#Technical equipment trading

[legitbusinessinfo]

Unlocking Precision and Reliability: A Comprehensive Guide to Technical Equipment Trading and Industrial Solutions

In the rapidly evolving world of industrial operations and technical equipment, staying ahead requires more than just cutting-edge technology—it demands precision, reliability, and expert knowledge. For businesses seeking to enhance their operational efficiency and ensure top-notch performance, understanding the landscape of technical equipment trading, calibration solutions, and global industrial services is crucial. This guide explores key aspects of these areas, offering insights into how businesses can leverage these resources to achieve their goals.

Understanding Technical Equipment Trading

Technical equipment trading encompasses the buying and selling of specialized tools and machinery essential for industrial processes. This sector plays a pivotal role in ensuring that companies have access to the latest advancements in technology, which are crucial for maintaining competitive advantage and operational efficiency.

Key Aspects:

Market Dynamics: The technical equipment market is characterized by rapid technological advancements and changing industry standards. Keeping up with these changes is vital for businesses to remain competitive.

Supplier Networks: Building strong relationships with reliable suppliers ensures that businesses have access to high-quality equipment and services. This network often includes manufacturers, distributors, and service providers.

Choosing an Industrial Equipment Supplier

Selecting the right industrial equipment supplier can significantly impact a business's operations. An ideal supplier not only provides high-quality equipment but also offers comprehensive support and services.

Factors to Consider:

Reputation and Reliability: Researching suppliers’ reputations through customer reviews and industry feedback helps in assessing their reliability.

Product Range: A supplier with a diverse product range can offer tailored solutions to meet specific needs.

Support Services: Look for suppliers that provide robust after-sales support, including maintenance and troubleshooting services.

Sources:

"The Importance of Choosing the Right Equipment Supplier" - Industry Today.

"How to Evaluate Industrial Equipment Suppliers" - ThomasNet.

"Supplier Selection Criteria for Industrial Equipment" - Manufacturing Global.

The Role of Calibration Solutions

Calibration solutions are essential for ensuring that equipment performs accurately and consistently. Regular calibration is necessary to maintain precision and reliability, which are crucial for both safety and performance in industrial settings.

What Calibration Involves:

Accuracy Check: Calibration involves comparing a device's output against a known standard to ensure its accuracy.

Adjustment: If discrepancies are found, adjustments are made to align the equipment with the standard.

Benefits of Calibration:

Enhanced Accuracy: Regular calibration ensures that measurements are accurate, reducing errors in production processes.

Compliance: Many industries require compliance with regulatory standards, which often include regular calibration.

Sources:

"Understanding Calibration and Its Importance" - NIST.

"Why Regular Calibration Matters" - Quality Digest.

"The Calibration Process Explained" - Control Design.

Exploring Global Industrial Services

Global industrial services encompass a wide range of solutions designed to support industrial operations on an international scale. These services include everything from equipment supply to technical support and maintenance.

Components of Global Services:

Technical Support: Offering remote or on-site assistance to troubleshoot and resolve issues.

Training: Providing training for personnel to ensure proper equipment use and maintenance.

Logistics: Managing the supply chain to ensure timely delivery of equipment and parts.

Advantages:

Scalability: Global services allow businesses to scale operations efficiently across different regions.

Expertise: Access to specialized knowledge and resources that may not be available locally.

Sources:

"Global Industrial Services: An Overview" - Engineering News-Record.

"How Global Services Enhance Industrial Operations" - Industrial Equipment News.

"Managing Global Industrial Services Effectively" - Manufacturing.net.

The Importance of Electrical Test Equipment

Electrical test equipment is crucial for diagnosing and maintaining electrical systems. These tools help in identifying faults, ensuring system integrity, and verifying performance.

Types of Electrical Test Equipment:

Multimeters: Measure voltage, current, and resistance.

Oscilloscopes: Analyze the waveform of electrical signals.

Insulation Testers: Assess the integrity of electrical insulation.

Applications:

Preventive Maintenance: Regular testing helps in preventing equipment failures.

Compliance Testing: Ensures that electrical systems meet safety and performance standards.

Sources:

"A Guide to Electrical Test Equipment" - Electrical Engineering Portal.

"Choosing the Right Electrical Test Equipment" - Test Equipment Depot.

"Electrical Test Equipment and Their Uses" - IEEE Spectrum.

Ensuring Reliable Test Solutions

Reliable test solutions are essential for accurate data and successful outcomes in various industrial applications. These solutions encompass a range of testing methods and tools designed to ensure equipment and systems perform optimally.

Key Considerations:

Accuracy and Precision: Reliable test solutions must provide accurate and consistent results.

Ease of Use: User-friendly equipment and software simplify the testing process.

Benefits:

Improved Performance: Accurate testing leads to better performance and longevity of equipment.

Cost Savings: Prevents costly downtime and repairs by identifying issues early.

Sources:

"The Role of Reliable Test Solutions in Industry" - Test and Measurement World.

"Selecting Reliable Test Equipment for Industrial Applications" - Electronic Design.

"How Reliable Testing Impacts Industrial Operations" - Automation World.

Precision Measurement Tools: The Backbone of Accurate Operations

Precision measurement tools are fundamental for ensuring that industrial processes are carried out with the highest level of accuracy. These tools are used in various applications, from manufacturing to quality control.

Types of Precision Measurement Tools:

Calipers and Micrometers: Measure dimensions with high accuracy.

Gages: Assess the quality and tolerance of manufactured parts.

Laser Measurement Systems: Provide non-contact measurement for enhanced precision.

Importance:

Quality Assurance: Ensures that products meet specified standards and tolerances.

Process Optimization: Helps in refining processes and improving efficiency.

Sources:

"Understanding Precision Measurement Tools" - Metrology World.

"The Role of Precision Measurement in Quality Control" - Quality Assurance Magazine.

"Advancements in Precision Measurement Technologies" - Precision Measurement Solutions.

Conclusion

Navigating the world of technical equipment trading, industrial equipment supply, and calibration solutions requires a deep understanding of the available resources and their applications. By focusing on reliable suppliers, effective calibration, and precise measurement tools, businesses can enhance their operational efficiency and ensure the highest standards of performance. For those seeking to leverage these resources effectively, staying informed and choosing the right partners is key to achieving long-term success.

For more information on technical equipment and industrial solutions, visit Sukma Trade.

[crookedtines]

How would someone get into weaving like the ttok cheese post 😔😔😔 I love it so much and would love to make something like that

All you need to get started is some yarn, a good source to learn from, and a few tools you probably already have around the house! There are tools I'd recommend buying to make things easier, but not having them won't keep you from weaving.

A good source to learn from:

I have a previous post that lists resources for both tablet weaving and heddle weaving that you can find here. If you like the way the hateno cheese band looks, you might want to try tablet weaving! If you're drawn to the style of my other bands (ex. the ducks and houses), then you'll want to look into heddle weaving (specifically Baltic pick up).

Throughout my journey into bandweaving, I've found much more, and much better, resources for tablet weaving than I have for heddled weaving. Because of this, I've decided to create my own guide to weaving with a rigid heddle to throw into the mix. It'll be a while before I'm done because I'm being super extra about it, but keep an eye out if that's something you'd be interested in! Here's a peek of my progress because I'm very excited about it. Can you tell I have a background in narrative illustration?

Tools of the trade:

There are 5 basic tools in bandweaving:

The yarn. The only tool that is absolutely required. You could weave with yarn alone if you so felt like it.

The heddle. Technically not required, but it would be incredibly tedious to weave without one. I personally like using a rigid heddle for heddled weaving, but string heddles are easy to make with tools you already have. Tablet weaving uses cards, which might not technically be a kind of heddle, but it serves the same purpose.

The shuttle. Not required, but convenient to have and easy to make. If you don't want to use a shuttle, the weft can be tied into a little bundle instead.

The beater. The beater and the shuttle are often one and the same. It's essentially just a stick. Even the side of your hand can work. Whatever can pack the weft down into the previous row.

The loom. You might think of a loom as a very large, expensive piece of equipment, but it doesn't have to be! A loom is anything that holds your warp threads under tension. My "loom" consists of tying one end of my warp to a piece of furniture and the other end around my belt with a clip.

These are the tools I use:

And here is an alternative to the rigid heddle, which is very easy to scrounge around for and make yourself:

[aiartwerk]

Carpenter A confident female carpenter working on wood in a workshop. With her curly hair tied back, safety glasses, and tools in hand, she is fully focused on her craft. Wood shavings and sparks surround her as she smoothly planes a piece of wood. Her robust physique adds to the image’s emphasis on empowerment and craftsmanship.

Construction Worker This image portrays a construction worker standing proudly on a construction site, donning a hard hat and tool belt. Her dusty outfit and powerful stance amidst cranes and scaffolding show her strength and dedication to the job, surrounded by a backdrop of a large industrial site under construction.

Crane Operator A woman sits inside a crane cabin, wearing a hard hat and work gloves, operating heavy machinery with intense focus. The interior of the cabin is filled with dials and switches, capturing the mechanical aspect of her job. The background is a vast construction site, highlighting the scale of her work.

Race Car Driver A striking woman in a yellow racing suit stands confidently in front of a Formula 1 race car. Her stance is powerful, with arms akimbo, as she commands attention amidst the high-energy backdrop of a race track. Her sleek outfit and the car’s detailed design contribute to the fast-paced energy of the scene.

Electrician This image showcases an African-American woman working as an electrician, kneeling down amidst a tangle of wires and cables. She holds a tool in her hand while sparks fly around her. Her expression is calm and composed as she works with precision in a high-stress environment.

Firefighter A fierce female firefighter stands in front of a blazing fire, exuding strength and bravery. Her orange firefighter suit is charred, and her face is determined as she readies herself for action. The flames in the background highlight the danger and intensity of her profession.

Pilot A stylish and commanding woman stands in front of a large airplane, dressed in a crisp pilot’s uniform. Her tailored black jacket and cap emphasize her authority and professionalism. The jet behind her and the blue skies reflect her role as a leader in aviation.

Lumberjill A woman in plaid and work jeans is in the midst of chopping logs in a forest clearing. Her strong arms grip an ax as she focuses on the task at hand. The sunlight filtering through the trees adds warmth to the image, emphasizing her connection to the land and hard work.

Mechanic In a garage setting, a female mechanic works on a car, her hands covered in grease. Her denim overalls cling to her toned frame as she holds a tool, surrounded by equipment and automotive parts. Her intense expression shows focus, dedication, and passion for her trade.

Soldier A soldier stands at attention amidst a battlefield, her body armored and weapon at her side. Her camo fatigues blend into the war-torn environment, while her fierce, unyielding gaze suggests experience and readiness for the challenges ahead.

