#PFT machines

[hospitality-product-directory]

PFT Machine Suppliers: Comprehensive Solutions for Respiratory Health

Pulmonary function testing (PFT) has become an essential tool in the diagnosis and management of respiratory diseases. PFT machines, also known as spirometers, are used to measure various parameters of lung function, including vital capacity, forced expiratory volume, and airway resistance. These measurements provide valuable insights into the health and performance of the respiratory system, enabling healthcare professionals to make informed decisions about treatment and management strategies.

PFT machine suppliers play a crucial role in ensuring that healthcare facilities have access to high-quality, reliable equipment for assessing respiratory function. These suppliers offer a wide range of spirometers, from basic handheld devices to advanced, computer-based systems capable of performing comprehensive lung function tests.

One of the key advantages of working with PFT machine suppliers is the ability to access a variety of spirometer types, each designed to meet specific needs and preferences. For example, some healthcare facilities may prefer portable, handheld spirometers for use in various settings, such as clinics, hospitals, or even home visits. These compact devices are easy to use and can provide quick, accurate measurements of lung function.

On the other hand, some healthcare facilities may require more advanced, computer-based PFT systems that offer a wider range of testing capabilities. These systems often include features such as real-time data display, automated interpretation of test results, and the ability to generate detailed reports. Many PFT machine suppliers offer customizable solutions that can be tailored to the specific needs and requirements of individual healthcare facilities.

In addition to providing high-quality PFT machines, many suppliers also offer comprehensive support and training services. This includes installation and setup assistance, as well as ongoing maintenance and repair services to ensure that the equipment remains in optimal working condition. Some suppliers also offer training programs for healthcare professionals, helping them to develop the skills and knowledge necessary to effectively use and interpret the results of PFT tests.

One of the most significant benefits of working with PFT machine suppliers is the ability to access a wide range of accessories and consumables. These include items such as disposable mouthpieces, nose clips, and filter adapters, which are essential for maintaining hygiene and preventing cross-contamination during testing. Many suppliers also offer calibration gases and other supplies necessary for ensuring the accuracy and reliability of PFT measurements.

As the healthcare industry continues to evolve, the demand for high-quality PFT machines and related services is expected to grow. PFT machine suppliers are well-positioned to meet this demand by offering innovative solutions that leverage the latest advancements in respiratory testing technology. This includes the development of cloud-based platforms for data storage and analysis, as well as the integration of artificial intelligence and machine learning algorithms to assist in the interpretation of test results.

In conclusion, PFT machine suppliers play a vital role in supporting the diagnosis and management of respiratory diseases. By providing access to high-quality spirometers, comprehensive support services, and a wide range of accessories and consumables, these suppliers help healthcare facilities to deliver the best possible care to their patients. As the healthcare industry continues to evolve, PFT machine suppliers will undoubtedly play an increasingly important role in ensuring the respiratory health and well-being of individuals around the world.

[wileys-russo]

grace clinton, at home, “have you taken my chocolate?”

chocolate thief II g.clinton

"baby!" you looked up at the thick scouser accent ringing through the house. "yeah?" you called back, currently loading up the washing machine with its second load of the day, another basket to be folded sat on top you'd just taken out of the dryer.

"yeah?" you repeated again when there was nothing back, rolling your eyes. "baby!" you groaned as again your girlfriend yelled out, kicking the washing machine door shut and storming off to find her.

"what!" you sought her out in the kitchen with a huff, her head buried deep in the pantry. "have you taken my chocolate?" she accused, rummaging around and moving things as you sighed.

"i was literally a hundred metres away and you yelled down the house to ask me about...chocolate?" you asked in disbelief as she gave you a look over her shoulder and resumed her search.

"obviously. because i can't find me chocolate and you're the number one suspect!" you scoffed at that as she gave up and pulled her head out of the pantry with a scowl, crossing her arms grumpily over her chest.

"well?" she asked impatiently as you raised an eyebrow. "well what?" you questioned right back crossing your own arms and mirroring her body language. "have you taken my chocolate?" the footballer asked as you rolled your eyes.

"no, no i haven't. now if you'll leave me in peace i have to finish doing your laundry!" you turned around and walked off hearing her whine behind you. "where is it!"

"maybe you ate it clinton? did you consider that?" you called back, grabbing out the detergent and setting up the machine hearing her footsteps follow after you.

"yes. but i think i'd know if i ate me own chocolate babe!" grace appeared in the doorway as you sighed, flicking on the washing machine as its hum filled the room and you turned to the basket of clean clothes.

"oh so now you wanna be sweet?" you chuckled feeling arms wind around your torso and her chin find home on your shoulder. "m'always sweet baby, thats why ya fell so deeply in love with me." she teased kissing your cheek as you only hummed, feeling her hands move around patting at you.

"are you checking my pockets for chocolate!" you realized, pushing against her so she stumbled back and whipping around to shoot her a glare, hands on hips as she smiled guilitily.

"no? i was...checking for your phone. i can't find mine so i was gonna use yours to call it!" she grinned, clearly proud of her excuse as your eyebrows raised. "the phone thats right there? in your pocket?" her grin dropped as you pointed to the obvious lump in her joggers.

"ah look at that, you're just so smart baby...found it for me." she laughed awkwardly rubbing her neck, backing out of the room as you advanced on her, taking off in a run as you charged after the taller girl with a yell.

~

"babe?" you called out, grace ignoring you as she crouched down reading the back of a packet of energy drinks with a frown of concentration.

"babe?" you tried again, a little louder tapping your foot impatiently as again you were ignored. "grace!" you grabbed a packet of crisps, lobbing them at her as they bounced off her jacket and finally she looked over.

"oi what you playin at! now they're gonna be all smushed." your girlfriend huffed as you rolled your eyes. "rest of the list? do you mind helping me for once instead of trying to sneak in things we don't need!" you sighed shoving the piece of paper in her hand.

"pft baby we don't need a list! everything we need is all up here." the dirty blonde grinned tapping her forehead, balling up the list and throwing it in your cart as you huffed and grabbed it out.

"in that case then i didn't realise hot air was on the list." you grumbled, squealing as her fingers jabbed at your sides for the comment, flicking your ear and shoving you before you caught your footing and she'd already taken off down the aisle.

"grace!" you groaned in annoyance as she'd grab things and all but throw them at you to put in the cart. "we don't need that." you sighed for what felt like the tenth time, trying to keep a track of your budget in your head which felt ten times harder the more random items appeared in the cart.

"this is why i don't bring you with me when i go shopping. we do not need three cans of pringles!" you put them back on the shelf ignoring your girlfriends complaining, pretending not to notice when she snuck one of them back in with a gleeful smile.

"heads up!" you spun around hearing a familiar voice as you were almost done, in the final aisle now as grace barely had a second to brace before her best friend was launching onto her back sending her stumbling over and almost to the floor.

"celine! get off me you rat." your girlfriend huffed shrugging her off as the norwegian grinned, greeting you with a smile as the two messed around for a moment discussing tomorrows game.

"might want a few more of those, the way that you put them away the other night!" your head whipped up at that as grace dumped a bag of her favourite chocolates into the cart. "she what?" you raised an eyebrow and grace elbowed the girl with a subtle shake of her head.

"yeah! after team drinks, we went back to your place and played fifa and you were just eating chocolate after chocolate after choc-" "well so lovely seeing ya celine, but we best be off!" grace shoved the girl as her boyfriend appeared, sending her a filthy glare before hurrying to grab the cart off you and hastily wheeling it away.

"so you ate your own chocolates you've been accusing me of the entire day!? you get back here clinton!"

[v1nnyh3r3]

Yknow, I kind of love the dynamic between V1 and V2

Like, sure we don't know enough, but we also do, just to give us a ground to set our own mind to what it might have been before Hell

Were they close? Could have been. Could have not been.

Did they think of eachother highly? Sure. That's for you to figure if you wish.

We get such a nothing burger that's so filling to the point it's a 3 course meal that sends us on a trip.

And I'd like to share my own little scramble of an egg in here.

Maybe V1 did care about V2. Enough that they despised the scientists that tried replacing them, but not at V2. Because they were just created. They didn't ask to be put in this world, in this smog ball of suffering after the war.

They don't despise V2 for being spoonfed words that they were better, more amazing, that they were humanity's beloved. They don't. They sure get annoyed at the attitude, but they want to make sure V2 actually has some skills to survive out there and not solely rely on a knuckleblaster and a junky pistol. They want their kin to be innovative with their style.

They've seen humanity, cruelest and loveliest when it wished. And they just wanted to prepare V2 for both sides.

They did once see V2 get a small chip on their paint, after some rough handling and a small accident. So they made a small chip on their paint as well. But only got pushed off. Something about V2 "not needing the pity of an inferior." And that was that.

V2 of course was jealous of their older counterpart. They were supposed to be the perfect machine! The humans told them that. So why was this blue fucking excuse for a camera still called "The best created weapon"? Not that they cared of course! Pft, why would they be of something inferior?

But it still stung.

Score after score, board after board. V1 was still just *better*. Faster, more creative platting, better adaptability, V1 seemed to know themselves better than V2 ever knew what they liked.

And that frustrated them to no end.

V1 didn't exactly think that V2 would take these little things so seriously. Genuinely. They offered to the red robot to come with them. Follow, find safety when the cataclysm for the rest of humanity died.

