your mind– or your heart– which had spent the past two weeks growling about being apart from him, finally quieted down.

"Is that your gun digging into my hip, or are you just happy to see me, love?" He asked you when you separated, leaving you to snort and hide your face in his shoulder, so giddy you thought you might burst with it.

You swallowed past your joy, composing yourself so that you could lean back and flick the tip of Hancock's tricorn-hat upwards, giving you a better view of those lovely dark eyes, always so emotive, crinkled at the corners.

"Good to see you too, Mister Mayor," You breathed, hands sliding from his shoulders down to his waist, backing out of KL-E-0's store, dragging Hancock along with you. He came willingly, not allowing even an extra inch between the two of you.

All thoughts of bartering, even your own body's complaints were forgotten, your heart singing. You blinked against the sunlight, convinced suddenly that the weather was reflecting your mood.

"What's your plan for the day?" You asked, when it became clear Hancock was too busy staring at you to say anything. The two of you seemed to be wandering in a leisurely pace towards the old State House, but you didn't care where you were going. You'd follow him around all day if you had to. You could be going right back into the Wastes for all you cared. You'd trail behind him as he did whatever he needed to do, collapse from exhaustion and let him carry you back to bed.

"Oh, you know," He said, pulling you up the steps to the Old State House, opening the door for you, ushering you inside, "Was gonna get high and mope around all day, waiting for you." He had no sooner shut the door than he grabbed you by your belt, pinning you to the wall, your heavy pack hitting the wall. "Probably drive Fahrenheit crazy with my pining–"

You hum, smoothing out the lapels of his coat as his hands wander.

"Now, I'm thinking we go up and let the whole town we're reunited."

"Sounds perfect," You agreed, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pushing him gently in the direction of the staircase. He led the charge, half toppling over every step in his desperation not to let go of you.

The second you hit the landing he whisked you back into his arms again, hands restless as he squeezed your sides, traveled up your arms, touched your face, all before coming right back down again to squeeze your ass. Another breathy laugh escaped you, so happy you couldn't put your smile away even as you kissed him.

His hand slid up to your lower back, guiding you towards the bedroom, your lips still locked together.

you pulled away at the door as Hancock filled with the stubborn doorknob, always jammed right when you needed it to open. You keep your arms hooked around him, but you give a salute to the neighborhood watchman stationed in front of your door. His face stayed stoic, either used to yours and Hancock's antics, or from copious threats from Hancock. Both seem equally likely.

He did give you a nod, though, as Hancock crooned in victory, having managed to fling the doors open. You gave him a smile, right as Hancock grabbed your arms and pulled you in. You kicked the doors shut behind you, already laughing as Hancock showered your face with kisses, dipping you like a dancer.

You separated from him enough to finally drop your pack, which thumps to the floor. Your guns come off, placed down with more care, followed by your bandolier and scavenging jacket.

Hancock cracked the doors open as you busied yourself, calling out, "Make sure to keep all the riff-raff out today, yeah brother?" And then the doors were shut and locked. A peaceful quiet descending over you.

He takes your hands, pulling you to the center of the bedroom, leaving you bathed in afternoon sunlight peeking in from the open balcony door. The room was as clean as it ever was, five hundred years of grime that you'd long given up on trying to get rid of.

With the door open and the spring air flooding in, everything felt fresher, not weighed down by centuries of history, but just a normal bedroom. Your books had been stacked in neat piles on the dresser, where you could see one of your shirt sleeves peeking out from the drawer. The bed was newly made, and....

"Is that..?" You stared, taking in the sharp white color of the fresh sheets, looking brand fucking new. Not Commonwealth new either, no, this looked like the bleached and pressed sheets of a fucking prewar hotel.

Your eyes sought out Hancock's, expecting to find him grinning, boastful, the usual exaggerated ego coupled with his general cool-demeanor, but instead you found him looking... uncertain. One hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was... bashful.

"Where did you get this?" You asked, stepping over to the bed. You ran a hand almost irreverently over the fresh sheets, feeling the starched, crisp texture of it, not rotting and mildewed like almost everything was.

"Oh, a uh– new trade caravan passed through last week. From somewhere out west, they've been growing cotton and weaving shit.