Plumber A woman kneels beside a kitchen sink, tools in hand, as she works on the plumbing. Her determined expression and sturdy overalls emphasize her hands-on approach to fixing things. The homey kitchen setting contrasts with her industrial tools, blending domestic and technical elements.

Power Line Worker High above the ground, a woman works on power lines, equipped with a tool belt and safety gear. She balances on a wooden beam, her face focused as she repairs wiring. The towering power poles and bright sky in the background add scale and drama to the scene.

Spaceship Pilot Inside a futuristic spaceship, a young woman pilots the craft, surrounded by high-tech controls. Her white and black spacesuit glows in the colorful lights of the console, and the cosmos stretches out beyond the window. The vastness of space outside complements her focused expression as she navigates.

Submariner In the depths of the ocean, a woman operates the controls of a high-tech submarine. The control room is dimly lit with screens glowing, showing the sea life outside. Sharks swim past the large windows, creating a mysterious and adventurous atmosphere as she guides the vessel.

Welder A woman stands confidently in front of a welding torch, sparks flying around her. Her protective gloves and helmet highlight the dangers of her job, but her composed expression suggests mastery of her craft. The industrial setting around her adds a sense of strength and power to the scene.

Each image is crafted with ultra-realistic detail, featuring vivid 3D rendering and high-resolution 4K quality. The colors are bold and striking, with detailed lighting that brings out the textures in their environments, outfits, and the characters themselves. Each woman is depicted with strength and beauty, emphasizing her role in her respective profession while challenging traditional gender stereotypes.

These characters not only represent women of power but also pay homage to diversity by showcasing African American women in impactful, aspirational roles.

[metamatar]

In 1975, civilian nuclear technology was part of a worldwide strategy to bring the Organization of Petroleum-Exporting Countries (OPEC) to heel. That body’s power seemed unprecedented, given that most of its countries were historically impoverished or “backward” peoples. [...]

Many developing countries did adopt nuclear technologies, often with crucial parts of their national infrastructures relying on American and European expertise, equipment, and fuel. Rather than seeing liberation from nature, such countries faced renewed forms of dependence. Iran certainly never gained reliable access to uranium and did not become the economic miracle envisioned by Ansari back in 1975. Instead of lifting up the poorer nations of the world, the global nuclear order seemed structured in ways reminiscent of the colonial era. The most heated debates within the IAEA pitted the nuclear weapons states against the so-called LDCs—less developed countries. The agency never became a storehouse for fission products. Instead, one of its primary functions was to monitor an arms control treaty—the Treaty 4 on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. By the end of the century, the IAEA was referred to as a “watchdog,” known for its cadre of inspectors. In 2003, IAEA inspections were crucial talking points in public debates about the invasion of Iraq by the United States [...] evidence gathered over the years by the agency created for the peaceful atom was being interpreted by the United States government as justification for military intervention. [...]

Focusing only on arms control glosses over the domestic politics of nuclear programs, particularly the role of high technology as symbols of state power and legitimacy. But it also does not square with what scholars of the Cold War have been pointing out for decades—that governments, especially the United States, deployed science and technology as diplomatic tools, to achieve feats of prestige, to shape business arrangements, to conduct clandestine surveillance, or to bind countries together with technical assistance programs. Poorer countries’ dreams of modernization, of using advanced technology to escape hunger, poverty, and the constraints of nature—these were the stock-in-trade of US diplomacy. Why, then, should we imagine that the promises connected to peaceful uses of atomic energy were any less saturated with geopolitical maneuvers and manipulation? [...]

American officials in the late 1940s and early 1950s were very worried that commercial nuclear power would siphon off supplies of uranium and monazite needed for the weapons arsenal. So they explicitly played down the possibility of electricity generation from atomic energy and instead played up the importance of radioisotopes for medicine and agriculture—because such radioisotopes were byproducts of the US weapons arsenal and did not compete with it. The kinds of technologies promoted in the developing world by the United States, the USSR, and Europeans thus seemed neocolonial, keeping the former colonies as sites of resource extraction—a fact noticed, and resented, by government officials in India, Brazil, and elsewhere. Mutation plant breeding, irradiation for insect control or food sterilization, and radioisotope studies in fertilizer—these were oriented toward food and export commodities and public health, problems indistinguishable from those of the colonial era. These were not the same kinds of technologies embraced by the global North, which focused on electricity generation through nuclear reactors, often as a hedge against the rising political power of petroleum-producing states in the Middle East. By the mid-1960s and 1970s, the United States and Europe did offer nuclear reactors even to some of the most politically volatile nations, as part of an effort to ensure access to oil. Convincing petroleum suppliers of their dire future need for nuclear reactors was part of a strategy to regain geopolitical leverage. Despite the moniker “peaceful atom,” these technologies were often bundled in trade deals with fighter jets, tanks, and other military hardware [...]

By the close of the century, two competing environmental narratives were plainly in use. One was critical of atomic energy, drawing on scientific disputes about the public health effects of radiation, the experience of nuclear accidents such as Three Mile Island (1979) and Chernobyl (1986), or the egregious stories of public health injustice—including negligence in protecting uranium miners or the wanton destruction and contamination of indigenous peoples’ homelands. In contrast was the narrative favored by most governments, depicting nuclear technology in a messianic role, promising not only abundant food, water, and electricity, but also an end to atmospheric pollution and climate change. [...]

As other scholars have noted, the IAEA tried to maintain a reputation of being primarily a technical body, devoid of politics. But it had numerous political uses. For example, it was a forum for intelligence gathering, as routinely noted by American Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) documents. It also outmaneuvered the World Health Organization and Food and Agriculture Organization in the early 1960s and was able to assert an authoritative voice playing down public health dangers from atomic energy. Further, it provided a vehicle for countries to stay engaged in atomic energy affairs even if they did not sign on to the non-proliferation treaty—India, Pakistan, and Israel most notably. It provided apartheid-era South Africa with a means of participating in international affairs when other bodies ousted it because of its blatantly racist policies. By the same token, it gave the Americans and Europeans political cover for continuing to engage with South Africa, an important uranium supplier.

Introduction to The Wretched Atom, Jacob Hamlin

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 5.9k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 5 | Master List | Ao3

---------------------------------------

Chapter 6

Jake slid his sunglasses on while exiting the Vigilantes hanger. He was supposed to meet Coyote for lunch - an apology for blowing him off for the last three weekends. But with you standing firm on the no weeknights sleepovers, it was the only time he was able to see you. After waking you up with his tongue between your legs, he’d thought you’d cave, but no luck. Instead, he was stuck trading texts and phone calls during the week. But even Coyote agreed that regular sex was more important than pick-up basketball games at the base gym or nights at the bar.

Jake cast a critical eye over the jets as he walked the flight line. The maintenance crews were among the best in the world, but all it took was one rookie pilot just out of flight school to damage millions of dollars in equipment. As part of his TOPGUN training, he’d been charged with helping train some of those kids, which was an exercise in patience. Thankfully he wasn’t the only TOPGUN grad stationed on Lemoore, so the responsibilities were pretty evenly shared.

A small group of people was standing around the Rough Raiders hanger - a mix of khaki, flight suits, and civilians. He paused midstep at the sight of you climbing a jet ladder, a guy in a flight suit standing below and checking out your ass. You hadn’t mentioned being on base when you talked last night. Tucking his tongue into his cheek, he watched you climb into the F-35 and look up at the canopy as the pilot quickly scaled the ladder. He handed you his helmet, and Jake watched as you grinned and put it on before sitting. From the distance and angle, he couldn’t see you well but clocked the guy’s grin and as he reached into the cockpit. He felt a spike of irritation and shoved his clenched fists into his pockets before remembering he was in uniform. Smoothing down his khakis, he forced himself to walk away.

Coyote was waiting by his Jeep when Jake reached the Sidewinder offices. With a nod, he got into the car and cranked the engine, blasting the air conditioning. Coyote glanced at his friend and smirked, “Who pissed in your Cheerios?” 

“No one,” he grumbled, snapping the door shut. “Joe’s sound good, or did you want to hit the food court?”

“Let’s get the hell off base. Gotta tell you about this damn kid.”

Your phone buzzed, alerting you to motion outside your front door before it chimed. Sighing, you dropped the dirty clothes you were sorting and reached into your pocket, pulling up the app to see Jake looking down at the camera. Stepping over the pile of clothes, you closed your bedroom door before letting him in. “Hey - didn’t realize you were coming over.”

“Just thought I’d stop by,” he shrugged. As soon as the door was closed, he backed you into it and braced his forearm over your head. Your hands rested on his chest as he kissed you slowly, the scent of his cologne - something smokey and spicy - washing over you. “Saw you on the flight line today.”

“Had the 60-day post-delivery meeting for the Lightnings,” you explained when his lips pressed against your throat. Jake smiled, slipping his hand under the hem of your shirt to lightly stroke your back, pinky anchored into the waistband of your slacks. 

“That means it’s been 60 days since we met?”

“Technically 58 - we had to schedule the meeting early.”  

“Damn, only took 58 days to get you to fall for me.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far - you’re still in your probationary period, Seresin,” you scoffed. “Your review is coming up, and I’m a little unclear if you’ve met the conditions of your contract.” 

“Oh yeah?” He shifted so his body pressed against yours, pinning you in place. “Pretty sure I’ve been the ideal boyfriend - I’ve made you dinner a couple of times, followed your stupid sleepover rule, watched your shitty movies - ”

“You’re getting points docked for insulting my taste.” 

“Made you cum six ways from Sunday.” You felt his cock twitch against your thigh as he smirked. 

Smiling sweetly, you cupped him, squeezing lightly when he pressed into your hand. His teeth dug into his lower lip when you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “All requests for title changes will be reviewed and, if approved, authorized following the 30-day evaluation - i.e., changing ‘guy I’m seeing’ to ‘boyfriend.’” When he opened his mouth to reply, you laughed while ducking out from under his arm. “We may have met 58 days ago, but we’ve only been seeing each other for three weeks. Better be on your best behavior for another week, or we’ll terminate the contract.” 

You made it three steps before Jake’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you back against his chest. “We’ve spent the last three weekends together and talk every day. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend.” 

“I don’t remember having that conversation.” 

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want casual.” After brushing his lips to your neck, he rested his temple against yours and closed his eyes, swaying slightly. A contented sigh escaped as you let yourself relax against him. 

“You are definitely not who I thought you were, Jake.” 

“Took you 58 days to realize that, darlin’?” he teased, a hint of an accent coloring his words. 

“My sweet, sexy Southern guy I’m seeing.”

“Boyfriend.” 

“You’re really angling for that promotion.” 

“Put in my time and earned it on merit.” Shaking your head, you let out a heavy sigh while turning in his arms. He took your left hand, pulling it behind your back and holding you close. Your right hand lifted to tap the ribbon bar pinned to his chest, just under his golden wings.  