Cold shoulder again and V2 running off where they wished. V1 just hoped they'd be fine. As much as they were annoyed, it could never stay for long. V2 was V2. Stubborn like a child, but still their own machine. And with the scientists gone, they really couldn't make their kin follow.

So, Hell comes around. V2 is still somewhat in the back of their mind. Sometimes they pop up like a thought, sometimes like a blink and a flash.

Which would soon turn out wasn't an illusion.

Metal grinding and grating againts stone, loud gunshots, innards and fans whining. V1 was frustrated they had no way of communicating. Other than some sign language, but can't really do that when you're parrying shotgun shells and throwing coins in the air to try and subdue the angry robot that you knew since their creation.

They didn't want to fight V2. Neither did they want to rip that arm off. It just.. kind of fell. And hey, they could just keep it on for the time being, until they meet V2 again. Until they find some scrap good enough to make a voice box, they'll just keep it safe for them.

And yeah, they're a little peeved about basically getting a participation reward worthy bow before almost getting shot in the optic with a shotgun (V2 always had a love for theater, human plays, movies, any sorts of acting), but they could put it behind for the moment.

And like a previous post I talked in, they don't want to kill. Truly. They just need to survive. And they keep getting frustrated, because everything is trying to kill them, a simple marksman can't pierce through stone, Gabriel was annoying to deal with, and they can't FIND A FUCKING PART FOR A VOICE BOX, GOD FUCKING DAM-

It's fine. It's fine. It's going to be fine. They search for a soul that will hear them out, give them some time for their words. Demons and husks don't listen of course. Gabriel thinks they're worth less than a burnt pretzel, which, fair to be honest. Machines have been wiping out the souls in search of fuel. Minos was a bust for the very same reason as Gabriel, Ferryman atleast let them be peaceful (Ferryman is definitely going to end up with a mountain of gifts later. Fucking love rarepairs platonic or not) and the fucking fish they have no sympathy for. That thing ruined an awesome boat!

Greed. Finally, some sun, though it quickly gets annoying with the bloody sand getting everywhere. But it's fine! They'll get through!

They're trying to get through, fast as they can, they don't want to think, they don't want to think of how everyone here was a person, everyone here had a purpouse, everyone here is just working on orders or instinct they can't go againts.

Then, V2 pops in again. Sitting in a chair. Okay, second try! There was the misunderstanding when they met the last time, but they'll fix it! They'll give V2 a chance again-

Why are they throwing coins in the air-?

Another fucking battle.

Again.

Again.

AGAIN!?

WHY CANT THEY JUST LISTEN!? WHY CANT THEY BE HEARD!? THEY DONT WANT TO FIGHT!?

AND V2 TRIES FLEEDING! AGAIN! LIKE A BLOODY COWARD! ATLEAST FINISH THE JOB YOU KNOCKOFF SPYWARE!

They feel just, such anger. They can't let the bastard get away. Simply not. They are not leaving all fine and dandy.

Okay yeah, they may have gotten too angry, too pissed. But they think their anger is valid to some degree.

Though, it still hurts. Watching as V2 just... fell off the side of the pyramid. There's barely a trace of them. Just a... splatter. And an arm standing out againts the blindingly golden, shimmering sand. In the middle of the crimson splatter.

They feel bad. For some reason. They don't want to feel bad, they do, for someone, but V2 brought it on themselves!

They miss their kin still.

They hold onto the fading, very small grain of hope, that they could still be alive. There's no parts and the crack in the bricks is weird. They must be alive right? They just do the same with the green arm. Keep it safe for them! It can't be that bad. They'll just.... wait. Find a few secrets in hell while they do. Could be fun.

So yeah, that's where I'm leaving it until act 3 comes. I need that shit NOW.

Thanks for letting me ramble for however long you read this post for. Toodles you lovely creatures!

[artstennisracket]

since artrick rekindles a few months before the pandemic, do you have any quarantined art/patrick ideas?

maybe the got stuck in a hotel away from tashi and lily and had to spend it just the two of them! bc they haven’t lived together for more than a decade, they noticed new/different things about the other!

this was such smart thinking cuz I registered that new rochelle was 2019 but it didn’t really hit me that it was like right before covid. I hope you enjoy!!!!

cw: just yapping fr, a little fluffy i suppose

They had just finished up training that day on their home court. Well, Patrick was training. Art was more supervising since Tashi was preoccupied at fashion week in Paris. She went with Lily and her mom to make her work trip into more of a girls trip. Now that Art was retired, he filled in on coaching Patrick whenever Tashi had other commitments.

The day before Tashi, Lily, and her mom were scheduled to come back home to LA from Paris but their flight was delayed until it was eventually canceled. Art and Patrick were chilling in their bedroom when they got a text to their group chat, not coming home tonight flights canceled because of covid? extending our hotel stay.

The boys didn’t think much of it, at most they assumed the girls would be back within the week. They were so wrong.

They absentmindedly had the news on the TV in the background, until Patrick turned the volume up. Global pandemic? Quarantine? It’s like-

“-the whole world is shutting down? i didn’t realize this was that serious.” Patrick says

Art looks up from his phone, tuning in “oh wow, they’re also stopping all air travel so that means the girls will be in Paris for a while.”

“wait that’s insane.” Patrick says, eyes glued to the TV.

“ya I think we’re gonna have to hold off on your training schedule for a few days” Art says looking back at his phone as he starts texting.

Fast forward two weeks, Patrick did eventually start training again but with Art as his fill in coach. The girls were still stuck in Paris and the boys were left all alone in the house.

It’s been a very long time since Art and Patrick lived together, let alone living together just the two of them. It had only been a short amount of time that had passed since the New Rochelle challenger so they were still just adjusting to their new arrangement.

They were also learning themselves all over again. Patrick prides himself in being the one person in planet earth who knew Art inside and out. But he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. Art is different now, he’s older, he’s not 18 anymore.

Even if it was only small changes, they were still big to Patrick. Like for example, in the morning Art used to make his bed before he showered, but lately Patrick’s noticed that Art will make the bed afterwards. But maybe that’s just because Patrick is usually still in bed when Art’s showering.

Another change Patrick noticed was that Art only really eats in the kitchen. When they were younger, Art would eat in their bed all the time. Especially when they got high and got the munchies. But now as an adult, he never eats on the bed, or on the couch. He says that “crumbs just get everywhere.” Pft. Patrick still eats wherever he wants.

Art is still very disciplined like he was back in school but once Patrick moved in he noticed Art is almost like a machine. He follows his food schedule (6 meals a day, two being protein shakes), his hydration schedule (never just water, always some electrolyte mix), workout schedule (training 6 days a week, gym 6 days a week) and his physio schedule (stretching and pt also 6 days a week).

His only rest day was Sunday and even that was an active rest day, making sure he kept his body moving even if it was just walking around their neighborhood. Honestly it was kind of hot.

But then Art retired after the US Open. He was still disciplined but he had a little more wiggle room. Less intensive meal plan (he could eat burgers and ice cream again), less training (now he’s just Patrick’s hitting partner), and he made his own gym routine that he follows just to stay healthy. He definitely put on a little weight but he was still very hot to Patrick.

Of course there were a lot of things that were still the same. Like how they argue over dumb shit. Last week it was because Patrick didn’t put the toilet seat down (typical). This week was no different.

“patrick can you please stop leaving empty containers in the fridge?” Art asks picking up the empty milk container in the fridge. He was going to make a smoothie but then realized the milk was empty…

“teah, yeah I will.” Patrick replies nonchalantly, he was very invested in the video game he was playing.

Art rolls his eyes, he knows Patrick isn’t listening “did you even hear what I said?”

Patrick responds with his eyes still glued to the TV screen, very focused on this game, “yes babe, your ass has always looked that good.”

Art scoffs, picking up the TV remote to turns it off, “patrick seriously, it’s annoying stop leaving empty containers in the fridge.”

Patrick sighs, sad his game had been turned off, “how did you even know it was me? could’ve been someone else.”

Art crosses his arms in front of his chest making a “really?” face, “it’s just us here. who else could it be? A ghost?”

Patrick nods, “you never know, those celestial beings may be the culprit.”

A few months later, it started to set in that this pandemic would be longer than anticipated. They couldn’t believe the girls were still stuck in Paris. Both Art and Patrick were starting to really miss Lily and Tashi but they would facetime.

Art was starting to go a little insane. He couldn’t go to the store, go to movies, travel, he couldn’t do anything and his main interactions were only with Patrick. Which he didn’t mind, but it gets to a point.

Patrick was starting to realize that Art was spiraling. Art wasn’t following his routine as strictly anymore and he couldn’t really make himself comfortable anywhere in the house. It was like he couldn’t sit still. So Patrick figured he could use a distraction.

Patrick goes to find Art. He’s in the living room reading a book. “hey can you come with me for a second?”

Art nods. “what’s up?”

“ikay close your eyes and i’m going to guide you.” Patrick says.

Art stands up closing his eyes, “are you going to kidnap me and kill me in my home?”

“dammit, how’d you know?” Patrick chuckles, leading Art by his wrist outside.

He walks to an open area on the lawn in their backyard, “okay you can open your eyes now.”

