#Wonder Cement dealers

[buildjahaan]

Wonder Cement is the perfect choice for your home building needs, offering superior quality and enhanced durability. Get the best of both worlds with a cement that's designed for lasting strength and a great finish. We have the best range of options for you to choose from, ensuring your project is of the highest quality.

[wondercementpvtltd]

Role of an architect in the construction project

An architect is a person hired by a client to construct any project. An architect's major role is to plan, design, and organize a project's construction as per the client's ideas and requirements. He plays a crucial role in the construction project and is responsible for creating the overall vision for a building or structure and for ensuring that this vision is translated into a functional and safe design. 

Since India is a developing country, there is a huge scope of rapid construction activity of roads, residential buildings, commercial buildings, sea bridges, etc. The government has planned to achieve the goal of a $5 trillion economy by the end of 2025. According to the Economic Survey, India has to invest around $1.4 trillion in infrastructure development to achieve the goal of a $5 trillion economy. In November 2022, the World Bank estimated that India will need to invest $840 billion over the next 15 years, or an average of $55 Billion per annum, into urban infrastructure. It is estimated that by 2036, around 600 million people in India will adopt the urban lifestyle, which will be almost 40% of the total population. Therefore, this particular statistic clearly indicates that this will create many opportunities for architects. Hence there will be a huge demand for an architect in the construction project.

Role of an Architect

The first step in a construction project is the conceptual design stage. Here, a meeting is initially conducted between a client and an architect, and as per the client's requirements, the goals, budget, and site design are finalized. The architect will then create a conceptual design that meets these requirements, considering factors such as zoning regulations, building codes, and the surrounding environment. Once the design is approved, the architect moves on to the schematic design stage, where they create detailed plans and elevations of the building. During this stage, the architect will work closely with engineers and other consultants to ensure that the design is structurally sound and meets all necessary building codes and regulations.

The next stage is the design development stage, where the architect creates more detailed drawings and specifications for building construction. This includes floor plans, electrical and plumbing layouts, and details of the building's exterior and interior finishes. The architect will also coordinate with other consultants and contractors to ensure that the design is feasible and meets the client's needs. The contractors will take care of the necessary things by arranging the quality materials like steel, bricks, timber, rock, stone, sand, tiles, the best cement in India, and other building materials. If the construction project is not big enough, then some of these building materials are available in the shop of any cement dealers nearby.

After the design development stage, the architect will move on to the construction document stage, where they create detailed construction drawings and specifications that will be used by the contractor to build the building. This includes structural drawings, electrical and plumbing schematics, and detailed instructions for the construction of the building's various systems and components. The architect will also review and approve all submittals, such as shop drawings, product data, samples, and mock-ups submitted by the contractor, to ensure they comply with the construction documents.

During the construction phase, the architect takes important updates by monitoring the contractor's progress and ensuring that the building is constructed per the plans and specifications. The architect will visit the site regularly to monitor the progress and review the contractor's work for compliance with the plans, and provide guidance and direction as needed. They will also coordinate with other consultants and contractors to ensure that the work is proceeding smoothly and that any issues that arise are addressed on time.

Architects are also responsible for the aesthetic design of the building, which is one of the most important aspects of a construction project. A building that is visually pleasing and harmonizes with its surroundings can significantly increase the value of the property and the surrounding area. Additionally, a good architect will consider the environmental impact of the building and strive to use sustainable materials and methods to reduce the building's carbon footprint.

Finally, the architect will conduct a final inspection of the building to ensure that it has been constructed per the plans and specifications and that all necessary permits and approvals have been obtained. Once the building has been completed and all necessary approvals have been obtained, the architect will close the project.

In conclusion, the role of an architect in a construction project is vital. They are responsible for creating the overall vision for a building or structure and for ensuring that this vision is.

[misasimagines]

desperation / reader x Taiga (Tokyo Debunker)

included characters: Taiga! Romeo is a guest.

rating: NSFW!!!! The actual start of smut is marked with a (***) so if you wanted to read the rest and skip that, you can, but otherwise please. It's smut.

warnings: general Taiga warnings? gun, blood, biting, sex. let me emphasize blood. FEM BODIED READER! Not gender neutral.

anyway first smut fic and first time writing about Taiga, everyone please go easy on me. @ the ask who wanted possessive Taiga, uh, I hope this works for you

Taiga was an enigma to you. He seemed like a dozen different people all wrapped into one threateningly sharp package. Sometimes, you watched him gambling, feet kicked up on the dealer’s table, eyes glinting with mischief, and thought being around him would feel like life itself. All excitement and impulse and adrenaline and it made your heart race with the adventure of it all. You could imagine your own Bonnie and Clyde romance, doing whatever you wanted, getting whatever you wanted. Living solely for thrill and satisfaction.

Other times, you hid as he slouched through Sinostra, blood covered, eyes empty. You hid because you knew he wouldn’t even remember who you were after he finished gutting you and leaving whatever was left to bleed into the carpets. You hid and you shamefully wondered how bad it would be to step into his line of sight. Just risk it. You could be the rabbit jumping into the wolf’s mouth just to avoid the pain of being cut in two. Would it be so bad?

Today was different. Today, you didn’t watch him from the entrance of the casino or with a held breath around the corner in the hall. Today, he was sitting across from Romeo, head leaned back and staring up at the ceiling.

“-from a general admissions student in Mortkranken. Avoid the ghouls. I’ll text you the details, but take it back to your room first, do not come here. Someone will come pick it up from you. Do you understand?”

Sounded complicated, but that was par the course with Romeo. You wondered if he had you running drugs (again) and, with a nod of agreement, you decided it was best if you didn't know. It wasn't your choice to be Romeo's drug mule anymore than it was to be his secretary and verbal punching bag, but hey, it paid the bills. So to speak.

“Repeat it,” he demanded, arms crossed and staring down his perfect nose at you.

“I’m picking up your package from a general admissions student in Mortkranken. I’ll avoid Yuri and Jiro and take it back to my room and wait for one of your guys to come get it. Does that cover it?” You responded, crossing your own arms in retort. You were willing to put up with a lot when it came to Romeo, but that didn’t mean you had to do it with a smile and a nod.

His eyes narrowed slightly, annoyed by your attitude but unwilling to spend the energy on reacting to it. “Just go.”

You stood up and managed only a step before Romeo gave you another order.

“And take those folders to Shinjo on your way.” He gestured to a stack of papers sitting too close to Taiga.

It felt like trying to take a bowl of food from a territorial dog and you felt your blood pressure rise as you considered what violence he could enact simply for you getting in his space. He could rip you apart with his teeth, that was always an option. Or he could shoot you with any number of guns he just so happened to always have on him. He also wasn’t a stranger to beating people with blunt objects, though you didn’t see a baseball bat or metal bar in the vicinity. That option was probably off the table for now.

You stilled your racing thoughts. He wasn’t even paying attention. The papers weren’t his. Romeo was right there. You would be fine. You reached down for the folders.

And he snatched your wrist, his gaze dropping to you and cementing you in place. “You love taking orders, don’t you, kitty-cat?”

His grip wasn’t particularly tight. You didn’t feel your circulation cut off, your bones being ground into dust- no, he just held you. Kept you there until you answered his question, a question you didn’t feel so inclined to answer. Enjoy taking orders- of course you didn’t delight in being Romeo’s servant. To anyone else, you might have snapped at the insinuation. But no one else was Taiga, and snapping at him could mean getting your bones snapped in retaliation. Your heart raced and you wondered if Romeo would intervene. Probably not, not unless there was a risk of staining his furniture. You didn’t want to let it go that far.  “Let me go,” You insisted, voice more of a squeak than you intended.

Taiga cupped a hand around his ear and pretended he couldn’t hear you.

“Let. Me. Go.” You repeated, a decibel louder.

“No one told you you couldn’t leave.” He responded casually.

You flushed with indignation and wrenched your wrist free, grabbing up the files and almost running out. No one told you you couldn't leave…as if you needed permission. As if he hadn't forced you to stop. As if being Taiga didn't carry unspoken rules and crossed boundaries. As if- no, you didn't need to waste your thoughts on more as ifs. You knew the connotations he brought with him with every action, just by virtue of being Taiga and you know he had no reason to acknowledge them himself.

You just needed to leave. Still… As you rushed out, you wondered why he’d asked you anything. He certainly had never given you the attention before. You would have felt better if you knew he watched you on the way out, maybe with interest, maybe with disappointment, but as you reached the door and shoved your way into the hall, you peaked back. 

