#Cement Feeding Machine

[rmxsolution]

Why Silo Feeding Systems Are Essential for Modern Industrial Facilities

Operational efficiency, accuracy and reliability are key in the ever-changing industrial operating environment. Silo feeding systems emerged as indispensable tools for companies handling bulk commodities such as cement, fly ash, and fine powder. Whether you are looking for a Silo Feeding System Manufacturer or looking for the benefits of a Cement Feeding System, understanding its importance can help your facility run more efficiently

The Role of Silo Feeding Systems in Modern Industry

The silo feeding system ensures maximum transfer, storage and utilization. From manufacturing facilities to construction sites, these systems are designed to handle large volumes with the involvement of a handful of hands. This not only improves efficiency but also reduces waste and downtime.

In industries such as cement manufacturing, where accuracy in material handling is essential, the cement silo fly ash feeding system manufacturer offers customized systems to ensure material continuity regular This solution to ensure the quality and uniformity of end-use products is imperative.

Key Benefits of Silo Feeding Systems

Enhanced Efficiency: Silo feeding systems automate material handling, allowing facilities to streamline operations and focus on core tasks. Partnering with a trusted Manufacturer of Feeding Systems ensures that the equipment aligns with specific operational needs.

Optimized storage solutions: provide more advanced storage than modern systems such as cement storage silos or cement floors. These silos prevent contamination, protect products from the environment, and facilitate retrieval when needed.

Material reduction:  Systems such as mechanical cement dispensers or fly ash silos ensure precise material handling, reducing spills and waste. This not only saves costs but also reduces environmental impact.

Scalability and Customization: Whether you need a compact silo container for a small office or a large feeding system for industrial plants, manufacturers offer scalable solutions to meet a variety of needs

Common Types of Silo Feeding Systems

There are silo food systems, each tailored to specific technologies. Some popular options are:

Cement Feeding Systems: Designed for the movement and storage of large quantities of cement, ensuring a constant flow of water along production lines.

Fly Ash Silo Systems: Ideal for handling fly ash and other particulate matter, these systems prevent dust waste and improve material flow.

Horizontal Cement Silos: Compact and easy to transport, these are perfect for temporary or mobile operations.

Understanding the unique features and applications of each system can help businesses choose the most appropriate solution.

Applications Across Various Industries

Siled food systems are not limited to the cement industry. It is widely used in many fields, e.g.

Production: To store and maintain raw materials such as cement and fly ash.

Chemicals: For better handling of powders and granules.

Agriculture: The gathering and distribution of grain or food.

Investing in a reliable system from a reputable feeding system manufacturer ensures versatility and longevity in this application.

Applications in the Cement Industry

The cement industry heavily relies on advanced feeding systems for operations like material blending, grinding, and storage. A Cement Feeding System plays a vital role in maintaining the integrity of materials during production. Additionally, the use of Horizontal Cement Silo systems enables easy transport and installation, making them ideal for temporary or remote sites.

A leading Cement Silo Fly Ash Feeding System Manufacturer ensures these systems meet industry standards, providing durable and efficient solutions that withstand demanding environments.

Choosing the Right Manufacturer

When choosing a Silo Feeding System Manufacturer, prioritize companies that have a proven track record of providing reliable innovative systems. For example, manufacturers outside of RCMPL offer a variety of feeding solutions to suit technical needs. From robust cement dispensing machines to versatile silo containers, their products cater to a wide range of applications.

By choosing the right partner, companies can ensure seamless integration of food systems, improve efficiency and maintain industry standards.

Conclusion

In today’s competitive industrial environment, the adoption of efficient material handling systems is non-negotiable. Silo feeding systems not only enhance operational efficiency but also play a crucial role in maintaining product quality and reducing operational costs. Whether you’re in the market for a Cement Storage Silo, Fly Ash Silo, or a comprehensive feeding system, working with a trusted Manufacturer of Feeding Systems is key to achieving your goals.

Explore innovative solutions at RCMPL to take your operations to the next level. With a range of cutting-edge feeding systems, you can ensure that your facility stays ahead in efficiency and performance.

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”

With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.

The jingle of keys echoed through the air. 

Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”

“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?” 

“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”

Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.” 

“Hey, babysitting is my job.”

He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.” 

“Cut me some slack, kid.” 

“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.” 

“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?” 

“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.” 

“Leaving so soon?” 

You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.” 

“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?” 

Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.   

“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?” 

“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin. 

“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.” 

He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.” 

“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.

“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.” 

You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?” 

“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.” 

Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?” 

“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”

Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”

“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.” 

“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”

Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth. 

With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.

As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.” 

Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.

Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled. 

“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.” 

“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours. 

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.

Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?” 

You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.” 

“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.”  He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this. 

Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.

“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head. 

“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.

Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.

The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?” 

“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.” 

“Baby, they’re ugly.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick. 

He stopped immediately. 

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.” 

Toji snapped. 

He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth. 

You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up. 

Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?” 

You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control. 

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.” 

Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?” 

“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.” 

Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?” 

“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole. 

You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood. 

“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?” 

“Fuck me, Toji. Please.” 

He could get off on your begging alone. 

His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days. 

Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage. 

Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy. 

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips. 

“Do it.” 

Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations. 

 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another. 

Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked. 

The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed. 

Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night. 

“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.” 

“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.” 

“That little shit already considers you his mother.” 

You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.” 

Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?” 

“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.” 

He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately. 

“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”

He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.” 

You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.” 

“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night. 

Toji smiled. 

[goosewriting]

Class is now in session

summary: reader is in university and starts taking a liking to a certain redhead.

relationship: college AU biker!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: cameo fest, mentions of alcohol, cal punches a guy, idiots in love 😩💞, gets a lil spicy at the end 🫣 this might border on crack tbh

word count: 11k because i am deranged

A/N: this started out as an innocent college AU with jock!Cal, but my insta feed brought me back to the depths of biker guys x booktok girlies so this idea cemented itself into my brain and i just ran with it. this is 100% self-indulgent, packed with every trope i could think of, and got completely out of hand. i am not sorry. bon appetit :) 

[all masterlists] 🪶 [star wars masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/N2: please excuse the pacing at the start, it's a bit of a mess. but i promise it gets better! also i use college and university interchangeably here because i’ve personally only been to uni, so sorry if it's confusing ;;-;;

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

As you’re leaving your first class at the new college, you think back to orientation week where you met Sabine. She’s the only one you know here now, other than Ahsoka, a friend from your home town who’s come to this university too for her masters. You have no idea how, but Ahsoka somehow managed to have you move in after her roomate left, so that you now share the flat, which you’re super happy about. At least one thing (or person) less to worry about.

In the class that just finished, you sat with Sabine, and she introduced you to Ezra, her friend from high school. So that’s now two people you at least know by name here. 

You hurry to get to your next class which is basically across campus in one of the bigger auditoriums, and it’s the biggest class by far. Sabine and Ezra don’t attend this one, so you don’t know anyone here. You look around as you cross into the room, observing how the students swarm in in waves, quickly taking their seats. Walking down to the middle row, you quickly scan the group, thinking who seems approachable to eventually start chatting. 

The class goes by rather quickly, being the first one and all, it was more about formalities than actual content. Someone had arrived just on time as the professor also walked in, a redhead that caught your eye, but the moment the class was over, he left quickly. In fact everyone leaves quickly, and you can’t help but be dragged along by the mass of people and you find yourself in the hallway, which just as quickly as it filled, is empty once more.

For lunch you meet with Sabine and Ezra, and you all get to know each other a little better. At first you thought they might be dating, judging by how close they seem, but they never mention it during your meal. If Sabine is willing to have boy talk with you, you make a mental note to ask her about it at some point.

In the afternoon, you start your job at the library. A tall and elegant woman, Shaak Ti, shows you the ropes, and soon you’re left to your own devices at the desk, doing some smaller tasks to get you started. Not soon after, Ahsoka comes by for a quick visit to say hi.

Your shift is almost over when someone comes up to the check-out desk where you sit. You hear them approaching, and as you lift your eyes from your work, you recognise it’s the redhead from today’s class. Putting on your best customer support smile and voice, you ask how you can help, and he says that the self check-out machine isn't working. 

How strange, you think, remembering how Shaak Ti showed you earlier how it works, and it did so just fine. But it’s quicker to just ring up his book now, and you could check the machine later. So you take the two books from him as well as his student ID and scan everything, doing your thing. You see his name on the ID: Cal Kestis. So that's what he's called. Maybe if you meet in class again, you could say hi. It would be super awkward if he didn't recognise you, though. 

Shaking away your thoughts for the moment, you repeat to him what Shaak Ti told you earlier about the borrowing of materials, the e-mail notice and that he can check the return date on his university account. Taking his books and card, Cal thanks you with a smile and leaves. Standing up from the desk after a moment, you go to the self check-out machine to see what’s wrong with it, trying to remember if Shaak Ti gave you the number for the technician. You try out the process several times with a random book and your ID and it works perfectly. Strange, you think again. 

By the time you get back to your dorm, which is a short bus ride away from campus, it’s already evening. You enter your room, grimacing a bit at how empty and lifeless it still looks. But you know you’ll be quick to decorate it and fill the space with your things to make it feel a bit more like home, albeit a temporary one.

Arriving at uni the next day, you get off the bus and walk towards the building. A motor bike passes you and parks in the designated area, your eyes unintentionally following the person, and you check them out a bit. The whole outfit, leather jacket and all, do look good, and you stare for perhaps a second too long. When the person takes off the helmet, you realise it’s the redhead from yesterday. He catches you looking at him and gives you an acknowledging nod and smile. Your head immediately turns the other way, cheeks burning at getting caught, and you walk away hastily, knowing this interaction will haunt you for the rest of the day since you could have just smiled or waved back instead of being so obvious. 

Back in the big class, he spots you again and gives a short wave and an unsure smile. This time you make sure to smile and wave back at him.

After lunch with Sabine, you’re at your locker, picking up some things, talking to her and Ezra who joined you as well. They both suddenly look over your shoulder behind you, and you turn around only to be faced with him.

“Seems like I keep seeing you everywhere,” Cal says, leaning sideways onto the lockers. “I think it’s time we finally get properly introduced, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he exchanges a look with Ezra, which you can’t really decipher, as you don’t know either of them well enough.  

“I’m Cal,” he introduces himself. “But I think you already knew that.”

You tell him your name, and as Ezra joins the conversation, it turns out they’re actually friends. 

“So how do you know him?” Sabine asks, her eyes going from Cal to you.

“ We share a class, and he came by the library yesterday,” you explain, taking a look at the time. “Which I actually should be heading to now. My shift starts soon.” 

Sabine gives you a strange knowing look too, to which you don’t know how to respond. But before you can ask what’s up, she says that Ezra and her have another class, so they leave.

Cal walks you to the library, claiming he has to go to practice and it’s on the way (its not). It’s a short walk but you’re racking your brain for something to fill up the silence. Unable to come up with anything better, you tell him that if he wants to check out another book, you can show him how to use the self check-out machine. 

“You said it was broken,” you say, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “But I checked and it worked just fine.”

“I know,” he responds after a second, and you turn to him with a ‘Huh?’. Smiling, he adds, “See you around.” 

And with that he leaves you by the library entrance, even more question marks circling in your mind. To your surprise and further confusion, you find that he didn’t leave you with just questions, but also a bit of a racing heart.

Finally the weekend rolls around, and Ahsoka is out with her best friend Rex and his buddies, so you invite Sabine over for a movie marathon and lots of snacks. Since it’s just the first week of class, you don’t have that many assignments yet, which you want to take advantage of while you can. 

As you’re both cosied up on the couch, you ask her about Ezra and if there’s anything between the two, and her face makes you laugh out loud. She says he’s more like a brother to her, since they’ve known each other for so long. But then she asks if there’s anyone you’re interested in.

You find yourself stumbling over your own words and end up somehow confessing to both her and your surprise, that you may have a teeny tiny crush on Cal. Sabine’s almost too excited about it and says you should tell Ezra so they can set you up on a date or something. But you make her promise she won’t tell either of them, to which she ends up agreeing. You don’t need the drama or the distraction; you just want to focus on classwork after all and survive one semester at a time. 