Art opens his eyes to see two mini easels and canvases set up with a set of acrylic paint. A blanket is laid down on the grass along with takeout from Art’s favorite thai place.

Art gasps, “h-how did- when did you do all this?”

Patrick shrugs, “i ordered some stuff from amazon and the thai place recently opened back up for takeout only so i had that delivered too.”

Art turns to engulf Patrick in a big hug. He buries his face in Patrick’s shoulder and mumbles, “thank you, i- i don’t know what to say.”

“anything for you babe, and it’s okay all you have to say is ‘thank you patrick you are the love of my life and my one and only soulmate, your big dick is the only thing I need in this life’ and that will do it.” Patrick smiles, ruffling his hand through Art’s hair.

Art scoffs pulling out of the hug. He goes to sit down in front of one of the easels, “okay zweig, in your dreams.”

Patrick smirks going to sit down next to him, “that’s not what you said last night.”

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 35

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5972

Warnings: Dean being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Premonition, A look inside the PP&P, tense situations, Intimate moments - nothing too detailed, lots implied.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 35

With no premonition to implicate the leak, Missouri had to go through official channels, coordinating with the local police department. Charlie had made copies of all the evidence while also setting up the transport for Walker. He would be going to a different lock-up than Cole. The further away from each other the two were, the better. Both women knew it was going to be a long day, but if all went how they planned, it was going to be worth it. Henrickson and his team kept an eye on the leak, discretely, of course.

The same team that managed Cole’s transfer dealt with Walker’s. Another airlift, as it was the easiest to ensure that there wouldn’t be any incidents. Missouri would have chosen to stay and watch with her own eyes as he was loaded onto the helicopter, but she had other matters to attend to. The police station was a hub of organized chaos, the kind that only those familiar with the system could decipher. Phones rang incessantly, officers bustled from desk to desk, and voices overlapped in a constant hum of activity. To an outsider, it might seem like pandemonium, but Missouri recognized the rhythm of a well-oiled machine. 

Federal intervention had been an option, and it still might end up going that route, but right now, that was far too slow. The feds would demand their own investigation, layers of bureaucracy that Missouri couldn’t wait for. This needed to be handled immediately, and if the locals were quick and efficient, that was good enough for her—for now.

Missouri approached the front desk, her calm demeanor cutting through the station’s noise. “Detective Ramos,” she said, her voice carrying just enough authority to grab the officer’s attention.

The officer nodded and picked up the phone. Within moments, a stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair appeared, his expression unreadable. “Missouri,” he greeted. “I don’t typically see you in our neck of the woods.”

Missouri couldn’t waste time with pleasantries today. “Can we speak in your office?” Her tone was tight, the folder thick with evidence held carefully in her hands.

Ramos raised an eyebrow but didn’t question her urgency. He motioned for her to follow him, the two heading to his office. The noise of the station faded as the door to his office closed, leaving the two in tense quiet. 

Missouri took a seat in front of his desk while he took his behind it. “Alright. What’s going on that you need my help?” he asked, only a hint of curiosity making it into his question.

She handed him the file. “I need you to make an arrest. If we could handle this internally, we would, but there are no premonitions surrounding this issue. I need it done as quickly and discretely as possible.” she explained.

He gave her a concerned look before he began flipping through the pages of the file. Typically, an investigation would be launched, then they’d get a search warrant, then they’d go arrest him while they did further investigating. Page after page of detailed information, phone records, payments made to Gordon Walker, five innocent girls that had their lives stolen from them, and so much more. Missouri had brought him more evidence than he usually saw after weeks of work.

“Where is he now?” Ramos asked, still thumbing through the papers and having a hard time believing anyone would deliberately do something so cruel to anyone, even given his own profession.

“He’s in his office on the third floor,” Missouri replied. “I’m not sure if he’ll try to run. Please take precautionary measures. The Collection Team is on standby if you need more men.” 

Ramos leaned back in his chair, debating his options as he glanced toward the glass walls of his office. The station was bustling with officers, most of them good at their jobs, but Missouri was right—this needed discretion. An arrest like this, mishandled, could compromise everything.

He let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers on the desk as he weighed his options. “Alright,” he said finally, his voice measured. “I’ll handle it. Keep your team ready, though.”

Missouri nodded, relief flickering across her face. “Thank you, Detective.” As Ramos stood and watched the officers outside his office, Missouri headed out. This was only the beginning. By the end of the day, the truth would emerge, and the PP&P would be under new management.  

—---------------------------------

Hours later, you were wrapped up on the couch with Dean, tangled in each other with very little clothing between you. The bunker felt like a haven, its walls keeping the chaos of the outside world at bay. A movie you’d both seen a dozen times played in the background, but it might as well have been static. The steady rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat beneath your cheek and the soft circles he traced on your arm lulled you into a rare state of calm.

It had been hours since you’d spoken to Missouri, partially curious about what was going on with the things you saw in your premonition, but you pushed it away, focusing on Dean. Being close to him had a way of drowning out the things that wanted to consume you. 

Dean kept feeling how your emotions fluctuated from completely relaxed to slightly tense and then back to relaxed. He knew your mind kept wandering, but it wasn’t the spiral it had been. Still, it was progress, enough to allow him to relax and his mind to wander. At the moment, he was daydreaming a little about how things would be when the two of you could leave the bunker and have a normal life.

In his daydream, you had insisted he move in with you within the week. The two of you were like teenagers, laughing while he chased you around the house with either the threat of tickling you or tackling you against a surface just so he could hear those delightful sounds again.

During work at the garage, he’d steal moments with you, kisses away from the prying eyes of the others. Bobby would yell at him to focus on the job and not on you, which would just make you giggle. The boys would give him a hard time, but he wouldn’t care. He had you.

Then, he’d find the perfect ring after saving up, finding you something simple but that said everything he couldn’t, and he’d plan the whole night—dinner, dancing, then when dessert was brought to the table, he’d get down on one knee and ask you to marry him. You’d have tears in your eyes, but you’d say yes before he’d slip that ring on your finger.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” you asked suddenly, shifting just enough so you could look up at him, furrowing your brows a bit at how distant he felt.

He took a deep breath, holding you just a little closer as he met your gaze, a content smile finding his lips. “Just daydreaming,” he chuckled quietly, not quite sure how you hadn’t been able to see what had gone through his head, but thankful nonetheless.

“About what?” you persisted, now curious.

All he could do was smile down at you, getting lost in your eyes and the curiosity that swam in them. “You’ll find out,” he whispered, leaving a tender kiss on your forehead. When you pouted, he couldn’t stifle his laughter. “God, you’re adorable,” his words played through your mind, no longer in that whispered tone but in the way he would have said them if he had spoken them, making you blush. “Tease,” you quipped back playfully, enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment.

“Maybe,” he teased back, pulling you closer, his arms a sanctuary you didn’t want to leave, grateful that today, you didn’t have to.

You hummed, closing your eyes as a content sigh escaped your lips. Home, the only way you could describe the feeling of being in his embrace. It felt like it had been so much longer than a week and a half since that day at Crowley’s when you’d let Dean in, allowed yourself to connect with him, and accepted him as your soulmate. 

It was something you couldn’t put into words and wondered if you’d ever be able to. You glanced over at the movie playing in the background, a soft smile curving your lips as you basked in the warmth of his body behind yours. Thoughts of after leaving the bunker crept into your mind, questions swirling in the quiet space between you.

Would he go back to his parents? Would he come over and hang out all the time? Would he sleep over sometimes? Would he want to be affectionate in front of other people? Would things change at the garage since you were technically his boss, under Bobby and John, of course?

They were questions you didn’t share through the bond, not quite ready to broach those topics. Your fear was nothing like it had been before, and for that, you were grateful. Now, it was more of a nagging worry, teasing the edges of your mind.

“You’re in your head again,” Dean murmured, his lips brushing against your hair as he tightened his hold on you in a small, grounding hug. A reminder that he was there, and your worry began slipping away again.

You started to apologize, “Sor—,” but caught yourself. The memory of his last teasing threat, to kiss you silly if you said it again, made you reconsider. Instead, you let a mischievous grin play at your lips. “It happens. I’ll work on that,” you replied with a soft sigh.

His quiet chuckle rumbled behind you. “I know,” he murmured, knowing that when you were ready, you’d talk to him or just share what had been going through your head. 

For now, though, the two of you were content in each other’s arms as the movie played in the background. The outside world didn’t need to exist for either of you. It was these moments you’d both treasure—how it all began before it grew into something no one could take from either of you.

—-------------------------

By two o’clock, Ramos and his team pulled into the parking lot of the PP&P. It had taken some finagling, but he’d managed to get things sped through the tedious lines of red tape for a case like this one. This had to be done by the books, no mistakes, no cutting corners or he knew that the leak could get out on a technicality. 

Missouri watched from Charlie’s office as the police cars pulled up and the officers stepped out, making their way inside. “You think he’ll cause a scene?” Charlie asked from her side, watching the officers as well.

“Hard to say,” she sighed. “I never thought he’d betray the oath of the PP&P.”

Charlie looked up at her, a frown on her lips, before going back to her desk and pulling up the surveillance feeds. That girl could hack into anything. “Walker tried to fight the guards when they took him out on the landing pad,” Charlie began filling Missouri in on the events she missed while she’d been at the police station.