He was back to staring up at the ceiling.

~~~

It had been a long few weeks. Back and forth from house to house, you never had a chance to catch your breath. If someone wasn't ordering you to do something with a sneer, they were putting you in a situation where you ended up with bruises and scrapes and potentially even worse injuries. They didn't all intend to hurt you, but the results spoke for themselves and you did hurt. The hurts just weren't all visible.

It didn't matter that your hips ached and your feet were sore and there was a split blister on the back of your heel that bled into your sock. You had another errand to run that you were going to be late for and Romeo was going to kill you. You ran, letting out breathless apologies as you bumped into Sinostra students on your way to Romeo’s VIP room. A nearly overflowing bag bounced around in your arms and used your chin to try to hold the tons of little plastic baggies in place as you rushed. It wasn’t the best feeling, being so close and personal to what you could only assume was illegal, mind altering substances, but an accidental whiff of cocaine was definitely less painful than a lecture from Romeo. In fact, it might have made the impending lecture bearable.

Turning a corner, you slammed into something and your bag lept out of your arms.

Taiga had his hands in his pockets, hardly phased from your extreme collision. You had managed to stay upright, but your contraband was scattered all over the floor. 

“Fuck,” you hissed.

“You gonna pick all that up?” Taiga asked, making no move to help you.

You took a careful breath to steady your anger.  “I have to,” you responded as cooly as you could before crouching to start your collection. 

Once again, with the same pressure as before, Taiga grabbed your arm and pulled you back to standing. “Do you enjoy any of it?” He asked, nudging a bag with the toe of his shoe.

“Enjoy what?” You asked, watching his hand on your upper arm carefully.

“Anything.” He didn’t clarify.

Or maybe he did. “I-” You exhaled, tried to find some way to answer this impossible question. No? You didn’t enjoy being Romeo’s drug mule. No, you didn’t enjoy being passed around from house to house at Darkwick, the newest intern in every room you stepped into. No, you didn’t enjoy having your life uprooted, your identity all but erased so you could be whatever anyone needed you to be. No, you-

“Gah, you’re depressing,” he made a sound in the back of his throat, a rolling sigh, and then the corners of his lips curved into a smile. “Come with me.”

You had no time, or chance, to flounder, leaving Romeo’s import all over the floor as Taiga dragged you off into the casino. As you were led off, you couldn’t even imagine a world where you said no, where you got on your hands and knees and picked up every little bag and brought it to Romeo and still got yelled at. You sped up to walk faster, to keep up with him, to choose this, and thought this was the only option for you. As crazy as it was.

Taiga deposited you at a roulette table, pushing you onto one of the stools and clapping his hands over your shoulders. With a nod and a gesture, the dealer slid two untidy piles of chips towards you.

“Oh, I don’t-” You tried to stand up. Gambling wasn’t on your list of skills and you knew better than to gamble in Sinostra of all places.

Taiga held you down, “Lets see you make some choices, kitty-cat. See how much they really matter.” He leaned close enough so only you could hear him, though everyone else at the table and the surrounding area watched with wide eyes and rapt attention. Taiga alone was a spectacle. Taiga with you? 

They were just waiting for the bloodbath. Casting a nervous eye around at everyone, you figured you had two options. Refuse and suffer the consequences, or commit and suffer the consequences. If you forced yourself to stand, told Taiga no, and left, that could be it. He would decide you weren’t worth his time, you’d stay a nameless face in the crowd. You’d be Romeo’s little gopher and you’d be miserable for the time you had left. If you stayed, win or lose, you…Well, you could win or lose anything. You had no guarantee, no way of knowing. Nothing more than Taiga’s fingers resting on your shoulders.

You bet on red.

~~~

You lost most of it. You bet, sometimes at random and sometimes with the thought of “it can’t possibly be the opposite of what I pick 4 times in a row, right?” You lost until the dealer shook his head, saying you didn’t have enough left to meet the minimum.

Taiga stayed behind you the entire time, offering no direction or tips, just sometimes pushing more chips forward than you were willing to bet on any given round. His hands were on your shoulders at first, and then he draped his arms over you, resting his chin on the top of your head. At one point, seemingly with no intention or realization, he had wrapped a hand around your neck and turned to yell at someone a few tables away. 

You stayed completely still when he did that and received plenty of concerned glances in your direction. He put no pressure on your windpipe, and finally turned back once more to watch your games, going back to lazily leaning over you as if nothing had changed.

“Well that’s that, kitten,” He yawned. 

“I lost all your money,” You admit, realization dawning and heart sinking.

He howled with sudden laughter, “Shit, yeah, you did.” He spun you around and held you by the chin, studying your wide eyed expression with a toothy grin. 

The dealer cleared his throat and continued the game for the other gamblers. 

“How are you gonna pay it back?” He asked, leaning your head back and exposing your neck.

The usual sense of being a prey animal crept up in your veins. The desire to apologize and back down and agree to anything to save your life froze your blood and made your heart pound. But you wouldn’t do that this time. Gambling with someone else’s money made you bold. Being around Taiga made you crazy. You grabbed his wrist this time, pulling it down enough so that you could stare at him directly. “I won’t.”

Someone behind you gasped, and then played it off with a cough.

Taiga didn’t stop grinning, letting out another shout of a laugh before freeing you of his grasp and stepping back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Maybe you’re more interesting than you look.” 

You held back any fits of shaking fear that were creeping up on you.

“Try that shit with Lulu, but I wanna be there when you do it, alright?” He turned on his heel and walked off. 

You exhaled. Shut your eyes. And stood up, walking in the opposite direction.

~~~

The casino was alive. Students from all houses gambled and drank and talked and lost all of their money. It was exactly what Romeo wanted. The flow of cash into his coffers would be extreme tonight.

The only problem? Taiga.

You leaned against a wall and watched him from across the casino. Despite doing something he seemed to enjoy, there was nothing akin to joy on his face. He communicated to the dealer in only gestures and each hand dealt, win or lose, gave him no hint of satisfaction. 

There was a shake lingering in your bones as you lamented the task laid before you. Romeo told you to get Taiga out and do it without causing a scene. How would you do it? You had no clue, and asking Romeo only got a slew of abbreviations thrown your way. Maybe there was some code hidden within. You doubted it.

Taking a deep breath, you accepted your fate and strode across the room towards Taiga. You were enough of a fixture in Sinostra at this point that guests and staff alike moved out of the way for you. It didn't make you feel any better about what you had to do.

“Taiga,” you said gently, “the vice captain wants to see you.” 

Taiga slung his hand of cards down on the table and collected the winning pot. He didn't acknowledge you.

“Taiga,” you tried again, “Romeo needs to see you. Lulu?”

“I heard you the first time,” he snapped. 

Your blood bubbled in frustration. “Then listen,” you snapped.

A hush fell over the table. No one looked at you, but no one could pay attention to anything but you. 

You crossed your arms, “Haven't you won enough?”

“Haven't you pissed me off enough?” 

You had no clue what you'd done to anger him so much. “What are you even talking about?” You hissed, acutely aware of the straining ears of every other gambler and staff member in the vicinity. 

“You’d kiss Lulu's shoes and thank him for the opportunity.”

You balked. The fucking audacity. “You- whatever. I'll leave you alone.” You threw your hands up in defeat and spun away from him.

You heard a click and something cold and metal pressed against the back of your head.

“You think it's that easy, kitty-cat?” Taiga's voice was low when he spoke to you. 

He was going to blow your brains out in the middle of the casino. 

“Walk.” He ordered.

You walked.

~~~

He directed you out of the casino and into the hallways of Sinostra, eventually guiding you down the corridor to his bedroom. Your heart hammered in your chest and you thought about every decision that has led you there. You thought about every way out, and admittedly there were few. 

You could throw yourself to his feet and beg for mercy, you could try to run and hope he missed, you could call his bluff and just leave. You knew none of those would actually work, but whether you died or not wasn’t the question. It was whether you survived Taiga’s inevitable disappointment that was.

You reached his door and stood still.

“You know how to open a door, don't you?” He snarked.

You opened the door and stepped inside.

“Take a seat.” 

You reviewed your options. There was an armchair, his scary torture chair, and the floor. Every option carried weight. Every option told him what you thought of yourself, what you thought you were. The prey animal in you made your knees weak and almost took the decision away from you. If you didn't use every ounce of spite and frustration you had, you'd have collapsed to your knees long before. But that was the case for this entire year, this entire curse nonsense with Darkwick. If you didn't have this burning desperation in you, you'd have collapsed long before.

Maybe that's what Taiga saw in you. Desperation. You couldn't say. You couldn't pretend to know his mind, hell, you barely knew yours. All you did know was that something about him, as terrifying as he was, made you strong. Something made you mouth off to him and something made you feel more than just fear right then. 

You took your seat on his bed.

He stared at you from his doorway, gun still aimed at you. Finger on the trigger.

You sat on the edge, the balls of your feet planted on the ground.

He broke into a grin and manic, empty laughter. He haphazardly tossed the gun onto a table and prowled towards you, throwing himself down on the bed and splaying out behind you. 

You exhaled and pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your heart hammering underneath your skin.

“You got what you wanted. You gonna run along like a good little kitty and tell Lulu you won?” Taiga asked, his grin fading into a bitter smile he directed at his ceiling.

You twisted at the waist to look at him.

His white button down was unbuttoned at the top, the collar unstarched and bent. He had his hands under his head, his red hair messy and tousled. The necklaces around his neck called to you to pull on them. The last thing you wanted was to go deal with Romeo right now. All you wanted was to give in to your desperation and he was just laying there.

You crawled over to Taiga and straddled his hips.

His eyes, so radioactive and piercing, dropped to you. Your face. Your chest. Your hands resting on him and the space he fit between your legs. 

“What do you know about what I want?” You asked him. It felt invigorating to be above him, on him. 

Taiga made no effort to move you. “You don't know what you're getting yourself into.” It wasn't a threat.

You linked a finger under one of his chain necklaces and pulled slightly. “Show me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. He hooked a leg over your calf and flipped you onto your back.

(****)

You gasped at the sudden change, your legs wrapped around him.