“There’s no ribbon or promotion ceremony for that, you know.” 

“You sure?” he asked, glancing down at his service ribbons. “Could start another row just for you.” Laughing, you stood on your toes to kiss him. 

“You staying for dinner? I was just going to get something delivered and catch up on chores since someone has been keeping me busy over the weekends, and I haven’t had a chance to clean.” 

“Let’s go out - grab a couple of drinks and a burger at the bar. Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I saw you on Sunday, it’s only Wednesday.” 

“Exactly.” Chuckling, you slipped out of his arms, his fingers tightening around yours before releasing, and walked towards your room to swap your slacks for jeans.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You didn’t miss me?” he asked, following you to lean against your bedroom doorframe. Turning, you felt a flutter in your stomach at the sight of him, a softly teasing smirk playing on his lips, and a hint of mischief in his green eyes. 

“Not even a little,” you lied. 

His answering laugh let you know he didn’t believe you.

“That’s disgusting,” Jake grimaced, pulling a face as he handed you back your beer. You rolled your eyes, reaching over to wipe a bit of the watermelon gose foam from his upper lip.

“It’s better than your IPA.” Shaking his head, he took a swig to wash away the taste before looking around the bar. You’d had low hopes for the beer selection when you’d walked inside what was clearly a pilot hangout but had been pleasantly surprised that they carried a local brewery on tap. 

“Wanna grab a seat or play some pool? There’s an open table.” 

“Let’s play.” Grinning, he took your hand and led you to the back of the bar, where three tables were lined up. After placing his beer on the table rail, Jake grabbed two cues from the wall as you retrieved the balls from the pockets. 

“We playing for fun, or do you want to make it interesting?” he asked, grabbing the triangle and racking the balls. 

“We’re not playing strip pool in public.” His laugh drew the attention of the table next to you, and he walked towards you. When he reached to slip his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, you shifted so your ass was pressed against the table. As much as you enjoyed Jake’s hands on you, there were too many people around that you might have to work with one day. Better to keep the PDA to a reasonable level. 

“Not what I was gonna suggest, but I like where your mind went,” he said, placing his hands on the table beside your hips. Cocking his head, his gaze drifted from your face to the hint of cleavage your blouse allowed. 

“My eyes are up here, Lieutenant. What do you want to bet?” Taking his lower lip between his teeth, Jake shook his head.

“I wanna wake up with my girlfriend during the week.” 

“You are really hung up on that, aren’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“What can I say? I think your snores are cute.”

“I do not snore!”

“You do,” he countered, leaning close enough to whisper in your ear. “Make these hot little moans when you’re sleeping, too. Makes me want to roll you onto your back and slide into that sweet - ”

“Jacob Michael!” you hissed, face flushed. 

“Damn. First and middle name,” someone said. You glanced over Jake’s shoulder as his head fell to the crook of your neck, groaning softly. A guy in a flight suit stood there, grinning. “What’d you do to piss her off, Hangman?” 

“Fuck off, Coyote.” Jake shifted to sit on the table beside you, hunched over and rubbing his brow.

“Javy Machado,” the man said, extending a hand. “But everyone calls me Coyote. You must be the woman this asshole can’t stop talking about.” Laughing, you introduced yourself while shaking his hand. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Jake said you two went to the Academy together?” 

“We did. Got stuck with him during our plebe summer.” 

“Oh. So you know all the embarrassing college stories.”

“He tell you about the time he lost a uniform race and almost broke his nose running into the wall during an Around the World?”

“I didn’t understand what you said, but tell me more,” you grinned. 

“Did you need something?” Jake asked, glaring at his friend.

“Basically, our detailer - ”

“We’re trying to play a game. See you later, Coyote.” Standing, Jake turned his friend around and playfully shoved him between his shoulders. 

“It was nice meeting you!” you called after him. “And don’t worry - we’ll talk.” 

“I’ll see you around. And don’t let him hustle you at pool.” Jake sighed when he turned to see you sipping your beer, eyes sparkling over the rim of the glass. 

“Ignore everything he says.” 

“Absolutely not. He is definitely coming over for dinner one night so I can hear all about baby Seresin. And it’s good to know that you hustle pool.”

“I don’t hustle, darlin�� - I’m just good.” 

“Is that right? Then why, exactly, should I even bother betting against you?” 

“I’ll give you a two-ball handicap.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three, and I get to move the white ball every other turn.”

“Two ball handicap and you can move the cue ball twice.” 

“Fine, but we’re doing best two out of three.” 

“Alright. What do you want if you win?” 

“I want…” you tapped your upper lip and laughed when Jake moved your hand to kiss you.

“Didn’t need to bet to get me to kiss you, darlin’.” Playfully, you shoved him away and stood.

“I want one no questions asked favor that I can call in whenever I need.” After a moment, he nodded.  

When you failed to break the rack during your first shot, Jake grinned as you hung your head and groaned. His shot sank a striped ball, and he hit another one before missing. After nudging two of your solids into a pocket, you took a shot that bounced off the railing. He winked while lining up his shot, not even looking as he hit the cue ball, knocking in two of his stripes. 

The first game was over quickly, and he grinned against your pouting lips before drinking half of his beer. “Should we stop at the store and get some of your flavored coffee shit for my place?” he teased. 

“Don’t act like you don’t like my flavored creamer and syrups, Mr. Honey Lavender Latte.” 

“That’s Lieutenant Honey Lavender Latte,” he smirked, tugging a strand of your hair. “Want me to help?” 

“Fine,” you huffed. Jake reracked the balls and stood at the end of the table as you broke, enjoying the peek down your shirt as you bent over the table. After hitting a solid in and purposely missing his second shot, he watched as you circled the table to pick your angle while sipping your beer. When you stopped in front of him and dropped the cue ball back onto the table, he helped position your hand into a closed bridge and pointed to where you should aim. Placing his hand on your wrist, he stepped behind you so your ass pressed against his crotch when you leaned over the table.

“During the stroke, give it the right amount of thrust,” he said, stacking his hand behind yours on the pool stick. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you shifted your weight and watched him bite his lip. “Behave.” When the ball sank into the pocket, you stood and grinned, quickly pecking his lips before lining up the next shot, waiting expectantly for him to help. 

You took the opportunity to tease him at every turn.

When you knocked the eight ball in and won the round, Jake couldn’t help but grin when you threw up your hands in celebration, shoulders shaking as you wiggled your hips in a victory dance. Unable to stop himself, he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you back into his chest to press a kiss to your neck. Your excitement was adorable, even though he was turned on and frustrated as hell. One more round, a stop by your apartment, and then straight into his bed for some teasing of your own. And he wouldn’t have to walk you to your damn rental car and wait for a text to say you were home safely. 

“Wanna grab dinner before the tie-breaker?” you asked.  

“If you wanna prolong the inevitable.” Narrowing your eyes, you stuck out your tongue and danced out of the way when he moved to smack your ass. 

“Go get us a table. I’m going to use the restroom.” With a quick kiss, you made your way through the crowd in the direction he’d pointed while Jake grabbed your empty glasses and returned them to the bar. He clapped Coyote on the back when he saw his friend waiting to close out his tab.

“She seems nice,” Coyote said. 

“I really like her, Javy.” Jake felt his scrutinizing gaze and shook his head, meeting his friend’s eyes. “She is…”

“Not your normal type?” Hanging his head, Jake chuckled. He’d been purposely avoiding eye contact with a couple of women he’d hooked up with all night. “Just don’t fall for the whole ‘something’s missing’ thing this time, alright?” Javy smirked, holding up his left hand and wiggling his fingers. 

“Never gonna let me live that one down, are you?” 

“Hey, I’m not the one who got married because their girlfriend of three months posted on Facebook that their ring finger was empty.” Jake grimaced, pushing away the memory of proposing to his ex-wife while drunk on Bourbon Street after she’d been pouting all night that all of her friends were getting married and having babies. The next day, he’d opened his first credit card to replace the straw wrapper ring with one she picked out on base at the NEX and bought his matching wedding band. 

His ring was now on the bottom of the Pacific. He’d tossed it off the carrier after signing the divorce papers. 

“You know who that is?” Javy asked, nodding to where you were chatting with some guy in a flight suit. Jake shook his head, watching as you smiled, and waved a hand across your eyes before drawing a circle in the air. Your brows furrowed as the guy said something, and then you laughed and shook your head. Jake moved when the guy grinned and cupped your cheek, turning your head left and right.

He recognized the guy. It was that pilot from earlier.  

“Shit,” Javy muttered, watching as you took a step back and nodded. 

“There you are,” Jake said, dropping his arm across your shoulders and kissing the side of your head. “Ready to grab a table?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Jake, this is - ”

“Hangman.”

“Rebound,” he replied, shaking Jake’s extended hand. 

“You’re with the Rough Raiders?” he asked, nodding at the other man’s patch.

“Yeah. You?”

“Vigilantes.” 

“Lieutenant Karrow was nice enough to let me see what the 360 camera array on the Lightning looks like from inside his helmet,” you said, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men.

“All that tech must be nice. Sounds like the 35 pretty much flies itself,” Jake said. Rebound smirked.

“Vigilantes are still in the 18s, right? I used to fly one, but the 35s are great. I love the 10K higher ceiling and better maneuverability. Plus, the whole being able to fire on an enemy behind you with all that tech.” 

“If you’re lucky enough for them not to get tone on you by that point.” 

“When you’re in a stealth craft, it doesn’t happen very often.” 

“Right. All that tech makes the pilot's job easier,” Jake smirked. Rebound scowled, and your smile was fixed as you looked up at him. 

“Actually, Hangman,” you said, emphasizing his call sign. “Have you heard that the dogfighting rating is better for the 35 than the 18? The stealth capabilities help, but once the missile bays open, the radar-absorbent skin is slightly impacted, so the pilots have to have combat skills. I’m sure you agree that the Navy wouldn’t send just anyone up in the air with an aircraft that costs $80 million a pop. Our infrared tech definitely helps since it can pick up on aircraft not showing up on radar by finding those heat signatures. Oh, and the ‘hive mind’ communication ability to share data between the 35s in the air - totally helpful when engaging the enemy. Not to mention the whole helmet capabilities. Our engineers, ugh, they did so well with that,” you said, shrugging off Jake’s arm and smiling at Rebound. “I don’t know about you, Karrow, but I really think the ability to just look at a target and engage is a hell of a lot better than having to reposition your jet to get your nose on target to even have a chance of getting a hit has its advantages in a dogfight.”

“Definitely,” Rebound grinned. Jake’s jaw clenched as you crossed your arms. 

