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lifestyleblogeruk · 1 year

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The Top 5 Signs That Your Security Gate Needs Repairs

Security gates serve as the first line of defense for both residential and commercial properties. Their primary purpose is to keep intruders at bay and ensure the safety of the premises. However, like any other mechanical system, security gates are prone to wear and tear over time. Regular maintenance is essential to keep them functioning optimally, but sometimes, repairs become inevitable.

In this blog post, we will discuss the top five signs that indicate your security gate requires repairs. Identifying these signs early on can save you from potential security breaches and the inconvenience of unexpected gate malfunctions. If you notice any of the following issues, it's time to consider seeking professional security gate maintenance services.

Unusual Noises and Jerky Movements: One of the most apparent signs of a security gate in distress is strange noises and jerky movements during operation. If your gate screeches, grinds, or makes unusual sounds, it might be due to worn-out components or damaged gears. Ignoring these noises can exacerbate the problem, leading to costly repairs in the long run. Similarly, if the gate's movement becomes erratic or it opens and closes abruptly, there could be an issue with the gate motor or automation system.

2. Slow Response to Remote Control Commands: Does your security gate take longer than usual to respond to remote control commands? Delayed responses or intermittent functioning can be indicative of a faulty gate access control system. It could be a problem with the remote control itself, the receiver, or the gate's electronic components. To ensure reliable access control and prevent potential security risks, contact experts in remote control security gate repairs.

Gate Misalignment and Sagging: Over time, the weight and frequent movements of the gate can cause misalignment or sagging issues. Misaligned gates may have difficulty closing properly, leaving gaps that compromise security. Sagging gates, on the other hand, exert unnecessary strain on the hinges and motor, potentially leading to more severe damages. Residential and commercial security gate services can realign the gate and address any structural issues to restore its proper functionality.

4. Frequent Tripping of Circuit Breakers: An automatic security gate that frequently trips the circuit breakers might be facing power supply problems or an electrical issue. It could result from damaged wiring, faulty components, or security gate motor replacement requirements. Avoid resetting the circuit breakers repeatedly, as it might lead to further complications. Instead, contact professionals in emergency security gate repairs to diagnose and resolve the root cause of the issue.

Visible Signs of Wear and Rust: Regularly inspect your security gate for visible signs of wear, corrosion, or rust. Steel and iron security gates are susceptible to rust, especially in humid or coastal environments. Rust can weaken the structure, affecting the gate's overall integrity. Additionally, worn-out parts, such as hinges, tracks, and rollers, can hinder smooth gate operation. Engage in proactive maintenance, and if needed, seek iron security gate maintenance to address rust and prevent further deterioration.

In conclusion, security gate repairs are not to be taken lightly, as a malfunctioning gate can compromise the safety of your property and its occupants. Regular maintenance can prolong the life of your security gate, but when signs of trouble arise, prompt action is crucial. Whether it's residential or commercial security gate services, emergency repairs, or gate access control fixes, investing in professional assistance ensures a well-functioning and secure gate for your peace of mind. Contact us!

#Security gate maintenance services #Emergency security gate repairs #Residential security gate repairs #Commercial security gate services #Gate access control repairs #Security gate motor replacement #Remote control security gate repairs #Automatic security gate repairs #Sliding security gate repairs #Electronic security gate repairs #Security gate automation repairs #Steel security gate repairs #Iron security gate maintenance

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stevestark · 4 months

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Eddie survives the Upside Down by sheer force of Steve Harrington's will. He, Robin, and Nancy come upon Dustin sobbing over Eddie's very alarmingly still body, and Steve doesn't even hesitate to heave Eddie over his shoulder and carry him to the gate. He refuses to think about whether or not Eddie is dead and this is pointless — he'll be damned if he doesn't try everything. They manage to get Eddie through and escape themselves before the earth starts ripping itself open, and Steve carefully lays Eddie on the bed in the RV, tearing down the road at an ungodly speed, driving straight for the hospital.

He's so singularly focused on not letting Eddie die that he doesn't remember about Erica, Lucas, and Max until he watches in horror as a gurney carrying Max comes flying through the doors of the emergency room, Lucas and Erica running behind it. The nurses stop the Sinclairs from following her through to the surgical wing, and Steve hurriedly vacates his seat, pulling the two kids into a hug, apologies pouring from his lips. Eventually, he stops babbling, and everyone takes a seat, Steve wincing as he does so.