On Monday you have the big class again, and you stay after it’s done to ask Professor Kenobi something. Everyone is leaving the room, and he’s packing away his things as you approach his desk, starting to formulate your inquiries, but you see his eyes going past you for a moment, then looking at you again with a soft smile. 

“Why don’t you send your questions to my e-mail,” he offers. “Isn’t it your lunch break now? Wouldn’t want to hold you off, especially when there seems to be someone waiting for you.”

You blink a couple of times, then turn to look to the entrance door where, sure enough, Cal is waiting for you, leaning back onto the wall. He gives a short wave, which you quickly reciprocate, and you excuse yourself from the professor with heat prickling at your cheeks, telling him that you will do just that. 

As you reach the door, Cal pushes himself off the wall to walk beside you. Before you can ask him what he’s up to and why he waited for you, he talks first. 

“Are you eating at the cafeteria today? Wanna grab lunch together?”

You consider his offer for a moment, but then give him a short shrug.

“I’m not really super hungry and the menu today didn't have anything that I particularly crave, so I think I’ll just get something from the vending machine.”

“You sure? You shoudln’t skip meals, you know.”

“It’s fine, really,” you chuckle. “I’ll just get early dinner and I promise to eat something substantial.” “Yeah, you better,” he jokes, lightly pushing you with his shoulder.

Turning your face away to hide how flustered you’re getting at not just his playfulness but the fact that he waited for you, you reprimand yourself for a moment for getting your hopes up. Wanting to grab lunch with a classmate is normal! This is normal! Stop being weird, you tell yourself.

Just as you want to face Cal again to change the subject, you hear some voices from the hallway around the corner where the vending machines are. You think you recognise them, and you don’t know what on Earth compels you to, but you walk the few steps to take a peek. At the end of the hall, you see Professor Kenobi with a man. He’s tan, has broad shoulders and is very handsome. 

“Hello, my love,” Kenobi says in a low voice barely audible to you, and quickly leans in to kiss the stranger.

Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth before any sound of surprise can come out, and you quickly spin around, directly into Cal’s chest with an oomph.

“Wha–” Cal holds onto your shoulders to keep you from falling with how quickly you tried to recoil. “Whoa there, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I feel like I just saw something I wasn’t supposed to,” you admit, hiding your face in your hands for a moment, then looking at him with big eyes.

This intrigues him, and Cal steps past you to take a look. 

“There’s no one there…?”

You look around the corner again as well, and the hallway is indeed empty.

“Prof Kenobi was just there a second ago, with someone else. Kissing,” you add the last part under your breath. 

“Oh?” Cal raises a brow, sounding strangely interested. “Well, let’s go see where they went.”

You shoot him an alarmed look.

“What? Why?”

But he’s already walking, looking over his shoulder and gesturing for you to follow with a playful smile. So you follow suit. You’ve never been to this part of the building, and compared to the bustle back where there were constant streams of people walking to and out of the cafeteria, here it’s surprisingly quiet. 

“I wonder where they even went,” Cal thinks aloud and stops where the hallway ends in a dead end. There’s several doors to the left, offices from the psychology faculty judging by the signs next to the doorframe. On the right there’s the big door leading to the staircase. There’s a paper sign stuck to it with tape that catches your attention, so you step closer to read it.

“Seems like the floors below are currently closed off because of repairs,” you paraphrase the warning sign. “So they must have gone up.”

You turn to look at him, and see realisation wash over his face, which quickly changes into a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, is that where we are.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him in suspicion. 

“I heard that there was an off-limits floor in this wing. It’s been like that for years actually, not because they’re reparing something but because strange things happen there.”

You scoff, giving him an incredulous look.

“Didn’t take you for the superstitious type,” you deadpan. 

“I’m not.” He looks at the sign and back at you. “But c’mon, aren’t you a little curious? They say it’s haunted, but if you go there and come back out, then you’ll have good luck in… passing your exams.”

“...Did you just make that up?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest defensively and raising a brow at him. 

“...No?” Cal retorts, and it’s anything but convincing. Taking a step closer to you, he adds, “Come on, don’t you feel the call of adventure?”

“The only call you’ll feel is your emtpy stomach when you’re training,” you say, taking one last glance at the big door, then looking at Cal. “Shouldn’t you be having lunch right now?”

“I can eat later,” he shrugs. 

“I thought skipping meals was a no-no.”

“I can make an exception today. For both of us.”

Before you even have a chance to stop him, he pushes open the door to the staircase, and you see there’s a chain blocking the way to the stairs leading down, but he steps over it, looking back and offering his hand to you. 

You look up, listening for anyone who might be coming downstairs, but it’s still silent. Almost eerily so. You look at Cal’s face for a moment, and sigh in defeat, taking his expecting hand. He grins in victory. 

“You’re being a horrible influence, you know that?” you say with a playful smile.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little bad every now and then,” he points out with a wink, and you roll your eyes at him to hide the beat your heart just skipped. 

You both walk down the stairs, taking out your phones to use as a flashlight since it’s so dark. Cal pushes open the big door to the main hallway, and you’re hit with the typical smell of a basement; it’s humid and a little musky, but not necessarily unpleasant. You take a look around, and it’s a mirror of the floor above. The doors to the offices are open though, one is even missing the door completely, and Cal walks in without hesitation, so you follow him. 

You’re not normally one to get scared about things like these, especially knowing that the haunted story has probably started as a rumour that got way out of hand throughout the years. This section probably just got closed off because of a water leak or something. 

“One of the guys on the team told me that there used to be meetings of a secret cult down here.”

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” you laugh, and you point your light to him to see him. He blocks the light from his eyes with his hand but you can see the goofy smile on his face. 

“I can’t believe I followed you down here,” you say, taking a step towards him, but something behind him catches your attention. You direct your light to the wall, and he turns around to do the same. There’s a pinboard full of old notes and photographs. Looking at the small table underneath it, you can see a lot of the things that once hung on the wall have since fallen down, decaying. Inspecting the remaining notes on the pinboard though, you notice that there are many that seem newer, the papers are clearer, crisp, untouched by the humidity down here. Many of them are simply just letters and numbers, like… initials and dates? You’re about to take a closer look at what’s written on them when a reflection from the table catches your eye.

Directing your light down onto the table, you move away some scattered papers to reveal the object that was partially hidden beneath: a locket in the shape of a heart. You stretch out your hand to pick it up but Cal stops you.

“Maybe- maybe don’t touch that.”

“Why not?” you ask without looking up. You can faintly make out the engraved letters “P&A” on the metallic surface.  

“It could have lead. Or something.”

“That’s… a good point, actually,” you agree, and you retrieve your hand, your nose crinkling slightly in disgust at what could be lying around. “It’s the first time you’ve made sense since we got here. Who knows what else is here. Actually, we should leave–” You turn to where Cal was standing earlier, a couple of steps away, but you find him standing right in front of you now, caging you in between himself and the table behind you. He’s still holding his phone with the light aiming up, so his face is contoured in sharp white, highlighting the scars across his face. You had noticed them before, and thought they added character to his face. But now, with his eyes gazing into yours like that, momentarily flickering down to your lips and back up, you feel the urge to reach out and trace over them.

The air has completely shifted between you two, and your heartbeat quickens at the realisation. His free hand has somehow found its way around your wrist, and he’s leaning in closer ever so slowly.

You open your mouth to say something but you’re cut short by a sudden thud. You both flinch in surprise, aiming your lights to where the sound came from. You see a book, now on the floor, that hadn’t been there before, and a small cloud of dust settling around it. Aiming the light a little to the side and up, you can clearly see the spot where it fell out of the shelf, as there’s no dust on the wooden surface. 

“We should– I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” you say after clearing your throat.

“Right.”

You quickly step around Cal and head for the staircase, swiftly walking up the steps and, after momentarily listening for any bypassers, climb over the chain. Cal follows closely, and you both pocket away your phones. You’re reaching out your hand to open the heavy door that leads back into the building, when he quickly grabs your wrist, holding your shoulder with his other hand to pull you away from the thin vertical window next to the door.

“Wait, there’s someone out there.”

“So what, we could have come from upstairs,” you say, trying to ignore the way your skin tingles where he’s holding you again.

He peeks through the glass, his eyes going wide for a moment, then stepping away again, a silly smile playing on his lips.

“It’s Kenobi. And he's not alone.”

You dare take a peek through the glass, and catch a quick look at Kenobi and the man from earlier, both coming out of one of the offices with slightly dishevelled hair. 

“If he sees us, we’re so dead,” you say under your breath and lean back away, out of view. On one hand, you’d definitely be in trouble because from the short time you’ve known him, Professor Kenobi seems like the type of person to be really good at reading others, so he’d definitely know you two were up to no good if he confronted you two, especially you; you’re not a good liar. But also he saw Cal waiting for you after class, so surely he’d think something was going on between you two. Then again, would that bother you? Is there something going on between you and Cal? Do you want there to be something? You’re not entirely ready yet to answer that for yourself, especially not right now after what happened earlier, whatever that was. He was totally going to kiss you, right? In a basement of all places?

“The coast is clear,” Cal finally says, and your reeling mind can come to a halt again. He looks down at where his hand is still holding onto you, and quickly lets go, taking a step back, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. Uh, after you.”

He holds the door open for you, and you walk through, dusting off your clothes of anything that may trace you back to the forbidden underground. Cal makes his way to the office he saw Kenobi come out of and inspects the sign, chuckling to himself.

“Ah, look at that,” he says, and you approach, seeing the name on the sign: ‘Cody Kenobi’. So the man earlier was his husband. 

“Get it prof, I guess,” you mutter more to yourself than to him, but Cal snorts at your comment.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he says, and you two make your way back to where you initially came from. 

Since Cal still has to get food, you part ways and he heads to the cafeteria. And just like that, you’re back at the vending machine, yet again plagued by the decision of what to get, as well as a million questions racing through your mind.

When your shift at the library ends that day, it’s already the late afternoon. It was pretty slow today again, you mainly just spent your time cataloging some new books and putting back returned ones to their respective spots.

As you’re approaching the bus stop, you can see the bus already there, so you fall into a light jog to catch up on time. Except that everyone is standing outside instead of being inside the bus. The driver is standing on the sidewalk as well, talking on the phone in an irritated tone.

“What happened?” you ask one of the people sitting on the bench.

“The bus broke down,” she explains with a tired sigh, pointing to where the engine door has been lifted, and you can see some faint smoke coming out of the vents. “The driver said we have to wait for the next bus.”

You don’t need to look at the timetable to know that at this time of day, the busses get more and more infrequent. You might as well walk home. It won’t necessarily be quicker than waiting for the next one, but you don’t want to just sit still for the next half hour. 

After saying your thanks to the person, you keep walking down the sidewalk to start your trek home. Luckily, there’s a pedestrian path away from the street that is actually quite picturesque to walk, partially going through the woods too, so at least you’ll have a nice view as you ruminate over the day’s events.

To get to the path leading into the forest, you take a shortcut through the parking lot, which to your surprise is not as empty as you would have imagined at this time. You’re not really planning on running into anyone, already lost in thought, so it takes you very much by suprise when you hear your name called out. You turn around to see Cal standing by his bike, waving to you. You wave back with a smile, which is quick to disappear though as you remember your interaction earlier. You just want to get home to crawl into your bed and wallow in self-pity for a bit, but the redhead calls you to him.

“I saw the bus broke down,” he says as you get closer, zipping up his leather jacket and tucking his helmet under his arm. “Need a ride home?”

No, you think, being near you is short circuiting my brain and I need to sort that out.

“I’ve never been on a bike before, though,” comes out of your mouth instead. 

“Well, lucky for you I’d be the one driving,” he says with a smile. “As a backpack you just have to lean into the curves, but there’s not much more than that.”

“Backpack?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s what we call the person sitting behind the driver.” You spot the faintest of blushes creeping onto his face, adorning his freckles. “So, what do you say?”

His face, full of expectation, leaning into childish glee almost, is impossible to resist. Heaving a sigh, you laugh a bit to yourself, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“You know what. Why not. We already went to a haunted room today, might as well get ‘riding on a motorbike’ off my bucket list today, too.”

