#fire sprinkler business

[firesprinklerrepaircompany]

Website : https://firesprinklerrepaircompany.com/

Address : 1407 N. Batavia St. #112, Orange, CA 92867

Phone : +1 888-588-5526

At Fire Sprinkler Repair Company, our mission is simple: to protect lives and property by providing exceptional fire protection services. With years of experience in the industry, we specialize in the inspection, maintenance, and repair of fire sprinkler systems, fire hydrants, and fire pumps. Our team of certified technicians is committed to delivering reliable, compliant, and high-quality solutions to meet the unique needs of every client.

We take pride in our attention to detail and our dedication to safety. Whether you're a homeowner, business owner, or property manager, we are here to ensure your fire protection systems are always functioning at their best. From routine inspections to emergency repairs, we’re available 24/7 to provide the support you need when it matters most.

Your safety is our top priority. Let us help you safeguard your property with trusted fire protection services.

Business Mail : info@firesprinklerrepaircompany.com

[janamensch]

Collateral damage

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x mutant fem!reader

Summary: You hate Pietro for how he treats you, or at least you do until you're stuck in an elevator with him.

Genre: hurt and comfort, enemies to lovers (only they aren't "enemies") <3

Warnings: Pietro is a dick in the beginning, panic attacks, claustrophobia, swearing, i use Czech to represent Sokovian (probably shitty translation)

~ thank you for requesting @princesssunderworld! loved this prompt sm! i wrote this for Pietro because we need more Pietro content asap and i have so many wips for Tangerine already! I hope you like this! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Pietro Maximoff is quite possibly your worst nightmare. 

While he does have the face of an angel, all doe-eyed and charming smile, he somehow manages to make your life a living hell. He's like some beautiful, insufferable, devil that constantly insists on sitting promptly on your shoulder. 

Mostly, he spends his days finding any excuse to either argue with you or undermine you. During training, he constantly makes snarky comments on your form and purposefully speeds by you to knock you on your ass. He'll always wear the same smirk when you chew him out, almost like he's amused and you despise it.

You hate him. 

And most of all, you hate how it makes you feel. How he makes your cheeks feel warmer and that unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. 

Wanda tries to convince you he has a school-boy crush on you—like some little boy who likes pulling little girls' hair on the playground. You don't want to hear it. He's a grown man now, not a boy anymore. If he has a crush, he should deal with it like an adult. 

One afternoon, Pietro had just pulled one of his so-called pranks on you, causing you to walk under a bucket of cold water and successfully drenching you and rendering the flames that usually spark from your hands from your anger into smoke.

The Avengers in the room training grow silent as Pietro, sitting on the weightlifting bench, bursts into laughter. 

"Pietro!" Wanda shrieks, immediately rushing to you from where she'd been talking to Vision but you shake your head, frustrated tears threatening to brim in your eyes.

You send Pietro a glare and storm out of the room, shaking your wet sleeves. 

You're too busy mumbling curses under your breath to hear Wanda shout at her twin brother as you furiously press the elevator button. When the doors opens you do hear his voice, however, "Y/n! Princezna (Princess)!" 

You rush into the elevator and spin around, pressing the close button as fast as you can but obviously, Pietro is much faster.

He reaches you before the doors close, almost slamming into you as his body vibrates from the aftermath of his powers. His hand comes up behind your head instinctively so you don't hit your head against the wall and he glances down at you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. 

You push him away just as the elevator wobbles and the sound of something snapping is heard. Pietro's speed must have somehow messed up the elevator system because the elevator starts to fall. 

You gasp, reaching for the only other person in the elevator,  and Pietro is by your side in an instant, crouching you both into one corner, his arms tightening around your waist as the elevator falls three stories and then halts with a loud screech.

Your mutation sometimes manifests when you're stressed, so you barely even register that you've set a part of Pietro's sleeve on fire from where you're clutching his arm until the sprinkler in the elevator turns on, soaking you both. 

"Hey, miláček (darling)," Pietro holds one of your cheeks in his hand, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he sees the white cloud in your eyes disappear and you blink. "You're okay." You're breathing heavily now, staring at him until you snap and push him away, curling your arms around your knees.

You look at the elevator panel only to see it's broken. Pietro is trying his hardest to pry the doors open, but even with his speed, they remain shut.