The bites on his sides still smart, but he can — and will — wait to get seen himself until he hears something about Eddie. When they'd shown up, Steve carrying Eddie bridal style and screaming for help, everyone around them had thought Eddie was dead; after getting him on a gurney, a nurse yelled at everyone to shut up as she pressed a stethoscope to Eddie's chest, and the next thing Steve knew, Eddie was being wheeled away from them to surgery. Dustin had fallen to his knees, appearing to be praying to anything listening, and Steve nearly joined him. Somehow, Eddie was still alive. Steve refused to be seen until he knew that was still the case.

Hours pass before they're allowed in to see Eddie; when they are, it's somehow more horrifying than the moment Steve had found him cradled in Dustin's lap. Eddie is still motionless, but now he's paler, there's what looks like a hundred wires coming out of his body, and a tube is breathing for him. Steve hazily registers the doctors explaining that the blood loss was significant, as were the wounds littering Eddie's body, and that it's going to be a waiting game to see what happens next. He startles when he hears the gentle comment that if Eddie doesn't wake within a week, it's unlikely he ever will; Steve refuses to even consider that as a possibility.

Nancy manages to talk Steve into getting his own bites cleaned and stitched, which turns into taking him home for a shower and a change of clothes; they're still driving the stolen RV, and when Steve pulls back into the hospital parking lot, he hesitates before climbing out. Eddie's denim vest is still sitting on the sofa, bloodstained and ripped all over. Steve digs through the cabinets of the RV until he finds a sewing kit, and brings the vest inside with him.

He carefully washes out as much of the blood as he can in the bathroom sink, and plops into a chair at Eddie's bedside, pulling out red thread and a needle from the sewing kit. Nancy, Robin, and Dustin all exchange looks before simply sitting in silence, watching Steve carefully begin to repair every tear in the fabric.

Eventually, Nancy gets a hold of Wayne Munson, who enters the room, sees Steve hard at work on his project, and doesn't say a word — he just pulls a chair up next to Steve's, claps him on the shoulder, and reaches out to pat Eddie's leg through the hospital blankets. Neither Steve nor Wayne leave their spots other than to use the bathroom, and nobody tries to make them.

Three days into Eddie's hospital stay, the door opens, and Eleven, Jonathan, Will, Mike, and someone Steve doesn't recognize enter the room. Steve looks up, unblinking and on the verge of unseeing, before turning his attention back to the vest; two small hands reach out and cover his, and it's only then that he registers who's standing in front of him. Eleven is looking at him sadly, and hesitates only briefly before she leans forward to hug him.

He grips her tightly, and takes a shaky breath before holding a hand out toward the Byers brothers and Mike, and sooner than anyone can blink, there's a massive huddle of arms enveloping Steve. For the first time since leaving the Upside Down, Steve lets himself cry; nobody comments at it, nobody even acknowledges it — other than Eleven, who gently wipes his face with her sleeves when they finally separate.

More chairs are dragged into the room, and suddenly Eddie is the most popular patient in the hospital — tied with Max, of course, as the group takes shifts between the two rooms. Steve and Wayne are the only permanent fixtures in Eddie's room, just as Lucas and Erica are the only permanent residents with Max.

Steve finishes patching the tears in the vest, but Eddie hasn't woken up yet, so his fingers itch to keep going. He pulls out a spool of white thread, and outlines the jagged stitches he made before, carefully working his way over the entire vest once more. When he finishes that, he grabs black thread, and repeats the process.

He's in a sort of trance as he stitches away, conversations happening around him but sounding like they're miles away. It's not until someone physically stops his hands moving again that he realizes the words are being directed towards him; confused, he looks up and jolts so strongly he nearly tips his chair backwards. The person who stopped him working this time is Jim Hopper, and for the first time since the doctor gave them the stupid timeline, Steve feels hope. If Hopper can come back, Eddie can too. Eddie can too.

On day 6 of Eddie's coma, Steve speaks for the first time, tired eyes looking at Eleven beseechingly. "Can you... will you see if he's still in there?"

Eleven takes the bandana Wayne passes her and ties it over her eyes, one hand gripping Eddie's, the other intertwined with Steve's. She focuses on the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the wheezing of the oxygen pump, the sounds allowing her to drift into the in-between. She finds Eddie curled in a ball, hands clutching his sides, tears silently streaming down his face.

As she did with Steve, she gently reaches out and wipes his face clean, and waits for him to acknowledge her; he eventually looks up at her and his eyebrows furrow. "Who are you?" he asks, voice scratchy with disuse.

"Eleven," she says, holding out her hand to you.

"Henderson's friend?"

Eleven nods. "Come. Time to leave here. They're waiting for you."