Taiga leaned down and kissed you. There was nothing chaste or sweet about it. He bit your lower lip, pulling it slightly between his teeth. You opened your mouth for him to kiss you again, his tongue pressing against yours this time.

He took your breath away and you grasped at his arms braced on either side of you. He pulled away and you whined, deep in your throat, completely unintentional. It earned you a self satisfied smirk right before he grabbed the neck of your shirt and tore it open all the way down.

“Taiga-!” You didn't know if you were scolding him or begging for more.

His head dropped back down, this time to your chest, kissing down your collarbones and treating your bra with as much delicacy as your shirt. You felt the embarrassed urge to cover your chest for modesty, and might have had he not immediately latched his mouth around one of your nipples. He teased it with his tongue and then let his teeth brush against it just roughly enough to send a shudder up your spine. His hand kneaded the other he couldn't service with his mouth and before you could get comfortable with the routine of the sensations, he pinched your nipple roughly and sucked on the other hard, coming off of it with a pop as he grinned down at you.

Your face was flushed but you couldn't look away from him. You didn't want to.

He didn't bother removing your skirt. He shoved it up around your waist and rubbed his fingers over your panties, “How long have you been this wet?” He teased, pressing down on your covered clit.

You arched against him, desperate for more of his touch, desperate to be rid of any remaining layers between you. His fingers sent jolts of electricity through your core. 

“Answer, kitten. You don't have to do what Lulu says, but you don't have a choice with me.” He growled into your ear as he leaned down again and his teeth grazed your earlobe.

Truthfully? “When you held your gun to my head,” you admit.

He laughed. And then bit into your neck. He broke skin and you whimpered in pain. At the same time, Taiga pushed your panties aside and sunk his finger into you. Your mind was going blank, your body not sure whether to focus on the pain of his teeth against your skin or the pleasure of his finger curling against your inner walls.

He worked his finger in and out of you and his tongue was licking the slight trickle of blood dripping from your neck. He slid another finger in as he pulled away from your neck and kissed you again. This time, you tasted your own blood in his mouth.

You wrapped your arms around him. You did know what you were getting into. This. Him. Good and bad, pain and pleasure, you were desperation made manifest and you weren't denying it anymore. 

“Taiga,” you whined into his mouth, “need you. Please.” You arched against his hand and he ground the heel of it against your clit.

He pulled his fingers out of you and you clenched pitifully around nothing, thighs flexing and chest heaving. He sat back on his knees, stared down at you, and licked his fingers clean. He looked so, so amused by your want of him and you didn't have the shame to care. Taiga took his time unbuttoning his shirt, one button after another, until you couldn't take it anymore.

You lifted yourself up and gave him his own treatment, grasping each side of his button down and tearing it apart. Buttons flew off and you pulled the rest of his shirt off his shoulders, hands immediately pressing to his chest, down his toned stomach, reaching for his belt buckle. He grinned at you and grabbed your hands, pulling them away, letting you both fall back down on his bed. He held your wrists above your head. “Don't go thinking you're in charge,” he kissed you and you let him hold you down, eagerly rubbing the back of your foot against his legs as if you could urge him to just fuck you already.

He reached down between you to unbutton his trousers and free his cock, letting it rest over-top your mound. You couldn't see it, your bodies pressed against each other, his lips on your own, but you could imagine how he'd feel just from the weight of it against your stomach. He bit your lip as he pulled away, splitting the skin and once again making you bleed.

You pressed your lips together, letting the blood coat them, and fought back a wince of pain at the feeling. 

His expression wasn't amused anymore. It was heavy, watching your tongue lick the corner of your mouth to clean away the blood. He was mesmerized. He lined himself up with your opening and pushed in all at once.

You cried out and he just caught you again, kissing you, pushing his tongue into your mouth, sucking the blood from your lips. You whined as he bucked into you, filling you so completely you couldn't imagine going back to being empty. You wrapped your legs around him, crossed at the ankles, locking him to you even though you both knew he wasn't going anywhere.

He barely pulled out with each thrust, his hips meeting yours as he slammed into you as deeply as he could. Taiga didn't let go of your wrists, his nails digging into you and you had started craving it. That pain he was so good at granting you in the midst of mind numbing pressure. You tightened your legs around him, rocking against each thrust as much as you could, feeling his cock driving into you over and over.

You felt everything in you tightening, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him as you reached your high. Taiga pulled away from your kiss, letting you moan and scream unmuffled, your back arching and your vision blurring as you came. He let go of your wrists, his fingers moving down to grasp the fat of your hips as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He hammered into you, dropping his forehead down to the mattress next your neck, right back to sucking and biting at the wound he'd left earlier. 

He groaned into your ear, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he shuddered and came inside you. He rocked his hips and stilled. He nearly crushed you with the full weight of his body, his cock still nestled deep in you as he emptied everything he had into you. 

You laced your fingers behind his neck, gently petting his hair as you took deep breaths and your heart beat slowed to something more manageable. You felt sore all over, your tongue coated in the metallic taste of your own blood, your neck throbbing from the bites. As you calmed down, there was an undeniable lightheadedness washing over you. 

Taiga licked your neck and slid out of you, rolling over on his back next to you. You keened quietly at the loss, your legs dropping onto the bed, shaking and useless.

Taiga turned his head to look at you, expression blank and unreadable. It hurt too much to turn your head fully. You could only glance at him from the slight tilt you managed.

“That’s not gonna be enough for me,” he told you, voice uncharacteristically steady.

You hoped not. 

“Don’t listen to anyone else anymore.” He rolled onto his side and traced a finger over your lips, down your neck, your chest, your stomach, and then dipped between your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat. “You're mine from now on, kitten.”

[idkbroimjusthere]

The Path I Chose | Part One

I've never posted on anything but I decided to finally write down the story I've had in my head for a while now. I have no idea when or if I will post the next chapter but I probably will if this gets some attention.

Summary: I'm a freelance CIA agent. That's not really a thing but that's what I call it. I'm working for a woman named Kate laswell on some off the books investigating. We've been searching for Information on a child trafficking ring that has connections to ultra nationalist groups through europe. I don't get to know the details, but I know enough to do my job. I know what I'm doing is dangerous, but I'm staying away from the worst of it, Right?

Edit

Content Warning: This is going to be pretty dark, cannon typical violence and all that, some implied SA, and forced proximity I guess? so no minors and read at your own risk. Also there will probably be sex cause I'm a perv

How the fuck did I get here? It was never supposed to go this far. If I knew I'd be here at the end, dying, alone, I don't think I would have ever signed that contract.

I'm standing, chained to a wall, peeing my pants because I can't hold it any more. Sharp pain shoots through my lower back and I can feel my kidneys throbbing. The combination of whatever fucking drugs they're feeding me and the fact that I've been trying to controll my bladder for what feels like, fuck, I don't even know anymore, it's really making me want to give up. I wonder if it would be that easy, if I could just decide I'm done, that I'm too tired for this shit, and die. No. I'm probably going to have to wait until these peices of shit decide they're done with me, and pray that it's soon. My head hurts. It's not bleeding like my limbs, but it is pounding, endlessly, like my heart has somehow been moved by all the shoving and kicking, and it now rests heavily in my skull. A door opens somewhere to my right and I try to lift my head to see but a wave of nausea rolls through me and I drop my eyes back to the blood slowly dripping from my body into a puddle on the floor

Maybe that will kill me, blood loss would explain the brain fog. But so would the drugs. I experimented with things in my early adult years and I'm pretty sure it's some combination of psychedelics. Everything feels far away and the cement floor is swirling under me in Van Gogh-esque patterns. It's not pretty though, it feels cold and harsh under me.

The men that I've learned to recognize since the beginning of my imprisonment have come back to try to get me to tell them answers that I don't have to questions I don't quite understand. They have every reason to believe I might know the answers, I work for the fuckin united states government after all, and for a woman I'm pretty sure has more power in these matters than she tells me she does, they probably saw that and assumed I had information about some weapons dealer's death. I don't, but I don't think that matters anymore. I was an easy target to them. I came right to them. They won't let me live, I'm sure of it. If they were going to let me go the men torturing me wouldn't have shown me there faces. One man has tattoos that I took note of In The begining, but I don't think knowing that there is an ugly looking spider inked on the bigger man's hand is going to do me any good anymore. I hate spiders. And pain. All I feel is pain. No hope of getting away anymore.

I hear someone talking but it's muffled by the ringing in my ears. My knees buckle as something solid hits my in the ribs shooting pain through my chest and spine. My guess is it's the bat that the smaller man seems to love swinging. I'm hanging by my wrists from the wall, unable to sit down because of the metal digging into me and leaving what I know will be dark bruises by tomorrow, if I'm still alive by then. They then take a step back and I hear something familiar. Something I can't quite place as I slip in and out of consciousness. The men tasked with getting answers from me shout at each other, or me, I can't tell.

They're gunshots, I think. The sound rings through the air and hits my ears with a sharp ping. My brain tries to focus as my head spins and I see the men looking out into the hallway. Before the door can even open all the way, both men are shot. Clean kills by the sound of it, just two shots. The sound echoes in my ears as my eyes close and open slowly.

Someone steps into the room, they seem to be studying me. I would be self conscious if I had any ounce of pride left, but right now, I don't care.