As if in a trance, you started shucking off your clothes, not wanting to sully the fresh sheets with your blood and dirt stained layers. You only get as far as your outer shirt when Hancock's hands sneak back onto your waist, almost timid in their touch. You half wanted to slap them off in your urge to get naked, get under the sheets and let him touch you there all he wanted.

Instead, you spin around to face him, guide his hands under your shirt to the warm skin of your stomach. "You're an angel, you know that?" You said.

He laughed, "Only for you, sister. Devil to everyone else."

You laughed back at him, finally shedding your shirt. As you try to wrestle off your boots with the force of your heel, all the examples to the contrary fly into your head: Every kind action he'd done, every willingly shared drug, every situation where he'd chosen less violence than he needed to. The nights you'd spent watching him agonize over whether he was good enough for his community, whether he was making the right decisions.

Instead of bringing those up, you pecked his lips in thanks. With his 'help' (groping), you got your undershirt and bra off, leaving your torso bare.

You leant down to unlace your boots, your earlier attempts having been futile, but before you could Hancock had you off your feet, tossing you head first into soft, fresh sheets. He took over, hands trailing teasingly over the waistband of your pants before he turned to your boots, sliding them off and taking your socks with them.

You groaned, cheek smushed into the mattress, as nimble hands pull your pants down and off. Trailing fingers, tickling the backs of your naked calves, up into the hollow of your knees. You had to stifle a giggle as a feather light touch against your inner thigh made you jump.

The bed shifted as he climbed onto it, his legs bracketing yours, knees pressing into the flesh of your thighs.

Fingers on the waistband of your underwear.

"How about we get these off?" His voice, low and gravelly, suddenly hot in your ear. A gentle bite to the cartilage of your earlobe, the drag of fabric as your underwear was pulled down your legs and then tossed somewhere.

"You know," You breathed, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could crane your neck and tried to catch him in a kiss. You missed, but settled for kissing his shoulder, hovering just by your head. "I'm feeling a bit exposed here. You've stripped me bare and you're still clothed."

You turned underneath him, determined to get him to kiss you again, were met with his grinning face just above yours. "Well, let no one call me an unfair man," He said, sinking onto his haunches, just out of reach of your desperate mouth. He plucked his tricorn from his head, settled it onto your.

You raised yourself to him, stole a quick peck, languishing in every brush of his lips against yours. It was dangerous, how much you'd missed him on the road, pining to the point of distraction. The times you'd ducked into buildings to ease an ache brought on by reminiscing, imagining him besides you, or on you, or in you. Imagining him being beside you as you stumbled into firefights, imagined his hands patching you up, rather than your own.

"You didn't happen to remember to take any Rad-X this morning, didya?"

His words pulled you from your stewing. You groaned. In your excitement to get home, you'd completely forgotten.

"Can't we just... skip it? This once?" You asked, pulling on his collar, dragging him down to lie on top of you, his mouth in reach again. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, hooking one leg around his waist to ground him to you, keep him from getting distracted.

"You and I both know you'd regret that in the morning, sister."

He was right, the bastard. Spending your morning throwing up, hooked to a Rad-Away was not your ideal first day back. So, lamentably, you release your grip on him, hands and leg flopping to the side as he leant over to grab a bottle from the nightstand.

"I'm sure we can find something to... entertain you, while we wait for it to kick in."

You pouted, making a show of how frustrating his interruption had been, how desperate you were to get him back. Here you were, naked, spread-eagle and waiting, with patience you didn't have.

You watched, silently, as he dug into the bottle, drawing out two pills. As he stepped back over, you pulled yourself back onto your elbows, waiting for him to hand them over, or maybe deposit them into your mouth himself.

Instead, as he kneeled onto the bed, he put them into his own mouth, leaning over you to meld his lips to yours. You grabbed at him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist to support your weight as you melted in his arms. Slowly, in long, deep, searing kisses, the pills moved from his mouth to yours. Once they were on your tongue, he pulled his mouth off yours, scarred lips shining with spit, and moved to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as you gather enough saliva to swallow the pills.