She pulls Eddie to his feet and starts walking forward, focusing her hearing until she can isolate Steve's breathing pattern under the din of the hospital machinery. Her eyes fly open under the bandana, and she rips it off, turning to look at Eddie expectantly. For a moment, there's nothing and then —

Eddie starts choking on the breathing tube, Wayne starts yelling for a doctor, Steve breaks down in fresh tears, and the kids are cheering.

It's hours of examinations later that Steve is finally able to return to his seat at Eddie's side, everyone, Wayne included, giving him a minute alone with Eddie. When he enters, he notices Eddie is holding the vest, tracing his fingers over Steve's haphazard stitching.

Sheepishly, Steve raises a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I did the best I could."

The stitches zigzag across all the places the fabric had been slashed, both by demobat talons and sharp bushes in the Upside Down forest, and Steve's work has it looking like branches of lightning working their way across the vest. Eddie shakes his head and looks up at Steve, eyes wide and shining. "You fixed it."

Steve shrugs and Eddie shakes his head again. "Harrington.... Steve. You... you fixed it. For me."

Steve inches forward in his seat, and reaches out to grab one of Eddie's hands. "I dunno, I kinda think I fucked it up. But I could tell when you threw it at me that this was something that was important to you. I didn't let that place take you away, why would I let it take your things?"

Eddie laughs, head thrown back against his pillows, hand squeezing the absolute life out of Steve's. When he finally settles, he looks at Steve bashfully, head dipped down just enough that he's looking up at him through his eyelashes. "Talk about a declaration of unambiguous true love," he whispers.

Steve doesn't seem surprised or put off by Eddie's assessment; in fact, all he does is beam at him before lifting Eddie's hand to his face, pressing a featherlight kiss to his bruised knuckles.

"Take me out on a date first, Munson. Then we can start throwing words like love around."

As the room fills with the sound of Eddie and Steve's laughter, the rest of the group filters back in, including Lucas pushing a wheelchair-bound Max; Steve looks around at all of them and sighs around a soft smile.

They won.

#Steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #my fic #originally the lightning stitching was going to be intentional #Steve thinking about the red lightning in the Upside Down #and thinking about it as the backdrop to Eddie's playing #but I kind of like the idea of it being accidental and Eddie thinking it's metal as fuck #1k

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fgdoorservice · 2 years

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Opt for Professionals Offering Emergency Garage Door Repair Services to Improve Mechanism

To begin with, people prefer contacting reliable companies offering emergency garage door repair services as they can handle all type of complexities within minimum downtime. Experts will inspect the gates and check pivot points so they can provide necessary restoration for maintaining security. Furthermore, they provide assistance for torsion springs, roller doors, tilt doors and other styles. They will also check all situated springs and bolts for better hold.

Benefits of Installing Automatic Gates for Homes:

According to verified portals, reputed companies offer diverse range of automatic swing gate openers for both residential and commercial properties to maintain overall security. These gates provide the opportunity to the owner to access the entry and exit of people. Skilled suppliers are well-trained and capable enough to provide installation for automatic gates for better performance.

Research portals stated that reliable companies will conduct comprehensive assessment to measure the available space and provide fitments accordingly for smooth functionality. They also provide sliding driveway gates so it would automatically open at the arrival if authority permits. Trusted suppliers also provide gate repairs and replacement for necessary parts to improve overall mechanism. They provide high quality spare parts consisting of top brands that will easily fit within the make and model of it.

Generally, these gates require minimum maintenance and one could clean or wash it with water while wiping it piece of cloth. Moreover, they also provide colour options that will complement overall property.

Reasons to Buy Top Notch Doors from Reliable Suppliers:

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The code of conduct also sells quality spare parts and remote controls to access the gates easily.

Further, they offer installation, repairs and replacement for all types of doors as well as gates so one could find all necessary solutions.

One should enquire with the best company if they are looking for emergency garage door repair assistance!

Source

#emergency garage door repair #automatic swing gate openers

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soapybutt17 · 6 months

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The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost riley #simon riley fluff

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ltwilliammowett · 8 months

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Rutter

A rutter is a manual for sailors with written sailing instructions. Prior to the advent of nautical charts, rutters were the most important source of geographical information for sailing.

In ancient times, they were known as periplus ("book of circumnavigation") and among medieval Italian sailors in the Mediterranean as portolano ("harbour book"). The Portuguese sailors of the 16th century called it roteiro, the French routier, from which the English word "rutter" is derived. In Dutch it was called leeskarte, in German Seebuch and in Spanish derrotero.