This person is large, taller than me but I am half on the floor right now. This guy looks huge from here. I try to stand and it takes me a moment. He watches without moving an inch, I realize his assault rifle is aimed at me.

"Who are you"

The question barely registers as I try to breathe more evenly

"I'm with, I'm a-an American, I work for the CIA" I stutter out stumbling through the words like I've never said them before.

"Please, I can't, I'm not supposed to be here, I don't know what they want from me" that's only sort of a lie, right?

He doesn't shoot me, yet. I guess somewhere in my mind I do want to live because I'm begging for help. The man says something to a radio strapped to his chest and starts rummaging around in the pockets of the two men who have been torturing and drugging me for what I can only assume is weeks now. He cuts off the bat guy's badge and pulls the key card for my room out from his pocket. He pulls both bodies into the room, like they weigh nothing, and closes the door.

He turns towards me and I shudder, adrenaline and panic shoot through me. His face is covered and I can't see very well so I have no idea what he's thinking. I'm going to assume it's bad though, this man feels dangerous, like he's one wrong word away from bashing my head in.

I try to stand up straighter and look him in the eyes but my body aches and I feel weak. I can't feel my hands anymore everything feels fuzzy.

He walks up to me and grabs my wrist. I feel the restraint fall off my wristand my arm drops to my side. As I try to bite back the pain of the blood I have left rushing back to my fingertips my other wrist falls.

The combination of all my ailments rolls through my body like a wave and I stumble. The man in front of me grabs my shoulders and sets me on the floor a foot or two to the left of the spot I had been standing in for way too long.

My head falls forward and my vision gets dark around the edges

"Hey, it's ok, I'm not going to hurt you."

I shake my head as he grabs onto my arms again. Fear of what this man could do to me if he wanted to rattles my bones

"N-no, don't touch me, please" I say, tears now falling down my face.

"You're ok, I'm going to help you, we're going to go somewhere safer" he says in low, calm voice.

I hear muffled words from an earpiece he's wearing. He holds his radio and replies "copy, I've got the key card" he leans me back against the wall and stands, heading towards the door. He swipes the card and it opens, letting in another man. He looks at me and I blink dumbly at him.

He says something to the masked guy and takes a step towards me. I cower away and try to scoot back into the corner

"It's alright dear, I'm not going to hurt you, you can trust me" he says in a light, kind tone.

I'm not sure I have a choice here, if I say no, tell them to get away from me, I'm stuck here. I don't think I can stand, let alone walk and my best chance of getting out of here is going along with this. My judgement may be clouded but something about his voice seems to make me relax. That could also be the blood loss.

"Please, I just want to go home." I'm still crying, looking up at these men from the floor in my broken, battered state.

"You'll be alright with us, we will get you out of here"

That sounds great, I'm in. I try to give a response but my mouth is so dry and it comes out as a sort of croak.

"Here, I have water" he kneels down to open a canteen on his side but it doesn't slosh when he shakes it.

"Fuck, Ghost, bring your's" he says, but the man is already stepping towards me and crouching down, bringing the open bottle to my mouth. He carefully holds the water, tipping it up slowly, and I drink as much as I can. He pulls it back and screws on the cap. I whine a little. I haven't had much food or water since I've been here and I don't feel satisfied by the quick drink at all

"Thats enough for now, we need to move."

"Yeah, captains waiting for us with the truck on the east side, building's clear to the exit"

I look between them as they speak and they both look at me.

"Ready love, we've got you, don't worry." Says the man who's name I don't know. The one called ghost picks me up again and sets me sort of over his shoulder. Pain once again floods through my body and I feel myself start to slip out of counciousness.

"You're alright yeah? We'll be out soon, just hold on" the man to our right says. It's the last thing I hear before sinking into the void of darkness that clouds my eyes.

[omniglitch-au]

“…Snare-Oh, can you hear me? Sorry to frighten you again. I suppose you’re wondering why a Forever Knight is speaking to the enemies of his ‘order,’ so I wanted to clarify a few things, for the sake of our 'partnership'.”

“The conflict with the Dagon cost us dearly. We were fractured into remnants too small to pose a threat to humanity, as your conflict with the Forever King in London no doubt cemented. But recently we’ve been gaining strength once again. The Forever Knights are digging into their history and locating old caches of alien weapons technology. These weapons are dangerous, but the bloody hypocrites have been selling them to arms dealers to fund their restoration projects. I was ordered to comb through our archives and find the locations of these caches.”

“But in my research, I discovered forbidden texts detailing the exploits of heretical splinter groups. Most of them were different in name only, battling each other for control in the wake of Sir George’s disappearance. But one group in particular got my attention: The Brotherhood of St. Ignatius. I will return with more information if I can, but...

Listen, I joined the Forever Knights to be an instrument of God, but I have erred in trusting the judgement of man. I trust you will do better with the information I have provided. God be with you.”

"...Thank you. that is valiable information to have. It was brave of you to reach out to us like you did. I hope you found a way to cover your tracks and stay safe."

[rodi-dust]

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Expert Advice on Call: The selection of the right cement for different construction work is tricky. The Rodidust team of experts is always ready to offer guidance. And support you in making the right decisions for your projects.

Conclusion

For people wondering where to get the finest UltraTech Cement in Gurgaon. Rodidust has got you covered. Whether it is about competitive pricing and prompt delivery, or exhaustive inventory and expert guidance in cement selection. They have you covered with every requirement of theirs. Whether you are at home in a small work or on commercial constructions. The best quality UltraTech Cement is provided by Rodidust wherever and whenever. Go ahead and choose Rodidust today for your next project to enjoy the incredible ease of working with one of the top UltraTech Cement distributors in Gurgaon.

Note: Also Please Like Share, and Comment on Facebook Page

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[pavitrapavi]

Tradition to Innovation: AAC Blocks Transforming Bangalore's Architecture

Introduction:

In the bustling city of Bangalore, where innovation meets tradition, the demand for sustainable and efficient construction materials has never been higher. Among the plethora of options available, aac block in bangalore stand out as a game-changer in the construction industry. As aac block dealers in bangalore continue to witness a surge in demand, it's evident that these lightweight wonders are reshaping the way buildings are constructed in the Silicon Valley of India.

What are AAC Blocks?

AAC, or Autoclaved Aerated Concrete, blocks are lightweight, precast building materials that are revolutionizing the construction landscape globally. Composed of natural raw materials such as sand, cement, lime, and gypsum, AAC blocks are cured under high pressure and temperature, resulting in their characteristic cellular structure. This unique composition gives aac block remarkable properties including high thermal insulation, sound absorption, and excellent load-bearing capacity.

Why Choose AAC Blocks in Bangalore?

Bangalore's dynamic construction sector demands materials that are not only sturdy but also environmentally sustainable. aac block in bangalore perfectly fit the bill. Their light weight block in bangalore nature reduces the overall dead load on buildings, making them ideal for high-rise structures, which are becoming increasingly common in Bangalore's skyline. Additionally, aac blocks offer superior thermal insulation, keeping interiors cool during scorching summers and reducing the need for excessive air conditioning, thus contributing to energy efficiency.

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In Bangalore's competitive construction market, reliable suppliers play a crucial role in ensuring the seamless availability of aac block. aac block dealers in bangalore, such as Prime AAC, have emerged as trusted partners for builders and developers seeking high-quality construction materials. With a focus on delivering excellence, these dealers provide a wide range of cement block in bangalore tailored to meet diverse project requirements.

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[narcotic-pharmacology]

🤲🏻 #

🤲🏻 or ‘firm’ // sender grabs receivers chin firmly

@foxyfrolic

A noise in one of the storage areas of his warehouse rattled the dealer. There's no need for a flashlight, relying on his nocturnal vision to guide him through.

"Wonder who's ballsy enough to send a coyote into my sheep pen."

He taunts out loud, peering around a corner only to grunt suddenly as he feels something heavy descend upon his shoulders, causing the drug lord to crash to the cement floor.

A low growl escapes Fool as a knife is positioned against the skin of his throat. Although he can't help but scoff a bit as the assailant grasped the drug lords chin firmly, hissing when the blade nicked a bit of flesh.

"I stand corrected. They sent a fox into my fuckin henhouse~"

[realtor4pak]

Murree Resorts - Property for sale in Murree - Plots, Farm Houses, Apartments, Angoori Road - Murree Property Dealer - PART 7

#realtor4pak #murree #murreeresorts #angooriroad #angooriroadmurree #murreeproperty #murreepropertydealer #plotforsaleinmurree #apartments

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Around 80-90 resorts are already built with modern architecture, while some are under construction with latest designs and architectonics. These resorts are mainly divided into 4 beautiful blocks named BlockA,B,C and D, whole each one of them includes 5 marla to 2 kinal plots with spectacular views so you can purchase any based on your budget and concerns. All resorts and available plots are categorized in way that elevations face towards the beautiful landscapes and deep but safe forests. Blocks are connected with luxurious comfortable roads built with latest architectures, from where you can enjoy the view of beautiful inclinations covered with forests and pine trees all around.

Currently, the Block B is the most crowded area, that includes 𝐌𝐀𝐂 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭’𝐬 Headquarter.  The beautiful land is pretty cheap at the moment but will soon be noticed by international investors, brands and hotels. The construction rate is a bit high due to hilly area’s difficulty to carry cement and other material, but the price is definitely worth the heavenly calming and soothing views.