“Great!” Cal’s face lights up at your positive response, and he seems to notice it and clears his throat to take his excitement down a notch. He moves to the side a bit so you can take a better look at the bike, telling you its name is BD-1, and doing the whole introduction thing where he points to you, then to the bike and back, saying your name, BD, BD, your name. You have to bite back a smile at how endearing you find that. After what happened today, it’s nice to see that he also has this cute side to him. Playing along, you greet the bike with a ‘Hi BD!’ and pat the handlebar as if it was a dog. Cal chuckles, and produces a second helmet seemingly out of thin air, presenting it to you.

“Wha– Where did you–”

“A biker never reveals his secrets,” he says with a wink, and puts on his own helmet. Your grips tightens lightly on the one you’re now holding as you avert your gaze from his visor. This guy will absolutely be the end of you.

Cal helps you put on the helmet, adjusting the buckle strap underneath your chin and making sure it’s comfortable but not too loose. Turning to the bike, he folds down some pegs on either side of the back wheel, indicating that that’s where you’re going to put your feet, then he gets on first.

“Once you’re on, you can either hold onto me or place your hands here–,” he shows you, patting the round, elevated part of the bike in front of him. “– on the tank.” 

Then he instructs you to hop on by placing one foot first to lift yourself off the ground and swing your other leg over. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you do just that, tightening the straps on your own backpack (pun unintended) so it doesn’t move around once you’ll be on the move. You scoot in your seat a couple of times until you feel your balance settle.

“You good?” he asks, and you realise you’ll surely have a hard time hearing him once you’re driving, over the sound of the engine and the wind.

“Yup!” you reply, taking a shuddering breath that seems to resonate within your helmet, as you snake your arms around his waist, interlocking your fingers.

You feel his torso tense up ever so slightly at the touch, and he kicks up the stand. 

“If I pat your leg it means to hold on tighter, okay?”

“Got it,” you confirm, and he tests it out by patting the outside of your knee twice, and you lean even more into him, if that’s possible, tightening your grip. You just hear him chuckle, then start the engine. 

He makes a round or two on the parking lot so you can get used to the feeling, and once you feel more comfortable, he heads out onto the street.

As you’ve already mentioned at some point that you live at the dorms, he knows where to take you. You can tell he’s riding extra carefully, not zooming through in-between cars and making sure that the stops and starts at the traffic lights are smooth.

Because of the noise and the helmets, having a conversation is unfortunately impossible, so you just enjoy the sensations. The whistle of the wind rushing by you, the humming of the engine, which you can feel in your whole body, both through the bike itself and Cal. The way he taps your leg when you loosen your grip without noticing. At least it was on accident the first time. After some minutes you tried it again, slowly letting go, and his gloved hand was on your leg again, lingering this time until you held on properly. Then he placed his hand over both of yours, giving a light squeeze. Ah, did he catch on? 

Alas, the ride is already over by the time you feel like you really mastered being a proper backpack, and the bike slows down as Cal drives into the street of your apartment complex. 

Once he fully stops and kicks down the stand, he gives your arms a pat, indiciating for you to hop off. Misjudging the height and being slightly sore from the unfamiliar seating position, you don’t properly step onto the ground, your knee giving in and the rest of your body threatening to follow. But Cal is quick to catch you and bring you back to your feet without even having gotten off completely himself.

“You alright?” he asks, sliding off the seat completely, then taking off his helmet and running his hand through his hair. His red fiery hair, now messed up from the helmet… You really want to run your own fingers through it. 

At your lack of response, he leans a bit closer into your visor, repeating the question. You snap out of your trance with a sheepish laugh, trying and failing to undo the buckle on the helmet strap. Cal takes off his gloves and skillfully opens it, helping you remove the thing. You don’t even want to know what your hair looks like right now, so you try your best to smooth it out blindly. 

“I’m good, yes. Guess getting on is easier than getting off the bike.”

“It gets easier with practice,” he responds. “That is, if you ever want to ride again. You can. I mean with me. If you’d like.”

He looks around, the driveway is luckily empty, so no one can see him embarrass himself by stumbling over his own words. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you; he’s too cute.

“I’d love to, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course. You did good today.”

You look in the direction of your dorm, then down at the helmet you’re still holding.

“Guess you need this back, then.”

“I don’t have any way to carry it right now, so why don’t you hold onto that for now,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back a bit to half sit on the side of the bike. “Besides, the bus might break down again. Why don’t I give you a ride to class tomorrow morning, too?”

By now your heartrate is absolutely out of control. How does he look so effortlessly cool? And he’s inviting you to ride again? Maybe more than once? 

You involuntarily hug the helmet to your chest, hoping the sound of your erratic hearbeat doesn’t echo through it and make it loud enough for Cal to hear. Taking out his phone, he suggests exchanging numbers so you can text him when to pick you up and he can tell you when he’s on his way. Taking it from his hands, you type in your number and call, hearing your own ringtone coming from your pocket, and give it back. You don’t see what he types in as your contact name as he’s quick about it, putting the device away again.

“See you tomorrow, then,” you say, swaying back and forth lightly on the ball of your feet. “Thank you for taking me home. It was fun.”

“My pleasure,” he says with a genuine smile. “And don’t forget your substantial dinner.”

With that, he puts on his helmet. As he gets onto the bike and kicks back the stand, you consider running up to him one last time to place a kiss on his helmet, but you find yourself paralysed by… what exactly, you don’t know.

“Drive safe!” you call out to him instead with a wave, as he drives onto the street. He gives you a two finger salute, tires screeching on the pavement as he takes off. Yeah, he was definitely being considerate of you when you were on the bike. 

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud and being pulled down by a gravity tenfold as strong, all at the same time. You’re clearly into him. It seems he’s interested as well. What’s holding you back? These and many other questions roam your brain as you try to fall asleep that night.

The next morning, as promised, Cal is waiting for you. This time he brings a proper biker jacket as well, which is padded in the important places. Where he got it from and how he knows your size, you don’t even bother asking, knowing he wouldn’t tell.

Despite the buses working just fine, form that day on it becomes somewhat of a routine. Whenever your schedules will allow it, he’ll take you to class and back home. You offer paying for gas since going by your place is out of his way, even though he insists it isn’t. He never takes you up on your offer.

Weeks go by in the blink of an eye, both of you getting more comfortable around each other, engaging in friendly banter bordering in flirtations, but never really crossing the line or making an actual move. Before you know it, exams are just around the corner, so the library is busy. Still, you manage to study in the slower hours. But you keep catching yourself looking at the entrance, waiting for a certain someone to walk in. 

After exams are over, Sabine and Ezra organise a well deserved party at her place. Her family is away for the weekend, but they were okay with a party as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. Ahsoka also invites a handful of her friends so there’s a decent amount of people of different ages. You have friendly chats with many of them, who also give you good tips on studying,  the best places to get coffee near uni, or tell you funny stories about the teachers. 

The party is where you meet Anakin and Padme, Ahsoka’s best friends aside from Rex, who are more or less the power couple at the university. They’ve been together since the first year and everyone knows about them. Even you have heard a lot about them; there are some wild rumours around. But you’re seeing them for the first time now, and you can’t shake the feeling that they look familiar. 

As you, Sabine, Ahsoka and the two are standing in the kitchen, sipping on your drinks, the conversation somehow flows into urban legend territory. That’s where Padme tells you and Sabine about the lovebird legend, saying that there is an off-limits room in the uni building where it is said that a couple died tragically as the ceiling came down on them. 

“Despite the tragedy, the legends still make people go down there to leave their pictures and love notes,” Padme explains. 

“Alleged tragedy,” Anakin interjects with a playful roll of his eyes. “If something had actually happened down there, they would close it off properly.” He turns to you as he sees your blank expression, which he interprets as being scared, and gives you a reassuring pat on the back. “Nothing happened down there, trust me.”

Except that your face went blank not out of fear, but because you finally connected the dots.

“Yeah, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Padme reminisces, linking her arm onto Anakin’s, who looks down at her with an adoring smile. “Even we went down to leave our own note, remember? And it seems it worked.”

“How could I forget,” Anakin laughs. “Initials, picture, locket; we did the whole package.”

The locket you saw that day in the basement comes to your mind. The engraved initials: P & A. 

Padme and Anakin.

And now you can also vaguely recognise their younger selves in one of the pictures you see on the wall.

Snapping back into reality, you look at Anakin.

“Is this… common knowledge?” you ask, fidgeting with the drink in your hands. “Does everyone know that’s what it is? Or are there some people who think it’s haunted?”

“Not really?” Anakin shrugs. “I don’t know of anyone who’s ever thought it was actually haunted. Again, the accident is just a rumour to make it more tragic.”

“Yeah, everyone who hears about the story knows people go there hoping to ensure a good love life,” Padme confirms.

“Huh, is that so…” you trail off, heat quickly rising to your face, visible to everyone no doubt, but you can’t be bothered to hide it right now. So Cal knew? He must have known, right? 

Sabine elbows you into the side, almost making you spill your drink. 

“What’s got you so flustered suddenly?�� She narrows her eyes at you, full of mischief. “Don’t tell me, you want to go leave a note for you and you know who?”

That seems to get you out of your trance, and your head snaps back up, frantically looking around to make sure Cal isn’t anywhere near you two. But he’s actually nowhere to be seen, probably outside with his team buddies who are hogging the grill.

“Do you still need to leave a note when you’ve already been there with the person in question?” you ask at no one in particular, and Ahsoka exchanges a knowing look with Anakin and Padme.

“You what?!” Sabine whisper-screams. “How? When?”

“Uuh, a couple of weeks ago,” you say, suddenly remembering the other thing you saw that day. “Also, did you know Kenobi is married? And that his husband is part of the psychology department? They totally made out in the husband’s office.”

Sabine’s face morphs into several different things consecutively, first confusion at why you’re bringing that up now, then questioning why you even know that, then wondering if she even wants to know. 

“You know,” Padme interjects. “Obi-Wan and Cody Kenobi were actually one of the first ever couples to leave their note in the basement. If they’re still together, then it really must work, huh.” She leans in ever so slightly, lowering her voice as she asks you, “Why, is there anyone you’re interested in? Someone who wouldn’t happen to be here right now?”

You pull a bit of a grimace and look to Ahsoka, who had followed the whole thing with amusement but without intervening. Seeing your pleading look, she nods, indicating that Padme is trustworthy with these kind of things. 

“Yes, actually,” you reply in a small voice. “To both.”

Padme clasps her hands together in delight, asking if you’ll show her the person in question. Anakin just laughs, saying he’ll go find something to eat, and Ahsoka joins him. So it’s just you, Padme and Sabine left. You walk around for a while until you find your favourite redhead leaning on the open doorframe that leads to the yard, talking to one of his teammates. They’re all wearing their team jackets, and you can’t help your eyes roaming his body for a moment, enjoying the view. 

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he suddenly turns his head to you, and you get caught yet again staring. But this time you don’t look away in shame, you stand your ground and give him a smile and a small wave, which he returns, then goes back to his conversation as if nothing happened.

You turn back to the girls, both of them giving you a knowing smile and little giggles. 

“Oh, shut up, you.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Sabine says. 

“Your face said it all.”

“Yeah, as did yours,” she teases. 

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You might as well be on actual fire right now, as hot as you feel. 

“I’m getting another drink,” you say, pinching Sabine in the cheek and looking to Padme. “Please make sure she doesn’t embarrass me any further.”

Padme laughs but agrees, promising to keep an eye on her.

You walk to the kitchen, where a new group of people has claimed the space to have their conversation. You quickly refill your cup, excusing yourself from them with a polite nod, and leave through the other door, looking for a way outside to get some fresh air. But you find yourself in what seems to be the dining room. This house is so big, I think I might actually get lost here, you think, looking around for another exit. 

You turn on your heels when a guy, evidently drunk, approaches you. Givng him a quick once over, you find that you don’t recognise him. While this was a closed invitation party, unfortunately there’s always the few people who think it’s okay to just bring another buddy along who also brings their friend, leading to a handful of people that no one really invited or even knows. This is one of them. 

You intend to walk past him, but he takes a side step to block your path. Taking a quick step back to have some distance between you and him, you try the other side, but again he cuts you off.

“Can you let me through?”

“What are you doing here all alone?” His words are slurred, and he suddenly grabs onto your wrist with a strong grip.