Rad-X was quick to kick in, but the effects weren't instantaneous, leaving the pair of you with at least ten minutes to kill. On a normal day, you would have been happy to spend those minutes making out, taking your time in stripping Hancock off his clothes, egging each other on with dirty words and dangerous fantasies. But you'd spent over three weeks away from Goodneighbor, over three weeks of precarious mental foreplay, dreaming of his touch at night, fantasizing of him in the day. Suddenly, even the prospect of radiation sickness was not enough of a reason to stay away.

You tore at his coat, rucking his frilly shirt out from under his sash, exposing his slim stomach. You watched the muscle there tense under your touch, as you ran cold hands over his hips, tugging him closer to you. With practiced hands, you made quick work of untying the sash at his hips, satiny fabric sliding from your fingers and onto the floor like a waterfall.

Hancock bit into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss and dig your nails into the skin by his hip bones in retaliation.

You pull his chin upwards, leading his mouth to yours again, keeping those teeth from doing any more damage just yet.

Your generous hands wandered, up and under his shirt, roaming over the breadth of his chest, feeling it expand as he inhaled. You nipped at his bottom lip, drawing out a rumbling groan, felt both in your mouth against his, and in the vibrations against your fingertips.

You scooted to the edge of the bed, bracketing his hips with your thighs, freeing his hands so you could tug his coat off. Your hands slipped up under his collar, pushing his narrow shoulders backwards, giving you enough leverage to push the heavy coat backwards, the heavy fabric thumping to the ground.

Sometimes, when Hancock looked particularly vulnerable, usually collapsed on one of his couches, bleary with the haze of jet, his outfit reminded you of a child playing dress-up. In ancient coat tailored for a man with broader shoulders, a hat fit for a pirate and a disdain for the sort power he wielded.

You pulled your lips off of his, formulating a plea that would get you what you wanted, what words would make him understand just how badly you�� ached for him, just how unbearable the emptiness in you was. You pressed a chaste kiss to his sternum, bare but hiding in the ruffles of his shirt, and made a blind grab for the waistband of his pants, words suddenly elusive.

His hands stopped yours, stilling them just by the button on his pants, so close to their goal.

You whined, the sound almost entirely involuntary, tilting your head up to meet Hancock's gaze with your own, sure now that he was teasing you.

"John," You managed, "This is cruel."

His eyes crinkled, as if you were the one making the joke, as if you weren't the one burning from the inside out.

"Well, now, I can't have you destroying my reputation. I worked hard to be known as a generous lover."

"Then stop teasing and fuck me."

But he only snickered like a bawdy teenager, gentle hands guiding yours to grasp at the fresh sheets. You watched helplessly, heartbeat in your throat, as he stepped back, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows before sinking to the floor in front of you, guiding your legs over his shoulders.

"This'll coast you over, sister."

He grabbed you by your thighs, tugging you closer until you could feel his breath on your [core]. Your thighs trembled, heels digging into his back, desperate to push him closer, to get his mouth where it needed to be.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands balled into fists, half convinced you would burst into tears if he didn't do something. You swore you could feel him laugh, right up against your pussy, unable to hear it over the rush of blood in your ears, a split second before his tongue was finally, mercifully, on you. The slick drag of it landing quickly on your clit, lapping at it teasingly, every strike on your nerves making you seize, already so worked up from being near him.

You cursed on an exhale, lungs burning, every nerve in your body sparking, your blood heating. There was an obscene slurping as he sucked hard against your clit, pressure just on the right side of pain, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Your head pushed hard into the mattress, Hancock's hat falling into your eyes, rendering the outside world suddenly dark.

Suddenly, all pressure vanished, making you let out a long, pitiful whine, releasing your death grip on the sheets to raise the hat and see what the ghoul would be torturing you with this time. You raised your head, found Hancock on his knees by the bed, looking at you with pure reverence, fingers running up and down over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs.

You could feel the way his ministrations had spread your juices, the way the skin at the meet of your thigh and pelvis were glued together, sticky, pulling at your pubic hair just enough to be uncomfortable.

"What are you starin' at?" You panted, trying to get his wandering mind back to the matter at hand.

He grinned up at you from his perch, "What do you think?"