Great Rutter, London: Printed by W.G. for Wil. Fisher at the Postern-Gate near Tower-Hill, and Benj. Hurlock over against St. Magnus Church near London-Bridge, 1671

As you can see, these books have been around since ancient times (4th century BC) to help sailors and mariners on their journeys from A to B. And these manuals often contained a wealth of information that went beyond sailing instructions. They often contained detailed physical descriptions of coasts, harbours, islands, canals, indications of tides, landmarks, reefs, shoals and difficult entrances, instructions on how to use navigational instruments to determine position and plan routes, calendars, astronomical tables, mathematical tables and calculation rules (especially the Marteloio rule), lists of customs regulations in various ports, medical prescriptions, instructions on ship repairs, etc.

The nautical chart, which emerged in the 14th century, therefore never completely replaced the manual, but was only a supplement to it.

If you would like to see more rutters, you can do so here - https://www.aseaofbooks.org

#naval history #rutters #navigation books #4th century bc- 18th century #ancient seafaring #age of discovery #age of sail #naval navigation

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ironmengatesdoorsdesign · 1 year

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hazel-of-sodor · 3 months

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This is going around on twitter so let's try it here

Feel free to send an ask if you want an elaboration on any of these.

1. Thomas/Cassandra as a J72 is long established lore. But something never said is the fact they dont know what they are until the preservation era. As far as Thomas/Cassandra knew, they were an LBSCR E2.

2. British Railways had a secret program from the 60s to the early 80s where they would allow groups to buy engines for preservation, but only if they agreed to keep the engine's survival secret. This was to make the engines/classes seem rarer than they were and driver up their price.

3. Blue Peter was originally male, but after the 1994 Durham wheelship accident and the emergency repairs carried out at Crovan's Gate, Blue Peter reawoke as female.

4. The world is a little bit larger in the AU, with more passengers and freight. This means more members of existing classes like the LNER Raven A2 and Gresley P1, and some classes that weren't built in ours like the GWR Cathedrals and Stone Circle Class.

5. Preservation is a larger movement, due to the engines being alive. There are more preservation railways, and those that exist in our world are better funded, and often larger.

6. It is now possible to circle the island by rail, via the Mantauo line which runs North from Vicarstown to Mantauo, and the Little Western, which extends North from Harwich to Mantauo.

7. Both Stanley and Smudger exist. Smudger, offically named Jennings, was the original No.2 of the Mid-Sodor Railway. She was eventaully sold to the Cronk and Harwick, with Stanley being bought to replace her.

8. Yes Nicole and Samantha are together, and adopted Claire

9. Many 'extinct' classes of British Locomotive have surviving members in other countries. Most commonly in the Americas and Asia, but British Railways refugees can be found in most countries.

10. Flying Scotsman has been part owned by the NWR since the American Tour, which they funded the latter half of in turn for majority ownership. Alan Peglar readily agreed, as it meant Scotsman was secured no matter what happened to him. In the present day the other portion is owned by the NRM.

11. With the greater interest in preservation and the existence of Crovan's Gate, many new builds were finished earlier. For example Lady of Legend was completed in 1975. Tornado is notable in the Au for being the first standard gauge steam engine built entirely on mainland Britain since Evening Star, as all the others had Crovan's Gate built components.

12. With the extension to Mantauo, the "Little" Western is a full fledged mainline, sporting many GWR Locomotives including Castles, Stars, and Cathedrals. Despite this, all agree Duck is still the head of the line.

13. Thomas/Cassandra and Duck dated during the Summer of 1976 while the No.1 was on the Little Western due to storm damage on the Ffarquhar Branch. It ended amicably, although no one but the two of them is certain whether it was due to the pair not working out or Thomas/Cassandra returning to her Branch Line.

14. While LNER P2s were transferred to Sodor during the war, and remained on the island afterwards, they were rebuilt in a manner similar to Gordon and so are considered P2/1s by Railfans. The 2007 Prince of Wales new build is intended to bring back the Gresley condition design, and the P2/1s are all excited to meet their new sister (they all insist it will be a girl, and engines are almost always right about such things).

15. The LNER U1 Typhoon and Big Emma (Big Bertha) work together on the Mantauo line and are shedmates...They're also girlfriends.

16. There were plans to rebuild Henry into a Hudson before the Flying Kipper accident, but the damage he stained was great enough Hatt used a favor Stanier owed him to have Crewe repair and rebuild Henry. As his trailing axle had been destroyed in the accident, Stanier had him rebuilt as a Black 5

17. The Sodor engines take great offense to the "Two Henry's Theory" and more than one pushy railfan has got blasted with a face full of steam over it.

18. Nancy Rushen is now the Thin Controller of the Skarloey Railway.

19. The NWR fleet list is over 100 hundred engines long, despite only containing engines that have appeared in either stories or art.