“Wha–? Let me go!” The back and forth until you finally manage to get your arm free makes you spill your drink onto the floor.

He seems unfazed by this, grunting in annoyance and trying to grab you again, but you evade his movements this time, taking several steps back.

“I said back off! Leave me alone!”

Now he has you cornered against the wall, and you consider your options. He stretches out his hand again to take ahold of you, but before he reaches you, Cal has appeared through another archway to your right and grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him away from you. Two of his football buddies follow.

“Which part of ‘back off’ do you not understand?” he growls at the guy, letting him go with a shove. “Get lost.”

“And who do you think you are? You’re interrupting–” the guy starts, grabbing Cal by the shoulder and turning him around, but before he can even finish his sentence, Cal clocks him in the jaw, and the guy falls to the ground ungracefully, landing in your puddle from earlier with a grunt. The two other guys that arrived with Cal grab him, one arm each, and carry him away, probably outside to kick him out. 

Cal turns to you, shaking the hand he hit the other guy with. 

“Are you okay?” he asks as he approaches you, wanting to hold your arms, but his hands only hover over you as he looks you over for any injuries. 

“I’m– I’m okay. Thank you,” you croak out, blinking repeatedly to process what just happened. Cal gingerly holds your wrist up, inspecting it. You can already see some dark marks forming where the guy before had grabbed you. Cal’s thumb strokes over the inside of your wrist soothingly, his eyes finding yours, and you’re unable to look away. He’s about to say something when voices call out to you. He turns around to see Sabine, Ahsoka and Ezra approaching.

“Are you okay? What happened?” she asks, seeing the puddle on the ground just in time and walking around it.

“Some guy was really drunk, he grabbed my arm and–”

“And I punched him,” Cal finishes.

Sabine raises a brow at that, giving you a look.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Ezra apologises. “I told everyone to not just show up with random people. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Ezra, it’s okay. Really guys, I’m fine.” You swallow down whatever is trying to bubble up, be it a nervous breakdown after a scary situation or just the fact that Cal saved your bacon. Shoving it all into the back of your brain to deal with later, you smile at your friends. “The jerk is dealt with, it’s all good, really. Now let’s go back to enjoying the party. I heard you have a karaoke machine?”

“Yeah,” Sabine says and gives you a questioning look. ‘You sure you're okay?’ At the insistence in your own eyes, she nods. “Okay then, let’s go sing our lungs out. C’mon, guys.”

Ezra apologises again before following Sabine. Ahsoka asks you if you’re sure you’re good, you insist that yes everything is fine, so she leaves as well.

You look to Cal with a grateful smile, about to head out as well, but he stops you.

“Uhm, actually, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says, again scratching his neck in that adorably shy manner, and your breath might or might not have hitched there. “Next week we have a big game against another school team. Do you want to come? And possibly cheer for us?”

“I was wondering if I could ever go to one of your games,” you reply sincerely, smiling up at him. “I’ll cheer for you.”

“For my team or for me specifically?” he remarks with an inquisitive grin, but to your relief, the music from the living room hits your ears before you can even come up with a smooth reply.

“Oh, that’s my jam, c’mon!” You hook your arm around Cal’s and drag him to where everyone’s waiting, both of you laughing. 

— — — — —

The match is intense. You don’t really know all the rules, but you can feel the tension in the air.  

You cheer for Cal from where you sit on the bleachers with Sabine, Ezra and everyone else, all of you shouting and cheering. You haven’t even entirely recovered from the karaoke session, so this surely isn’t helping your vocal chords, but you don’t care. 

Every now and then he looks up from where he is on the field, searching for you in the crowd. He pats the outside of his knee twice when he does, and every time you can feel the rush of heat and giddiness crashing over you. It’s the same gesture he does when you’re on his bike. It’s like a secret signal between the two of you. You don’t care about biting back the giant smile on your face or trying to hide how flustered you look every time he spots you among the audience, and Sabine catches on.

The timer on the giant screen counts down the last seconds of the match, both teams are tied. Cal goes into the offensive, and they make one heck of a play, scoring the last point just before the timer buzzes. Everyone in the audience stands up cheering, clapping, whistling. You as well.

As the announcer wraps up the game and the players leave for the changing rooms, Sabine and you head down to the entrance. Many are already leaving, since the match is over, but friends and family of the players are waiting for them to come out to celebrate.

Sabine and Ezra exchange curious looks with each other, and Sabine elbows you into the side.

“So?” Ezra asks. 

“So what? “ you retort. 

“Are you gonna make a move?” Sabine chimes in. 

“On Cal?”

“Who else!"

“I don’t know…” you respond, unsure. “I don’t want to read too much into it–”

“Ohmygod,” Ezra groans as he shakes you by the shoulders. “You’re both so smitten with each other, it’s starting to be unbearable to watch.

You laugh nervously. Does he really think that? 

“Guys! Here they come,” Sabine interrupts you two as she spots the winning team.

Ezra lets go of you after one last shake, and you all turn to face the players, now showered and changed back into their normal clothes. 

Cal’s eyes roam the space until they find yours, and you think you might go blind by his smile. He’s positively glowing. You’re just expecting to maybe hug him, congratulate him on the win, and then you’ll all go get food together as you’ve planned.

Instead, Cal doesn’t slow down as he approaches you, throwing his arms around your torso and lifting you into the air, spinning you around a couple of times. You hold on to him with a squeak of surprise, and he laughs so heartily, you’re actually glad he’s holding you in the air, because your legs surely would have given out.

Once gently placed back onto the ground, you just kind of look at each other, until Ezra loudly clears his throat, and Cal quickly lets go of you. After you guys say your congratulations to Cal and the rest of his team, you head out to the restaurant. It’s nearby so you decide to walk, the weather is nice even though it's the evening.

The rest of the night, you and Cal seem to tiptoe around each other, like there’s suddenly an invisible line that has been drawn, and you’re both waiting for the other to cross over first. You exchange smiles, glances, accidental touches followed by apologies.

Once the food is gone and the adrenaline starts depleting, it’s time to head home. Cal offers to walk you home, since you’re still relatively close to the dorms. Anakin drove to the game, so he takes the rest back with him in his car.

After you say your goodbyes to the group, not without getting some definitely non-inconspicuous looks from your two besties, it dawns on you that once you’re home, Cal will be stranded there. You bring it up to him, and for a minute you actually consider offering for him to stay the night, but you’re actually not mentally or emotionally prepared for that. So you’re glad when he says he doesn’t mind, he’ll just get a cab or something when he's there, since he got a ride with his coach to the game today and didn’t ride his bike. 

You’re walking down the street in comfortable silence, surrounded by the darkness that's already taken over the sky. You look up expecting to see stars, but you’re disappointed to see clouds. In fact, dark, low hanging clouds, threatening to spill over any moment. 

“Huh, when did it get this stormy,” you wonder aloud, and as if on cue, a gust of wind picks up, sending some leaves and debris flying over the street.

“I’m pretty sure there was no rain announced today–” 

The moment Cal says that, it comes pouring down all at once. 

“What the–! Argh!” you groan in frustration at the sudden downpour, but Cal just laughs, taking your hand as he pulls you away.

“Come on!”

You let yourself be led to take shelter under an awning. You look down at yourself, already soaked even though you were exposed for mere seconds. The sound of rain hitting the ground drowns everything else. You look out with a pout, knowing you’ll have to wait out the weather to get anywhere. 

Suddenly you feel a weight on your shoulders. You look to the side to see Cal placing his varsity jacket on you, and you’d be lying if you weren’t welcoming the warmth. Given that today was supposed to be a clear night, you didn’t really have that many layers, so you gladly slide your arms into the sleeves, hugging yourself. 

Instead of letting go completely of the jacket though, Cal keeps readjusting the collar, tugging on one side so that you turn until you’re fully facing him. A droplet of water falls from his hair onto his cheek. You uncross your arms, slowly bringing your hands up to his forearms, shyly holding onto them. 

“Can i kiss you?” he asks without looking away. And you couldn’t have even if you wanted to, it’s like his ocean eyes held yours in a tight embrace, unable to move. You don’t answer immediately, despite every fiber in your body screaming yes!

“I’m scared,” you finally say in a small voice, almost getting drowned out by the raging rain. Cal’s head backtracks a bit in surprise. 

“What of?” 

“It’s silly,” you pout again, this time looking away, but his hand finds your cheek, bringing your gaze back to him.

“You can tell me,” he assures you. You let out a sharp breath of frustration at yourself. 

“I’ve just… never felt like this before,” you admit. “I'm scared of how much of an effect you have over me, I suppose, and as such making a fool of myself. I want you to like me, so badly.”

Cal tilts his head slightly to the side, offering a warm reassuring smile.

“I can assure you, I feel the same way about you.”

“I don't believe you,” you retort with a scoff. “You always look so collected and confident and just generally cool.”

“On the outside, maybe. But trust me, I'm freaking out on the inside. Check for yourself.”

He takes your hand and places it on his chest, leaving his hand on yours. His heart is beating at a quick pace. The moment you look up again and meet his eyes, the pace picks up. In the faint light you can see a blush spreading on his face, heart pounding against his ribcage, with yours to match.

“Same here,” you say.

“I know,” he replies with a bit of mischief, his other hand on your cheek moving down a bit to your neck, where you now know he can feel your pulse. 

You know he’s still waiting for your answer, but you decide to tease him. Just a bit. Besides, this question has been burning on your tongue for what feels like an eternity now.

“When we went down to the basement, you knew it wasn’t haunted, right?” you ask, and he has to adjust to the sudden change of topic, looking surprised at first, then laughing heartily. You continue, “You knew it was a thing that couples do?” 

“Ah, you got me,” he replies with a light shrug. 

“Did you plan the whole thing out from the start?”

“Actually, no.” He looks away for a moment with a faint smile, thinking back to that day, then meets your eyes again. “I did want to go there with you but didn’t know how to ask. Then I saw you at the vending machine, and the whole thing with Kenobi happened, and it was just too good of an opportunity to pass.”

“I can’t believe I got played like that,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know, had you told me back then that you liked me, I would have gone willingly to the basement to leave a note.”

“Guess I was scared, too.”

“That’s fair,” you say, your hands coming up to his face to hold it properly now. You smooth your thumb over his cheekbone, and he leans into your touch. “Well, now that that’s sorted out: yes, yes you can.”

Cal leans in, catching your lips in his, and he holds you so tenderly, you might as well melt down and get swept away by the rain. Your whole body burns, and you grab a fistful of his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer. His hands travel down your arms to snake around your waist between his jacket and your damp shirt, holding you up as you involuntarily put more of your weight on him, the legs under you threatening to give in completely. 

He breaks the kiss and pulls back only enough to pepper your whole face in little kisses, making you giggle.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he remarks, trailing kisses down your jaw, then coming back up to place one last kiss on your lips, which you chase after as he pulls back again, and he chuckles.

“We should get going,” he says, taking your hands in his. “The rain stopped, we should get you home before you catch a cold.”

“Right,” you mumble, still trying to come down from the high of that kiss.  

You start walking down the street hand in hand, and you swing them back and forth between the two of you. You’re almost at your place when he gets a call. Taking his phone out, he picks up and puts it on speaker; it’s Anakin. He asks if Cal needs a ride because of the sudden rain.

“You’re asking now?” Cal laughs. “Well, you sure took your time.”

“I assumed you were… occupied.”

Your face burns up yet again, tips of your ears on fire, as Cal shoots you a funny look.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he says into the phone.

“Oh my god–!” you squeak, hiding your face in your hands as you hear Padme’s cheering in the background. “But yes, please come pick him up. Or he might get sick. We’re both soaking wet.”

Cal holds back a laugh, and you grab onto his wrist to bring the phone closer to you.

“From the rain! Soaked from the rain!” you say firmly into the phone. “Geez...!”

After some more snickers, Anakin and Cal coordinate where he should pick him up. It’s just a street over from your dorm, so you have to part ways there.

“Let’s go somewhere this weekend,” Cal suggests as you’re hugging him goodbye.

“Like where?”

“I’ll show you one of my favourite spots. How about that? Bring your helmet.” 

“Ooh, roadtrip with BD. I’m in,” you agree.