“That’s not even considering that we’re implementing a $15 billion upgrade with the Block 4 F-35s. We’re increasing power and data storage by a factor of 25 while incorporating 17 new weapons systems. And improving fuel efficiency by 25%. And while that’s pretty fucking phenomenal, unfortunately, we didn’t get the bid for the sixth-gen F/A-XX that the Navy ordered to replace the Super Hornet since those are actually deteriorating faster than the Hornets did, and production is ending in 2025. So you’ll probably have to get used to flying with more tech at some point in your career, Hangman.” 

Jake didn’t like the thinly veiled anger or forced smile on your face. “You never know, darlin’. Hopefully, I’ll still be in the cockpit when those get off the production line.” 

“Hopefully.” Your voice was clipped as you turned your attention to Karrow, who raised an eyebrow. “Thanks again for this afternoon, I really appreciate it. Have a goodnight, Jackson.” 

“You too. And, uh, you know where to find me if you ever want to get another up-close look at the 35.” Karrow’s eyes darted over to Jake, whose jaw ticked. You smiled at Jake with a nod before turning on your heel and walking out of the bar. 

He hesitated a beat before nodding at Karrow. His eyes darted to where Coyote stood at the bar and tilted his head. Coyote lifted his chin, pinning his gaze on Rebound, who smirked at Jake’s back before returning to his group of friends.  

Outside, you looked down at your phone, comparing the pick-up time for two rideshare apps through bleary eyes and trying not to blink. If you didn’t blink, the tears building in your eyes wouldn’t fall, and you wouldn’t be crying. 

“Darlin’?”

“Go away.” 

“Baby, talk to me.” 

“Go away, Jake. Please.” You refused to look at him as he stood beside you.

“Don’t get a car. Lemme drive you home.” When you didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Sweetheart.”

“Fine.” Locking your phone, you slipped it into your back pocket and made your way across the parking lot to his truck. Your hand rested on the handle as he unlocked it, not even giving him the opportunity to open your door. As soon as he cranked the engine, you reached over to turn up the music to a volume that discouraged conversation; his 2000s country music flooded the cab. When he reached over to place his hand on your leg, you turned away from him and stared out the window. His hand flexed on the shifter.

Even though you almost jumped out of the truck when he parked outside your apartment, mumbling goodnight, Jake followed you upstairs. The tight grip you had on your tears was faltering as you unlocked the door, and he pushed inside behind you. “Can you leave, please?” you said softly. 

“Talk to me, darlin’. Tell me what I did wrong.” Your back was turned to him, and your head dropped, hands lifting to cover your face. Your sharp inhale echoed in the quiet apartment, and his feet were moving before his brain caught up. His arms wrapped around your waist as he cradled you to his chest, pressing kisses to your shoulders as you trembled. When your first sob burst free, he turned you, cradling your head and gently rocking, pressing kisses into your hair. 

“I f-fuckin’ h-hate my j-job,” you gasped into his chest. Jake frowned, humming rather than responding as your grip on the back of his shirt tightened. His hands slid down your body, one landing on your ass while the other encouraged your leg over his hip. Crouching, he lifted you off your feet, legs wrapping around his waist, and walked into your bedroom, gently depositing you on your bed. After kicking off his shoes and taking off his khaki shirt, he knelt in front of you and took off your shoes, tossing them towards your closet. As you moved towards the pillows, you wiggled off your jeans, dropped them over the side of the bed, and shrugged off your bra under your shirt. He grabbed them both and put them in the laundry basket before taking off his pants and joining you under the covers.

“Gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asked, gently wiping away your tears. 

“‘M sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“Our night was ruined because of that… because he….”

“Night wasn’t ruined.”

“I’m actually pretty good at pool.” 

“What?” he frowned at the change in topic. 

“I-I played a lot growing up. At the base youth centers after school, and my grandparents bought me this game table when we came back stateside. It had pool and air hockey, and ping pong. My grandpa was really good at pool, and we’d play every time he visited.” Chuckling, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You telling me that you were hustlin’ me tonight?”

“A little.” 

“I shouldn’t like that as much as I do.” Biting your lower lip, you ran your knuckle along his jaw, his stubble rasping against your skin. He gently took your wrist and kissed your palm when you reached his chin. When you met his gaze, his green eyes were soft and filled with concern. Closing your eyes, you moved closer and tucked your head under his chin. Jake sighed, holding you tightly as your legs tangled. “At the risk of sounding like a jealous boyfriend, he shouldn’t have touched you.” He felt you tense, but you didn’t say anything. 

Jake felt your breathing even and was almost asleep himself when he heard you murmur, “I don’t hate the 18.” A smile tugged at his lips as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Glad to hear that, darlin’. You’re a damn good saleswoman - almost had me wanting to drop that $80 million, even though it’s more expensive than what you told me the first time we met.” 

“‘S the engine that adds the $5 million,” you yawned. “But you’d get the discount.”

“Only took 58 days to earn that.”

When you woke in the middle of the night and slipped out of bed, Jake grabbed his phone to check the time. There was a text from Coyote asking if everything was okay, and he quickly typed back a message saying they’d talk. When you came back into the bedroom with a glass of water, he waited for you to say he needed to leave.

Instead, you set your glass on the nightstand and took off your shirt, slipping back between the covers with your back to him. He locked his phone and dropped it back onto the nightstand before shedding his own shirt. Curling around you, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and smiled when you pressed back against him.

His alarm went off before yours. Groaning, you pulled the pillow over your head as he turned it off. A strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you across the bed, leaving your pillow behind as you grumbled. “Morning, grumpy,” Jake’s sleep-rasped voice teased as he rolled you onto your back. He kissed you softly, brushing the hair from your face before lightly tapping your cheek. “Lemme see those pretty eyes, darlin’.” 

“Go away, you evil morning person.” Laughing lowly, he pushed back the covers and lowered his head to kiss the curve of your breast before sucking on your nipple. You inhaled sharply, pressing against his mouth as your hand buried in his hair. 

“Play hooky with me,” he mumbled against your skin. When you shook your head, he lightly bit your breast before trailing kisses up your chest and throat, stopping when his lips hovered over yours. “I’ll go to sick call. You call in sick. We can spend all day relaxing.” When his thumb traced your cheek, you forced your eyes open. There was a pillow crease on his cheek, and his hair was flat on one side and spiked where your hands had run through it. It was his sleepy eyes that did you in, though. 

“Fine,” you whispered and smiled against his mouth when he kissed you. After a few minutes spent trading lazy kisses, he pulled himself out of bed and dressed. Before he left, he ensured you texted your boss and promised to return in a few hours. 

True to his word, he was back by 9:00AM and quickly changed out of his uniform into a pair of Navy sweats and a t-shirt while you made him a honey lavender latte that he loved to hate. 

Slowly, over the course of the morning, he got you to talk. You reluctantly told him why you were so mad yesterday - as much as Karrow touching you had pissed you off, you still had to work with him, and Jake’s posturing could make it awkward. He apologized and had to rein in his anger when you avoided his eyes when he asked if people touched you at work like that. When you tried to say it wasn’t a big deal, that it was the comments and looks that were worse, he saw red. 

“Darlin’... you know that’s sexual harassment.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered. When he asked why, brushing away your tears, you shook your head. “‘Cause then I have to do something about it.” 

With your face buried in his chest, you told him about leaving Florida after an awkward breakup. Your ex had moved into your apartment slowly, spending more and more nights at your place even though you’d told him you didn’t want to live together. When his lease was up, he’d expected you to add him to yours and had even told his roommate that he was moving out before talking to you about it. He’d told a mutual friend he was planning to propose, and you quickly ended it. When the opportunity to come to California came up, you jumped at it. 

Jake reluctantly talked about his past. He said he was lonely at his first base and had trouble finding his footing in his new squadron. He was throwing himself into work and needing to prove that he’d earned his career as an aviator, so he made some stupid decision. Another new aviator, Bradshaw, had called him Hangman after an exercise, and the callsign had stuck. He hated it. He hated that he would always be reminded of the arrogant twenty-year-old kid he’d been. So it was easier to lose himself in a relationship that wasn’t good. He’d loved his ex-wife, and loved the stability their marriage gave him, but knew that she was cheating on him when he deployed. When he got orders to California, she stayed for three months before returning to New Orleans. She’d had some health problems, so they stayed married so she could stay on his health insurance. They’d only divorced because she’d wanted to remarry. 

Later, your linked fingers were pinned over your head, Jake’s weight holding you down as he slowly rolled his hips. No matter how much you begged him to go faster, harder, he kept to the slow rhythm, straining to hold still when you both got too close to the edge. He savored the way you gasped his name against his lips. He let go of one of your hands to wipe a strand of sweaty hair from your face and smiled at your glazed expression when your eyes met his. “Please,” you whined. He caught your hand as it drifted between you and shook his head. After he kissed your palm, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close, biting his lower lip. “Please, Jake.” 

Unable to deny you anything, his fingers drew slow circles around your clit. He crushed his lips to yours, forcing you to swallow the three small words that almost slipped out as you clenched around him. 

A week later, Jake sat in his office, staring at his sister’s post celebrating his parent’s wedding anniversary. She’d used their last family picture - his graduation from the Academy.

He hated that picture. Hated thinking about that fucking day. Hated that his first salute as an ensign had gone to a man who encouraged him to keep up the Navy tradition of having a girl in every port as his mother stood beside him, a smile hiding her hurt. It wasn’t a secret that his father had done exactly that during his naval service. 

The phone buzzed, and his eyes flitted up to see a text. What’s your email?

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he quickly typed out his personal email address and sent it back to you. Two minutes later, a new message appeared in his inbox with an attached document. 

30-Day Contract Review Results

Upon review of the initial “Dating” contract between the two parties identified below, it is determined that all clauses and conditions have been met. It is recommended that parties continue with the contract, entering an exclusive and monogamous relationship. Parties agree that the initial “date” is identified as the night of the contract writer’s unfortunate car accident, which will be acknowledged with annual anniversary.  

Recommend the following updates to the contract:

Strike ‘person I’m seeing’ and replace with boyfriend/girlfriend as appropriate

Strike zero-tolerance weeknight sleepover policy and authorize two weeknight stays

Writer will not be required to assist with remaking hospital corners when staying at the contracting partner’s house

Contracting partner will acknowledge that writer does not snore

Writer will purchase supplies for honey lavender lattes for both households

Contracting partner will not disparage the writer’s film preferences

Parties will agree to an annual review of the contract, with ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise

The signatures below serve as an agreement to identified contract recommendations. The next review will occur on the acknowledged annual anniversary.

Your signature was already on the bottom of the document, and there was a signature line for him.

Laughing, Jake pulled up your phone number and called you.

“Yes?” He could hear the smile in your voice. 

“Are you open to negotiating the number of authorized weeknight stays? Cause I’m thinking four is a better number.”

“At that point, we would only have one night away from each other when taking weekends into consideration.”