You can come to spend quality time with family at Murree Resorts, that are away from the busiest uncomfy and stuffed roads, in the quietness of enthralling forests.

___________________________________________________________________________________ ABOUT REALTOR4PAK - REAL ESTATE CONSULTANTS IN ISLAMABAD:

REALTOR4PAK care for their clients, after day and night struggle, REALTOR4PAK produces the informative video for their viewers and clients.

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FOR COMPLAINTS EMAIL AT: Email Us: realtor4pak@gmail.com ___________________________________________________________________________________ DON’T FORGET TO FOLLOW US: Instagram: https://instagram.com/realtor4pak/ Facebook: https://facebook.com/realtor4pak/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/realtor4pak/ LinkedIn: https://linkedin.com/in/realtor4pak/ ________________________________________________________________________ DISCLAIMER: This video contains reliable information advocated by "REALTOR4PAK" however, it cannot be guaranteed as accurate in terms of opinion, investment, and planning. The buyer should verify the information by himself before taking any action. This video is for information/education purpose (only based on personal opinion) and cannot be substituted for any advice. ________________________________________________________________________ #Realtor4pak #realestate #realestateinvesting #plot #plotforsale #plotforsaleoninstallments #shop #shopforsale #shopforsaleoninstallments #files #propertydealer #Kharian #kharianpropertydealer #Islamabad #Islamabadpropertydealer #Bhimber #Bhimberpropertydealer #AzadKashmir

[nightmarefuele]

Vermilion-and-saffron is this horizontal whirlpool on an otherwise backdrop crypt. Colors. Like melting static. The Bat's seen it all before.

Amphetamine Logic.

The real reptile in the cage is a dated number. This junkie handles it with an antiquer's cognizance. Something ❛Sisters of Mercy❜ ricochets inside Bruce's ears between the guy's bladed whispers, ricochets off vinyl and plywood — placeholders, for the real thing: solid walls, solid ceiling, solid ground. And all that insomniac craze between Ben Solo/❛Kylo Ren's❜ blown optics says he doesn't have much luck with that. Taste.

The Bat unfurls. Grows. Doesn't flex, or posture, that loose-then-hardening of cement. The way it happens is simpler than all that: trailer becomes van, a cart. Night strips away its interior by noiseless nanoseconds.

❝Didn't have to come here. Don't have to stay.❞

First thing he says, and it's unclear. To whom the penumbra refers. Indifference, mortuary gloom, or just the midnight dreary: dying leaves have made larger sounds.

Oh, but sound's there, rasps and all. Tuft in the glinting stillness.

Is he trying to rile some kind of pity from him?

❝Interesting story,❞ say the leaves, ❝Not why I'm here.❞

Whatsisface is a rookie dealer, low-level. Nothing to do with the 44, even the Iceberg, he makes his bang off chew and green. Vengeance is trying out a new cape on all that; trying out new lenses, see the human underneath the disease. Whatsisface was someone's brother. Whatsisface-Martinez.

Cowl feels a bit heavier under that new body. Stinks of skin-salt and This is what happens when you forget.

❝Least we're clear on what kind of ❛star❜ you are. 'Cause I don't have the time to pull it outta you, first.❞ A pair of black beads, vaguely judgmental, track the charger-sort as he twitches. Solo's whole body a spring. ❝Put the gun down.❞ Spring, that instinct. However obsolete.

Babe. The Bat is reminded of spoiled children who play with their food — and maybe parents with their eyes far elsewhere. (Or just distracted by the cute.) Doesn't matter. He shifts, cloth sifts the vermillion twinkle in layers of shadow, and points his nose to this sort-of table: centre stage. ❝Gotham's new clown gets busted as a mule for steroids. Wonder how many of his ❛fans❜ would be surprised.❞

All these vials. He can feel them, vibrating, somewhere within. Hear that shimmer, you listen close.

❝Or maybe you got in deeper than that.❞ One side of his mouth feathers, and it's all the acknowledgement the junk's offered. Enough conversation in his high for the both of them. Three — the black oculus angles itself over to that shoji screen. ❝Settle a score? At the Lounge? Keep some for yourself? City's latest, and you're first in line to get a piece. I doubt Penguin would have any reservations about throwing an outsider under the bridge, though. Since you're not looking to become a regular. Apparently.❞

Colors bead on metal like sweat beads on Ben Solo's brow.

❝You care about her?❞ The Bat turns its head. ❝Maybe not. But maybe your reputation means something to you — touring.❞ Same as the cryptic grace about a claw, arching. ❝Put down the gun.❞

Wood shavings. Moth balls, something chemical in still quiet. Just grazes.

Place smells colder than it is.

The Bat waits even so. Reasonable cause hiding in his caliber - (Getting the readouts on some of this guy's pricier hardware, but it takes a few seconds and digital thumbing, file after file. After file.) - but that's not what has his shadow suspended across a faux pad/lounge with its complement of eclectic, not-quite rock-and-roll joints and a couple Fenders. (Thinks it's a Mustang that catches his eye, but easier to move on as stillness grows. Expands.)

He's not so sure nobody's home.

The Bat departs from the limelight; this blood orange glow that drenches the trailer (so-called) from somewhere outside. Scouts a chalk scuff of blow on a glass table. Shadow exhaling over carpet; couch; crystallized lid where glass becomes a code-locked cartridge within table's core.

Starting to nose out a tinge of panic here. All this. It's in the secrecy.

Velvet noises, skin on skin rustling over Egyptian linen. You can hear the quality of the sheets if you really listen. The small breaths passing from one mouth to another.

Toward the back of the trailer, a tinge of panic and something else—restraint. And then it shifts, this restraint. This dark braid of unrefined energy comes slowly, foot by foot, from behind a shoji screen. 

The disdainful scowl, the surly pout, the cut of his profile, hollowed by too much work, too much party, too much time under fluorescents in studios. One would have to live in a cave not to recognize his face, but at any rate, Ben Solo, who ordinarily wouldn't be caught dead in sweats, stands shirtless behind the double-barrel of a firearm, squinting at the umbrage kneeling by his glass table. 

Dark as it is, it's easy to spot the ears. And behind that, the lattice on the ol' Kylo Ren helmet.

"You got to be fucking kidding me," he hisses. "You? Even you come sniffing my way. This city."

He snuffs, skims the drop of shadow between them, pallid behemoth navigating his grotto with scotopic vision, eyes wet and black in a temporary brume of amphetamine-induced aniridia, mutant coach gun raised, the needle of the serpent's tail poised to strike. 

"Reallyritzyfuckingtown, Gotham, par Southside." Grinding his teeth as he tracks the Bat with the barrel, Ben shakes his head. Whispers, "No, don't move. Hands where I can see them. I know what you're trying to do."  

He tracks; he moves with military poise. It's not acting. Click, and that thing, that custom no one, least of all Ben Solo, should own, is loaded, locked, locked, loaded, like the corners of his jaw. 

"Where was I when whatsisface died tonight?" His grin catches in that famous everlasting Gotham red. "Yeah, I know all about that. It's news. I'll tell you. You gotta hit the Iceberg for anything that's not fucking Drops, and it's shit. You think I'm panicking? TryIjustsnortedalumpofuckin'dryice. Jesus. I can't fucking work in this place. I have a set in two days. Gonna be in limbo, trapped in this      fucking     place for two days before that, before I get to live for a few hours. And that's touring, iswhatitis-done. But last year, I heard some pyromaniac freak called Firefly burned the west stage down, and everyone died."  

Serpent's eyes narrow, shining with a joyless kind of mirth. Snake voice with the merest baritone timbre rolling beneath. 

"So, I left this trailer at twenty-three-hundred-hours-to-buy drugs, Batman. Picked up some rocks from this other freakshow called the Penguin, which you already know. There's your answer. That's what you wanted. Now you got it, at the cost of wasting both our time. Now get the fuck out."

Gun to the hatch; and one has to wonder how the fuck he got in; but in Brooklyn, Ben saw rats like five feet tall. What was a six-foot bat in boots? Just another day in the fucking city. 

"Go on, Bat. That's stage left there." He gestures with the shotgun he now lowers out of a radiant, misplaced sense of chivalry. "Beat it. You bother me." 

Then, the panic the Bat clocked when his shadow passed Ben's threshold makes its voice known: "Babe? What's going on?" 

A feminine voice and Ben freezes. Thaws, his face contorting momentarily into a hellscape of wrath. He raises the gun again, cocks it at the cape. Sniffs. 

"Man, you're really fucking up my night."

The voice, keening: "Ky-looo?"

And Ben, seeming like he might turn on his heel, walk the five or so feet, and jerk the barrel through the Shoji blinds: "Shitting fuck." (More to the Bat, almost apologetically). "I told you, do not fucking call me that. What?" (Acidic, spitting, meant for the bitch too high to notice or care that there's a strange man decked out in high-tech rave gear hiding in Ben's trailer).

The panic in the voice melts into Halcion bliss: "I'm waaaait-ing." 

"You'll keep waiting... there's V. on the bottom right. On the tape. Top up and touch yourself. I need to handle this."

"MMmndf, handle whatttt?" 

"A giant bat."

"OhmyGod, grossssss." 

Ben keeps his eyes and his gun on Mr. Cloak and Dagger, unflinching, unimpressed. 