Cal leans in to leave a lingering kiss on your cheek, but before he can pull back completely, you sneak in a peck on the corner of his mouth. Even in the darknes, the streelight the only source of illumination, you can see the furious blush on his face. If it were up to you, you’d kiss him until the sun comes back up, but the both of you really need to take a warm shower and get to bed. 

“It’s a date then,” Cal says with a wink and takes a couple of steps back, waving at you, then turning fully to walk towards the pick-up spot. 

“Yeah, a date…” you whisper to yourself dreamily.

— — — — —

True to his word, Cal takes you to his favourite place. You packed some food and drinks for the road, then headed out. By now you’re far more comfortable on the bike, so you can actually enjoy the view as well. The farther away you get from the city, the more you’re surrounded by forests, farms and you even cross a lake. Starting to gain elevation as he drives up the meandering narrow street, you arrive at a vantage point of sorts. There’s a small parking lot by the road, with a public restroom and some picnic tables. You two get off the bike, walking to the fence which feels to be right at the edge of the cliff, showing a fantastic view into a giant valley.

Your date takes its course; you eat, you chat, you even remembered to pack some cards so you play a couple of rounds on the table. 

When it’s time to head back, you’re packing your things, both of you standing by the bike.

“So, how’d you like it?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful,” you reply, letting your eyes roam over the landscape once more. You arrived here in the early afternoon, and now the sun is just about to set. 

“Anything else you’d like to do before we head back?” 

You think it over. You already ate, took some pictures, enjoyed the view. There’s really not much else to do here. But then a thought occurs to you.

“I, uhm…” For some reason you get shy with your request. “Is there any way we can sit on the bike facing each other? Not to drive, just to chill here a little longer. I’d like to see the full sunset.”

His brows rise in surprise, the slight blush on his cheeks not escaping you, and you wonder what it was about what you’re asking that caused it. 

“Sure. Here–”

He grabs you from underneath your arms, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you like you weigh nothing, and swings one of his legs over the bike to take a seat like he normally would, placing you onto the tank. You unwrap your legs so that they’re hanging over his things, and that’s when you realise you just asked for you to straddle him. Not that you’re opposed to the result. 

You try finding your seat on the round tank, but you slip down further into his lap, now fully sitting on him. 

“Whoah, sorry,” you try to scoot back up but you’re essentially stuck. “Is this okay? Should I move back?”

“Don’t worry,” he says, looking to the side for a moment as he holds you by your waist, trying to hold you still, and he clears his throat nervously. “This is every biker’s dream, believe me. Are you comfortable?”

You hum in positive response, trying to accommodate to the position in his lap by squirming a little, and his grip on you tightens again. You hear him take a sharp breath though his teeth. 

“Ah, sorry…” you say as you realise what you’re doing. You place your hands on his chest, trying to hold still. For a moment you just sit there, looking at each other in silence, both of you starting to relax into each others’ holds. 

Then a gust of wind picks up, ruffling up his hair. Golden hour hits him just right, the fiery red strands on his head shine gold and copper in the sunlight, his hundreds of freckles seem to glisten on his skin, begging for you to trace over them with your fingers, his ocean eyes now have a hint of green and specks of gold in them, darting up and down as he studies your face as well. Your heart all but bursts at the sight.

“What?” he asks after a while, chuckling. 

“You're breathtaking,” you blurt out in full honesty, holding his face, wondering how it was possible for such a beautiful human being to exist? And he chose to be with you?

Your answer definitely takes him off-guard, as his face blushes violently, from his neck to the tip of his ears. He can’t hold your gaze, looking to the side. It takes a couple of attempts to form a proper sentence.

“You can’t say that with such a straight face, damn,” he laughs nervously. He leans his forehead on your shoulder in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, but you cup his face and bring him back up to look at you.

“Besides,” he adds after a moment, “You only say that because you haven’t seen yourself. If you think that of me, then you’re nothing short of ethereal.”

So much for watching the sunset. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and his words pierce your very heart, but in a good way. Not really knowing what to reply to that, you kiss him instead, burying your fingers in his hair. 

Cal reciprocates just as intensely, and you can’t help but arch your back into him, thus rolling your hips into his, to which he groans. Your brain is instantly turned to mush, your body now in charge. He tilts his head to the side, his tongue tracing over your lips, and you gasp as you grant him access. Right now, Cal tastes like honey and cool mornings and the pine trees surrounding you. Your senses are on overload, your skin burns as Cal’s hands slip underneath your shirt, slowly travelling up your back, pressing you into him even more.

Finally breaking for air, Cal kisses your jaw, your neck, biting where your pulse is, and if you could still hear yourself, you’d probably be embarrassed about the noises you’re making. 

Then he pulls back rather suddenly, you notice his jaw is tense but you notice his dishevelled hair more, as well as his puffy lips, and the dazed look in his eyes which you’re surely sporting yourself too. You’re both panting, trying to calm your breathing. His hands slide back down and out of your shirt, staying on your thighs instead. 

“Maybe,” Cal says between breaths, “Maybe we should take this somewhere… else.” 

You run your hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out. 

“I think Ahsoka is out for the rest of the night,” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

He raises a brow at you. You give him an innocent smile. 

“Let’s head back then,” he says, picking you up again like before, this time to get you off the bike. 

You finish packing up everything, hop on and start your way back to the dorms. All the while, his hand is either on yours or on your leg, lovingly stroking the side of your thigh. 

His biker gear really does suit him and you like how he looks in it, but for once, you can’t wait for him to take it off.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane , @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket, @wildefire, @ghostkestis, @reckoning-star, @wyvernthekriger

[marshmallowprotection]

What if I gifted Ray some Valentine's chocolates. And maybe even. Hand fed them to him. And then gave him a kiss. What then 🤨

Ray never expected to receive a treat for Valentine's Day. After all, from what he'd heard about the holiday, it was a day for princes to give their significant others something special. He always imagined that he would be able to make his princess, prince, or whoever he met that made his heart flurry—a marvelous treat that would in no uncertain terms prove how much he loved them.

He wanted to be the person who made someone else feel special on the most romantic holiday of the year, but you turned that concept... upside down. He never thought he would be the one being swept off his feet in a heartbeat. Sure, there were princes out there who would know the day to be theirs forevermore, but he never considered that he could be one of them. How could he?

He was a giver, one who would always work to make sure his place in the world was cemented because he had something to give, but you had attempted to prove to him that he didn't have to do anything to... to be worthy of that.

It didn't make sense.

At least, not in the context of Paradise. He was supposed to fight for as long and as hard as he could to be even a fraction of what he was supposed to be. He could easily be thrown away, but the Savior had promised she would never abandon him... even if he was a failure in every aspect of life. He was precious enough not to be thrown away, but not precious enough to be worshiped.

And yet, your hands continued to fight against the current to show him what you knew he was worth.

Ray blinked back a couple of stray tears that dared to spill over before he could stop them. He didn't know what to say! You were standing in front of him with a small box in your hands, smiling ear to ear as soon as he realized what was inside of the box. It was an assortment of tiny chocolates. They looked nothing like the ones he consumed to avoid wasting his time on a walk to the kitchen.

They looked like they'd be created by hand. A machine would be far too perfect to forgo the soft lumps and drizzle that would come by hand. That was the charm... the character of it all. He thought he'd surprise you with a wonderful bouquet he spent all evening trying to piece together with all the right meanings in tow, but you out-shined him by a long-shot.

His heart fluttered as the hand holding onto your bouquet began to tremble. "You... you made that for me?"

"Of course, my prince. You mentioned to me before how you wished the chocolate you eat every day could be sweeter... that's why I asked if I could have a picture of what you've been eating the other day. The picture told me all I needed to know about it! You've been eating dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate. Milk chocolate isn't quite as bitter as the kind you have! The amount of cacao is super different in the manufacturing process... So, I made sure to use milk chocolate in these treats to see if you liked them more!"

Oh.

Was that the case?

He never once put much thought into the treats he received from the Savior. She was the one who brought him candy now and again, and he assumed it only tasted strange because the Elixir always clung to the back of his throat no matter how much he tried to wash it away with water and juice. He never once thought to read the label. He saw no point. He thought his Savior would give him something sweet and worthwhile. But, she hadn't.

Was that because she wanted him to grow to like the taste of bitter things?

He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to think about it as you continued to smile at him with those eyes that made him melt. You laughed at his rosy cheeks and plucked one of the chocolates from the box with a single tug. He wasn't sure what you intended to do with that, but as you leaned over, he realized you wanted to feed him one of your soft, tantalizing treats.

How could he say no?

He parted his lips and soon after, he felt sugar, cream, and chocolate coat his tongue, as well as your playful fingertip that nudged both of his agape lips closed so he could relish the flavor. Every spot you had touched felt like it was fire, but he could think of nothing but how the sweetness of your confection gave him life. It was as if you put a little piece of yourself into the treat and he could taste you.

Would you taste like that?

Would you melt on his tongue?

Ray prayed that if he ever had the chance to taste your lips, they would be as sweet as—

His wide eyes trembled as you leaned in that much closer, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth without a second thought. The kiss was both tender and sweet. He called it a kiss, but he wondered if it could be called a kiss when your lips weren't as united as he had expected them to be to match the stories he'd always read as a little boy. A kiss was when two lips blurred together, but this was... it was something different, something special.

He didn't know how else to describe it.

It was sweeter than the chocolate still slowly melting against his tongue. The bouquet fell from his hand and onto the grass below when he felt your tongue nip his cheek. He gasped at the gesture, and you took that as a chance to pull away for air. It was there in a flash and gone just as soon... just like the chocolate. A moment of love and tenderness all stored in a precious treat.

"Sorry," you whispered, long lashes fluttering over knowing eyes. "You had a bit of melted chocolate on your lips. I wanted to see if it would taste sweeter on your lips than it did on my fingers."

This was paradise.

[ihhfhonao3]

Dude. Something serious just happened.

I literally was just chilling right. Hanging out. And then fuck- I get my heart ripped out, torn to bits, run over with a bike, grinded up in a lawnmower, blended in a food processor and dumped into a cement mixer. All because of this one GUY.

(I finished good omens season 2)

(spoilers under the cut)

Okay but like NOW I UNDERSTAND why everyone has been hyper analyzing the kiss scene. Like ohhhhhh my god that scene was LOADED. Like the solid last 20 minutes I was just shouting at my tv “don’t do it!! It’s not what you want!!” And “aziraphale no!!! Don’t fall victim to heaven’s propaganda!!!” Like duuuuude. Toxic doomed yaoi when one wants one thing but the other wants another and they physically cannot have both… would you lose your freedom if it meant you could be with the one you loved… how do you fully understand the inner workings of someone who goes against the system… are you a bad person for feeding a machine that is destined to be corrupt… holy fucking shit

WAIT FUCK I THINK I UNDERSTAND THE INEFFABLE DIVORCE TAG. YALL. YALL? YALL.

[tigerlyla-of-metinna]

I'm doing a tag game!

What are your 3 historical gaming moment?

Anything related to videogames: be it achieving the highest score in the arcade, defeating that final boss after 100 tries, winning a PS5 in a raffle, getting a photo or autograph of a VA, cosplaying a videogame character... anything!

Then tag 5 people (minimum) and let's reminisce. Spread some positivity!

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Here are my 3 personal best (in no particular order)

1.Tekken 3

The first time I truly enjoyed playing a fighting game (I still hate playing PvP in fighting games cuz an actual human is way better at it than me) was when I finally approached a real Tekken pro. A big arcade opened up in my city and I was the only girl who went there every weekend and buy 30 tokens (Php 90.00) to feed the various machines. I saw this tall college dude play King and I was mesmerized watching him pull all of Kings grapples. After several months, I watched him from behind, playing Tekken 3 until I muster up the courage to ask him how he pulled off all his moves. The college dud pulled a piece of paper and pen and began to write down all of Kings' combos and grabs, and gave it to me! Since then I have practiced on every Tekken 3 machine, pulled off all Kings' impressive grapples to a growing audience who couldn't believe their eyes that this little highschool girl is playing Tekken 3 and beating it! Oh and I became good at the games that I reduced my 30 tokens to 5.