“I’m fine with that. Three nights at your place, three at mine.” 

“That’s a lot of overnight bag packing.” 

“Only for 44 weeks. The next round of negotiations is going to include moving in together.” 

“You’re pretty confident that we’re gonna reach annual negotiations.”

“Darlin’, I have a feeling we’re gonna be doing this for a long time.” Jake heard your breath catch. After a moment, you cleared your throat. 

“I’ll agree to three weeknights, Lieutenent Seresin. Final offer.” 

“Make the edit, and I’ll sign it when I see you tonight.” 

“Fine. I’ll see you tonight, Lieutenant.”

“See you tonight,” he grinned as the call disconnected, already planning on running back to his place to pack an overnight bag. 

But when he got to his house, your car was idling on the side of the road. He parked the truck in the garage, making sure to leave enough space for your vehicle. When you pulled into the driveway, he motioned you forward until you were parked beside him. “You’re ruining my plan to scandalize the neighbors,” you huffed when he opened the car door. 

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunities for that,” he chuckled, taking the plastic bag you held out. Inside was an assortment of coffee stuff. 

“First thing first, Seresin. Grab a pen.”

“Can’t kiss my girlfriend first?”

“No title changes are approved until you’ve signed.” Sighing, he grabbed the pen from his flight suit pocket and clicked it. 

As soon as both copies of the contract - you’d insisted that you each need a copy - were signed, Jake shoved your slacks down your legs and pressed your cheek to the kitchen counter as he showed you exactly how much he loved being your boyfriend.

----------------------------------------------

Author's Note: This chapter covers a lot. Thanks for the patience when it came to writing it - between the themes, researching the F-35, and recovering from having guests, I've been exhausted. Hopefully the banter made up for the angst, and you liked seeing a bit more of each of their background. Kinda funny, but my brother in law proposed to his first wife for that same reason Jake did - a Facebook post of an empty hand.

Read Chapter 7

Tag list:

@memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @mayhemmanaged; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus

[oneshotnewbie]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 / 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᕚ---ᕘ

The Superfriends and several other DEO agents gathered in the DEO's bullpen, their faces marked with determination. J'onn, as the leader of this mission, led the meeting. "We have evidence that y/n was forcibly taken to another dimension. Winn and Lena found particles in Kara's apartment that indicate a portal."

Winn nodded and began tapping a holographic representation of various dimensions, which he then made appear on the nearby monitor. "Based on the tracks and energetic patterns we found, I believe she must have crossed over into a parallel dimension."

Lena, her brow furrowed in worry, continued Winn's initial sentence. "There are many dimensions, hundreds. And there are magical portals that allow you to travel between individual dimensions. But we have to find exactly the right one to bring y/n back. The human body genetics are not attuned to other dimensions and if we take too long it can have dire consequences for her."

Winn studied maps and data for signs of anything unusual while Supergirl and the others talked about what the chances were of finding the right portal before he found anything. "It appears that these dimensions are all unstable. There are energy fluctuations that suggest they are not naturally occurring. Someone or something is behind this."

"Can you locate the portal?" the Martian asked and the young man began typing furiously on his keyboard, analyzing more data. "Yes, I can trace and locate the portal's trail. However, it moves through different locations, making it difficult to search, but there is a pattern."

"Good, then let's not waste any time. We have to get y/n back unharmed. Where do we start?" Supergirl was impatient and the chances of her survival in other dimensions made her increasingly tense. She looked at everyone gathered at the round table and waited for the technician's answer on this matter. "Your apartment."

The Superfriends set off, ready to solve the mystery of your whereabouts. They followed the traces of the portal into Kara's apartment, while the magical energies revealed their presence in her living room. Winn positioned himself in the center of the room, the device in his hands beeping in a monotonous sound. "This is where the energy flow seems to be strongest. I'm opening the portal right at this point, get ready."

Everyone involved nodded in unison before positioning themselves a little further to avoid being caught in the first strong vortex of the approach. Winn, with the simple knowledge of his trade, opened the colorful portal, the stream of mixed air forming a strong suction. "There it is, we have to get through it!"

J'onn was the first to walk through the portal. The others followed cautiously, ready for any surprise on the other side of the swirling and pulsating portal as they were carried into a world unlike anything they had seen before. The surroundings were strange, the sky an unreal dark blue and the trees streaked with strange shadows. The landscape was distorted, the colors gloomy and dark, and an eerie silence hung in the freezing air. This dimension seemed threatening and scary for everyone involved.

"Stay here. I'll give you a quick overview from above," the blonde breathed and tried to activate her flight power by jumping, but it was as if the gravity was different in this world. A mixture of confusion and concern spread through her. "My superpowers don't work here."

J'onn also felt the same. His shapeshifting abilities failed and he was unable to establish a telepathic connection with you. "The laws of physics are distorted here. We have to be careful and rely on our other abilities."

Winn, using his technical skills, tried to scan the structure of this dimension to see if this National City was built the same as what they knew. Meanwhile, Lena was also looking at her self-made equipment when she realized that her scientific instruments were also compromised, but they were hitting the traces of your DNA that she had previously borrowed from the DEO laboratory. "The dimension is playing with the laws of nature that we know. We have to adapt and proceed carefully, but I have a trace and it leads directly to her and Alex's actual apartment."

Kara, who knew every inch of the alternate dimension apartments, led the group through the strange looking and empty streets. And as they got close, she felt an eerie pressure in the air. Lena's technology also suggested that it was 90% certain that you were in there, but in relatively poor condition. "Something's wrong."

"Then we shouldn't waste any more time than we've already lost." J'onn ordered and carefully entered the apartment. The lights flickered dimly and the atmosphere was heavy. Not a second had passed when they took a step into it when a figure appeared in front of them that made the blood run cold in their veins.

It was Alex, but not the loving sister Kara knew. This red-haired woman had a cold look in her eyes, and her clothes were surrounded by a deep dark aura. “Where is y/n and what have you done to her?!” Supergirl asked, standing protectively in front of Lena and Winn, who had no combat experience.

The person addressed smiled mockingly and pointed to a captive person who was sitting motionless in a chair with magical and iron chains on his neck and wrists. Her gaze fell directly on you and your tired and exhausted figure, but your eyes met hers, in which there was a silent cry for help.

J'onn tried to make telepathic contact with you again, but it was as if there was an impenetrable barrier between you and him that he couldn't break through. Alex laughed darkly. "You can't do anything. Here I am the ruler and you are powerless. I'm sorry, but she's mine now."

The Superfriends now faced a tough challenge that tested not only their skills, but also Kara in the deepest ways. She stared at the woman as she maintained her defensive position and began to negotiate in a calm but firm voice. "Alex, please. We know that you have lost your wife and miss her dearly. But our y/n.. She doesn't belong here, she will die if she stays here any longer. This dimension is not meant for her!"

Alex smiled smugly and took long backward steps towards you. She knelt down in front of you, her fingers gently caressing your chin as she looked into your eyes. A veil of tears covered your eyes and you flinched away from her touch. "She will stay here and take my wife's place. Same character traits, same looks. I just have to train up the evilness in her."

While the redhead turned away from you, Lena took the opportunity and slowly crept into an adjoining room that led her directly to you. Supergirl didn't notice anything at first, but the other two men did and tried to keep Alex in check with distraction.

Lena quietly reached your side, but remained hidden in the doorway and whispered soothing words to you. "I'm here, honey. You just have to hold on a little longer."

You nodded slightly, restricted in your movements as your eyes reflected fear mixed with hope. Winn was currently watching the portal's activity on his monitor, keeping track of the time they had left before the portal would close forever. "It's now or never, guys. We don't have much time left." He whispered, pressing his statement.

J'onn drew attention to himself by walking towards her and threatening her in her personal space while Supergirl charged forward and incapacitated her with a well-aimed blow to the neck. Using his technical skills, Winn deactivated the energy sources of your bonds, which the redhead had enhanced with her powers, and the power on your neck that emanated from them began to fade.

At that moment Lena freed you from the chains and you gratefully threw your arms around her neck, barely able to hold back your tears. While the black-haired woman tried to calm you down, Alex was persistent and tried to recover from unconsciousness, but Supergirl kept her at a distance to keep you safe, placing the chains that had once adorned your neck around her. "She will not stay here but will leave this place. You will no longer have any power over her."

Lena stood at your side, a gentle smile on her lips as you slowly propped yourself up with Lena's help. You felt too weak, as if time in this dimension was sapping your strength, and she put an arm around your waist to help you walk. "Darling, how are you feeling?"

You tried to smile, but the exhaustion was clear in your eyes and face. "A little weak, but I think I'll survive. Thanks for saving me."

"The Superfriends always stand up for each other," the blonde suddenly spoke as she carefully stepped closer to you and gently pulled you into her arms, rubbing her hands soothingly over your back. "It's good to have you back."

"Thanks, Kara. For everything." You whispered imperceptibly and she let go of you, gently wiping tears from your cheeks that still seemed to be lost. "Not for that, you're family. But we have to be careful now, y/n/n. Returning from this alternate dimension will be very stressful on your body."

You nodded weakly and exhaled deeply. You leaned heavily on Lena as she slowly moved with you through the dark atmosphere. The air seemed to shimmer here and the surroundings seemed unreal and threatening to your eyes. The forces of this world pulled on you as if they were trying to devour your energy and you latched onto the black-haired woman wearily, the dizziness momentarily taking over you.

"We shouldn't stay here too long and move faster. The portal will close soon," said Winn, keeping a close eye on the surroundings while at the same time analyzing the remaining energy flows. Supergirl and J'onn were currently forming a protective barrier around you and Lena, feeling the strangeness of this atmosphere deep in their consciousness. "Not just because of that. It's been too long for Y/n, her body can't take it much longer. She's about to pass out."

"We have to hurry," Supergirl spoke composedly, her words swallowed by the murky air. "Y/n, we're almost there. Hang in there."

You nodded weakly and concentrated on moving forward step by step as the atmosphere continued to sap your strength. When you finally reached the portal, Lena sat on the floor with you and gave your exhaustion a break. The other two stood guard, ready for any unexpected turn of events while Winn took control of the technology. "I will ensure that no further portals can be opened into our dimension after we return."

Looking back on these negative experiences, your thoughts turned to the days you had overcome here. Only a warm hand from Lena on your shoulder let you out of them again, a touch of relief sparking within you when you saw a black vortex of wind open up in front of you.

Seconds later, you returned to the correct dimension. The swirl of paint closed right behind you and the young guy completed his job by locking it securely. It disappeared, and the eerie world of the alternate dimension was now safely locked away. You leaned against Lena, exhausted, before you briefly tipped over and J'onn caught you just seconds before you hit the ground. "She needs to get medical attentions immediately. I will fly her, meet me there.“

ᕚ---ᕘ

When you got to the medical department, J'onn immediately lowered you onto a stretcher and was happy to see that you were still conscious. Doctors immediately had their hands on you, trying to stabilize your condition with fluids and watching you to make sure you hadn't suffered any serious effects from the trip.