"It's just a bat, 'babe.'" He grins and blows The Bat a little plump-lipped goodbye kiss. "Don't worry. If it doesn't fly away after a friendly, animal cruelty-free chat, I'll shoot it right between its eyes, slice it up, and eat it off your ass like sashimi."

Trailer's like a vent. Oh, if that gun went off. The colors, the sound.

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Why Wonder Plus should be your first option for construction?

When it comes to construction, choosing the right cement is crucial. The durability and strength of any structure depend heavily on the quality of the cement used. Wonder Cement Ltd, one of the leading cement manufacturers in India, has introduced Wonder Plus Cement, which is quickly becoming the first option for construction for many builders and engineers.

Wonder Plus Cement is made at the Wonder Cement plant, located in Rajasthan. This plant is equipped with the latest technology and equipment to ensure the cement produced is of the highest quality. The plant uses the dry process, which ensures that the cement produced is free from impurities, making it highly durable and strong.

There are several reasons why Wonder Plus Cement should be your first option for construction. 

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[amitbchoudhury]

‘Stories of Wonder’ digital campaign thanks cement dealers – ET BrandEquity 'Stories of Wonder' digital campaign thanks cement dealers Cement manufacturing company, Wonder Cement, through a…

[sonseulsoleil]

I would love to see something with 13, 17, or 20 from the summer prompts please! Dealer's choice.

Hello, I'm sorry this took so long! But here is a little oneshot from the prompt "lifeguard"--though I may have stretched things a bit. Also I suppose content warning for cold water and mild hypothermia symptoms. But this is really just the Paris Squad being chaotic.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Tara eyed the pool suspiciously. The water rippled gently, glinting in the moonlight. 

“It’s a fantastic idea,” Darcy answered, throwing open the gate to the pool. No one was quite sure how she managed to nick the keys from the Higgs’ P.E. teacher, but they all thought it best if they didn’t ask.  

“What if we get into trouble?” Sahar bit her lip. “It’s after midnight!” 

“Exactly,” Darcy nodded. “No one’s going to come out and check on the pool this late. We won’t get caught.” 

Charlie pursed his lips. “What if someone gets hurt?” He asked quietly. “It’s dark, and—” 

Darcy flipped on the lights. “You were saying?” 

Nick squeezed Charlie’s hand–which he’d been holding for the entire walk from Tara’s house to the Higgs/Truham shared pool. “Don’t worry, Char,” he said softly. “I’m CPR certified. I took an emergency medicine course a few summers ago.” 

Charlie blinked up at him. “You are? You did?” 

“Yeah,” Nick blushed. “You know how rough rugby lads can get—”

Darcy snorted. “I’m sure he does.” 

“Darcy!” Charlie choked out, and at the same time, Tao began to make loud faux gagging noises. 

“Anyway,” Nick said, voice firm but not sharp, a voice he’d developed on the rugby pitch and perfected with his friends. “I thought it would be smart to know what to do if someone got really hurt. It ended up being a good thing because one time Christian took a nasty tackle and I was the only one who knew how to test for a concussion before the medics arrived.” 

“See, there you have it,” Darcy grinned and clapped Nick on the shoulder. “Nicholas here is basically a lifeguard. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Tao groaned loudly. “Don’t say that!” 

Elle patted her boyfriend gently on the shoulder. “There, there,” she said dryly. 

At this point, the entire gang had made their way through the metal gate and onto the pool deck properly. The bright white of the fluorescent lights burned Nick’s eyes slightly, and he briefly wondered why they even had lights out there. Why would anyone be swimming at night? 

Besides them, of course. 

Nick shrugged off the backpack he’d brought, containing towels for both him and Charlie, as well as a water bottle and a couple of granola bars just in case. The rest of their friends did the same, shrugging off clothes and setting out towels, as if it was the middle of a summer afternoon, and not after midnight in the middle of September. 

Charlie was the first to the pool, as he was the only one who didn’t have anything to take off or put down. He rolled up his black jeans, perched at the edge and slowly dangled his feet into the water, before instantly recoiling and yanking his legs up onto the cement. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” 

Everyone stopped. 

“You alright, Char?” Nick asked, already jogging across the pool deck towards his boyfriend. 

“I’m fine,” he rolled his eyes. “But the water is fucking freezing.” 

Tara threw her arms up. “I told you this was a bad idea!” She turned to start packing up her stuff, ready to throw in the towel on her girlfriend’s harebrained scheme. 

But Darcy Olsson was nothing if not stubborn. She dipped her toe in and shrugged. “It’s not that cold.” 

Elle, Tao, Isaac, and Nick all followed suit. Tao and Isaac recoiled, the same as Charlie, but Elle seemed to take a moment to consider. It was definitely unpleasantly cold, but it was tolerable, in Nick’s opinion. 

“I guess…” He sighed, trying to be as even-handed as possible. “It’s cold, but it’s really not that bad.” 

Charlie gasped. “Betrayal!” 

“I agreed that it’s cold!” Nick tried, running a hand through his hair. “I just think it’s tolerable, at least for me.” 

Charlie giggled. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” 

“Hey!” Nick huffed. “That’s mean!” 

Whatever Charlie was about to say was interrupted by a loud splash. Nick and Charlie looked over just in time to see Darcy’s head surface in the middle of the deep end. 

“Come on in!” She called. “The water’s great!” 

“Hm,” Nick shook his head. “No, thanks!” He looked back at Charlie. “I’m good right here!” He punctuated his statement by pressing a chaste kiss to Charlie’s lips. 

Tao rolled his eyes. 

“Got a problem?” Nick asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“Besides that nauseating display of affection?” Tao quipped, though there was no real bite to his words. At this point, after over a year of friendship, Nick knew that Tao was secretly quite invested in his and Charlie’s relationship. 

“Yeah,” Nick grinned. “Besides that.” 

“Well, you said yourself the water’s not that cold,” Tao pointed out, smirking slightly. “If that’s the case, what’s stopping you from taking a swim?” 

“Tao,” Charlie said. A warning. 

“I dare you to jump in the pool,” Tao said, his smirk growing into an evil grin. “I bet you can’t do it.” 

Charlie dropped his head into his hands, knowing full well what Tao had just done. Nick Nelson prided himself on being, for the most part, pretty levelheaded. He wasn’t like some of his mates on the rugby team, who recklessly threw themselves into dangerous and stupid situations. But there was a series of words that, more than anything, made his brain immediately switch into what Charlie dubbed Idiot Rugby Lad Mode. 

And Tao had just said it. 

Nick was up from his seat next to Charlie and standing back at the edge of the water in a flash. “How much do you want to bet?” 

“I bet you £15 that you can’t jump in the pool and stay there for at least twenty seconds.” 

“Make it £20 and you’ve got a bet,” Nick responded, putting his hand out to shake on it. 

“£20?” Tao scoffed. 

“One for every second I have to stay in the water,” Nick answered easily. “Why? Are you worried you won’t win?” 

Tao’s face hardened. “Obviously not.” 

“So, then?” Nick raised an eyebrow. “Do we have a deal?”

Tao pursed his lips. “Fine. We have a deal.” 

They shook hands on it, and Nick reluctantly stepped away from his boyfriend. He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his flip flops, and approached the edge of the pool. 

“Ready to concede?” Tao asked. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Charlie said. 

Nick took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Char, but you know I have to do it.” 

“I know.” Charlie let out a deep sigh, covering his eyes with his palm. “I can’t watch this.” 

Finally, Nick dove into the pool. The water was a shock to his system, almost painfully cold. Immediately, he felt his heart rate jump. He surfaced, gasping for breath, already shivering. “Fucking Christ! Jesus fucking fuck!” He yelled, unable to hold back. 

“Twenty seconds, Nicholas!” Tao called out. 

“I know!” Nick shouted back. 

He glanced around the pool. At some point, Darcy had admitted to how cold the water was, hopped out, and was now shivering in Tara’s arms, so it was just Nick in the pool. He tried to tread water, but his muscles felt heavy and sluggish from the cold water, so he moved until he could stand flat instead. 

“Ten more seconds!” Tao yelled, waving the stopwatch on his phone. 

Nick’s brain stopped working. Vaguely he heard his friends counting down from ten, but his thoughts were slow, and couldn’t keep up. Until finally, Tao shouted once again. 

“Alright, Nicholas, get out of there!” 

Nick swam to the stairs as quickly as he could (which wasn’t that fast) and pulled himself out of the water. Immediately he was wrapped in a warm towel and a firm embrace. Charlie. He became aware of a clicking sound, which he realized belatedly was the sound of his own teeth chattering. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” Charlie scolded him. “What is wrong with you?” 

Nick shrugged, and looked up, looking for Tao. “Where’s my twenty pounds?” He spat, stuttering slightly with his chattering teeth. 

Tao huffed and pulled out his wallet, pressing the money into Nick’s open palm. “Can you take this?” He asked, handing the bills to Charlie. “I’m still wet.” 

Charlie nodded, taking the money and shoving it in his pocket. “Can we go home now?” 

“Yes,” Nick answered immediately. “I’m so fucking cold.” 

“Same,” said Darcy, who was still shaking slightly. 

Tara and Charlie exchanged a glance. 

The group (except for Nick and Darcy, who sat, wrapped in towels, shivering) collected their things and packed up their bags. Tao walked home, and took Elle and Isaac with him. Tara drove herself, Darcy, and Sahar home. Which left Nick and Charlie. 