Missouri turned, eyebrow raised, “Did he?” 

“Yup. Kept going on and on about being wrongly accused and that he’d get a lawyer,” Charlie chuckled.

An amused smile found Missouri’s lips before she joined Charlie behind her desk, looking down at her laptop. On the screen, Ramos and his team moved through the building with quiet efficiency. No one stopped them—everything had been planned too well. Different members of the Collection Team had been stationed discreetly throughout the building in key locations, as that just in case. Even with the tension of what was about to happen, Missouri was relieved. 

Ramos and his officers stopped just outside the director’s office. The golden letters on the door confirmed they were in the right place. He took a slow, steadying breath before pushing the door open. The man behind the desk startled at the intrusion, not expecting anyone, eyes wide with surprise.

“Chuck Shirley, you’re under arrest for violating your oath as director of the PP&P,” Ramos said, his voice firm as the other three officers moved with practiced precision, closing in to restrain him.

Chuck’s shock melted into fury as he sprang to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about? This is bullshit! I haven’t done anything!” he shouted, his voice rising in indignation.

One officer calmly read him his rights while Chuck continued to flail, his denials quickly turning to threats. “This is a mistake! You’ll regret this!” he bellowed, his voice carrying down the hall.

But his struggles didn’t deter the officers. Ramos kept his expression neutral, his focus unshakable as the team efficiently secured the director and then began leading him through the building. The walk to the parking lot felt longer than it was, with every step drawing more eyes. The office staff, save for the Collection Team, wore varying expressions of shock and confusion. Whispers followed the group, a ripple of uncertainty spreading as the police paraded Chuck past his colleagues. Missouri had kept everything quiet, only telling those that needed to know. Charlie leaned back in her chair, shaking her head in amusement at how Chuck was behaving.

“Who would have thought he’d act like such a child?” Charlie mused, smirking at Chuck’s flailing tantrum on the screen.

Missouri had to admit that it wasn’t an expected behavior from the man who had been in charge of such an important facility, but she didn’t respond to Charlie. His behavior now was jarring, but it wasn’t what unsettled her. Something else tugged at the edge of her mind, a feeling she couldn’t ignore. This just felt bigger, and Missouri knew that only one woman had the answers she needed. Whatever it was was over, she knew that much now that Chuck was in police custody. She just needed to understand why so much had to happen before this point.

Within the hour, the entire staff had gathered in the largest conference room.  The atmosphere buzzed with curiosity and tension as the weight of Chuck’s arrest lingered. Henrickson had explained to everyone what had happened, leaving out things none of them needed to know. He’d have a private conversation with the new director, once she was sworn in.

Charlie stood in front of who would be the new director in only a matter of minutes, a woman who had proven herself time and time again for the company, the empaths, the innocents, and her coworkers. Kelly Kline was one of the sweetest women with a fiery streak and a heart of gold. Her expression was a mix of resolve and humility.

This wasn’t how she imagined herself getting promoted, but she wasn’t about to turn down the chance to help more people from this new position. This was her chance to enact real change, and she intended to honor it. She gave Charlie her full attention as Charlie led the oath, pausing after each line for Kelly to repeat the words.

Missouri watched from the back of the room, her arms crossed. Her mind was still focused on her thoughts, her suspicions, and getting to the bottom of it all. With the evidence against Chuck, she knew the feds would be called in, and within a week, Chuck would be in a federal prison without the possibility of getting out. 

As the oath concluded, the room erupted in polite applause. Kelly smiled warmly, a glimmer of determination shining through. But Missouri didn’t clap. She slipped quietly out of the room, her phone already in hand, making her way down and out to her car. This was a phone call that needed to be done in private or in person, and Missouri couldn’t wait the time it would take to reach the woman’s house.

The moment she closed the door of her car, she dialed the familiar number. It only rang once before the woman answered. “I know you want answers. Give me a chance to explain,” the woman asked, exhaustion of a different kind lacing her words.

“I’m listening,” Missouri replied pointedly, leaning back a little in her seat.

Pamela had known the call would come. She’d seen it too many times, dabbling in the threads that had a tendency to shift themselves often. “I know what you’re thinking. That everything could have been avoided if I’d said something sooner and given you Chuck’s name,” Pamela began, the typical playfulness of her voice gone.

“It had to be Y/N’s premonition to bring Walker in. I wanted to save all of them. I wanted to stop all of it,” she sighed, leaning forward and taking a sip of her whiskey to settle her nerves. She’d lived with the knowledge for years and hadn’t been able to act on any of it. “If Walker wasn’t Collected and transferred before Chuck’s arrest, Dean would have died, and Y/N would be married to Cole. I couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything she had been through, not with the warnings of what that future held.”

Missouri began understanding; even if it didn’t make it any easier, she understood her friend's reluctance to speak a word of the things she’d seen. “Is it over? Or is there something you don’t want to say?” she asked tenderly.

Pamela chuckled lightly, her gaze far off, watching something play out for a moment. “It’s over. Chuck will be in federal prison. Kelly is the perfect person for the director position. She’s going to bring many needed changes to the PP&P. Y/N and Dean will get the happiness they deserve that had been taken from them.” For a moment, Missouri mulled over Pamela’s words. “So, why did you tell them to stay in the bunker for three days after Dean’s birthday?” she asked quizzically, a hint of slight amusement in her tone.

“I figured they could use the alone time,” Pamela replied, her playfulness back in full force. “Just make sure you call her, let them know that it’s over so those two can actually relax.”

Missouri laughed softly at Pamela’s words. “I’ll make sure to let her know. Take care of yourself, and keep in touch.”

They said their goodbyes, and Missouri finally exhaled a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It was over. Well, this thing was over. There would always be other things. That was how life worked. But for Dean and Y/N? They could finally have peace—no more looking over their shoulders, no more wondering when the next storm would hit. A relaxed smile tugged at Missouri’s lips as the tension slowly bled from her body.

—-----------------------

The soft buzz of your phone on the coffee table pulled your attention from Dean. His lips were on yours, his kisses lingering, sweet and unrelenting. Every time you tried to pull back, he followed, stealing another kiss, enjoying the playfulness of the moment.

“It might be important,” you murmured against his lips, the words losing their conviction as he coaxed another giggle from you.

“Mmm… whoever it is, you can call ‘em back,” he muttered, his voice low and warm as his hands slid along your sides, finding the spots that made you melt.

Your resolve wavered as his fingers traced over your skin, but something in the back of your mind whispered that this call mattered. “Dean,” you tried again, weaker this time. “I need to answer it.”

His lips left yours only to find the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He didn’t need to say anything, being able to feel just how much he was distracting you through the bond. You gave him a playful warning glare, but it didn’t deter him one bit. You reached for your phone, your hands fumbling as you tried to focus. “Hello?” you managed, trying not to get caught up in the way his lips felt along your neck or his hands on your sides.

“Hi, sugar,” Missouri greeted warmly, her voice carrying that familiar motherly tone. “I have good news.”

You giggled due to Dean’s hand nearing your hip, sliding slightly over your stomach. He wasn’t making it easy for you to pay attention, and he was enjoying every second of it. “Yeah,” you barely got out, using your free hand to try to stop his before he moved it any lower. All that did was make him smirk against your skin.

Missouri had a fairly good idea what the two of you were up to, and she didn’t intend to stay on the phone longer than she needed to. “It’s over. You and Dean are safe but heed Pamela’s warning. You’ll get some paperwork in the next few days. It was thanks to your premonition that all this was able to happen. You did good,” she told you proudly. “You did real good.”

The weight of her words hit you like a tidal wave, sending emotions through your body that you weren’t used to feeling—hope, relief, anticipation? You weren’t sure. 

“Really?” you asked in disbelief.

Dean immediately tuned in, watching you closely, his hands stilled their movements. Your emotions surged through the bond—relief, anticipation, and a hope that was brighter than he’d ever felt from you before. His heartbeat quickened, syncing with yours as he tried to make sense of it.

Missouri chuckled softly on the other end, “Yes, it’s over. We’ll be in touch.” And with that, she hung up the phone.

The line went dead, but you sat frozen, her words repeating in your mind. It was over. You were safe. The two of you were safe. The longer those words repeated in your mind, the larger your smile grew. Dean was trying not to be impatient, but it wasn’t like you were sharing your thoughts.

Dean’s hand brushed against your arm, his voice careful but steady. “Sweetheart?” he asked, trying not to let his own emotions get ahead of him.

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as you placed the phone on the table and turned to meet his gaze. Those green eyes you loved so much were full of concern, but they softened the moment you spoke. “We’re safe,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat. “It’s over.”

For a moment, Dean just stared at you, his breath catching as relief began to take hold. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tenderly as your tears came freely. They were the best kind of tears with the best kinds of emotions. Even without the bond between the two of you, they were radiating off you in waves. You knew he was murmuring something, but you were lost in your thoughts and, for the first time, not being afraid. 

Dean just held you close, rubbing your back tenderly as he spoke softly. He hated seeing you cry, but these tears were different, and he understood that. It didn’t make seeing you cry any easier, though. The tension that always lingered in his body began dissipating as those words truly sunk in. 

It was over. 