You closed your eyes briefly, not noticing when your real Alex reached the DEO's medical department, which she was allowed to leave a few hours ago, and quickly walked over to you before sitting down next to you. A relieved but also worried smile crossed her face as she gently stroked your hair and she carefully leaned over you, wrapping you in her arms. "Are you okay? Are you in pain? I missed you so much."

Returning the firm grip, you felt the love and concern that Alex felt for you and you also noticed that the burden was visibly lifted from your shoulders as you held her safe and sound in your arms. "I missed you too. And I'm fine. I'm just really tired and weak."

Suddenly you both let your emotions flow and she hugged you tighter, as if she could keep you close to her forever. You closed your eyes again, sheltered in her arms, feeling the familiar feeling of safety that only Alex could give you.

The silence in the room was only broken by the gentle breathing of both of you. Alex finally broke her silence, just whispering in your ear with a loving intensity. "I thought I had lost you. Thinking about it for the last few hours has been unbearable."

With the last of your strength you held her even closer to you, placing soft kisses on her hair as her head rested on your chest. "I'm here, babe. I'm with you again. Nothing will ever be able to separate us."

The redhead lifted her head to look deep into your eyes. Your eyes met, and in that moment the full depth of your love and the fears you had endured were reflected on both sides. "I love you so much," Alex confessed, her voice broken by emotion as tears began to dance on her cheeks.

You smiled, a mixture of happiness and gratitude filling your body. You lifted your upper body briefly and pressed a kiss on her lips, full of passion, tenderness and all the love and care that you felt and carried within you for her. The world outside the medical ward seemed to disappear for a moment and only your love mattered.

After reluctantly breaking away from your kiss, she placed her forehead against yours and enjoyed the closeness of you. "We've been through so much together," Alex whispered. "But that was definitely the hardest thing I've ever had to overcome."

You nodded in agreement and looked for her hand, linking it tightly with yours. "You are my rock, Alex. I am so grateful that you are by my side and it is so nice to be with you again, where I belong."

The tears of relief shone in Alex's eyes and their love was on full display. A smile played on her rosy lips. "And I'm grateful that Kara brought you back. I wouldn't have known what to do without you."

You gently wiped a tear from Alex's cheek and gave her another kiss on her wet cheeks. "We always found each other, didn't we? No matter what happens, we always end up back together."

The redhead lay down next to you in the empty space, her hand placed gently on your chest to feel the still slow but steadily improving heartbeat as she snuggled against you. Her head rested on your shoulder and so the two of you remained in your embrace, aware that an unbreakable connection existed in your hearts.

The Superfriends stood respectfully behind the glass as you shared one last loving kiss before falling asleep. The air seemed to be filled with love and warmth, and the others felt that they were witnessing a very special moment. They shared a moment of joy.

[carionto]

Space Truckin'

Freight transport! The lifeblood of all modern civilizations and the backbone of the Galaxy.

Trade routes, supply chains, relocation efforts, deployment actions - everything rests on the shoulders of the transport class vessels. Well, within their bowels, but that's a less sexy phrase. Or when they haul larger things externally and have extra engines and hyper drives inside instead, does that become a horse metaphor now? Or an ox pulling a... uhh, that farm equipment before we had tractors, um...

Anyway.

There's billions of transports of literally every size and shape constantly buzzing about the Galaxy delivering perishables, non-perishables that the still existing copyright laws prevent from being printed near the destination instead, and people, who technically count as perishables, but due to other laws get their own category.

Where was I?

So, most of these are fully automated and do very basic food and other consumables runs, and require maintenance maybe once a century at most. Human ones need them once a year, since their hyperdrives don't need a stopover at a charging station, but run the tiny risk of CATACLYSMIC FAILURE BECAUSE THEY RUN ON MINIATURE STARS THAT BY NATURE CONSTANTLY EXPLODE BUT IT'S OKAY THE HUMANS SAY THEY HAVE FAILSAFES AND THOSE ONLY HAVE A 3/100000 FAILURE RATE THEMSELVES AS IF THAT'S BETTER THAN THE BIG FAT ZERO THE REST OF THE GALAXY HAS AS STANDARD!!!

Ahem.

What I was trying to get at is - Humans are nostalgic for a lot of things. Everyone has personal memories and collective history they cherish dearly, but Humans often tend to try and bring it back to life, regardless of the impracticality.

There is this one group of transports, who call themselves the "Space Truckers" and their vessels have...

wheels with tires

let that sink in

no really

actual rubber tires with air-filled liners and everything

in space

and they insist on landing on them

yes they are stupidly overengineered and can in fact hold up a ship that weighs four million tons and the inner liner air pressure is perfectly fine at around 700 atmospheres

because they can

oh and a few of them look like this

but are a lot bigger

like the size of a small city

the biggest tire is 382 meters in diameter

and yes, the biggest "truck" is called Optimus Prime and they blast Deep Purple songs all the time

and no, I don't know if it can transform

they say it can't, but I don't believe Humans when they say they "can't" do something

they always figure out a way to do it

fucking Humans

[arpmemething2]

Agent Carter quotes

Send one for my muse’s response.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"She's a cute broad. When she's not punching me in the face. Who is she?"

"I think you're a man out for his own gain no matter who you're charging."

"How refreshing to meet someone who appreciates the finer things."

"Then we may get hurt, there'll be a spray of bullets."

"Does anyone else feel a chill going up their knickers?"

"I used to strap a chair to my ass and take long walks around the neighborhood, too."

"Your line of work requires support. People who care about your well-being, who'll be there to stitch up your wounds."

"He can be thoughtless. Inconsiderate. Vain. Childish. Unreliable. Arrogant."

"Because unless I have your reports, your coffee, or your lunch, I am invisible."

"It's so hard getting straight answers out of people nowadays. Whatever happened to a nice cup of tea and a civilized interrogation?"

"Promise you'll get the son of a bitch who did this. Say it!"

"You were trying to do something good, and I believe you accomplished it."

"Well, that was a bit premature."

"What? I hate small spaces. What if the chain snaps and I fall to my death?"

"I was angry. That doesn't mean I want you to die."

"You have one chip to trade on, fear, and fear is the one tool that little girls who grow up handcuffed to their beds learn. I however am not afraid of you."

"I'd rather be the cowboy."

"To you, I’m a stray kitten left on your doorstep to be protected. The secretary turned damsel in distress. The girl on the pedestal, transformed into some daft whore."

"And I suppose the confession portrays me as what? A patsy? A doe-eyed idiot succumbed to the charms of America’s mustachioed Casanova?"

"The necklace is equipped with a tracking device so that I can monitor your location at all times. And if you attempt to move the beacon or break even one link in the chain, you will be injected with a neurotoxin which will kill you in 35 excruciatingly painful seconds."

"I wonder if I might request a sick day."

"I'm not here to make you talk. I'm here to make you sing."

"I imagine strange women traipsing through the property isn't a completely unusual occurrence."

"If I allow people to get close to me, I'm putting them in danger."

"How would you feel if we smashed that mirror with this table?"

"Darling, you have no idea."

"Never speak again."

"Get the drop on them?" You've been in custody all of an hour, and you're Jimmy Cagney."

"Am I being fired?"

"Keep your eyes open."

"I like it. I don't think the audience is ready yet."

"You weren't really going to shoot me, were you?"

"Stop wahooing and help!"

"I know my value."

"All of my inventions are in your lab."

"Darling, you have no idea."

"But they're ready for a movie based on a comic book. Sounds like a dreadful idea."

"For all I know, you did steal your inventions."

"Comfortable back there?"

"Just another day at the office."

"I figured you'd never have a problem finding a man."

"My land lady gave me an idea."

"What kind of thing is that? The alphabet? I can teach you. Let's start with words beginning with "A"

"And one more thing... tip generously."

"Now, I go to work."

"Technically, we don't even know if it works. But, let's face it. I invented it. So, it works."

"You were happy out here, and then I came and mucked up your whole life."

"Maybe I was just fooling myself."

"Then why is your mustache so sad?"

"I'm just considering all the angles. It seems you have a lot of them."

"I, however, am not afraid of you."

"I could do with a hobby."

"In polite society, one telephones ahead before trespassing."

"I understand you're not happy with your meal."

"So, I've got two foreign agents with no voice boxes fighting over a milk truck full of experimental implosives."

"I'm so sorry. Truly."

"I have a terrible idea!"

"You're new to espionage, aren't you?"

"We're still attached to a table."

[yvetteheiser]

Yvette Heiser Travel with Taste: Mastering the Art of Food Photography on the Road

Traveling opens up a world of culinary delights, and what better way to capture the essence of these experiences than through the lens of food photography? Whether you're a seasoned travel photographer or a food enthusiast with a passion for visual storytelling, mastering the art of food photography on the road can elevate your travel experiences to new heights. In this article, inspired by Yvette Heiser's insights on "Essential Qualities Every Travel Photographer Must Have we explore the fusion of travel and taste, delving into the captivating world of food photography and its role in documenting culinary adventures around the globe.

Embracing Culinary Diversity: The Intersection of Travel and Food Photography

As a travel photographer, the irresistible charm of varied cuisines and culinary traditions offers a unique chance to encapsulate the essence of a destination. From savoring street food in bustling markets to indulging in fine dining experiences at local eateries, every dish tells a story, and food photography serves as the visual narrative. The vibrant colors, textures, and intricate details of a well-prepared meal offer a rich tapestry of visual content that can transport viewers to the heart of a culture. Yvette Heiser talks about Food Photography, illustrating how this art form captures the soul of culinary experiences in her insightful discussions.

The Artistry of Food Photography: A Visual Feast for the Senses

Food photography is a delicate art form that goes beyond simply documenting a dish; it involves capturing the essence of flavors, aromas, and the cultural significance of a meal. Through skillful composition, lighting, and attention to detail, a travel photographer can transform a simple meal into a visual masterpiece. The interplay of natural light with the textures of food, the arrangement of ingredients, and the context of the dining environment adds depth and dimension to the visual narrative, inviting viewers to embark on a journey that engages all their senses.

Unveiling Culinary Destinations: The Role of Food Photography in Travel Documentation

In the world of travel photography, food becomes a captivating subject that captures the essence and spirit of a destination. From the vibrant street food stalls of Bangkok to the rustic trattorias of Tuscany, food photography becomes a means of preserving and sharing the essence of a place. Through evocative images of local delicacies, traditional cooking methods, and the conviviality of dining, a travel photographer can create a visual diary that encapsulates the spirit of each destination, inviting others to embark on a gastronomic adventure.