Fingers, crawling slowly, teasingly, up your thigh, into the divot where leg meets hip, tickling. Then, slow, gentle strokes through your pussy lips, scooping up all your wetness. A teasing, fleeting touch across your clit, making you seize, arching off the bed with a whine.

Then, the slick, slow glide of those fingers inside you.

"F-Fuck," You huffed, meaning to say something more like 'fucking finally, you torturer'.

"Such a pretty girl for me," Hancock says, that sly purr sending its own spark up your spine, mixed with his fingers, a slow, tantalizing in and out, "Been thinking about you for  days,  love. All alone out there, with no one to help you out. Running back home, to me, to let me help."

His fingers stilled. You clenched around him, every muscle in your legs seizing, your chest heaving.

"Is that what you were doing?" His voice was delicious, closer now. There's a bite into the flesh of your stomach, just above your belly button and you tensed against it, squirming into his fingers.

"Yes," You breathed, grinding hard onto his fingers, willing something, anything, to put pressure on your clit. You try squeezing your legs together, but Hancock's arm is in the way. A pathetic whimper escapes you.

"Wanna tell me about it, sister?"

You get out a "Please," legs moving restlessly, trying to get him to do anything, go in our out, anything at all. Blindly, you reach out and get him by the back of the neck, trying to push him downwards. You can feel his smile against the skin of your hip.

"Nngh- mmm, yes, I thought of you. Every day I was away." His head sunk lower, chin resting on your pelvis. "Thought about this, or sharing a hit of jet, or letting you pour wine into my mouth."

His mouth found your clit again, and you were sure you could cry, feeling his tongue flicking at the little nub, fingers starting to move again, a slow, languid in and out.

You arched off the bed, hands gripping the back of Hancock's head, legs going over his shoulders, pressing into his back.

"Shit," You breathed, one hand shifting to grab his forearm. The pressure on your clit increased suddenly, sending a spark through you that left you limp. Your hands slid from their grips, spilling onto the bed.

You looked down, finding Hancock's eyes on you. Then, he twisted his fingers in a way you didn’t recognize increasing the suction on your clit until you felt like he was trying to give you a hickey. You gasped, fingers digging hard into the bed, fabric rustling in your palms, hips snapping upwards, further into his mouth.

"Wait, that felt– do it again," You panted, to which he happily obliged, tongue and fingers twisting in a way that lit a spark in your body, like the strike of a lighter. A few more repeated movements and you moaned, probably loud enough to wake the drifters in the attic. Hancock's free hand wandered up the bed, catching one of yours in his own with a gentle squeeze. A moment so sappily romantic it managed to push you over the edge, your orgasm cresting over you like a warm wave.

Slowly, with a few extra nips to your inner thigh, Hancock sat back. Face wet with you, mouth curved up into a smile. You squeezed your legs together, shading your clit from the open air, chest heaving as you recovered from over stimulation.

"Get up here, please," You called, voice languid, hands reaching out to embrace him, crush him to you, hold him there forever. He obliged, crawling up against you, the texture of his pants against your naked thighs sending goosebumps across your skin. He slotted perfectly into your arms, pressing his mouth to yours.

You ached for him, wanting to get him closer, to tangle with him until you were impossible to separate. You kissed him like you were starving, all teeth and desperation, hands moving to shove off his vest, to unbutton his shirt, to get him naked, get him closer. He helped you, tossing the vest and then the shirt to the floor, warm chest pressing to yours, your tits trapped between the two of you, his rough skin grazing against your nipples, heat building behind your sternum.

Between your bodies, you felt his hand work at his pants. You were pressed so close together that every fumble grazed against your core, sending shocks of heat through you. You were so overwhelmed with need you couldn't decide where to put your hands, sure you'd be more of a hindrance than a help if you tried to get involved.

He made quick work of it, tugging down his pants, followed by his underwear.

He lined himself up, your excitement mounting until you were sure you would come again the second he entered. He captured your lips in another searing kiss, and finally your hands moved without you having to think about it, settling low on his hips in an effort to drive him closer.