20. Midlothian is safe and sound on Sodor, although she refuses to set one wheel on the mainland.

21. U.S.S. Enteprise CV-6 is in service with the US Coast Guard as a Helicopter Carrier.

22. LNER 10000 "Hush Hush" does survive, but in her rebuilt form and her name is British Enterprise.

23. All the of the engines from the Fifteen Guinea Special survive, as 44781 Excelsior was saved by the Sodor Railway Musuem when the original preservation attempt fell through.

24. Excelsior joined her sister 45318 Intrepid, who the museum had already preserved, as she had pulled the last regular timetabled steam hauled service on British Railways.

25. HMS Hood survives the Second World War, and remains in service until after the Falklands War. She is now a museum ship.

26. All three Olympic Class would survive to enter Sodor Star Line Service in 1935 (Titanic having forced herself into a turn a second earlier), sold off by White Star Line as a final act of Defiance in the face of their impending forced merger with Cunard.

27. When the American Ocean Liner SS Moro Castle caught fire in September 1934, a White Star Liner recieved her distress calls and came to her aid. R.M.S. Titanic had been leaving New York Harbor when the sos was recieved and immedaitly turned to assist. Her crew helped the Moro Castle's contain the blaze and evacuate the passengers, before towing the stricken vessel to safe harbor.

28. America has had locomotive and sentient machine rights on paper since the 1890s, but it only truly came into effect following the first world war.

29. After the second World War ended up aligning themselves with either the USA or USSR. The USSR, like the USA also had rights for sentient machines. Never content to let the other take the lead in anything, the two superpowers pushed for their allies to take similar measures, leading to most nations steam fleets being protected by the time they were economically capable of replacing them.

30. The exception for Sentient machine rights is Great Britain. Even by the 2020s, the British Government doesn't recognize sentient machines as anything more than beasts of burden, if even that. This has led to political tension between Britain and both the USA and USSR.

31. As a result of the larger world/passenger numbers, the White Star Line planned a fourth Olympic Class. Tentatively named R.M.S. Gigantic, the hull was still early in construction when WW1 broke out. The Royal Navy claimed the unfinished hull, planning to finish the ship as a troop ship, but Germany caught wind of the project, and the unfinished hull was bombed on the slipway by a German Zeppelin. The hull was a total loss, and the White Star Line cancelled the project. After the war, the Line would eventually receive the newly completed S.S. Bismark as war reparations in 1922, renaming her R.M.S. Majestic.

32. As the Titanic Disaster never unfolded, with the liner instead surviving her maiden voyage, J Bruce Ismay would remain the managing director of the White Star Line until its merger with Cunard in 1935.

33. In the United States, roads never took over like they did in our timeline. The Railroads pushed for cars to have the same rights as their engines. While seemingly benigh, this place cars outside the budget of all but the rich. Roads certainly still exist, but are primarily for emergency services and for transporting freight in areas where railroads are impractical for one reason or another.

34. Since R.M.S. Titanic survived, why did the rules and regulations following the disastestill occur. Two reasons, 1. I play by the rule of the elastic timeline. While Context may change, most global events (or at the very least their consequences) still play out. 2. The Liners went on strike. Quite simply it was thie lives and passengers on the line. Unlike Humans, you can't just replace a ocean liner when they Strike. The fact the White Star Liner immediatly announced refits for Titanic and Olympic further forced the shipping companies to fall in line.

35. Sailing ships are often senient, although it takes longer for them to Awaken than those with engines.

36. As computer systems were installed in locomotives, it was found the engines were pefectly capable on instinctually interfacing with them, allowing engines to eventually access the internet, and games.

37. Engines are capable of consuming human food, although wether they like to varys engine to engine. No one is quite sure where the food consumed food and drink go.

38. While the original 26 books of the railway series are based on actuall events on the NWR, they have often been tweaked to better works in their role as children's books

#TTTE AU #RWS AU #Hazel Au #Ask Hazel #Hazel asks #Hazel Q&A

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schneider-garage-door-inc · 6 months

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When it comes to safeguarding your business premises, commercial gates in Los Angeles offer a perfect blend of security and style. To ensure optimal performance and longevity, it's crucial to entrust the installation and maintenance of your commercial gates to garage door repair experts in Los Angeles. Give your friendly neighborhood Schneider Garage Door repair service a call, today!

#commercial gates in los angeles #garage door repair in los angeles #garage door repair expert los angeles #emergency garage door repair near me los angeles

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oftenwantedafton · 4 months

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the new hire | steve raglan x female reader

rating | explicit

part 2/?

words | 2.4k

ao3 link

You arrive at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza with one minute to spare.