“Please don’t call my mum,” Nick begged, giving Charlie his best puppy dog eyes. 

“Nick. I’m not having you walk home sipping wet,” Charlie shook his head. “We’re calling your mum for a ride.” 

“Ugh,” Nick groaned. “Fine.” 

Nick pouted in silence as Charlie spoke to his mum.

 “Yes Sarah, he’s fine—no, no, I think all he needs is a hot chocolate and—yes, thank you. See you soon.” Charlie slid his phone back into his jeans pocket. “She’ll be here soon.” 

Nick nodded. “Okay,” he said, unable to say much more as a wave of fatigue flooded him. 

“Hey,” Charlie put a hand on Nick’s cheek, wincing slightly from how cold his skin felt. “You alright? You know she’s not going to be mad.”

“‘M tired,” Nick managed.

Charlie frowned. “Jesus, Nick. I think you’ve got mild hypothermia.” 

“Oh.” 

Charlie stripped off his jumper—which, as usual, was really Nick’s jumper—and handed it to Nick. “Put this on, you big idiot.” 

Nick did as he was told. “Won’t you be cold?”

“Not as cold as you are,” Charlie responded. 

Nick wrapped an arm around his boyfriend. “Thank you, I love you.” 

Charlie frowned at him. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Char,” Nick whined. 

“But,” Charlie’s frown turned up into a smile. “I love you, too.” 

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 1 (6-13): Truth serum | Damian Wayne Protection Squad™ | Best friends to lovers

Note: Rushed. I'm sure it's still the 13th somewhere.

Warnings: kidnapping, nonconsensual drugging, needles.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick wakes to the taste of blood on his tongue.

Thankfully, after slowly moving his tongue around, it's just because he bit the inside of his cheek sometime between when he was knocked out and when he woke up. His head pounds like a war-drum with his heart as he tries to get ahold of his situation. Without opening his eyes, he assess his arms are restrained behind his back and he's sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair. His legs are also tied to the chair, keeping him from running.

The suit he wears feels suffocating, proof that—once again—him wearing Batman's cowl isn't some sort of sick joke. However, his shoulders are a bit lighter suggesting his cape has been taken. Not that he'll mourn it.

His cowl is on. He silently curses himself for not checking that first. It would be the first thing Bruce checked.

He always prioritized the identity. The mission. Secrecy before safety, Gotham before everything else. Not injuries, not friends, not family, partners-

Dick's eyes fly open, reminding him of the real thing he should have checked for first.

"Robin," he gasps out loud, looking wildly around the room and tugging on the ropes holding his back to the chair.

The room is dark and small, the walls made of cinder bricks that have water mold where it connects to the cement floor. In front of him is a metal table with a black, palm sized box placed on top. Dick ignores that for now and looks to his side, only relaxing when he finds Damian to his right, tied similarly to another chair with his chin to his chest. Only unconscious, Dick notes as he watches his stomach rise and fall.

However, anxiety flutters in his gut when he sees there's a dried trail of blood running down the side of his head.

"Robin," he tries again, knowing at the back of his head that Bruce would be telling him to be quiet. Check for cameras. Look for an escape route. Don't let them know you're awake until you have a plan-

Dick shakes his head. Damian could have a concussion, and that takes priority. Dick could have one as well, considering how badly his head hurts, but Damian is only ten years old and Dick knows better than anyone the lingering effects injuries could have when you're a child.

He presses his feet to the ground and pushes, attempting to slide closer to his protege. He does nothing more than jolt in place. There's not enough leverage.

However, it seems the sound of the metal scraping against the ground is enough to wake up the boy. He comes to with a small groan and a pain laced crease between his brow.

"Robin," Dick repeats a third time. He can do nothing but sit as Damian blinks slowly behind his mask; his shoulders tensing as he too notices the restraints.

Damian opens his mouth, but before any words could leave there's a loud clang. The door in front of Dick and Damian, on the other side of the table, swings open.

In walks three men; two are unfamiliar, but the third Dick recognizes from the case files he and Damian got from Gordon about a week ago. Jonas Gibbs. Known arms dealer and smuggler. He's made his moves in Gotham these past few weeks, getting the police and public nervous about shootings with illegal guns. Batman and Robin had finally pinned down the date, time, and location of his next shipment and intended to take him down then, but he was smart and had hired help from various mercenaries that Dick could confidently bet used to be in the military before they were dishonorably discharged.

The way they moved, worked, and attacked was too strategic and planned. It was only a matter of time before one got a lucky hit on Damian; a blow with the butt of their rifle across the kid's forehead. The barrel of the rifle pointed down at Damian's unconscious body was all it took for Dick to raise his hands in surrender.

And now they're here, in some damp old room. Tied to chairs. A table placed in front of them with a mysterious box set on top of it.

"Perfect timing," Gibbs says, grinning. The two other men, clearly mercs, stand on either side of him as he drags up a chair and sits on the other side of the table. "I was almost afraid we'd have to dump water to get you up."

"What do you want?" Dick growls. He must want something. He hasn't taken off the cowl… or at least he hasn't tried to get through the various traps to pull it off. It means he must need something that an identity reveal wouldn't give him.

"I'm glad you asked, Batman," Gibbs says, a grin spreading on his face. He looks to one of his goons and they immediately pull a small camera out from a bag they had around their shoulder. He points it at Dick.

Dick gets a bad feeling about all of this.

"I want you to tell your real name for the camera."

Dick glares. "Are you serious?"

"Very. One of my men has second degree burns thanks to that cowl of yours electrifying him. So, I decided I'll let you go without any more harm. You tell me your names, and I'll let you go. Won't even show the video to anyone. Well," he smirkes, "unless you get in my way."

Dick clenches his jaw. Besides him, Damian mumbles something.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," Gibbs says, unphased. "Otherwise it will get unpleasant."

His eyes drift to the black box, signifying it's mysterious importance. Dick doesn't let it scare him. He's not going to let this low life criminal blackmail him... put him and his family in danger. He'll take whatever will be thrown at him until he can work out a way to escape.

Gibbs counts down, and he reaches zero uninterrupted.

"Well," Gibbs says, unsurprised. "The hard way then. Gag him."

The grunts move like clockwork, and before Dick knows it his face is being grabbed and held in place while the other shoves a rag into his mouth and wraps a layer of tape around his face to hold it there.

"Batman..." he hears Damian mumble as the grunts back up. He sounds out of it. In pain. Dick can only hope that the hit he took to his head isn't too serious.

Gibbs retakes his attention, however, when he reaches forward and presses a hatch on the side of the black box, flicking it open on spring-loaded hinges. What's inside makes Dick's stomach drop. A needle and a glass vial filled with a yellow tinted liquid lays neatly inside. One of the grunts lifts the needle and the vial to begin filling it up.

"Do you know what this is?" Gibbs asks as the liquid fills the syringe. "I've yet to test it on anyone, but word is from the man I bought it from... It forces the truth out of you." The grunts finishes filling the syringe and flicks the bubbles. "Truth serum."

Dick has no doubt that the serum will work. He only wonders why he's threatening with it while he's gagged.

When the grunt walks around the table to Damian, he doesn't wonder anymore.

He can only tug on his restraints as the grunt grabs Damian's arm to aim the needle. Damian, for his effort, attempts to pull away, but the weakness of his head injury and his restraints do nothing to stop the needle from entering the inside of his elbow.

"You could have done this the easy way, Batman," Gibbs says. Dick watches as the syringe is pressed down, pushing the liquid into Damian's body. "I never like getting children involved."

Damian squeezes his jaw shut and turns his head away from the needle in his arm. It only takes a moment before the grunt pulls the empty syringe out before returning to standing besides his leader. A bead of blood appears where the needle left Damian's skin, but the boy doesn't move.

The air feels solid. Dick can hardly breathe as he tries to conceal his panic. He wants nothing more than to get out of these restraints and punch Gibbs and his men into next year, but he can't reach anything useful to do so. All he can do is watch Damian sit stock still as drugs spread through his veins.

A minute passes as Gibbs sits there in smug silence. Then, when a few more moments pass, he speaks.

"Robin," he says. Damian flinches, but doesn't look his way. His jaw still clenched. The goon with the camera points it right at Damian. "Why don't we start with something easy? What's your favorite animal?"

Damian curls his fingers behind his back and keeps his jaw grinding shut.

"Tight lipped huh?" Gibbs chuckles. He doesn't look surprised. Or worried. "Don't worry, I was assured that once it's fully in your system, it will hurt more to say nothing. What's your favorite animal, Robin?"

Damian says nothing, but he looks ridged. Tense.

"You look uncomfortable, Robin. Do you feel it in your head? I promise it will get better when you stop resisting. Let's try something different while we wait. Are you from Gotham?"

Damian's knuckles must be white under his gloves.

"How about your favorite color? Is it blue?"

Damian breathes a shaky breath through his nose, and Dick's heart breaks. He works harder to find a weakness in his restraints.

"My, your resilience is admirable. Were you trained on this?" Gibbs asks. Damian remains stubborn, but Gibbs still doesn't look worried. "Who were you trained by?"

"The best," Damian whimpers, cutting himself off with a growl and shutting his jaw. Gibbs smiles.

"What's your favorite animal?"

Damian shakes his head, a frustrated cry caught in his throat.