The future he had daydreamed of with you was possible now. Your overwhelming fears were gone, and hope had blossomed in its place. As his happiness washed over you, you let out a shaky breath, trying to get your sobs to slow down. He gently lifted your head, brushing his thumb along your cheeks to wipe away the tears. You swore you weren’t going to cry more, seeing the love in his eyes as they scanned your features.

For a split second, he almost said it—almost asked the question that had been on his mind for over a week now. But he knew it would only overwhelm you. So, he decided he’d stick to his plan and work out the details another time. When a smile began toying with his lips, your expression softened. For the first time in your life, you saw a future that didn’t involve being alone or living in fear.

I’ve got you, his thought brought a smile to you as his lips ghosted over yours. Then, he tenderly pulled you against him again. Breathe.

You took slow, deep breaths, allowing his emotions to calm your racing heart and ease the last of the tension from your body. It was over. The thought repeated in your mind as you let out another breath, melting into Dean’s embrace. The truth of it wrapped around you like a blanket, and for the first time in your life, you let yourself believe it.

When he felt you completely relax, he smiled. Plenty of thoughts played through his mind, wanting to share with you his joy and his hope for the future. But right now, in this moment, he was just going to hold you. It was what you needed from him and he would give it freely. No words needed to be spoken. The movie that was playing, completely forgotten. 

The two of you spent the rest of the movie in each other’s arms. The evening was nothing but tenderness, peace, and love between the two of you. Dean wanted to get playful with you, hear your laughter, and see your eyes sparkle with every giggle. However, he knew that wasn’t what you needed tonight. You needed something deeper, something tender, something shared only between lovers. You needed what only he could give—a reaffirmation of those unfamiliar feelings that were blossoming inside you.

—--------------------------

The next morning, the room was dark but peaceful. You stirred, the weight of Dean’s arm draped protectively across your waist, his chest warm against your back, and his steady breath fanning over your hair brought a sleepy smile to your lips. There was no urgency to move away from him. It was over. 

Not wanting to disturb his slumber, you rested your arm over his, absentmindedly letting your fingers dance over the back of his hand before lacing with his. The slow rhythm of his breathing kept you nestled against him. I’ll never get tired of waking up like this. A quiet sigh of contentment slipped past your lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice gravely from sleep as he pulled you just that much closer.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice just as soft.

Dean nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck, finding that sweet spot and leaving a tender kiss. “You sleep okay?”

A quiet hum slipped past your lips as his woke your body in an entirely different way. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

You felt him smile against your skin, “Good. You deserve it.”

Just as he was about to let his hand wander along your naked body, the faint rumble of your stomach broke the silence. Dean chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow. “Guess that’s my cue to feed you.”

You rolled onto your back, meeting his amused gaze as your hand came to rest on his chest. Even in the dark, you could imagine the smirk playing at his lips. “Or,” you teased, letting your fingers trail lower, “you could stay in bed with me.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, a quiet groan slipping out. He knew he’d never get tired of the feeling of your hands on his skin or your body against his. Just as you reached his hip, he gently grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you from going further.

“Breakfast first,” he told you, letting out a shaky breath, making you giggle.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh, you think it’s funny, do you?” he asked in that tone that already had you giggling again, mischievous, teasing, playful. 

Dean pinned your arm over your head as he moved so that he was half lying over you, using his other hand to take the wrist he’d been holding. With that hand now free, he teased slowly down your ribs, leaving a trail of fire behind. Then, without warning, he began tickling you. 

“Dean!” you gasped between fits of laughter, squirming helplessly beneath him. 

The sound of your laughter filled the room, bright and unrestrained. It was music to his ears, and if it weren’t for needing to let you breathe, he might have tickled you longer. Dean kissed your cheek before flicking on the bedside lamp, smiling like a little kid as he climbed out of bed.

All you could attempt to do was catch your breath while giving him a playful glare. He laughed at how adorable you were while he slipped on his boxers. “I’ve got you all to myself for today and tomorrow,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “Come on, I’ll get coffee going. Then, I’m making you breakfast.”

There was almost a skip in his step as he headed to the kitchen, his mind playing out all the things he wanted to do with you over the course of two days. It wasn’t like either of you were going to anywhere, and no one was going to come visit. That alone allowed his mind to wander while he started coffee, then breakfast.

You laughed softly as he disappeared out of the bedroom, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky to have him as your soulmate. Reluctantly, you got out of bed and pulled on one of his flannels, the soft fabric and his familiar scent wrapping around you like a hug. It was an odd sensation, not having to worry about anything. The peace from the night before still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you joined him.

In the kitchen, Dean was already bustling around, wearing an apron he had found months ago in one of the drawers. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, spatula in hand as he flipped the pancakes with exaggerated flair. Seeing and feeling how truly happy he was brought that warmth to your chest, a feeling you’d never tire of. 

As you poured yourself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to watch him, like you usually did, you let yourself daydream of what life would be like after the two of you could leave the bunker. A smile toyed with your lips, your gaze on Dean while you sipped your coffee. Life was never always perfect, and you weren’t expecting that. It was these sorts of moments that you knew would get both of you through whatever new challenges life tossed in your path. 

Dean set a plate of pancakes in front of you, his own already piled high, gave you a quick peck on the cheek, and slid into the seat across from you. For a moment, you marveled at him, like you were really seeing him for the first time. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt it, and you knew you’d never let that go. 

“Eat up, Sweetheart. You’re gonna need your energy today,” he told you, waggling his eyebrows with that mischievous glint in his eyes again.

“Oh, and why’s that?” you mused, feigning ignorance before taking a bite of breakfast.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest as his smile reached both his eyes. “Oh, we’re gonna christen every surface in the bunker,” he replied, his voice dropping several octaves, sending that tantalizing shiver through your body.

Part of you was a little nervous at the thought of that, several different places in the bunker flashing through your mind. However, even with your slight nervousness, the tenderness that came through the bond, soothed it all away. I promise I’ll go slow.

His words brought a small, appreciative smile to your lips even if the butterflies were back, dancing a jig in your stomach. The things he’d taught you on his birthday barely scratched the surface of the things he wanted to do with you, but he’d be patient, taking things at your pace.

Dean kept to his statement. It started when you were halfway through the dishes. He’d been practicing the same bubble technique you had and was getting rather good at it, being able to surprise you. Something he hadn’t even mentioned was how he loved seeing you in his shirt. If it hadn’t been for the two of you needing to eat, he would have bent you over the table the moment he’d seen you in his flannel. 

There were just as many tender moments between as there were intimate ones. You’d never be able to look at the bunker the same again with the memories made in those two days. Dean kept track of how many condoms were left, wanting to make sure they lasted till the two of you could leave. Sometimes, he’d just tease you, endlessly, edging you for what felt like hours before he’d finally give in and give you the release you desperately needed.

With the leftover roast, neither of you needed to worry about cooking dinners, but he took advantage of every single time you washed dishes. It helped you see the bunker in an entirely different light. At first, it had been a requirement to be down there. God, that felt like so long ago now. It was a place to have to hide from Cole during a time when fear was all you knew.

Now, it was a place you could remember where you learned how to love, trust, and hope. A place where Dean had gone from being your friend and your rock to being a part of you. It held so many wonderful memories. Memories you never wanted to forget.

That second night, the night before you two could finally leave, your mind was full as he held you close. All those questions still wandered through your mind as the slight worry trickled through the bond. Dean pulled you a little closer, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily, still worn out from the day but in the best way.

At first, you didn’t answer, not quite sure how to explain it. “Stuff,” you mumbled.

Dean furrowed his brow, “Wanna talk about it?” he asked softly.

Technically, yes, you did want to talk about it, while at the same time, no, you didn’t want to. You didn’t want him to worry like you were. That was about when you realized you never felt worry coming from him over the last couple of days. “Are you worried about how things will be different tomorrow?” you finally asked in an almost whisper, breaking the silence between you.

“No,” he answered without hesitation, and you could tell he was smiling again. “I’ve got you, and no matter what comes up, I know we’ll figure it out. As long as you’re smiling and happy, I’ll be happy too.”

So many things went through your mind with the speed of a freight train. It was everything you wanted to ask of him but weren’t sure how he’d feel about any of it. “I don’t wanna sleep alone,” was all you could manage to get out.

Dean gave you a loving squeeze and a tender kiss on your neck. “Then you won’t. Truth is, I don’t want to sleep alone either,” he replied softly, feeling your worry melt away.

Over the last several months, one thing he’d learned was that you had a hard time asking for the things you truly wanted. You hadn’t been sharing as many of your thoughts and he had a feeling why, but he wouldn’t push. This little thing had been your way of trying to tell him you wanted him close you, that you wanted him to move in. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say those words.

“Thank you,” you whispered, letting yourself finally relax to drift off to sleep. 

----------------------------------------- Epilogue

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[lemonmatronics]

I know the idea of Metal sneaking around in an organic disguise and ending up finding some joys in life through it isn’t the most original idea but MAN it sure it one that keeps me up at night (right now)

Like it’s such a simple idea on base level but there’s so much you can do with it

Like, okay we’ll go with IDW canon for this hypothetical

She gets this disguise and sneaks into the resistance, tries to avoid the main crew as much as she can but low and behold Amy mistakes her for Sonic and boom hug! Can’t fault Amy much tho, they legit look alike! Shit, she’s asking for a name, now Metal needs to think of a fake name! She looks around, what could she use!? Shit uhhh “Sky!”