You had tried and failed to sleep all afternoon as the career counselor had suggested, the elusive slumber finally claiming your restless body moments before it had been time to get up and get ready. You shower quickly, then brush your teeth and get dressed. You’re not certain exactly what Steve Raglan considers ‘appropriate’ attire, but your feel black slacks and another white blouse, this one buttoned properly, seem suitable.

The restaurant is on the outskirts of town, a sprawling structure that looks as if it has seen better days, the once bright primary colors of the exterior faded from prolonged exposure to the sun and the elements. Some sort of stubborn vine thrives despite the less than ideal circumstances, a sinister growth that crawls wildly all over the building, spidery strokes of menancing looking crimson leaves that remind you of blood vessels. It is the only living thing existing in that parking lot, the other weeds and wild vegetation that had begun the assault of reclamation dead, brown, withered; it is as if the second they touch any part of that property they are doomed, instantly terminated.

There’s a car parked out front, and your own soon joins it. The automobile has the look of something old as well, though it is in much better repair than your own vehicle that is beyond second hand, changing owners many times, a cheap used car that’s more rust than anything at this point, the salt on the roads during the harsh winters taking their toll on the body. Still, it functions, getting you from point A to point B and back again, and that’s really all that matters.

You spy the career counselor still inside his car, his gaze apparently fixed on the establishment until you arrive. Then you feel those eyes watch as you hit the brakes and shift gears to park, unfastening your seatbelt and sliding from behind the wheel. You hope he hasn’t been waiting long. You feel certain you’ll be reprimanded for it.

The street lamps on the property are still active, but the light they shed doesn’t quite seem to touch you, or the man that emerges from the vehicle beside yours. There’s an ominous aura about the place, a palpable feel of something very, very wrong.

Steve doesn’t return the greeting you offer, merely striding towards the pizzeria, leaving you to catch up, hurrying across the broken, crumbling asphalt. There is a steel gate blocking the front doors. He wordlessly holds up a keyring as you draw closer, indicating which key will unseal this barrier, then repeats the process for the glass doors of the entrance after he’s dragged the gate aside. The keyring is then held out for you to take, the older man letting the bits of metal dangle from his index finger in a makeshift sort of hook.

You swipe for the loop and he pulls his arm back, making you move closer to him. The long arm stretches far above your head, above your reach. That smile is back, that cruel curve of wickedness reminding you of just how at his mercy you are. He drops the keyring, accidentally/on purpose, and you’re forced to crouch down to retrieve it.

It occurs to you now that you’re at his feet, much as you’d fantasized about earlier that day in his office. You look up and he looks down and there is so much distance between you, so much more than just that physical measurement separating the two of you. He shoves at the door and you rise, not entirely trusting this narrow space he’s allotted you to enter. Surely the door opens further than that. Intentional, no doubt, yet to any casual observer it would simply seem as if your companion was politely in the process of holding the door open for you.

You have no choice but to make the attempt, wedging yourself through that gap, your breasts brushing across his chest as you go. You don’t dare try to make eye contact, instead focusing on the dimly lit interior of the establishment.

You clear the social worker’s body and he follows you closely, the door swinging closed with a very loud bang, the jaws of the entrance snapping shut. Strange to use that analogy. You’re not sure why you’d thought it.

“Welcome to Freddy’s,” a rusted voice says beside you, but you do not feel welcome at all.

Your initial impression is that you’ve entered some kind of mausoleum. Not based off of its appearance of course, from what little you can discern in the gloom; but the overall feel of the place. You can smell the dust that stirs into the air, lifting because of your footsteps. Everything echoes strangely. It feels wrong to be here, disturbing this quiet.

“This place was a hit back in the eighties. Too bad you weren’t living around here back then to see it in its full glory,” Raglan adds, moving confidently forward into the dining area. You hurry to keep up. You don’t want to be alone in this dark place. “Arcade, animatronics, inexpensive pizza and cold beer, this place was the destination for adults and kids alike.” His voice carries confidently, sounding a bit theatrical, as if he’s trying to sell you on the idea of the establishment’s former appeal.

“Why did it close?”

Steve either doesn’t hear you or chooses to ignore your question, leading you now through another set of doors, this time letting you manage them yourself. It’s as if he’s impatient, now that he’s inside. Eager. Your path is lit by some faint crimson glow, making the already disturbing environment seem even more unfriendly. You walk past an open doorway and catch a glimpse of what must be the kitchen, stainless steel counters and appliances hulking further back. There is a large area that looks like some sort of storage center, the shelves loaded with objects you can’t quite make out in the shadows.