"Ready?" He asked, and you felt your mind flash back to your first time with him, a rushed affair after a night drinking with him at the Third Rail. Even then, as it was a desperate fumble to get naked as fast as possible, spread over the couch in his office, clawing and biting with ferality, both of you desperate to get closer, even then, he had paused, hands on your panties, and asked, in that same soft tone, if you were ready, as if he expected you to have changed your mind.

"Yeah, I'm ready," You breathed, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.

It's a slow, slick, delicious glide that has both of you groaning. Something in you slots into place, all your frenetic energy calm, as you grip at Hancock's back, burying your face in his neck as he starts to move.

"God, that's so–" you gasped, unable to finish, unsure of the words. You hitched a leg up onto John's waist, dragged him in for another kiss.

His pace was achingly slow, his touches sickeningly sweet. You focused on the fullness of it, the way the glide and drag of it seemed to fill your lungs even as he stole your breath with his tongue.

You wanted to live in this moment forever, here with him, inseparable in every way, as close as you could be. Hancock's hips drove deep, making you arch your back with a gasp for air, his lips vanishing off yours. The pace stayed sweet, sentimental, and you relished every sound that came from his mouth, every trembling breath.

"Wait," you breathed, tapping his shoulder like a time out, "Lemme, ugh–" With a few moves, you've twisted the two of you around, him on his back, you supporting yourself over him. He looked up at you, eyes twinkling with pure adoration, as you settled yourself with your legs under you, hands moving to his chest so you can keep your balance.

You settled yourself down onto his cock, your hips flush with his, and his hands found your waist, squeezing with that same softness. You set a pace, still calm, but decidedly faster, enough that your tits jiggle as you move.

"If this is some fucked up hallucination," Hancock rasped, voice choked, "I swear I'll lay off the drugs."

You laughed, breathless, grinding down to find that perfect spot inside you, hitting it over and over again, until the pleasure of it turns the inside of your eyelids white and your hands buckle, give out.

Arms caught you, of course, Hancock flipping you back over, managing to land that sweet spot again, enough that the tension spreads across your body, every muscle tensing up as you moaned, inches away from your second orgasm. His fingers on your clit do the trick, a few tight circles and the tension suddenly seeps out of you, a long, silent exhale. He fucked you through it, pace slowing down as you catch your breath.

You lean up to capture his lips again, grinding your hips to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to speed it up, to chase his own pleasure, relishing in the way his pace grows frantic, sloppier.

He gripped your wrists, bringing them over your head, held tight in his hands. Your torso lengthened, chin tilting upwards, exposing the length of your neck to him. He pulled away from your mouth so you take the chance, craning your neck upwards to nip at his skin, finding the soft tendons and sucking hard.

Through gasping breaths, he asked, "Where– nngh– where do you want me?" Your legs tightened around him, hands clawing at his back, using all the strength you had to keep him where he was.

Already, you can feel the way your own pressure is building back up, the way the repeated slide of it drives you right back to the edge.

"In– in me," You gasped, muscles shaking as he managed to hit that perfect spot in you over and over, back arching clean off the bed. You still weren't ready to let him go, even as you neared your third orgasm, still desperate to keep him where he was.

"Are you–"

"John," You cried, his hips slowing as he stopped again to check, your welfare always at the front of his mind. Sure, it would leave you raw and burning, making the next round a bit more pain than pleasure, but all you could think about was keeping the sensation of him imprinted on you as long as possible. "I'm sure, please."

He rutted against you, hips grinding against yours. His head dropped to your shoulder, gasping against your sweat slicked skin, two fingers sliding down against your throbbing clit.

You whimpered against him as pleasure flooded your body again, your grip on him weakening as your muscles shook, legs slipping from around his waist.

You mumbled words of praise as he came, hands roaming around his back, onto his cheek, your whispers of, "So good, so perfect, you're perfect, baby," audible only to him as he moaned. You felt the heat of him inside you, the slow building of fullness even as he softened.

You felt the slow, familiar tingling that preceded the lightly burning pain that would start. You felt Hancock shifting out of you, his mouth twisted into a guilty frown in the skin of your shoulder.

You clenched, feeling the slow dribble of heat spilling onto your skin.