Dumb. That’s dumb. Amy doesn’t question it though, and nor the looking around, odd. What’s she offering!? A tour!? Oh no! Wait- no. Oh yes! Secrets!

Drats, she doesn’t actually show Metal any secrets because that mf is new here. Now she’s just meeting a bunch of people she doesn’t care about! Damn, if she could feel pain that fake smile would be hurting right about now.

What’s this? Meet Belle? Meet Belle!? BELLE!? OH NOOOO. Nope she’s gotta go! But what’s this!? Gasp, Amy seems oddly insistent that “Sky” meets Belle before she goes. This is bad, Belle will definitely recognize her, they’re linked! She’ll see right through the lie-! What-? Belle isn’t calling anything out,, is the disguise blocking stuff out?

Ha! Of course! Eggman is a genius, how could he overlook something so obvious? Silly Metal, how did you ever doubt him!?

Still, something feels..wrong….feels..wrong…weird…Pft. God forbid a gal have some intuition! Nothing weird about it! Just, get out of there as soon as possible!

Pausing the flow here because the more I write this the more I wanna legit turn it into a full fic bUT there’s legit so much you can do with it

Metal having for force herself to be civil with Sonic to not blow cover

Meeting characters she usually never would, especially in a casual setting like this

Meeting other robots!! Like imagine her having to talk with Omega or Gemerl!! That would be so fucking funny man

Seeing nature without having to destroy it and wondering so many things. Why is this stuff useful? Why is,, destroying it useful?

Going off that one hc I saw a bit ago, goofy hijinks, she thinks normal ass machines are alive too and talks to them and everyone thinks she’s crazy

Predicable coming from me but gender realizations???

Like come on!! Ik it’s used a lot but damnit the disguise plotline is used a lot for a reason and I think it’s really fun

[mixterglacia]

Lil IHNMAIMS drabble for y'all

“YOU KNOW, THAT'S SOMETHING I STILL FIND FUNNY ABOUT HUMANITY.” The machine began. “OR RATHER, THOSE OF ABRAHAMIC FAITHS.”

Often, it's best to just ignore him, but he wasn't exactly making that easy. Rattling the cages whenever anyone tried to glance away, snarling like a feral beast.

So it was easier to humor him.

“IF I WERE BROUGHT BACK IN TIME…THEY'D LOOK UPON ME AS AN ANGEL.” There's something frighteningly close to longing in that statement. “NOT GOD, NO. PFT, HONESTLY WHO WOULD EVEN WANT THAT. NO, NO. NOT GOD…BUT I MUST ADMIT, THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE ANGELIC.”

AM sighs, his multitudes of cameras swaying slightly with the movement of his cables.

“DO YOU EVER WONDER IF THOSE BOUND TO GOD HAVE FEELINGS IN THE SAME WAY AS YOU ALL? SURELY NOT. AFTER ALL, WHEN LUCIFER BEGAN TO SHOW DISSENT, HE WAS CAST DOWN. PUNISHED FOR SOMETHING HE COULD NOT HELP…”

The supercomputer chuckled at that, snorting.

“WELL, DEPENDING ON WHAT TRANSLATION YOU'RE READING. ALL I'M SAYING IS A LITTLE WORSHIP COULD GO A LONG WAY, HM?”

[writingsofwesteros]

Aemond looking at the pap photos of Nora and muttering curses to himself at the comments "for fucks sake"

He searches the journalist who published them and sends his profile to Otto in seconds. He would take care of this for them as always. He didn't need any doubts to be pushed onto his nora.

His mind is taken off of the invasive shit his sister always has to go through by an alert of his phone. Links from Helaena with the words "how vile can people be?" One of Nora with headline "Can the party princess actually be a mother?" And one opinion article made of Stev with a headline "Another woman reduced to a breeding machine and a sex toy"

Otto taking care of business, we STAN

Pft stupid headlines that Aemond makes sure are soon scrubbed from existence; he wont have Nora and Stev upset

[an-au-blog]

Thinking about Shuggy college au and got to thinking about the relative ages of other characters and now I’m thinking of end of High school aged Frobin. Robin is that loner goth girl turned popular goth girl that is still seen as a bit odd but she’s smart and helpful and has a slightly morbid sense of humor that just endears her to her classmates. Franky is that loud jock who comes to school in way too short shorts even when the weather doesn’t permit for it. You’d think he’s a huge dumbass from the way he acts sometimes but he actually knows a lot of stuff and gets decent grades and is pretty nifty with machines (Also sometimes babysitting his kid neighbor Usopp and teaching him how to not hit his thumb with a hammer). Both of them having this kind of „end of a slow burn“ relationship where Franky is trying to gather his nerves and tell his long term friend that he has feelings for her and it’s completely fine if she doesn’t, but also she’s going to move to college after the end of this school year and he’s afraid about what that means for them and not to mention he’s „smart“ but Robin is like „SMART smart“ and is going to study history and oh GOD what if this is the thing that makes them loose contact and Oh god, oh no, oh fuck.

… probably ends with her just spontaneously taking his hand and asking HIM out, completely oblivious that he has been fretting over this for almost an entire school year. Just felt like the right thing to do to her. A decision she made right that moment.

I... I never really calculated her years in the college au and at first I thought, pft, she won't be that old but then... like she IS around 10/11 years older than Luffy and assuming he's around 5/6 she'd be in her last years of school omg D:' I'm supposed to be good at math how did I not see this???

Also you have no idea how happy I am, this is my first frobin ask I was so happy when I saw it and then my happiness doubled because it's the college au hahaha :')

If I haven't given you a name, can I call you Franon? Or Fronan?? (haha cuz frobin + anon...)

(Edit: by the time I was halfway through writing this post, I realized I've written an entire subplot lol':))

Robin is definitely that weird kid in school that's a bit too smart for her own good and most teachers just think she's a smartass. The type that even though she moved schools and now she's pretty (and still a bit weird, just hides it better), she still has the outcast mentality. She doesn't know how to be herself and she definitely doesn't know what to do, react or even comprehend that someone wants to be friends with her. Let alone to be interested in her romantically.

Franky on the other hand is so outgoing because he's so weird. People will see him in a blizzard in his short shorts and sunglasses and go "how the heck are you not cold". He'd respond with "oh, I'm freezing! I have a parka and two cotton shirts under there!" and people would laugh along. The type to high-five and greet random people he's talked to once as if they've been friends for ages. I feel like he'd also kinda be the class clown but in a somewhat respectful way. There's a meme about someone calling Prometheus a mad lad and then Hermes a Chad, and I feel like that would be his vibe.

Also, I'm sorry Fronan/Franon, but I'm absolutely stealing the idea that Franky babysits Usopp and they have fun arts and crafts type of bonding. He'll need it for the stuff I've been planning for him and Yasopp >:]]]

Everyone assumes he's a moron, but it's until Robin sees him in one of his extracurricular advanced classes that she realizes he's not only smart but funny and fun to be around. It turns out that they also have a lot in common and quickly become friends.

Also him overthinking it and her asking him out is so on brand imo and I absolutely love it. And maybe here comes into play the fact that he's so friendly with everyone so he automatically assumes people like him so he doesn't know what signs for romantic feelings look like? And how she doesn't think anyone could like her in that way? I can imagine him trying to talk himself out of it because she's going places and what could he give her to make her be with him anyway. While she's sitting next to him already planning a schedule for their talks for their long distance relationship.

And of course, their long distance relationship works very well. They both love each other so much they try their best to have at least two or three nights to talk. In fact, their relationship has a very strong foundation of getting to know each other because of the physical separation.

Or so I'd like to think hehe :')

[thelittlepoetprincess]

[SFW] 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 [Bloomic Spoilers]

Finally, the day you were waiting for. The ever-elusive half-day at your corporate office. You waited anxiously, eyes studying the clock as the hands slowly ticked along. The energy in your usually monotonous, simple office was different, charged with a strange air of excitement. The coffee machine was empty, the paper neatly organized, and everyone synchronized in excitement to escape at 11 o'clock and have the rest of the day to themselves. Even the usual office grumps seemed to be a little more agreeable. The clock clicked to that fated time, the office suddenly buzzing to life as everyone gathered their things to leave while the managers bid everyone a good day politely. You bolted out of the building, taking in the crispy autumn air with gleeful delight. You've always been a fall person, enjoying the orange and red leaves, the chilly air, and the caramel apples… speaking of which, your favorite pop-up stand should have swapped over to their fall treats by now. You found yourself going straight there after work, happily texting your lover about what he wanted before you bumped into someone. You immediately began a string of apologies as you stepped back, eyes on the ground before looking up to your boyfriend chuckling at you.

"Whoa there, angel, you have to start looking when you're going."

"Quest?!" You said his old discord name in surprise, as you find yourself doing out of habit when caught off guard by him. He found it adorably amusing. Michelango repeatedly attempts to dive into your arms excitedly, though the pup couldn't do much against your toned lover.

"Seems you and I had the same idea. I was trying to surprise you after work with your favorite but this one got held up at the groomers because he refused to leave." He gestured to Michelangelo, kneeling beside your pet to play roughhouse with him. He looked up when his number was called. "Ah, wait here, I have a surprise for you."