This continues, Gibbs finding victory in the one slip and pressing with everything he's got. Dick doesn't know how long Damian can last like this, and he doesn't want to find out. With every passing second, Dick knows it's only a matter of time before Damian's lips loosen. No amount of training can beat a good concussion and drugs designed to make your lips loose.

"What grade are you? Do you have any friends?"

After each question, Dick can see more and more discomfort in Damian's position. He's beginning to fidget and whimper and Dick's... Dick's had enough.

"What's your favorite color, Robin?"

"Green," Damian says with strangled gasp, sounding horrified with himself.

Gibbs smirks like a predator, knowing he's finally won.

"What's your real name?"

Yeah. Dick's had enough. With a hard tug, the ropes around his wrists finally snap against where he's been rubbing at them with his gauntlets. Gibbs and his men can barely react before Dick's upon them, cutting away the rest of the ropes with a batarang from his belt. He makes quick work of them in their shock, knocking them out and leaving them on the floor in unconscious piles.

He almost bends to put cable ties on their arms and legs, but he hears a tight whimper behind him. The moment after, he's rushing over to Damian to undo the ropes.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks, cutting through the bonds.

Damian shakes his head. Dick almost kicks himself.

"It's okay," he quickly says. "No one can hear. Let it out."

He's almost afraid Damian will force himself to remain silent, but to his relief and heartache, Damian opens his mouth and lets out a heaving sob. "It hurts- it hurts-"

Dick finally undoes the ropes, then he pulls his kid in close to his chest. "Get it out," he soothes, rubbing Damian's back.

"Dogs-" Damian starts, dissolving into quick rambling breaths. Every question he had been asked begins to be answered. Dick holds him close and lets him get it out with his tears. Silently, he sends a message to Gordon to pick up Gibbs and his men, then he messages Alfred to get the med-bay and lab ready. Soon enough, Damian is silent except for pain laced gasps, he holds tight to Dick's chest as Dick lifts him up and stuffs the vial with extra serum into his belt.

"I got you," he says as Damian continues to cry all the way to the batmobile. "I got you."

[popanalysis99]

Toxic Men in TV Series who are the absolute worst.

(TW: R*pe and Sexual Assault)

While there are some men who seem to be interesting, let’s not deny the fact that there are most male characters who act like their “toxicity” is cool but honestly, it’s horrible and something not to root for. So here are the toxic male characters who are the absolute worst, excuse my misandry:

Kevin McRoberts - Kevin Can F**k Himself

We had to start somewhere from the bottom of the underworld. A recent entry on this list, Kevin is the lead character Allison’s husband who...let’s just say has the brain of a dumb frat bro who is extremely high on pot and hasn’t recovered since then. While most of the sitcoms in the past would portray these so-called goofy and dim-witted husbands as “big fun” and lovable, Kevin is not like that, at all. In this anti-sitcom nightmare, Kevin literally believes that the whole world revolves around him. He plans such stupid unrealistic schemes to seize the day, recklessly spends the savings on stupid irrelevant sports merchandises and doesn’t even let Allison have her own agency outside of his life. Plus he is so petty and spiteful to the point he destroys one good thing that any of the women in the series have, like Allison’s dream job and Patty’s love life. And that latter was because she didn’t bring him a burger! All of this makes him look less funny and more tyrannical. No wonder poor Allison got spurred into wanting to kill him.

Ross Geller - Friends

Ross may seemed like a “nice guy”, but let’s just agree it was a facade. Ross believes that he knows what’s best for the women he dates in the series and thinks he is superior and is always right about everything. He is seems extremely disturbed over the fact that his ex-wife, Carol is a lesbian and is jilted towards her current wife, Susan and snarks at the latter for it. And then there is her extreme control and jealousy towards Rachel, especially in her career. While Rachel is no saint either, Ross jumps to the conclusion that the man who got her a perfect job wants to sleep with her, then goes out of his way to humiliate and mark his territory on her and even if it’s revealed that the said guy has a girlfriend of his own, Ross still doesn’t abandon his theory, unless he believes that the guy is cheating on his girlfriend with Rachel. And then there is the fact that he joined his student girlfriend on a spring break just to have her all to himself, not caring about the fact that what if one of his students or colleagues would’ve seen him on TV with her and that could’ve put him in a huge scrutiny.

Joe Goldberg - You

The show is basically built around how toxic Joe is, but this didn’t stop him from having his own fanbase apparently, with most of them glossing over his actions. But Joe is not a dream boyfriend at all. Once he sees a woman in front of him, he immediately gets obsessed with her and believes she belongs to him and him only. And to achieve that, he stalks her, he checks everything about her, kills people he believes are harmful to her when he himself is the same and when the woman finds out about him and rejects him, he kidnaps and kills her and the cycle begins again.

Chuck Bass - Gossip Girl

What is it with the teen drama industry’s obsession with the “Bad Boy who can be redeemed with love” trope? Chuck Bass is “the bad boy” of Gossip Girl. If his attempted rape of Serena and Jenny didn’t give fans an indication that how deranged he is, his violent and emotional abuse of his girlfriend Blair cements him as this. He slut-shamed women around him, hit Blair once and even traded her for a hotel ownership and somehow he gets a happy ending with her at the end! What?

Nate Jacobs - Euphoria

Nate is a star quarterback of his high school football team and seems like he has it all, but underneath, he is fucking deranged. His untamed manly rage causes him to physically and emotionally abuse his girlfriend Maddy and blackmail Jules, who didn’t do anything wrong but just sleep with his father, which makes me think that Nate is blackmailing her into lying to the cops about his assault on Maddy when she wasn’t even there when it happened just because it’s fun for him. Honestly, I’d like to see the imagine Rue and Jules had of killing him become a reality someday.

Dawson Leery - Dawson’s Creek

Just because the show is named after him since he is the protagonist, doesn’t justify his actions. Dawson sees himself as some sort of a Nice Guy hero who believes he is entitled to everything. He has this extreme view on women and how they should fulfil his fantasies of his Rom-Com world. He is extremely critical of Jen when he finds out about her promiscuous past and tells her that she should be ashamed of herself for it, and gets jealous when his two best friends Joey and Pacey begin dating. And when he was briefly in the movie business, he was a rookie but was already a primadonna with the director and crew of the movie was working on and insulted a film critic for criticising his movie which was actually bad.

Kilgrave - Jessica Jones

Kilgrave is the main villain of the Marvel-Netflix series Jessica Jones. He becomes obsessed with the titular heroine when she breaks off from his mind-control. Before that, he spent years treating her as his sex slave and raping her constantly, which left her traumatised. He begins to stalker and believe it will be a “lover’s reunion” when he will see her again someday. He manipulates and brainwashes everyone around him to his whim and treats most women as objects but despite all that, sees himself as the good guy of the situation. Even after Jessica finally gives him his just desserts, he still haunts her everyday.

Fernando Vera - Mr. Robot

This spawn of satan is the reason why I decided to write this list in the first place. Where do I even start? He is first introduced into the series when he forces Shayla to go on a date with her and later rape her. This is what causes the misandrist vigilante Elliot to sell him out to the FBI and this apparently turns on Vera and moves his unhealthy obsession to Elliot. He has Shayla killed when he tricks Elliot into breaking him out of prison, then returns to have him all to himself by kidnapping his therapist Krista and forcing information out of her about Elliot so that he could “break him and build him back up”, like a fucked up version of The Taming Of The Shrew. He psychologically abuses Elliot into remembering being sexually abused by his father as a child and proceeds to gaslight him into thinking that he was just helping him. The huge problem with Vera is that he sees himself as some sort of Christian Grey who believes that his abuse towards both Shayla and Elliot is charming. Whenever someone failed his desires, he immediately gets bored of them and moves onto someone else, like when he got Shayla killed and moved onto Elliot. That’s why it felt so cathartic when Krista killed him.

Tate Langdon - American Horror Story

Apparently, he is Tate Langdon and he is...hot?? While most of the AHS fans glorified him due to his emo bad boy nature, let’s not forget the fact that he was a school shooter who murdered innocent students and staff and was in general possessive and toxic towards Violet. So no way he is boyfriend material!

Don Draper - Mad Men

Don Draper was the main protagonist of Mad Men. He was an advertisement and marketing executive who had a lot of vices and did a lot of horrible things such as cheat on his wife and treat almost every women and colleagues like crap.

Dexter Morgan - Dexter

While Dexter might seem like the serial-killer killer, there are a lot of things about him which are unadmirable. He gaslights those he is close to so that they could get off his back, obstructs evidence pointing out to him, captures those who didn’t even fit his victims like Doakes and caused the deaths of LaGuerta, Rita and finally his sister Debra. Yeah I think you should stay away from him.

Walter White - Breaking Bad

Aaah..the worst of the worst. Walter White is the protagonist of the series Breaking Bad. He first starts off as a pushover high school teacher who isn’t respected by anyone. When he gets diagnosed with Lung Cancer, he gets into the meth business so that he could support his family, but we all know that it’s not true. He relishes on the power and glory from being a drug dealer and then kingpin and because of that he ends up abusing both Jesse and Skyler, emotionally abusing and selling out the former to the sadistic Nazis and raping the latter several times. He is so petty and spiteful that he kills anyone insulting his ego, just ask Mike. And even after all this, he still claims that it’s all for his family. Like what?