2. Resident Evil 2 (PS1)

This game came with the console my mom gave me. First time I popped the disc in and chose Leon S Kennedy on normal mode, I was piled upon by zombies and died. That game over screen traumatized me and I did not pick up RE for months! When I did gave it a second chance, I notice there was a 3rd mode: ARRANGED. It made the game ridiculously easy by giving me all the weapons, and so I plowed through Raccoon City with my machine gun and rocket launcher. It was fun until it wasn't. I decided to play the game on Normal, got eaten and died, then powered through it. Finally beat the game on Normal and Hard. Also went for the S Rank and bonus content. Now I love all horror and survival horror games (Silent Hill, Outlast, Evil Within, etc). It became my favorite genre.

3. The Witcher 3

Had it not for this game, I wouldn't have made The Nilfgaardian Collection or started digital art. I think it was December 2019 (or 16 I dunno, it was Xmas), my brother gave me two choices: TW3 or FF15. I wanted FF15 cuz I have always been a fan of Final Fantasy and TW3 was hyped to the heavens. I wanted to know if the hype was justified and so I got TW3 GOTY edition. The hype... was well deserved! I was hooked, I plat the game, I decided to make fanarts of my fave character (Emhyr) and gave myself a goal: to have the biggest collection of Emhyr and Nilfgaard pics and be known as that crazy chick with an unhealthy obsession to Emhyr and his Nilfgaardian empire. Thus cemented the Nilfgaardian Collection in the fandom!

I taggeth @bittersweetbark, @alphagravy, @rotatingremains, @regis-favorite-raven, @oblakovka, @smehur, @laurikarauchscat, @jawanaka, @traumschwinge, @valandhirwriter

[viric-dreams]

Trying to sleep whilst simultaneously letting some potential lore scenes for future writing/art run in the back of my mind produces some truly unsettling results.

Under no circumstances would Roberts be court martialed for treason. Officer Beverley seems to understand this, but his logic is entirely backwards. Framed by the glow of the fireplace, Beverley leans back against the sole chair in his spartan lodgings and explains what he’s so sure is going to happen. If Roberts does not comply he intends to go to the London admiralty, to let them in on his missing time, the new player making waves in Anarchist circles, the lies at the foundation of his very existence. He seems to think that the Dark-Spectacled Admiral has the power to land him in political scandal.

His letters will never reach the Admiral. Roberts knows this with the same certainty that he knows the Dawn Machine burns in the Southwest. Beverley’s contact is the Voracious Diplomat. He’s trying to be cagey about it, but Roberts has seen the letterhead, shoved quickly into a drawer whenever they need the space on the desk to work. And the Diplomat would never let such a tidbit go to the Admiral, not when it’s worth so much more on Grand Geode.

Roberts was there for the Luminous Plot of ‘69. In fact, he had been the one to ensure that its perpetrators would never find a way to return from the slow boat, no trial, sham or otherwise. As he and the Commodore stood against the gunwhale and watched their cement-laden bodies sink into the Zee, the Commodore turned to him.

“You wouldn’t betray me, would you, Elias?”

The expression on his face is clouded, as if already playing through and wounded by the possibility in his mind. It feels like being thrown into ice water.

“Of course not, sir!”

The very idea is appalling. Surely the Commodore doesn’t truly believe it’s in the realm of the possible—not when the very idea makes his skin prickle. He’s the Commodore’s man, through and through, dedicated to both him and the Work.

The Commodore smiles, his golden eyes suddenly kind.

“That's what I thought. You wouldn’t do such a thing,” his hand reaches out to pat his shoulder, “Not from my most loyal midshipman.”

He can’t help but flush at the praise. Hopefully, the deck’s dim lighting covers it. But it hardly matters, for the Commodore turns away, gazing into the waves where they’d thrown the traitors not minutes ago. Roberts thinks the conversation is at its end when the Commodore starts again, eyes never leaving that fixed point on the Zee’s surface.

“If you did betray me, of course, I wouldn’t kill and feed you to the dawn flukes. That would be too easy of an end. Instead, I’d weld you into our smallest zub and ship you to Anthe. Who knows,” he shrugs, “you might just even have enough supplies to make it.”

He can’t breathe, his lungs are frozen in his chest. The image is all too real—trapped in that metal coffin, hardly able to move. Through the icy panic, all he can feel is the frantic hammering of his heart and the sharp twinge of the muscle of his left thigh, where the scarred skin puckers above it. The Commodore wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Right? He has to take a breath. He needs to respond. It’s been too long. His silence might be taken for suspicious.

“There’s no need for that, I assure you.” The words come out whole, though his voice is frailer than he’d like. The Commodore is studying him now. Roberts isn’t sure whether or not he can meet his gaze, what the Commodore might see on his face. After a moment the Commodore nods.

“I didn’t think so. But you never know.” With that, his mouth slides into a grin, demeanour changing like night and day. “We’d best get back soon. There’s work to be done back on base. I’ll alert the navigator.”

Roberts sees the hand coming soon enough to not flinch when it lands on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring shake, before the Commodore is off, already descending the ladder.

He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, chasing the claustrophobic phantasm from his mind. The Commodore is right—there’s work to be done.

Truth be told, he’s not entirely paying attention to the details of Beverley’s demands. He doesn’t have to, when he already knows he’ll agree to whatever he says. It’s clear as dawnlight what he must do. The Officer seems almost surprised by how easily Roberts acquiesces, but that surprise soon turns to barely-concealed delight as the scientific possibilities unfold before him. He’s already turned away from Roberts and back to the schematics, searching for a pen to record the newest thoughts.

It’s truly a shame, Roberts thinks, hand reaching behind him for the fireplace poker, to have to lose such a promising engineer. But treachery is something that the New Sequence cannot tolerate.

Beverley doesn’t even see it coming until the instant he brings the iron poker down across his skull.

[rottenbrainstuff]

You know I’m seeing a lot of panic from artists about advancing AI capabilities…

It’s shitty for sure, not good at all, but you know, this is just really cementing in my brain that we all really need to get away from viewing art as a consumable finished product, an image containing pleasing things to look at that we view and scroll past. Artists and audience both.

I’d love to see a push for artists to share more of the thought process, more of the rational for why they made stylistic or narrative choices, to talk more about their art, to open a conversation with the audience, to think about what that conversation looks like and why. I’d love to see artists start to experiment, be more creative than just single flat digital images, I’d love to see artists experiment with sequential art, with physical mediums, with interactive formats. I’d desperately love to see artists especially get creative with style, get weird, get unusual.

And I want to see audiences challenge themselves to engage in stuff like that. Ask artists about their thoughts and their process. Ask them about alternate sketches that they made. Get to know artists’ portfolios and view their body of work as a whole. Open up the conversation, value it, see it as essential, see art as more than just pretty pictures on your feeds that you consume and scroll past. Challenge yourself to get interested in physical art! Go out and see things in galleries! Attend opening nights! You’d be surprised what’s out there, and how many galleries have no admission. Challenge yourself to consider the merits of art that looks different.

Basically… like… it’s making me do a lot of thinking, just like when I talked to a teacher about the prevalence of using AI to write papers in post secondary: it’s going to be quite hard to stop that now that the tool is so widely available and so hard to detect. Instead, maybe we need to think about what kind of work we’re making the students do, what kind of assignments, how are we grading and testing it, what is the human element that is actually important if a stupid AI can spit out a stupid paper?

I think it’s similar with art. Look, we can’t really stop it. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t also use glaze and nightshade and whatever and speak out against it… we should…. what I mean is, in addition to that, I think we really really need to start thinking about what is the human element that AI can’t reproduce? What do you bring to art that a machine can’t do? Why do we even need artists if a machine can quickly and cheaply spit out a shitty graphic? Is the only thing valuable about art that singular final aesthetically pleasing image? What else is valuable? Explore that, investigate that, promote that, ask for that, require that.

I honestly think it’s a bit exciting. It’s a shit situation but I can see the possibility for something extremely positive to come from it. AI art is shit, one of the shittiest trends I’ve seen, makes me angry and depressed. But I think we could take it and do something so exciting with it, really think about what makes art valuable and why, really shift our thinking all around. I think we need to try.

[iridescentscarecrow]

Hi. Just wanna let you know that I enjoy your aki analysis thread a lot. (Saw it first on twitter and have been anticipating it ever since you first mentioned working on it.) Especially the connection of Aki's character being so tied to the state and in that respect, Makima by extension, and how that feeds into his revenge goal + the symbolism of Ghost and Himeno in how she, through the notion of Ghost cements herself in his tragedy. An interesting side note, the Easy Revenge cigarette in the original Japanese version of the manga is further explained as 気楽に復習を which translates to "Hang loose with your revenge." (Saying "hang loose" probably sounds silly here but it's the best I can think of for this phrasing using 気楽 which means "easy-going/carefree" a literal translation would be something more like "Take your revenge in an easy-going way.")

Back on topic, the framing and dynamics addressed in your thread is also something that has been on my mind for quite some time that I haven't seen discussed as much (at least as far as I'm aware) so it's nice to know that I'm not alone in having these thoughts. I just find Aki's arcs and narrative themes very intriguing to think about (to the point where he can almost be his own de-facto main character even though his existence is meant to supplement and build Denji. It's just something in the way he views the world of CSM and how the audience views the world of CSM through HIS lens while it's evident that he's just strung along for the ride under the belief that his story is driven and motivated by his own agency unaware of how both his choices and his story are shaped by influences and machinations outside of his chosen perception. Aki's faux main character syndrome if you will. Sorry I'm rambling.) And ultimately what all those aspects reflect back on the world of CSM. There's more I'd love to talk about but this ask is already so long. Anyways, I'm usually more of a casual lurker in this fandom but I appreciate and enjoy tuning in to your analysis.

first of all, a huge apology for taking so long to respond to this. i'm so glad you liked my aki meta!! i love how fjmt intertwines the more Symbolic aspects of his world (the devils) with his narrative & i think himeno's character is an excellent version of that.

i wasn't aware of the original version of the phrase -- that's definitely interesting / will be thinking about that. some thoughts in my head already but they're very muddled i'm afraid.

and yes!! you've put it perfectly here re: the framing. aki's character (the "manga protagonist") is the pov that denji borrows from to string us along into the very shounen tropes that fjmt subverts. and aki's narrative occuring alongside denji is so tasty in this regard. "under the belief that his story is driven and motivated by his own agency unaware of how both his choices and his story are shaped by influences and machinations outside of his chosen perception" !! absolutely. i love thinking about how denji's initial borrowing from aki (also enforced by mkm's asking him about the gun devil / aki's reaction to this outside the hotel) is presented as this Cheap version of aki's own motivations. it's so good. it's what leads us in the end to denji staring at aki's gun fiend corpse in the streets (and i do enjoy considering Fiendhood as sort of. a giving of a Body to an Idea. what aki effectively did with the gun devil -- and then the irony of his revenge climax isnt that ironical at all, isnt it?)

thank you for sending this in, and i'm pleased you enjoy reading my analysis. i'd def be interested in hearing more of your thoughts about csm if you wanted to share them :3

[wickedsrest-rp-archive]

Name: Jack Salix Species: Nymph (Leshy) Occupation: Cello Instructor Age: 200 Years Old (Looks about 36) Played By: Donnie Face Claim: Manny Jacinto

"An eye for an eye is not enough. I will take their eyes, their flesh, their bones and their blood and I will feed them to the forest they dare to cut."

TW: Parental death

Jack Salix didn’t always have his name. A long time before he came to Maine he was simply known as Willow, a keeper of the forests of Pennsylvania. His father Oak, found him as a young leshy and took him under his wing proving to be quite the competent teacher as the young nymph learned all there was to the forest. The species of trees, their names, their personalities, how to help them when they became ill, how to strengthen the young saplings that would otherwise fail on their own; everything that made the forest breathe with life he was taught. But that wasn’t the only thing the old oak showed Jack. 

Humans had always been an odd thing to Jack. They were not as strong nor wise as the trees he grew up with, in fact a slight breeze seemed enough to take most of them down. When he first walked into town with Oak, he was horrified. Buildings made from the bodies of his fallen friends littered the streets as the humans simply walked merrily among the corpses. If it weren’t for the reassurance of his adopted father, Jack would have killed them all then and there. Oak reassured him that it was simply nature at work and the humans only took what they needed, much like when a fox killed a rabbit; you did not blame the fox for eating to survive. Jack still thought that the fox did not live inside the carcass of the rabbit, but left it be. 