Hancock's lips traced a path across your shoulder, down your arm, the occasional wet smack or nip at your skin pausing his journey. He detached himself from you slowly, regretfully, as if taking his skin off yours was some great sin. And it was, but in the service of a greater good, grabbing a clean strip of cloth from the bedside drawer, cleaning you up in gentle caresses, stickiness removed from your inner thighs, even softer touches over your pussy lips.

You let him busy himself, even as your fingers itched to get him back, wanting to tell him that you'd had worse pain, that you'd hurt for him every second if you had to. Instead, you only smiled at him when he glanced up at you, reaching up to pull him back to you. He came willingly as you pulled him back into your arms.

Tension faded out of your muscles and you melted into the bed, hands wrapped around Hancock's middle. "Did you miss me while I was gone?" You asked, smiling, voice soft. You just wanted to hear him say it, your own little version of 'I love you'.

Hancock raised his head, pecking your lips gently, leaving them tingling.

"More than you could ever know," He said, painfully earnest.

"Mmm, I think I have some idea."

Notes:

The smut chapter took me ages to write for some reason, so if it sucks... uh. No it doesn't (if u see any spelling errors pls let me know tho)

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[wheneverfeasible]

pirate!Steddie AU

wc: 2.5k || rated: M (to be safe) || cw: reference to suicide, non-consent, and other general piratey things || ao3

When one thought of the phrase ‘Pirate King’ there were always certain expectations involved. An older pirate, grizzled and uncaring beyond his own interests, vicious with blade and pistol, quick to stain his hands red with anyone he deemed foe. To be fair, that had been his father.

The former Pirate King was truly a degenerate, disgraced nobility who stole from his provinces, who cheated and lied and stole from commoners and royalty alike. His failed coup would have had him and his young pregnant wife on trial for treason had he not escaped to the sea on a pirate ship with what portable wealth he had managed to secret away.

He had taken his wife along, at first, before dumping her at some port town to focus on his new rise to power. And rise he did over the next decade.

He was cunning, and ruthless, and he knew the tricks of the trade from how often he had hunted pirates in the past. He made a name for himself, dubbed The Fallen Noble, until that had not been enough for him. No, this time, he was determined not to fail the coup.

Eventually the Pirate King before him fell to his blade and he took it upon himself to pick up the crown, striking fear across sea and land both. His exploits were well-known, his viciousness the stuff of nightmares, and his taste for violence bloodthirsty. He had gone back to his wife and young son then, had stopped by occasionally during his rise though his son feared each one of those stops, and swept them away back into the world of deceit and power.

The son, only a young boy at the time, was raised like a prince, the Pirate Prince, and taught to be just as cruel and bloodthirsty as his father. And for a time, he was. The boy’s mother tragically passed away one fateful night when she was swept off the bow during a storm, though for the life of him the boy did not remember any such storm that night.

The boy, though raised first in negligence and then in violence, secreted the softness in his heart away, playing the role given to him to the point where he almost started believing it himself. Until he fell in love.

She had been stolen from her home with her young brother, with the boy meant to be inscripted into service while she was meant to be a prize for the Pirate Prince. She was unlike anyone he had ever known before and it wasn’t hard to fall in love with her. She would not be cowed, however, and he was not his father who took what was not freely given.

However, despite his love for her, in truth she loved another.

It would have been all too easy to dispose of the boy who held her heart, but that thick shell he had hidden within to be his father’s son had been cracked beyond repair. He aided her in her and her brother’s escape, watching the small boat drift away from his father’s ship and exchanging a solemn nod with the boy she loved who had come to rescue them.

His mask would no longer fit, he could no longer be who he had once pretended to be, and it was then that the boy became a man and in an act of defiance fought and slew his own father to end his tyranny once and for all. This young man stood above his father’s corpse as the new Pirate King.

Despite his young age, the Pirate King was not to be underestimated. When a mutiny rose of his father’s crew who remained loyal to the fallen tyrant and those who sought the power for their own greedy hands, the young man stood firm and dispatched those who coveted his crown. He would not bow to another monster.

Imagine his surprise when, only a year under his crown, the young brother of the girl he’d once loved returned to him to join his crew of his own free will. He did not come alone either, bringing with him a small pack of youths who wanted more than what society dictated for them, who heard of the fabled Pirate King, youngest in history, who refused to be the evil that had been his father and who protected those who bent the knee.