There is no tour of any of these rooms. Instead you’re directed to a panel on the wall, the switch for the power dragged upward with a resolute sounding clank. Light immediately blossoms and you feel a sense of relief. It is still not nearly as bright as you would like, but the fluorescent bulbs that hum above are a vast improvement from the eerie red of the emergency lighting.

Steve turns and begins walking again and it strikes you how fresh and alert he looks. He should, by all rights, be tired after working all day. But his steps are brisk and full of energy. The eyes that rove over you as you enter the security office you’re guided to are bright and sharp. You wished you had slept more. You wished you weren’t going to be left alone in this shuttered building once the career counselor departs for the evening after your orientation is complete. You wished for many things, that first night, and none of them are what you should have been asking, pleading, begging for.

“The switch I just showed you might need to be flipped during the course of your shift. The electricity is a bit fickle. The controls for the cameras are here. Don’t touch them,” Raglan warns, as if you’d even have the first clue of how to operate them. You admit as much and he snorts derisively. “Of course you don’t.”

“Why did you give me this position?” The query sounds bitter in your own ears.

“Because no one else wants it. Because it is the only job someone with your checkered past can accept.” He seems unreasonably pleased with this last statement, his eyes flicking to the black and white patterned linoleum that covers most of the restaurant’s flooring, save that carpeted area in front of the stage and the arcade, before returning to your face. Mocking you again. Amused by his own pun, made at your expense.

“What am I supposed to do?”

He clucks his tongue and sighs. “You watch these,” he taps the top of one of the monitors and the footage captured on the screen flickers, “and you don’t let anyone in.”

“Who would want to come in?”

“Vagrants. Thieves. Thrill seekers. Freddy’s is still popular, it just attracts a different type of clientele these days.”

“What do I do if someone tries to break in? Call the police?”

“No. You call me.” He withdraws a leather billfold from his pants pocket and extracts a business card, grabbing a pen from his shirt pocket to scrawl a number on the reverse side, then drops it onto the battered desk the stacked monitors rest on.

“You want me to call you in the middle of the night?”

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“Shouldn’t I be alerting the authorities?”

“No. I have my own intimate connections with the law enforcement in this town.”

You don’t understand what he’s implying, but you can hear something buried in those words. What did he have on the police, that they were so subservient and indebted to him? He was just a social worker, wasn’t he?

Seeing your expression, he seems to sense your puzzlement. “Don’t think too much about it. It’s not your concern. All you need to worry about is watching the monitors until dawn.”

“What about doing rounds? Shouldn’t I be checking—”

“—You do exactly as I tell you to and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?” His voice has lowered an octave. Maybe two. There is no longer any trace of jovial teasing or calm reassurance. You’ve worn right through his patience in mere minutes. You’re disappointing him again. Misbehaving. Making a bad impression.

You nod frantically, your head motions exaggerated, your trembling fingers clutching the office chair for support. You needed to make this work. You’d changed jobs and addresses so many times now. You wanted to settle. You were tired of wandering, trying to find a place to fit in. You don’t feel welcome here, but it seems like your last chance. You can’t squander it.

“Say it. Out loud. Confirm that you understand my instructions.”

“I watch the monitors until dawn. I call you if someone tries to break in.”

“Good girl.” The praise sends a sizzle through your abdomen, at odds with the shiver running down your spine. You hate this man. You want him. Your body and mind can’t reconcile these conflicting ideas, clashing somewhere in the middle. “Have a seat. You have a long shift ahead of you.”

You comply, pulling the chair out from under the desk and sinking down into it. It’s cloth, padded but worn looking. Not much more comfortable than the seat you’d occupied in his office that morning. You watch as he returns the pen to his shirt pocket and the wallet to his pants, pausing when his fingers brush something in its depths. He withdraws what you think at first might be a quarter, but it’s the wrong color. The normally platinum shade is instead brassy. A little larger than that standard currency, too. He flicks it into the air and catches it neatly on the top of his hand, sending it rolling down his knuckles and then back up again, a shining waterfall working in reverse. He flips it back into the air, aiming it towards you and you manage to catch it, clutching the round metal piece in your palm. Your fingers uncurl and you can see what it is now: a token for the arcade bearing the image of, well a bear (Raglan might appreciate that little bit of humor, but you’re not brave enough to test it out) that is the lead mascot and namesake of the establishment. You offer it back to him but he shakes his head.

“Keep it. Consider it a souvenir. I’ll lock the doors on my way out. Don’t forget to lock up after you leave in the morning.”

“I won’t forget to lock up in the morning,” you parrot back to him. The lack of praise this time is more disappointing than you care to admit. “How are you going to lock the doors behind you? I have the keys now.”