In a few years time Jack even came to like the quirky little beings, especially their music.  Despite it being made out of more wood, Jack couldn’t help but fall for the gentle tones of the cello. Each note that came from the strings made his body feel like it was floating on air, it could draw emotions from him that he thought were well hidden as if magic was ringing out with each stroke of the strings and calling directly to his heart. Perhaps too well, the first time Jack fell in love was with his cello teacher. A young man by the name of Thomas, who was as beautiful as the instrument he handled. 

Thomas and Jack lived quite the happy life together, it was rocky at first. Thomas didn’t understand Jack’s obsession with the woods or why he would disappear each night until one day he followed him and discovered what Jack really was. Thomas almost ran till he saw the worried look ingrained in the face of his love. From then on during the spring and summer Thomas spent the nights out in the woods with Jack, sleeping under the stars wrapped in the protective embrace.  

Such tender love could not last forever though and soon Jack was faced with the grief of the shortness of human lives. For years Jack would play his cello at night, mourning his loss. Father Oak was always there by his side. Allowing his boy to process it all and when asked why he hadn’t discouraged the union, explained that the time spent with them was worth more than the grief you felt at their passing. He wished for Jack to experience all that he could even if it was painful. To feel was to be alive. 

In the years it took to get over his loss of Thomas, the century shifted and new technology seemed to be coming from humans. Computers, phones, cars, all noisy things that kept Jack firmly in his woods. Father Oak was excited to see the changes and often dragged his son into town to watch as buildings that were made from wood were replaced with cement. Powerlines soon covered the small town and new roads were being paved. 

All of this new was not positive, soon the trucks came. Loud horrible machines that cut through the trees of his home with such ease it made the axes they used to use look like tools for toddlers. They took more than just what they needed and Jack despite his best efforts to protect the forest failed. His home was ravaged and he joined the humans protesting along with Oak, hoping humans would listen to their own kind but in the end nothing changed. So Jack took to more desperate measures, destroying machinery and terrorizing those that dared to step foot in the woods. This too proved to be a fool's errand. A warden was called to deal with the wayward leshy. 

Jack ran into the warden and was wounded, running to his tree to try and mend; the warden tracked him down. Jack was certain he was going to die when another figure came bursting from the treeline, it was Oak. His father managed to best the warden but not without taking a fatal blow himself. As Jack held onto the dying leshy, Oak warned him to flee, that the forest was lost and more would come. Jack promised he would leave and as the older tree went rigid in his arms he stood, taking a sapling from his tree and Oaks as well as his cello before leaving the forest. The wound on his side was the only prize won for his effort. 

Shuffling up into Maine he came to settle in a sleepy little town known as Wicked’s Rest. He managed to rent a home, planting the sapling from his tree in the backyard along with Oak’s. Any love he held for the humans was replaced by a seething hatred. Vile creatures that took more than they deserved with little thought for the consequences. For three years he mended himself in the town, making a living by teaching the flesh bags of Wicked’s Rest how to play cello while tending to the forest around him. He was beginning to let go of his hatred as he came into contact with more humans, but it all came swirling back as a logging company rolled into town and started cutting down the trees of his new home. This time he would not let them simply have their way. He would not let them murder and plunder the bodies of his companions like they were some unfeeling beings for their use only. This time he would make sure they left and never came back even if it meant more drastic measures. 

Character Facts:

Personality: Empathetic, self-critical, loyal, impulsive, obsessive

Jack plays the cello and sometimes if you go out into the woods you can hear the sounds of it drifting through the trees. He used to do it because he loved playing, now it’s to mourn the loss of his home.

In his unglamoured form, Jack takes traits of a weeping willow tree. Roots sprout from his forehead and wrap around to meet behind his head with the long strands of Weeping Willow branches draping down from them. The leaves tend to change color with the season, falling off in winter and budding again in spring.

Jack has a pet named Porkchop. He got his name when he stole some of Jack’s dinner. He is a champagne colored ferret who Jack got upon his arrival to the town. He posts videos of Porkchop stealing random things from around the house onto his tiktok.

Jack offers private lessons for teaching the cello. He makes enough to rent a house and cover groceries. He is doing his best to blend in and look like a human, though his temper has made his neighbors a little wary of him. 

[payperindia]

What is Bagging Machine? - Payper India

A bagging machine is a type of industrial equipment used to automate the process of filling and sealing bags with various products. These machines are widely used in different industries, such as food, pharmaceuticals, chemicals, and agriculture, to efficiently package goods ranging from powders and granules to liquids and solids.

Image Ref : What is Bagging Machine — Payper India

Key Functions of Bagging Machines:

Filling: The machine accurately dispenses a pre-set amount of product into each bag. This can be achieved through various mechanisms, such as volumetric fillers, auger fillers, or weigh scales, depending on the nature of the product being packaged. Click here for Ref : www.payperindia.com

Sealing: After the bag is filled, the machine seals it to ensure the product is contained and protected. Sealing methods can include heat sealing, ultrasonic sealing, or using adhesive tapes, depending on the bag material and the product requirements. Click here for Ref : www.payperindia.com

Cutting/Trimming: Some bagging machines also trim excess material from the sealed bags to ensure a neat and uniform appearance. Click here for Ref : www.payperindia.com

Types of Bagging Machines:

Valve Bagging Machines: Designed for heavy-duty products such as cement, sand, or chemicals, these machines fill bags through a valve and then seal the valve to prevent leakage. Click here for Ref : www.payperindia.com

Open-Mouth Bagging Machines: Used for bulk products like grains, animal feed, or fertilizers, these machines fill pre-made bags that are manually or automatically positioned under the filling spout. Click here for Ref : www.payperindia.com

FIBC- Jumbo Bagging Machine: A jumbo bagging machine, or bulk bag filling machine, is designed to fill large bags (500–2000 kg) with bulk materials.

Why Payper ?

Payper India develops and manufactures bagging machines for all types of bulk solids such as powders or granulates. Other important product lines are palletizers and complete lines.

Our customers come from many different sectors, e.g., Chemical Industry, Agro-food Industry, Mining Industry and Building Industry. Payper India offers a comprehensive solution for each sector.

No need or demand is too small neither too big for us. We supply bagging machines for smaller industries with low volume requirements. We also provide complete turnkey projects for customers with high demands as to capacity and speed.

What matters to us is that our customer is comfortable and satisfied with the solution we have developed for them

Visit Payper at — https://www.payperindia.com/

Business LinkedIn -http://bit.ly/45Y1xMQ

Twitter — https://twitter.com/PayperIndia

Instagram — https://www.instagram.com/payperindia/

[gradientdescent-does-it-all]

Time to dive in to construction! This is my first time making a full-sized garment of this complexity out of leather - usually the fiddly things I make are gloves, entirely sewn by hand, totally different beast. So for this I’m trying out a couple of new tools to help it all come together without stretching/distorting as I sew the seams.

Leather can slip, slide, and stretch quite a lot - the grain side has no grip. So it definitely needs to be fixed somehow before feeding it into the sewing machine. Naturally you can’t pin leather, so I turned to these little quilting clips instead. They worked like a charm. Just gotta remember to keep the clip inside the seam allowance, because otherwise they can leave an imprint on the surface of the leather.

Another thing you just can’t do with leather is press seams open. This center back seam gets topstitched open, but if I try to sew it without fastening it down somehow, once again it’s going to stretch and distort as I go. So for this application I went for this handy dandy double sided tape, especially meant for leather. I’m a big fan of this - easy to apply with good hold. I’d kill for a product like this with a latex adhesive - it would make long latex seams SO MUCH EASIER. Alas, I’m still stuck with rubber cement and a paint brush for that one.

Voila - perfectly “pressed” and topstitched seam. Man, I love working with leather.

[gabberindustries]

Why Manufacturers Prefer Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machines Today

In today’s fast-paced packaging industry, the demand for high-quality, durable, and visually appealing woven sacks is rapidly growing. One of the key technologies that has revolutionized this sector is the Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machine. These machines are preferred by manufacturers across the globe due to their ability to deliver precision printing, high-speed output, and cost efficiency.

In this blog, we will explore why these machines are becoming the go-to choice for modern manufacturers, what benefits they offer, and why Gabbar Industries is considered the best manufacturer of Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machines in India.

What is a Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machine?

A Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machine is a high-performance printing solution designed specifically for printing on pre-stitched or finished woven sacks. Unlike traditional roll-to-roll machines, these systems allow manufacturers to print directly on individual bags with high accuracy and clarity.

Flexographic printing uses flexible relief plates to transfer ink onto the substrate. In the case of woven sacks, this method ensures quick-drying, low-cost, and efficient printing for various applications including fertilizers, cement, food grains, sugar, chemicals, and more.

Why Are Manufacturers Switching to Flexo Printing Machines?

Here are the top reasons manufacturers are increasingly preferring Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machines:

1. High-Speed Performance

Modern flexo machines are capable of printing thousands of bags per hour. With automation and efficient bag feeding systems, production speed sees a significant boost — saving time and increasing overall output.

2. Superior Print Quality

One of the biggest advantages of a flexo printing machine is its ability to provide sharp, consistent, and smudge-free prints. Manufacturers can rely on the machine to deliver high-resolution branding, logos, and product information that enhances the packaging’s professional look.

3. Cost Efficiency

Compared to traditional printing methods, flexographic printing is more economical in the long run. With quick setup times, minimal waste, and low ink consumption, manufacturers save significantly on operational costs.

4. Flexibility in Design and Ink Compatibility

Flexo printing supports a wide range of inks including water-based, solvent-based, and UV curable inks. This makes it easier for manufacturers to adapt to different client requirements and industries.

5. Eco-Friendly Operation

With increased focus on sustainability, manufacturers are choosing Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machines that support water-based inks and low energy consumption. This helps companies meet environmental standards while maintaining product quality.

6. User-Friendly Automation and Controls

Modern flexo machines come equipped with advanced PLC controls, touch screens, and automatic tension control. These features reduce human error, minimize downtime, and ensure smooth operation for operators.

7. Customization and Versatility

Manufacturers can choose from various configurations — ranging from 2-color to 8-color machines — depending on their production needs. Flexo machines can handle different bag sizes and thicknesses, offering the flexibility needed for diverse production lines.

8. Durability and Low Maintenance

A major reason for preferring flexo printing machines is their robust construction and long service life. With proper maintenance, these machines can operate for years without major breakdowns, reducing overall downtime and maintenance costs.

Industries That Benefit from Flexo Printing on Woven Sacks

Agriculture: For packaging seeds, grains, fertilizers

Cement & Construction: Durable printing on cement bags

Chemical: Leak-proof printing on chemical packaging

Food Industry: Branded bags for sugar, flour, rice, etc.

Retail & Wholesale: Custom-printed sacks for bulk packaging

Why Choose Gabbar Industries?

When it comes to investing in a high-quality Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machine, choosing the right manufacturer is crucial. This is where Gabbar Industries stands out.

 Trusted Experience

With years of experience in machinery manufacturing, Gabbar Industries is known for delivering reliable and innovative printing solutions.

 Superior Engineering

Every machine is built using high-grade materials, precision components, and tested for optimal performance.

 Customization Options

Gabbar Industries provides machines tailored to your specific production requirements, from basic to advanced models.

️ After-Sales Support

From installation to maintenance, their dedicated support team ensures your machine continues to deliver peak performance.

 Get in Touch with Gabbar Industries

Interested in upgrading your production line with a high-speed, cost-effective Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machine?

Conclusion

The demand for superior packaging is only increasing, and manufacturers must stay ahead by investing in the right technology. A Woven Sack Bag to Bag Flexo Printing Machine is a smart investment for anyone looking to boost production, ensure quality, and cut down operational costs.

Gabbar Industries is the name you can trust when it comes to robust, efficient, and innovative printing solutions. Don’t settle for less — upgrade your woven sack printing capabilities today!

📞 Contact: (+91) 9879039000  🌐 Website: https://gabbarindustries.com/

[hydropressind]

Polypropylene Filter Plates Manufacturer – What Makes Hydro Press Industries Stand Out?