Though they had nothing in common, the Pirate King felt a kinship with these brave youths who wanted more, wanted to be more, and who stubbornly would not take heed when he tried to banish them off the ship. There was fierceness in their eyes, a hunger he knew all too well, and so while it at times made him feel more like a babysitter than a Pirate King with their youthful exuberance, he could do nothing but accept their honest fealty.

Along the way he met other wayward souls, including the sister of one of his greater rivals and the daughter of the man currently spearheading the hunt for pirates, as well as the young woman so desperate for a life of freedom, a life to be herself, that she soon found her way to being his second-in-command and who was almost as feared as he was.

Well. Feared by everyone except her and the youths he’d taken under his wing.

“Captain Dingus, sir, the rodent is on board.”

Steve Harrington, Pirate King and Captain of the Loch Nora, glanced up from where he was carefully sliding his dagger against the stone in his hand, a less than pleased expression pulling at his face at his quartermaster’s continued insubordination. He only sighed, however, since she at least had the decency to only do so when they were alone or among very select company.

Dropping his feet from his desk where he was leaning back in his thick, ornate chair that was more like a throne than anything else, Steve stood as he wiped his blade on a scrap of cloth before sliding it into home on his belt.

“Come now, Buck. He’s at the very least a snake,” he teasingly reprimanded with a grin as he moved towards her to follow her out of his cabin. “And just like one, he may be crawling on his belly soon enough if he isn’t prepared to pay off his debt.”

Robin was uncharacteristically quiet at that, and when Steve glanced over at her, he could see her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. He raised his brows at that under the swoop of his hair, something telling him that he was going to find something far more interesting than the coin the man in question owed them. Whether that something interesting was going to be good or not was still to be decided.

It took only moments to move onto the deck of his ship, eyeing his crew as they stood encircling the kneeling figure in the middle. No. The kneeling figures.

Steve cast a quick glance Robin’s way at the sight before them, taking in not a chest or even bag of coins to pay off the man’s debt, but rather a younger man around Steve’s own age, bound and gagged kneeling next to the proverbial snake.

“Munson,” Steve drawled, and both pairs of dark eyes snapped to him. It was almost uncanny, making the resemblance even more obvious between the two kneeling men.

Alan Munson gave Steve a briefly panicked looked, before his mask of bravado settled over his features and he, neither bound nor gagged, shot Steve a smile that might have soothed his ruffled feathers had he not grown impervious to such looks thanks to his younger crew members’ own beguiling smiles. Munson clasped a hand over his chest above his heart.

“My liege, it is an honor to see you once more,” the older man formally intoned, bowing his head as though Steve were a real king and not just one who roamed the seas. His tone was light though, only the slightest tremor and the sweet dotting his brow belied the man’s nervousness.

Steve stopped in front of the two men, resting his weight on one leg as he brought his hands to settle on his hips. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he took in the tableau before him. Alan tried to meet his gaze with confidence he obviously did not feel, his eyes skittering away whenever Steve glanced at him, while the younger man glared up at Steve with all he was worth.

The young man’s eyes were rimmed with red, glassy in the way that spoke of past tears, and his thin chest heaved with the emotions swirling in his brown eyes so deep they were nearly black. The glare was not reserved only for Steve, however, as those dark eyes kept landing on Munson with anger and heartbreak and betrayal.

“Tell me, Munson. Are you hiding my money somewhere on your body in a questionable location, or are you planning on being another stain on my deck?” Steve said in an almost conversational way, though he had to withhold a snort as both pairs of identical dark eyes moved as one to look down at the dark stain inches from where they kneeled.

(The stain was actually due to Robin’s clumsiness spilling her dinner one night, but it made for a good impression.)

Munson recovered first with his smile only slightly shakier than it had been. He looked up at Steve in what he obviously hoped was a charming as disarming way. “I would never do you the disservice of cheating you, your majesty,” he said, and Steve might have believed him had the man not been infamously known in town to be a swindler and a cheat.

Munson’s eyes darted over to the younger man beside him before looking back up at Steve. “I regret that I don’t have your money at the moment—but I have something better!” he hastened to add on when the sound of drawn steel began ringing out as the surrounding pirates began drawing their various blades.