The Tools of the Trade: Tips for Mastering Food Photography on the Go

Mastering food photography on the road requires a combination of technical skill, creativity, and an understanding of the unique challenges posed by different environments. From selecting the right camera equipment and lenses to making the most of available lighting and composing captivating shots, a travel photographer must adapt to varying conditions while maintaining the integrity of the culinary subject. Additionally, embracing the local culture and engaging with chefs and food vendors can provide insight and authenticity to the visual narrative.

Conclusion: Capturing Culinary Adventures Through Food Photography

In summary, the amalgamation of travel and culinary exploration presents abundant prospects for travel photographers to hone their skills in the realm of food photography during their journeys. By immersing themselves in the varied culinary experiences, comprehending the artistic essence of food photography, and capturing the spirit of culinary destinations, photographers have the opportunity to craft a visual banquet that honors the convergence of travel and gastronomy. Therefore, seize your camera, embark on a voyage of flavors, and encapsulate the essence of culinary escapades through the captivating art of food photography. It's the perfect time to travel in search of taste and relish the visual wonders that await worldwide.

[scotianostra]

May 2nd 1860 saw the birth of physiologist John Scott Haldane in Edinburgh.

He attended Edinburgh University and the Friedrich Schiller University of Jena, before graduating in medicine at Edinburgh in 1884. He was then appointed Demonstrator in Physiology at University College, Dundee, where he investigated the composition of the air in dwellings and schools.

In 1887 he joined is uncle at Oxford University but later left when the title Professor of Physiology was denied him. His early studies included the respiration hazards that coal miners were exposed to, and his report emphasized the lethal effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. In 1898 he created the Haldane Gas Apparatus.

He began to study caisson disease in underground workers which connected to decompression sickness, also commonly known as "the bends." His work in this field lead him to produce the tables for staged decompression, which prevented the development of nitrogen bubbles in the diver's tissue as they ascended from their working depth.

Haldane's approach was in contrast to French physiologist Paul Bert's continuous - ascent decompression procedures of that period. Although developed for the trade of diving in 1907, the staged tables are equally applicable in the recreational and technical diving fields. Engineers sought his opinion on ventilation and respiratory issues when designing submarines, tunnels, mines and ships.

In 1915 Yale University honoured Haldane by selecting him to deliver the Silliman Lectures. The lectures became the basis for his 1922 book Respiration, which is recognised as a landmark work in the field. Haldane received numerous awards and honours for his work.

His work on high altitude physiology, diving physiology, oxygen therapy, and carbon monoxide poisoning led to a sea change in clinical medicine and improved safety and reduced mortality and morbidity in many high risk situations. During the First World War Haldane was able to identify the use of disabling chlorine and phosgene gas by the Germans, and designed the first gas masks for use in chemical warfare and also an oxygen therapy equipment to treat its victims.

John Scott Haldane died in Oxford on the night of 14 March/15 March 1936, soon after returning from a trip to investigate cases of heat stroke in the oil refineries in Persia, he made lasting contributions to improved working conditions years before health and safety itself became an industry, and he never failed to give credit to colleagues. He is considered as ‘Father of Oxygen Therapy’.

[aoxue]

AU ask game: Yi City peeps in space! What are they doing? 🤔

What are they doing indeed! There are so many ways to answer this prompt.... I'm going to go with a scifi setting with manageable interplanetary travel, in the vein of Star Wars or Star Trek (without the same major institutions). There are other alien races, but solely for the sake of simplicity, I'm going to say our quartet here are all human.

Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan are technically merchants, in so far as the work takes them all around the major trade routes through space. But they're not concerned about getting rich; Song Lan manages trade agreements and sales so they just have enough income to keep going, and their profits mainly come from wealthy markets where people won't miss the money. (Xiao Xingchen would give away their stock if someone in need asked him nicely).

Their focus is instead on helping people along the trade routes, especially in far-flung planetary systems that get less traffic and are a little more lawless. They offer aid, cheap food and resources, and useful equipment that might otherwise be hard to come by. They try to keep a low profile, but they're still wanted by several parties for interfering with their jurisdictions' affairs (powerful gangs, corrupt rulers, that farmer who owned the sand beast they killed because it was terrorizing the nomads on the Sand Planet, and who had ever heard of someone keeping one as a pet).

Other members of the MDZS cast exist in this world, too, but they're in more central places and positions of power, members of the Intergalactic High Council or whatever. By and large, they don't bother coming out to the fringes of Civilization.

Xue Yang is a mechanic on one of these far-out planets, and songxiao bring their ship to him for maintenance and repairs, and he doesn't ask too many questions. (Well, he'll ask to be annoying, but he doesn't actually care about the answer, or so he says, and will work with them regardless.) He runs his own operation and does good work for as sketchy as his shop might look. He gets business from some customers with pretty fat wallets, and a lot of that money does not come from savory places. But he keeps his nose out of people's affairs and the business keeps coming.

A-Qing is a street kid (as usual) on one of these distant planets; could be the same one Xue Yang is on, and she annoys him but will still hide out in his shop when situations get sticky. She stows away on songxiao's ship one day :) They only find her when they're far away from her planet, and then they have to outmaneuver some thugs in a drawn-out cat-and-mouse pursuit through an asteroid field or something and then lie low for a while. And. Well, A-Qing lives here now

AU ask game

[galwednesday]

This week's deep dive rec is Wall Street Journal reporter John Carreyrou's investigation into infamously fraudulent biotech start-up Theranos and its founder and CEO, Elizabeth Holmes, which conveniently comes in both book and podcast format. Podcast summary:

She was once the world's youngest self-made female billionaire. Now Elizabeth Holmes, founder of the blood-testing startup Theranos, stands accused of leading a massive fraud, and lying to investors, doctors, and patients about the capabilities of her technology. If convicted, she faces up to 20 years in prison. But Elizabeth may be able to sway a jury with her charisma, highly unusual defense strategy and the fact that key evidence has gone missing. John Carreyrou broke the Theranos scandal. Now he’ll take you into the courtroom as he examines Silicon Valley’s fake it-til-you-make it culture, and the case against Holmes.

Episodes 8 and 9 are particularly interesting looks into how Theranos secured funding and partnerships using faked demos, and how this strategy fell apart when potential clients pressed for more technical details. Episode 8 summary:

Elizabeth Holmes wowed investors, board members and journalists with live, in-person demonstrations that made it seem like her blood-testing machine worked. But most of these demos were faked. Behind the scenes, the blood samples were tested either manually or on third-party lab equipment. It's an astoundingly bold deception that was enabled by a software application Sunny Balwani wrote.

Episode 9 excerpt:

NARRATOR: The DOD contingent pressed for more information on how the black box that looked like a big desktop computer tower even worked. Holmes and Edlund refused to answer. That was a trade secret, they repeated. Frustrated, one member of the DOD delegation blurted out, "I'm starting to believe the device is just a box of Palo Alto air." Sensing that they were fast losing credibility, Holmes and Edlund made a small concession. They agreed to pass around the white rectangular cartridge containing the blood sample that slotted into the front of the device. Wagar asked what was inside the cartridge beside the blood sample. WAGAR: And they're like, we're not going to tell you. And so when I got to me, I reached into my pocket and pulled my Swiss army knife out and I started to try and cut it apart because you know, I'm curious and that really wigged them out. Um, I think they kind of jumped over the table to take it back from me. And I laughed at them and I said, you know, you realize that if you actually let this thing out into the wild, the first cartridge, people are going to tear it apart to see how it works. You know, you can't nondisclosure the entire Department of Defense.

[blueiscoool]

Rare Ancient Stamps Found in Denmark

In the center of Falster, southeast of Denmark, a man with a metal detector has made an important discovery. The discovery is so important that it could help write a few chapters for Danish history or at least the local history of Falster.

While Lennart Larsen was out on a rainy day and searching for anything of historical value, he suddenly heard a faint beep in his equipment, and when he checked the ground, he discovered small, interesting objects, unlike anything he had seen before.

A faint beep has indeed revealed a special stamp in the ground – a so-called Patrice – that was used to make gold images, which are believed to be gifted to the gods.

The Museum Lolland-Falster has been informed. The only two-centimeter-long object in Falster’s soil may be a trace of a former royal power on Falster, the museum said.

“This indicates that we are standing in a place that has meant some trade and probably also had some form of cultic activity. And although it’s a bit wild to say, it could also indicate that it was once a center of power on Falster,” museum inspector and archaeologist Marie Brinch from the Lolland-Falster Museum said.

She emphasizes that the discovery was made in an area with names dating back to the Viking Age or even earlier and that the marshland was discovered in an area that had been sacrificed to the gods in the century preceding the stamp’s creation.

Archaeologists have before come across several signs of activity from the Iron Age and the Viking Age have been found, including an enormous shipyard and a large castle from the Viking Age at Falster. However, only a small number of discoveries have been made that can demonstrate where the island’s wealthy elite resided in the years prior to the beginning of the Viking Age. The new find may help to shed light on that.

Researchers have determined the tiny objects are stamps from the era just before the Viking Age. They were created between the years 500 and 700.

According to Margrethe Watt of the National Museum, who collects and researches ancient gold coins and stamps, these are extremely rare. There have only been 28 stamps discovered in the entire Nordic region, including the one from Falster, and it is a very unique stamp. South of the Baltic Sea, no stamps or gold coins have been discovered.

“The stamps are all very special. We only find them in the most important places of residence – those that we call the central places in the technical language. These are the places that we associate with the greatest magnates or kings. That’s the league we’re in here. And this stamp is at the same time very much for itself in its style,” she says.

“On the stamp from Falster, you can see a person in fine clothes, standing with their hands at a very special angle. The hands are down, and the palms are visible. It is something that we know in both Christian and pre-Christian cultures as either a sign of submission or a revelation. It is also a symbol that we see in many churches today, Watt explains.

Neither the god nor the king were shown as weak or flawed in any way. And you don’t see that on the stamp from Falster either. “This means that it is either a royal figure who submits to a god – or that it is a god who reveals himself to a human being,” she says.

“It is actually difficult to see if it is a man or a woman who is depicted. You would see that by the fact that there is a tuft of hair on the back of the piston. But it may well appear that there is, she says, and emphasizes that it requires further investigations to determine whether this is the case.

As there may be more finds in the ground at the site, Museum Lolland-Falster does not yet want to publish where the find was made – but states that it was made in central Falster.

By Leman Altuntaş.