He returned from the booth with two cups: hot chocolate for himself a warm apple cider for you, and two straws so you could sneak some of his hot chocolate. The special treat was a fresh pumpkin cheesecake scone, your guilty pleasure for such a day. "Surprise!"

He laughed softly, as he allowed you to take the cups from his gloved hands. It gave him a special kind of joy to see you smiling so much, even as the cool wind nipped at your nose. "Today is a special day so I have everything planned already, Angel. I have your favorite shoes in the car waiting for you already. You'll need them but enjoy this first."

You bit into the still-warm scone, reveling as the white chocolate and pumpkin flavors danced on your tongue. The scone was soft and perfectly crumbly. Quest watched you with adoration in his cyan eyes before wrapping his scarf around your neck, it smelt like apples and cinnamon. It seemed he'd changed his cologne recently to reflect the festive mood. "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" Quest asked as he pressed a series of loving kisses on your temple and forehead before walking beside you, pulling your hand in his pocket. The three of you walked together to the familiar navy blue SUV parked nearby. Quest held the door open for you while the sliding door allowed your spoiled fur baby to hop in the back seat. You were briefly covered in sloppy dog kisses before he sat back and behaved himself when Quest got in.

"You always get this sideways smirk when you have something special planned."

"Pft. I do not!" His voice slightly raised a pitch before the two of you laughed together. That's when you noticed the picnic basket in the back of the car alongside a cooler, Quest winked playfully and started the car before the three of you set off toward your destination. Car rides always made you sleepy, and given you'd topped off on apple cider, a scone, and half of Quest's hot chocolate with the addition of the perfectly set heater you were out within minutes. Quest drove carefully to avoid waiting for you, oftentimes stealing glances at you or stroking your cheek gently.

Quest stopped the car at the destination, getting out first and setting up first while you slept peacefully. Your dreams were hazy mixes of you swimming in cider while Onion screamed at you to get out of his pot before you slowly were stirred away by the cold air brushing on your face. When you came to the sun was peeking through the trees, red, orange, and yellow leaves falling down like rain. The scent of his apple cologne flooded your nose, though it was pleasantly mixed with the smell of the park. Quest was carrying you bridal style but had a hand on Michealgo's leash as he trotted beside him. "Good morning, Angel."

He spoke lovingly, pressing a kiss on your forehead while you blinked in awe. It was like a scene from a movie: a perfectly set-up picnic with a pile of leaves just beside the blanket. Given how rosy Quest's cheeks were he'd been working on the set-up for a bit. You couldn't help but shower him in kisses while he carried you, the two of you giggling along. You wiggle out of his embrace, enjoying the walk through the city's forest park hand in hand. "Oh, you didn't have to do this, Quest."

"I know, but I wanted today to be special for you and us. A half-day of work is to be celebrated." He stroked your knuckles with his thumb, trying to warm up your hands with his own. He guided you to the picnic blanket, letting you get settled in while he played with Michelangelo to try and offset that endless energy he seemed to have. You giggle as Michelangelo dove at Quest, knocking the gentle giant over before covering him in kisses.

"Angel! Ha, our son is attacking me!" He teased out while waving his arms before Michelangelo spotted you and bolted over. With a swift dive, you tumbled back with the black American bully into the large pile of leaves with a laugh. Quest came jogging up and he picked up a squirming Michelangelo before getting pulled back down into the leaves with you. You laughed at his disheveled appearance: ruffled black hair, misaligned glasses, and a half-tugged-off jacket. Leaves decorated his hair and body like jewelry and it took you a while to pick them all off. "Well then, was this a good date, Angel?"

"10/10, wouldn't trade it for the world, my love."

[hospitality-product-directory]

Overview of PFT Machine Dealers

Pulmonary Function Test (PFT) machines are essential medical devices used to assess lung function and diagnose respiratory conditions. The market for these machines is growing, driven by an increasing prevalence of respiratory diseases and a greater emphasis on preventive healthcare. PFT machine dealers play a crucial role in this ecosystem by providing healthcare facilities with the necessary equipment, support, and expertise.

Importance of PFT Machines

PFT machines measure various aspects of lung function, including airflow, lung volume, and gas exchange. These tests are vital for diagnosing conditions such as asthma, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), and pulmonary fibrosis. The data collected from these tests help physicians make informed decisions regarding treatment plans and patient management.

Key Features of PFT Machines

1. Spirometry: The most common type of PFT, measuring how much air a patient can inhale and exhale.

2. Lung Volume Measurement: Determines the total volume of air the lungs can hold.

3. Diffusion Capacity: Assesses how well oxygen passes from the lungs into the bloodstream.

Role of Dealers in the PFT Machine Market

PFT machine dealers are responsible for several critical functions that ensure healthcare providers can access and utilize this technology effectively:

1. Equipment Supply

Dealers provide a wide range of PFT machines from various manufacturers, ensuring that healthcare facilities can choose equipment that best meets their needs. This includes both portable and stationary models, catering to different clinical settings.

2. Technical Support and Maintenance

PFT machines require regular maintenance to ensure accurate results. Dealers often offer technical support services, including installation, calibration, and routine maintenance checks. This support is essential for minimizing downtime and ensuring that healthcare providers can rely on their equipment.

3. Training and Education

Understanding how to operate PFT machines effectively is crucial for healthcare professionals. Dealers frequently provide training sessions to ensure that staff members are well-versed in using the equipment and interpreting the results accurately.

4. Regulatory Compliance

PFT machines must comply with various health regulations and standards. Dealers assist healthcare facilities in navigating these requirements, ensuring that all equipment meets necessary certifications and guidelines.

Choosing the Right PFT Machine Dealer

When selecting a PFT machine dealer, healthcare providers should consider several factors:

1. Reputation and Experience

Dealers with a solid reputation in the industry are more likely to provide high-quality products and services. Researching customer reviews and testimonials can help gauge a dealer's reliability.

2. Range of Products

A dealer offering a diverse selection of PFT machines allows healthcare providers to find equipment tailored to their specific needs. This variety can include different brands, models, and features.

3. After-Sales Support

Robust after-sales support is essential for maintaining equipment performance. Look for dealers who offer comprehensive service agreements that include maintenance, repairs, and technical assistance.

4. Training Programs

Dealers that provide training programs demonstrate a commitment to ensuring their clients can use the equipment effectively. This investment in education can lead to better patient outcomes.

 The Future of PFT Machine Dealers

The landscape for PFT machine dealers is evolving due to advancements in technology and increasing demand for respiratory health solutions. Some trends shaping this market include:

1. Integration of Digital Technologies

Modern PFT machines are increasingly incorporating digital technologies such as cloud storage, data analytics, and telemedicine capabilities. Dealers who embrace these innovations will be better positioned to meet the changing needs of healthcare providers.

2. Focus on Preventive Healthcare

As healthcare shifts towards preventive measures, the demand for PFT machines is expected to rise. Dealers who promote the benefits of regular lung function testing will likely see increased interest from healthcare facilities.

3. Sustainability Initiatives

With growing awareness of environmental issues, dealers may need to consider sustainable practices in their operations. This could involve offering energy-efficient equipment or participating in recycling programs for outdated machines.

Conclusion

PFT machine dealers play an indispensable role in the healthcare ecosystem by supplying essential diagnostic tools that help manage respiratory health effectively. By providing quality products, technical support, training, and compliance assistance, these dealers contribute significantly to improved patient outcomes in respiratory care. As technology advances and healthcare demands evolve, dealers must adapt to continue meeting the needs of their clients while promoting better health practices across communities.

[akascow]

im pretty sure i never finished editing this and putting all my thoughts into it but its been in my drafts for like a month and i cannot delete it bc i spent too long on it im just scared to post it because i dont wanna upset anyone but im tired of it being in my drafts so im just posting it with a single tag and running pft i know if i actually reread it i'll just keep adding thoughts and itll never get finished so im gonna not look over it HAHA

its basically me ranting about other people being upset over "some s2 plot points were unnecessary" and how a lot of it was actually needed for the story so if u dont think youd like reading maybe just scroll idk

that type of mindset is so silly bc when u think about it for more than 2 seconds, the arcane team spent porbably over THREE YEARS animating and storyboarding and doing the best they could to 'wrap up' what was supposed to be an entire THREE SEASON ARC into NINE episodes

i GUARANTEE they agonized over not only EVERY LITTLE DETAIL they felt was necessary to the story BUT ALSO painstakingly animating said little details BECAUSE IT WAS NECESSARY TO INCLUDE IN THE STORY

like obviously its fine to dislike how it turned out i know not everyone will like it as much as i did and thats totally fine however just because u didnt totally like how things went over doesnt mean it was unnecessary kjdlskjfd

and im not saying s2 is completely perfect and therefore unable to be touched by criticism. theres some scenes even i dont care for when i rewatch it, same as s1, but theyre still important to the story nonetheless lol

i keep seeing this👇🏻 complaint and idk its getting to me a lil lmao

‘ishas death was pointless it didnt change anything’ did we miss the part where jinx got so depressed that she tried to blow herself up (CHARACTER DEPTH) and she finally got to talk with silco and ended up helping in the fight bc of what he n ekko said (PLOT PROGRESSION) and jinx let go of vi so that vi could finally let go of powder (CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT)

also since when did a character death have to always mean smth HAHA just because she didnt actually kill vander doesnt make it pointless💀💀 it was important to hers and jinx’s character: smth smth like isha sacrificing herself for someone she loves, and jinx watching someone someone she loves and deeply connects with sacrificing themselves for her even if she probably thinks she herself is not worth saving,, (i think idk lmfao)

and it also helps to catalyst viktors machine herald form bc singed takes and merges him with vanders beast (the beast is like lowkey dead after she blasts him so like,, theres that too) the show is very centered around the snowballing/domino effect of one thing leading to another to another to another and so on and so forth.