“Those are copies. I have the originals.” You don’t even have time to ponder why a social worker might be in possession of such items when his fingers close over the back of the chair, turning you to fully face him. He leans towards you, drawing closer but still not close enough. Your skin itches, your limbs ache. You’ve never been more afraid. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly in your entire pitiful existence. “I’ll leave your uniform here before your next shift.” You can’t imagine what possible difference it could make. Who would ever see it? The would-be criminals? “You didn’t sleep today, did you?” The hand not occupying the back of your seat lifts, one thumb dragging across your cheekbone in an oddly tender gesture, underlining the almost bruised looking crescent beneath your eye. His second touch, after the handshake in his office, and already you want more.

“I tried. I couldn’t.”

“You’ll adjust. Don’t fall asleep on the job.”

“How would anyone know?” You’re suddenly wondering if there aren’t more cameras you don’t know about. But that would be insane, right? Someone monitoring the guard monitoring the restaurant? Where did the chain end? An ouroboros, chasing its own tail.

“I’ll know,” he breathes. You nearly whimper when his hand leaves your face. You wish he would touch you in other places. “Have a good night.” He releases the chair and straightens, adjusting the tie that has partially bunched up against the tie bar securing it in place.

Then he leaves the room and you are alone, watching his departure on the screens, your eyes seemingly meeting across that distance when he looks in the exact direction the camera faces just before he exits. You wonder how he knows where to look, but you never remember to ask. You do not question why a career counselor is so intimately acquainted with a closed pizzeria. You just follow his instructions, watching the monitors with eyes that grow heavier and heavier, your earlier misgivings dissipating. Nothing happens that first night. Morning comes and you lock the doors behind you and return home, gratefully flopping into your bed.

It’s the second night that brings the first signs of trouble.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #fnaf movie #divider @cafekitsune

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kesshavx · 4 months

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☞︎︎︎Kishibe x daugter reader *platonic*

☞︎︎︎Warnings:mention of blood,death,some gore(?),fights and angst

☞︎︎︎Synopsis:In a world where danger lurks in the shadows, a father's protective instincts clash with his daughter's rebellious spirit.....

The sun was setting on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the training grounds where Denji and Kishibe were sparring. Denji's muscles ached with each strike, but he pushed through the pain, determined to impress his mentor.

As they took a break, Denji's curiosity got the better of him. "Kishibe, do you ever cry?" he asked, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Kishibe paused, his gaze distant. "I don't know," he replied cryptically, the weight of unspoken emotions lingering in the air.

Meanwhile, in a distant part of the city, Y/N sat in her room, the echoes of a heated argument with her father still ringing in her ears. Kishibe's strict rules and overprotectiveness had driven a rift between them, leaving Y/N feeling suffocated and misunderstood.

The next day, as Y/N walked through the school gates, she noticed a flyer for a devil hunting club. Ignoring her father's warnings, she joined the club, seeking solace in the thrill of danger and the promise of freedom.

Months passed, and Y/N found herself leading the club with unwavering determination. They faced countless devils, each battle leaving scars on their bodies and souls. But nothing could prepare them for the fateful day when a powerful devil emerged, shattering their illusions of invincibility.

The club members fell one by one, their screams echoing through the desolate streets. Y/N, bloodied and bruised, stood alone against the monstrous devil, her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline.

In a desperate bid for survival, Y/N launched herself at the devil, her movements fueled by a mixture of defiance and despair. The devil's claws tore through her flesh, leaving a deep gash across her face, a cruel mirror of Kishibe's own scar.

As Y/N lay on the ground, her vision blurred with pain and exhaustion, she felt a sense of bitter resignation wash over her. She knew this was the end, the price she had to pay for defying her father's wishes.

Just as darkness threatened to consume her, Denji and Power arrived, their presence a beacon of hope in the grim chaos. With a surge of newfound strength, they unleashed their powers, engaging the devil in a fierce battle that shook the very foundations of the city.

Kishibe arrived on the scene, his stoic facade crumbling in the face of his daughter's sacrifice. Tears welled up in his eyes, silent witnesses to the anguish and regret that had haunted him for so long.

Denji and Power watched in stunned silence as Kishibe knelt beside Y/N, his trembling hands reaching out to touch her blood-stained face. In that moment of raw vulnerability, the walls that had divided them crumbled, leaving only the shattered remnants of a family torn apart by fate and circumstance.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a shadow over the battlefield, Kishibe's anguished cries pierced the silence, a haunting lament for a love lost and a bond broken beyond repair.

#csm kishibe #kishibe x reader #chainsaw man kishibe #kishibe smut #csm art #csm spoilers #csm denji #csm fanart #csm #mha leaks #ui ui jujutsu kaisen #chainsaw man

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