[realspooks]

Paranormal order Eggs character sheet remake

Specialist

Ramón

Origin: Engineer CLASS: Specialist TRAIL: Technician

His main skill is maintaining and repairing the valuable equipment his team carries on missions. His technical knowledge also allows him to improvise tools with whatever he has at his disposal and sabotage items used by his enemies. ELEMENT: Knowledge

Inventory: -Bandolier -Smoke Grenade - Light Protection - Revolver

AGI: 1 INT: 3 VIG: 2 PRE: 2 STR: 1

-----

Juanna

Origin: Victim CLASS: Specialist TRAIL: Sniper

One shot one kill. Unlike the fighters she is an expert at neutralizing threats from afar, ending a fight before it even starts. She treats her weapon as a precision tool, capable of performing incredible feats. ELEMENT: Energy

Inventory: -Assault Rifle -Membrane Stability Meter - Pistol - LapTop

AGI: 2 INT: 3 VIG: 0 PRE: 3 STR: 1

-----

Tilin

Origin: Victim CLASS: Specialist TRAIL: Field doctor

They are trained in first aid techniques and emergency treatment, which makes them a valuable member of any group of agents. Unlike conventional healthcare professionals, they are used to the battlefield and know how to make quick decisions in the midst of chaos. ELEMENT: Death

Inventory: -Slime Jar (Lodo) -Medical kit - Pistol

Ritual: Healing (Death)

AGI: 2 INT: 2 VIG: 2 PRE: 2 STR: 1

-----

Sunny

Origin: Tycoon CLASS: Specialist TRAIL: Negotiator

Her intuition and wit are the tools of her trade. She is a skilled diplomat and can extract information easily, whether through talk, manipulation or intimidation. Her ability to assess situations quickly and efficiently can get the group out of troubles that not even the most powerful weapon could solve. ELEMENT: Energy

Inventory: -Moretti's Arquebus -Hunting Rifle - Lucky Talisman (Shinny Crown hair clip)

AGI: 1 INT: 3 VIG: 1 PRE: 3 STR: 1

-----

Empanada

Origin: Chef CLASS: Specialist TRAIL: Infiltrator

She is an expert in infiltration and knows how to neutralize unsuspecting targets without causing a fuss. Combining acrobatic talent, manual dexterity and technical knowledge, she is capable of overcoming any defense barrier, even when the mission seems impossible. ELEMENT: Blood

Inventory: -grappling hook -Ritual Components of (Element) - Pan

Ritual: Atrocious Weapon

AGI: 3 INT: 2 VIG: 1 PRE: 1 STR: 2 ♥The Combatents

♦The Specialist

♠The occultists

[jillianfahey]

Bad Batch - Afterlife? Wrecker 1 1/2 (Wreckers POV)

Wrecker looked around at all the brothers around him, hoping that Hunter was there somewhere. He hated the thought of how his brother and squad leader must be blaming himself for their brothers deaths. But he could only see the regs around him.

Picking his larger than normal frame off the floor he stood tall, looking around for his brother. There was no sign of Hunters slightly shorter than average frame and shaggy hair so he started walking, trying not to bump into any of the regs around him as he searched. It was almost as if they were on Kamino with the amount of brothers of all ages around him, and he wanted to laugh at loud at the joy the cadets obviously felt as they ran together. Not in an exercise, but because they were playing games and being brothers.

None of this made sense, but it felt nice seeing his uptight brothers relaxed even if they were still short with him. Finally the hall changed and he heard a sound he never thought he would hear again, “Technically the…” he didn’t listen further as he barreled over to hug Tech the smaller brother he was not able to keep safe. Feeling his brothers smaller fame stiffen before relaxing and stating, “While I did miss you as well this display is unnecessary.”

Over his shoulder the deliberate, “How touching.” Crosshair, their first batchmate to apparently die but was here with them safe and sound. But Wrecker needed to hug him and Echo noted with a smile that while Crosshair grimaced at the crushing embrace he did nothing to escape it. 

It took about a month for Wrecker to stop staring at his brothers who seemed suddenly alive and try to listen to them planning. But his new friend Hevy has so many plans to wreck things and that was fun too. Echo dragging them both out by the ear was not fun though. Wrecker was planning on a new batch of playful destruction when Hunter stumbled into the room. From the unkempt hair, dark circles under his eyes and hollows in his cheeks they could see he hadn’t been taking care of himself. He also needed a good shower or three but Wrecker hugged him anyway. It was a long few weeks before their older brother would let them out of his sight. 

A month or so after Hunter was starting to realize they would not disappear if they left his sight for thirty minutes Wrecker was leaning in the open area of the hall that seemed to be an unofficial gathering point for everyone. He was supposed to be listening for any information but he kept thinking of you and how he had traded work for the pair of clothes that was now next to his exercise equipment. He wanted to see you, hold you, and let you know that everything was going to be fine. 

The regs stirring around got his attention and he thought it was probably just Hunter checking on him as he had been away for longer than his older brother liked. But no, it was, “Y/n?”

The loose garment you were wearing swirled as you turned to him. Crying “Wrecker,” you ran directly into his arms and he gathered you close against him, carefully tucking the bottom of the garment down. He knew you well enough to know that the loose garment riding up to show even more of your body would make the situation worse. 

Speaking only to you as you shook, “Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He hurried to the Batches apartment. On the way he saw Hunter who took one look at your shaking form and signed ‘apartment’ before moving away again at his nod. Opening the door one handed he firmly shut it behind both of you and carried you to the couch. Setting you down he gently untangled himself from you clinging hands with a, “Hold on a minute,” before going into his room. Picking up the smaller set of clothes from the chair next to his exercise equipment he hurried out to you. You hadn’t moved from where he had set you but you met his eyes and when he held out the clothes you took them and then followed his motion to his room. Nodding once you went in and closed the door behind you. 

Running his hands over his head Wrecker silently kicked himself, he needed to do more to let you know that you were safe. But what else could he do? Trying to think though his options he heard the door open and tuned to see you in the t-shirt and sweat pants. You were no longer shaking and your face was bright with happiness as you smiled you at him, “Thanks Wrecker, your the best.”

Feeling the blush across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Its really nothing.” Then he noticed the couch and remembered that talking about bad experiences helped so he motioned to it, “Want to tell me what happened?” He thought he had a good idea but he wanted to know your experience to help you. So when you nodded and sat down on the couch he sat in the chair across from you trying to note points, quietly nodding along to show that he was listening.

At the end of the story of what had happened to you that morning Wrecker spoke, “You don’t get a room just like that,” he snapped to show quickness. “At least that’s what Tech says,” seeing that he had scared you, “But not to worry you can stay with us.” Extending his arms to show the whole apartment, “The Bad Batch lives here.”

Seeing you smile always made his heart melt a little bit, and this one was even better than usual, “Thanks Wrecker.” Then there was the sound of a stomach protesting and he loved seeing your ears turn pink with embarrassment, “Do you have anything to eat?”

Grinning at you, “Oh yeah!” Then he lead you over to the kitchen to have some of the soup Echo had made. He couldn’t remember why it was so hearty, but it was filling and good. And seeing your happiness at the meal made everything even better. 

**********************************************************************

I hope that this was enjoyable. I'm sorry it took so long for the POV of our big, soft hearted boy.

[whumpsmith-participates]

Medwhump May 2024

Day 3 - "Squeeze my hand" / Flatline

TW: background character death, death threats, gore, surgery, assault mention, verbal abuse

@medwhumpmay

Death wasn't uncommon in the illegal organ trade. Victims were either harvested for all they were worth, or they went under the knife voluntarily in unsanitary conditions and died of complications after the fact. Bodies of recently deceased were stolen and never found again, or a John or Jane Doe was claimed by sketchy individuals with false papers.

Or, if your name was Fetch, you would steal a kidney or a piece of liver as a side hustle while waiting for ransom money to be delivered.

Beep...beep...beep...beep...

Fetch was glad to be working with some equipment again. He felt much less pressed for time when he could actually see the victim's vitals, instead of having to move as fast as possible to ensure at least some chance of survival.

His clients were cheap and tried to underpay him, so since he wasn't required to keep the hostage in one piece, he decided to make up for the difference by selling one of his kidneys.

It had pretty much become a routine surgery for him. He knew exactly what to do and what to look out for, and he still worked fast, even if he could technically take it easier.

Erick was enjoying the experience a little less. He'd been in a mood since they arrived at the hideout, but Fetch couldn't bring himself to care too much. He knew the teen had several bad memories of this place, but the surgical suite built underneath the barn was too good to pass up on. So what if Erick got bitten by rats, nearly assaulted by someone, and buried his first body here, only to later dig up a half-decomposed corpse so they could stage his death.

Frankly, Fetch thought the teen was overreacting. The rats were only in the basement in the farmhouse, the man who tried to assault him died the same day, and the corpse had been burned to a crisp a year ago. But despite how he felt about it, Fetch had decided to give Erick some leniency and let him hang out in the secret room underneath the barn, even if he was visibly uncomfortable at the whole surgery part.

"Erick, I need ice."

"Ugh..."

Fetch glared at the teen as he reluctantly came out of his corner that was the furthest away from the surgical table and opened the freezer to scoop out some ice with a bowl. Then he reluctantly came closer, reaching out his arm to give him the ice, but Fetch didn't take it.

"You know that's not how it goes," he said, "you know what to do with that ice."

"I haven't washed my hands," Erick argued.

"I'll tell him to get antibiotics when I let him go, now ice him!" Fetch ordered.

Erick had the nerve to groan, before reluctantly stepping even closer and beginning to carefully place the ice around the kidney, when suddenly the monitor started beeping rapidly in alarm.

"What did you do?" Fetch asked.

"Nothing?" Erick said, "I mean, I'm just putting the ice in like you told me."

"Don't talk back to me!" Fetch snapped, "take the ice out, maybe he's bleeding somewhere."

Erick groaned again, barely having the stomach to even look at the wound, let alone to dig around in it for slippery ice cubes covered in blood and other fluids.

Beeeeeeeeeep...

"Ah fuck," Fetch said, promptly taking his gloves off and stepping away. Erick looked over at the monitor, recognising the flatline. Then he looked back at Fetch, who didn't even react.

"A-aren't you going to revive him?"

"He's asystolic, the fuck am I supposed to do?" Fetch said, "his heart stopped. He's not worth the trouble to even try to revive."

"W-won't your client be angry?" Erick asked.

"It's literally easier to just hide from them than to try and revive him," Fetch said, "can't even use his fuckin' kidney to afford it. Probably had an underlying condition that makes it no good... Get the shovel. This is your fault, so you can clean it up."

"How is it my fault?" Erick asked.

"You distracted me with your whining!" Fetch said, "now do as I say or I'll make you dig your own grave too!"

The real whump is Erick's discomfort about this whole situation, but tbh I don't feel like I described it well enough, but w/e it's something! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Feel free to imagine the ass-whoopin' he got afterwards. I'll try to come up with something more emotional on other prompts to rlly tug on the heartstrings.

Masterlist Main account