Steve held up a hand halting his overzealous crew mates, though he had to suppress a smile as well. Though most of the youngsters had once been squeamish at the darker aspects of the pirate lifestyle, they had since grown accustomed to the needs and requirements Steve placed on them. It helped that Steve did not needlessly shed blood, even when faced with the likes of Alan Munson.

“I am a very particular man, Munson. You will find that when I request my coin, it is not a request at all, nor am I interested in substitutions,” Steve's tone continued to drawl, though it became sharper towards the end as his wrist moved to settle meaningfully over the hilt of his sword at his waist.

Munson swallowed thickly with a jerking nod. “I understand, your majesty,” he rushed to say, before settling his hand on the young man’s shoulder beside him, causing said young man to flinch away with a shout muffled by the cloth in his mouth. When he tried to jerk away, two strong hands moved to force him back to his knees, courtesy of Steve’s crew.

Steve did not so much as bat an eye, merely lifting a brow to encourage Munson to continue. Without looking remorseful at all, he did so.

“My son, Edward,” Munson clarified, indicating the young man beside him though he did not reach out to touch him again. “I offer my own flesh and blood, my only child and son, into your generous hands. He is a hard worker, stronger than he appears, and capable of whatever task you set him.” There was not even a hint of a trace of hesitation on Munson’s face as he sold his own some out. “I give him to you to cover my debt, whether you keep him or sell him for profit.”

More angry, muffled noises came from the young man, from Edward Munson, son of Alan Munson, who was being treated as little more than chattel now and a bargaining trip to clear his father’s debt. Steve wanted nothing more than to slide his blade through Munson’s neck in that moment. His face hardened, but he let a deceptive smile curl over his lips.

Steve was, in the end, a pirate. And the Pirate King himself at that. His hands were hardly clean. The idea that a father would sell their child into slavery just to save their own neck, however, seemed far more evil than anything he had ever done, up to and including killing his own father.

Stepping towards the bound young man, Steve reached out to grasp the young man’s chin, squeezing sharply when Munson Jr. tried to jerk away. He angled the young man’s hand this way and that to examine him, before roughly releasing him to face the elder Munson.

“I will accept this trade only with a provision,” Steve began, Munson’s ecstatic expression dropping to one of wariness as Steve’s tone turned darker. “If your son does not perform his duties properly, or if he does not return to me what your owe with interest, I will gut him like a dog in front of you before doing the very same to you. Do I make myself clear, Munson?”

Munson’s eyes widened, his face rapidly paling, but he was nodding quickly once more. “Y-yes, I understand, your majesty. He won’t disappoint.”

“Let us hope so, for your benefit.” Steve glanced at the crew behind the kneeling man with a subtle jerk of his chin, the silent communication having them hauling him roughly to his feet and shoving him towards the boat they’d dragged him in on. Steve then cast his eyes towards Robin. For the benefit of the bound man still kneeling before him, he spoke his next order out loud, despite Robin already knowing what he would say.

“Mr. Buckley, see to it that Mr. Munson is left with a reminder as to why it’s important to always pay your debts promptly and fully,” he said with a small smirk, dropping his gaze to the young man who was struggling against his bonds and gag, his eyes desperately on his father. “Just something he can live without. Maybe a toe, or his little pinky finger,” he grinned.

Robin unsheathed her own blade strapped to her thigh with a dark grin of her own. “Gladly, Captain,” she replied with a nod, and he knew he would soon hear the pleasant music of a scream of fear and pain.

Steve’s eyes cut to the pirates holding Munson Jr. down. “Let’s be gracious hosts and escort our guest here to his quarters,” he said, tone ripe with sarcasm. “And then let’s get the hell out of here once the riffraff is gone.” He smiled as, at that moment, Munson’s scream filled the air, causing Munson Jr. to flinch as Keith hauled him to his feet and began pushing him to the brig below deck.

Steve had been correct, he thought as he gazed out to the sea, feeling the winds of change in the air. Munson’s payment had been interesting. Now he just had to decide what he wanted to do with his payment.

To be continued…

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Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

[colinwilson11]