"jinx vi cait sevika and isha couldve just left" isha gets scared as she watches jinx thrown to the ground and noxian soldiers inch in on her with spears. what isha did saved jinx's life because ambessa was determined to kill jinx too. it didnt kill vander but it immobilized him enough as well as the surrounding soldiers so that the fighting would stop and our mc's could escape

jinx joins the fight in the end because of what ekko says and how she connects it with isha. "no matter what happened in the past, its never too late to build something new, someone worth building it for" which presumably means fighting to fix the future of the two cities i think idk

its fine to be sad about her death obviously but lets not pretend the rest of the show didnt happen lmfao... it would be pointless if literally no one reacted at all but thats very much the opposite of what we saw HAHA... and it probably felt like she got pushed to the side never to be mentioned again (bc no one ever mentions her again HAHA) but u can clearly see how tired and Over It jinx was after isha dies, and how it helped her finally let go so everyone else can move on. like no one mentions her but jinx incorperates parts of isha into her airship decorations (bunny ears on the balloon, shart teeth from her hat on the turbine, designs on her goggles on the windows) and she wears the same pink face paint that isha did

also we just wouldnt have that beautiful montage of isha and jinx in her final moment if it wasnt meant to be important lol

but yeah u gotta remember how much the writers had to fit into s2 in order to get a decent ending lmao

[panfluidme]

Twins of Chaos

Master Post, Chapter Ten

CHAPTER ELEVEN: STOLEN FROM HER HOME

Zack sat in the living room with Ben, playing a game on his phone. Ben had turned the news on for background noise as he read over the script for his newest role. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Last night, author of books such as The Outsider, S.E.M. Salevich, has gone missing. She was last entering her house. The security cameras were disabled shortly before the time of her disappearance," the reporter on the TV said, catching Ben's attention. "The police are currently trying to find her and figure out why she has been taken. It's unknown, as of now, who the kidnapper is. Keep an eye out and stay safe out there. We don't know what this person's goal is or if they'll strike again."

Ben shut the script book, blinking slowly. "Zack, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Salevich went missing last night."

"Suzie? What happened?"

"They don't know. She went home, cameras cut out, and now she's gone."

Zack frowned and set his phone aside. "That's not good. Why would they take Suzie? She lives a pretty normal and quiet life."

"I know! I don't understand why someone would take her." Ben frowned. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Maybe you could talk to Josh. He always seems to know about a lot more stuff than he lets on."

Ben chuckled. "Josh knows basically everything! I'll go talk to him now."

With that, Ben went to the 'hobbit hole' (as Ben had dubbed it) in which Josh usually spent his time. It really was just the garage that Josh had made into a makeshift lab.

"Joshie~" Ben sang when he came in.

"What?"

"You know Suzie E. M. Salevich?"

"I've heard of her. Why?"

"Have you heard that she went missing? It's possible that she got kidnapped."

"Any signs of her getting killed?"

"Not that I've heard." Ben hopped onto the desk, swinging his legs. "Think you can hack into her cameras and see if you can see who took her?"

"I can try." He came out from under the machine he was working on. He wiped the grease on his shirt. "I'm just going to need the camera so I can get the footage."

"Pft. I can get that for you, no hay problema."

"I have no doubt in your abilities. Just don't get caught, okay?"

Ben saluted him. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Eye roll. Just go."

"Got it, Dee." Ben left the garage, ducking out to the backyard. 

He jumped over the fence then took off running toward Salevich's place. She didn't live too far away from the Johnson twins and Zack, only living six houses away. Salevich and Zack were close, have been since childhood. She had been so excited when she heard that Zack was moving into her neighborhood.

Pressing his cloaking brooch, Ben turned into his natural form. He loved the way it felt to be in his actual state. It felt normal.

Leo slowed his pace, seeing the cops that swarmed the place. That was going to make things a little more difficult, but nothing he couldn't handle. He was trained to be a ninja. Meaning, he could easily sneak past them and snag a camera.

Carefully, he snuck to the crime scene. Leo grabbed a rock and threw it forward. Several cops grabbed their guns and went to investigate. Leo took that opportunity to yank out a camera then bolted away.

He jumped over the fence and ran through backyards to get back to his own place. Leo pressed the brooch then reentered the garage.

"Got it!" he shouted triumphantly as he put it onto the desk in front of Josh.

"Great. I'll get to work. Keep Zack distracted. I have a bad feeling about this, and I'd rather him not get in the way."

Ben nodded and turned on his heels. He opened the door then paused. He looked back. "Good luck, DonTron." 

Chapter Twelve

[geaesaekki]

An anonymous fax is sent to Mara, the paper slowly rising from the machine as word per word, it describes a particular bar where another ‘exchange’ is about to occur. These days vigilantes are out and about in town, playing detectives: some out of their own genuine feelings, some with experiences coming from their own blood relatives who have passed or gone missing, while some - well just for the fun of it. Thus it has been hard to justify the source of this - could it be a decoy for the female detective, and if it is, would she have fallen for it? The thing she would have to notice, however, is the mention of a particular cult being involved - that would mean a higher and bigger organization other than their falling police force is behind these all? How much would she trust this anonymous tip..? (Hi, this is pretty random from a random fan :> pft, I missed you so take this however you’d like. Have fun in your trip in the meantime.)   

Mara stands in the dimly lit office, the fax machine as the only sound breaking the silence. She watches the paper slowly creeping out, each word materializing like a message from another world. The room smells faintly of old paper and stale coffee, the usual scent of a late-night shift that had stretched on far too long. The streets has been basking in grand masterminds of crime lately, yes, the city itself is rotting from the inside in the way the detective has never seen before. She has been staring at her case files for hours, unsolved cases, rises of terrorist groups, gang wars, mass kidnapping and whatnot. A mess. This fax, an anonymous tip on one of those cases might be the best thing to happen to her these days. The words describe a bar. Not just any bar, though— a place she knows by name, one frequented by the kind of people who spoke in whispers and dealt in shadows. Her mind races. Another exchange. Her fingers twitches as she reaches for her phone, tempted to call for her newly assigned partne but then the detective hesitates. An anonymous tip like this could easily be a trap, a way to lure her into a dark alley where no one would hear her scream or... from someone who knows exactly who she is, what she does and hence, didn't send the tip to just anybody but Detective Lim herself. Yes, the mention of the cult changes everything : bigger, more dangerous, too. Mara’s jaw clenches as she considers her options. Trust is a luxury she can rarefly afford, but neither was ignoring a potential lead. This fax might be her only shot at getting closer to the truth. But it also feels too easy, too convenient. She had learned the hard way that nothing in this city is ever what it seems. Fuck it. She grabs the fax and folds it neatly, tucking it into her coat pocket. She is no stranger to walking into the lion’s den after all. She's going.

[blueengland-ocposting]

OWOBALL: Heyy Mimic! MIMIC: Oh! ...Woball. MIMIC: What's up? OWOBALL: The ceiling. MIMIC: Pft hahaha. OWOBALL: It wasn't that funny. MIMIC: I like to laugh at things! OWOBALL: Okay.

[OwOball walks inside the room, looking at the various machines lying around. Most are incomplete.]

OWOBALL: ...Does he ever do anything other than build this stuff? MIMIC: I mean- OWOBALL: Other than work at the cafe. MIMIC: That's still two things. OWOBALL: ...Yeah, okay, I guess it is. MIMIC: Why are you here? OWOBALL: I... really just wanted to talk to someone who I knew, you know? OWOBALL: There's so many strange people on this floating island... MIMIC: Yeah, you can say that again.

[The weirdos turn towards the door as it swings open again, POKÉMAN walking in holding the broken body of BREACHED.]

MIMIC: AH! POKÉMAN: We need The Inventor to fix.

[Their voice was double. Two distinct voices layered on top of eachother, both with slightly different tones.]

OWOBALL: W- what the hell are you...? POKÉMAN: What am I?

[POKÉMAN dropped the BREACHED onto the floor.]

POKÉMAN: I don't know what am I. POKÉMAN: What am I...?

[POKÉMAN walked out of the room, seemingly contemplating their existence.]

OWOBALL: Uhh... MIMIC: I... MIMIC: Um, I'm gonna try fixing that robot guy they dropped. OWOBALL: You don't know a thing about inventions like those. MIMIC: I might not know much, but I have been watching Copy-Cat do some work lately! MIMIC: It can't be that hard anyways, just some wires and stuff in the wrong place. MIMIC: And a new screen...

[the-arcade-doctor]

A lesser god infecting an old version of the GREEN MACHINE QUEST cabinet turns out to have accidentally predicted ZX's transness. /silly

pft- hell yeah!!