When it comes to cutting-edge filtration solutions, Hydro Press Industries has cemented its place as a global leader in manufacturing high-quality Polypropylene Filter Plates. Designed to serve diverse industries, from chemical processing to wastewater treatment, our filter plates are engineered for performance, longevity, and unmatched reliability. 

At Hydro Press Industries, we understand that the efficiency of your filter press depends heavily on the precision and durability of filter plates—and that’s exactly where we excel.

Why Choose Polypropylene Filter Plates from Hydro Press Industries?

At Hydro Press Industries, we manufacture Polypropylene Filter Plates that combine structural robustness with chemical resistance, ideal for handling both high-pressure and corrosive applications.

1. Superior Quality Polypropylene Raw Material

We source only virgin polypropylene resins for manufacturing. This results in:

Exceptional mechanical strength

High thermal and chemical resistance

Long operational lifespan

Our plates are non-toxic, corrosion-resistant, and designed to withstand high filtration cycles without deformation.

2. Advanced Injection Moulding Technology

We employ state-of-the-art injection moulding machines that ensure dimensional accuracy and uniformity in all our filter plates. Our commitment to precision engineering allows for seamless sealing, minimal leakage, and consistent cake discharge. The edge-to-edge finish guarantees that every plate contributes to a tight, efficient filtration process.

3. Wide Range of Sizes and Configurations

Hydro Press Industries offers an extensive range of filter plate sizes, starting from 470mm to 2000mm, catering to:

Membrane Filter Plates

Chamber Filter Plates

Plate and Frame Types

Whether you require plates for high-pressure dewatering or slurry separation, we deliver configurations suited to your application with customizable feed eye sizes, port locations, and cake thickness options.

4. Exceptional Cake Release and Cleaning Efficiency

Our plates are designed with precise surface texturing to facilitate easy cake release. This not only reduces operational downtime but also ensures better cleaning efficiency. The result? Higher productivity and lower maintenance costs.

Industries We Serve with Polypropylene Filter Plates

Hydro Press Industries caters to a broad spectrum of industries that demand reliable, high-capacity filtration.

Wastewater Treatment Plants: Our plates are widely used in municipal and industrial effluent treatment plants, providing efficient solid-liquid separation, reducing sludge volume, and minimizing disposal costs.

Chemical and Pharmaceutical Industries: Chemical processes often involve aggressive and corrosive materials. Our polypropylene filter plates are highly resistant to such conditions and offer leak-proof sealing and optimum chemical compatibility for sensitive filtration processes.

Mining and Mineral Processing: In mining applications, dewatering is critical. Hydro Press plates can handle abrasive slurries while maintaining durability under high-pressure conditions, ensuring effective concentration of valuable minerals.

Food and Beverage Sector: Our filter plates comply with food-grade standards and are extensively used in sugar mills, edible oil refining, fruit juice extraction, and alcohol processing, maintaining hygiene and efficiency.

Custom Engineering and Technical Expertise

At Hydro Press Industries, we don’t just manufacture; we engineer solutions. Our team of expert engineers works closely with clients to understand operational challenges and provide tailored plate solutions that enhance:

Filtration speed

Cake dryness

Cycle times

Every plate is rigorously tested for mechanical integrity, pressure tolerance, and dimensional consistency before dispatch.

Certifications and Compliance

Hydro Press Industries adheres to international manufacturing standards, ensuring the highest level of product safety, consistency, and performance. Our facility is ISO-certified, and our filter plates comply with:

FDA regulations (for food-grade applications)

GMP guidelines (for pharmaceutical use)

CE certification (for export markets)

We guarantee zero-defect delivery with stringent in-house QC procedures, including hydraulic pressure testing, visual inspection, and dimensional checks.

Sustainability in Manufacturing

We are committed to eco-friendly practices. Our production process minimizes waste and maximizes material reuse. The use of recyclable polypropylene supports sustainability goals, while our energy-efficient moulding systems reduce our carbon footprint.

Exceptional After-Sales Support

We understand that product quality must be backed by strong customer service. Hydro Press Industries offers:

Technical assistance during installation

Training for operational staff

Troubleshooting and remote support

Inventory of spare parts for quick replacement

Clients across the globe trust our service reliability, making us their long-term filtration partner.

Client Testimonials and Case Studies

Several renowned industrial clients have enhanced their filtration efficiency and reduced downtime by switching to Hydro Press Industries' polypropylene filter plates. Our case studies reveal:

30% reduction in maintenance cost

20% faster filtration cycle

Extended service life of plates beyond 3 years

These tangible improvements underscore our commitment to value-driven solutions.

Conclusion: Why We’re the Preferred Polypropylene Filter Plate Manufacturer

Hydro Press Industries stands at the forefront of innovation, quality, and customer satisfaction in the filter plate manufacturing industry. With a laser focus on precision, durability, and performance, our polypropylene filter plates are engineered to exceed expectations in every industrial scenario.

From state-of-the-art manufacturing to tailored engineering solutions, we provide comprehensive, end-to-end filtration components that make your system smarter, stronger, and more sustainable. Choose Hydro Press Industries - because excellence is not an option, it’s our standard.

For more info visit - https://hydropressindustries.com/ 

Hydro Press Industries

SF no: 378/3, 279/1, PO, Ganesh Nagar, Malumichampatti, Tamil Nadu 641050

093448 35880

nisha@hydropressindustries.comhttps://maps.app.goo.gl/BAtgssjq8BZrJ4ht8

[karmyog]

Building a Sustainable Future: The Rise of Fully Automatic Fly Ash Brick Machines in India

India's construction sector is booming, and with it, the demand for efficient, sustainable building materials. In this landscape, fully automatic fly ash brick machines are emerging as a game-changer, revolutionizing brick manufacturing across the nation. These advanced machines not only offer high productivity but also contribute significantly to environmental conservation by utilizing industrial waste.

What are Fully Automatic Fly Ash Brick Machines?

At its core, a fully automatic fly ash brick machine is an industrial marvel designed to produce high-quality bricks from fly ash – a byproduct of coal combustion in thermal power plants – mixed with other raw materials like sand, lime, gypsum, and cement. The "fully automatic" aspect signifies that the entire production process, from raw material feeding and mixing to pressing, molding, and often even stacking, is automated, requiring minimal human intervention.

These machines leverage sophisticated technologies such as:

Hydraulic Pressure Systems: Ensuring uniform compression and high-density bricks with excellent strength.

Vibro-Compaction Technology: Combining vibration with pressure to eliminate air bubbles and achieve superior compaction and dimensional accuracy.

PLC (Programmable Logic Controller) Control: For precise management of the entire operation, enabling consistent quality, adjustable pressure settings, and real-time monitoring.

Automated Raw Material Feeding and Batching Systems: Ensuring precise proportions of materials for optimal brick composition.

Mould Flexibility: Allowing for the production of various brick types, including solid, hollow, paving blocks, and interlocking bricks, using interchangeable molds.

Auto-Stacker Systems: In advanced models, bricks are automatically stacked post-production, reducing manual labor and improving efficiency.

The Unmatched Advantages in the Indian Context

The adoption of fully automatic fly ash brick making machines in India offers a multitude of benefits, both economic and environmental:

High Production Capacity: These machines are designed for large-scale output, with some models capable of producing 1500-2500 bricks per hour, or even up to 30,000 bricks per day. This high volume helps meet the escalating demand in the rapidly growing Indian construction market.

Consistent Quality and Durability: Automation eliminates human error, leading to uniformly shaped, high-strength bricks with low water absorption and excellent thermal insulation. This translates to better structural integrity and longer-lasting buildings.

Environmental Sustainability: By utilizing fly ash, a significant industrial waste product, these machines contribute to:

Waste Utilization: Reducing the burden on landfills and promoting a circular economy.

Reduced Carbon Footprint: Less reliance on traditional clay bricks, which often involve topsoil excavation and energy-intensive firing processes.

Lower Water Usage: Fly ash brick production typically requires less water compared to conventional clay bricks.

Compliance with Regulations: The Indian government, through notifications from the Ministry of Environment & Forests (MoEF&CC), has mandated the utilization of fly ash in construction activities within a certain radius of thermal power plants, further driving the demand for these machines.

Cost-Effectiveness and Quick ROI: While the initial investment might seem substantial (prices for fully automatic plants can range from INR 10.5 Lakh to over INR 2 crore, depending on capacity and features), the long-term cost savings are significant. Reduced labor requirements, minimal maintenance, and high production output lead to a faster return on investment (ROI).

Reduced Labor Dependency and Enhanced Safety: Automation minimizes the need for manual labor, addressing concerns about labor availability and reducing occupational hazards associated with traditional brick-making.

Versatility: The ability to produce various types of bricks and blocks caters to diverse construction needs and market segments, from residential and commercial buildings to infrastructure projects and landscaping.

Energy Efficiency: Modern machines are optimized for lower power consumption, contributing to reduced operational costs.

Leading Manufacturers and Market Trends in India

India boasts a strong ecosystem of manufacturers specializing in fully automatic fly ash brick machines. Companies like Narsinh Industries, Endeavour Intelligent Equipments Private Limited, HVB Exports, Revomac Industries, Laxmi Engineering Works, and Kailash Engineering are prominent players, offering a wide range of machines with varying capacities and features. Many manufacturers are based in industrial hubs like Ahmedabad, Morbi, Mehsana, and Coimbatore.

The market trend is clearly towards more advanced, energy-efficient, and highly automated solutions. Manufacturers are focusing on:

Integrating IoT and remote monitoring capabilities for enhanced control and diagnostics.

Developing machines with even higher pressing capacities for denser bricks.

Offering customized solutions to meet specific client requirements.

Ensuring robust build quality for long operational life and minimal wear and tear.

Investing in a Sustainable Future

For entrepreneurs and construction companies in India looking to scale up their operations while embracing sustainable practices, investing in a fully automatic fly ash brick machine is a strategic decision. These machines not only promise high productivity and superior product quality but also align with the nation's growing emphasis on green building and responsible waste management. As India continues its infrastructure development, the demand for eco-friendly and high-performance building materials like fly ash bricks, produced efficiently by these advanced machines, is set to soar.

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Why Invest in a Portable Batching Plant

On-Site Mixing for Consistency and Speed

In fast-moving projects whether it’s a rural road widening or an urban infill development, ready access to high-quality concrete is critical. A portable batching plant brings the precision of a permanent installation to your site. By situating the mixing unit directly where you pour, you eliminate long haul times, reduce rebound from drum mixers and ensure every cubic meter matches your design specifications. This on-site approach not only slashes RMC plant cost associated with third-party vendors but also tightens control over water‐cement ratios, aggregate grading and admixture dosing.

Key Features That Matter

Coninfra’s portable plants are engineered for quick deployment. Modular skids arrive pre-assembled, requiring minimal civil works—just a level pad and utility hook-ups. PLC‐based automation handles aggregate weighing, cement feed and water dosing to within ±1% accuracy, safeguarding mix consistency batch after batch. Integrated dust collectors and water-recycle systems minimize site pollution, while remote SCADA options let you monitor productivity and trigger preventive maintenance without leaving your office.

Applications in Road Construction

Portable batching plants excel in road paving projects where road alignment shifts frequently, such as long stretches of bituminous roads and highway extensions. Instead of trucking hot mix asphalt from a central facility, you can pivot your batch plant alongside the paver machine and road roller construction unit, ensuring materials are fresh and within pot life. This mobility also benefits emergency repairs mobile units can be on-site within days, supplying wet mix concrete for pothole patches or drainage channel backfills.

Balancing Cost and Capacity

While fixed tower batching plants deliver higher maximum throughput (up to 150 m³/hr), portable units from Coninfra still offer robust performance up to 80 m³/hr—with the added benefit of relocation. For contractors handling multiple sites or phased developments, this flexibility can offset the slight premium per cubic meter by reducing standby charges, haul costs and idle transit mixers.

Choosing the Right Portable Plant

When evaluating options, consider your daily volume, future project pipeline and site access. If you frequently switch between asphalt road construction and concrete pours, look for dual‐mode plants with optional heated bins or quick-connect silicone hosing for admixtures. Coninfra’s team can help tailor a package, complete with batch plant operator training, spare parts kits and ongoing technical support to ensure your mobile batching plant becomes the most reliable member of your construction fleet.