"Fuck Tony Stark," Pietro groans and slumps to the ground in front of you, running a hand in his silver hair as he sends you a lopsided grin. "You okay, princezna (princess)?" 

You glare at him. 

Pietro lifts his arms in surrender. 

You check your watch. The team should realize something went wrong and rescue you at any moment. You'll be fine, you try reminding yourself but the walls seem to be pressing in faster and faster. You feel dizzy as tears blur your vision and you haven't realized that you've started hyperventilating until Pietro touches your arm. 

You gasp again and look up at him, frightened. His expression softens as he kneels in front of you, looking you over. He looks concerned, which is a first.

"I- I can't breathe," you manage to croak out, your voice strained. As much as you don't want to turn to Pietro for help, you need him. 

Pietro nods, understanding your panic now. He soothes you and holds out his palm. "Breathe. It's okay. You're safe," he says and shakes his palm a little. He wants you to hold his hand. 

You sniffle, still having trouble breathing correctly as your fingers stroke against Pietro's palm and he smiles. His skin is warm and the shock centers you for a moment.

"There. I'm right here, miláček (darling)," he pauses and his hand vibrates a little, controlling his powers just enough so that he can show you he's here. 

The sensation elicits a laugh from you as you look up at him, matching the breathing he's showing you. Pietro's smile widens, his heart only half-breaking from the tears brimming in your eyes and he resists the urge to wipe your cheeks. 

"Shhh, there you go. Breathe. Dýchej, anděli, dýchej (Breathe, angel, breathe)."

Minutes later, Wanda is fussing over you as you sit in the lounge room after Tony rescued you and Pietro. She wraps a towel around your shoulders.

"Are you okay?" She keeps repeating as she ignores her equally wrecked-looking brother standing in the corner as Clint and Steve talk to him. You nod, eyes round from the entire ordeal. 

"Did he make it worse? Because I'll kill him—"

You shake your head, glancing at Pietro. Your cheeks burn hot when you catch his gaze and you snap your head back to Wanda, who just looks confused. 

"No– he helped me," you whisper, watching realization sparkle in her eyes. 

Still, she doesn't say anything.  

* * *

Pietro isn't awful to you anymore. He's the opposite. 

He's sweet. 

You find the shift weird so you avoid him. You avoid him until you physically can't anymore because he's blocking the door to the kitchen as you stand in the refrigerator light, a spoon stuck in your ice cream tub.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. He's wearing his pajamas as they hang just under his v-line, his hair a mess as he yawns. 

"What are you doing up, princezna (princess)?" he asks and walks over, grabbing another spoon and leaning against the counter, and shakes the spoon for you to share the ice cream. You hand him the tub, staring at him intensely.

"What?" Pietro smirks, his mouth full as he winces. "Sakra, je zima (Damn, it's cold)." 

"Thank you," you blurt out. You're a week late but you don't care.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. "For?"

"Helping me in the elevator. It meant a lot," you say, shifting nervously.

Pietro's smile softens and he sets the ice cream down, licking his lips. He walks over, cornering you into the counter but you don't feel threatened. You feel safe. He lifts his hand and hesitates at your cheek.

"Y'know, I'd be quite an asshole to let you suffer like that," he says in a whisper, his Sokovian accent thick as he chuckles. His fingers touch your skin and you shiver, your eyes widening. 

"Didn't stop you before," you mutter.

Pietro frowns. 

"Listen, anděl (angel), I know I haven't been the nicest to you but it's all been in good fun—it's nothing serious," he looks away a moment, searching for his words as he pauses. "I never meant to ever truly hurt you. I- I like you, Y/n. I just didn't know how to tell you so the teasing was easier for me."

You tilt your head, taking in his words. "What was your plan then, Pietro? Make me dislike you so somehow I'd turn around and like you after? That doesn't make any fucking sense. You could have just been sweet like you're being now!"

Pietro looks at you again, his arms caging you in now as his hands flex around the counter. "My feelings for you make no fucking sense," he argues, his eyes locked on yours. "I hate them. I hate how they make me act like a fool when all I want to do is kiss you and hold you close. Vše, co chci, je milovat tě (All I want to do is love you)."

You never wanted to admit it but you love it when he speaks Sokovian and you calm your breathing as your eyes shut. Pietro leans in, his breath ghosting yours. "One word. Say the word and I'll stop. I'll stop everything. I'll leave you alone."

You open your mouth, your eyes following, and you whisper. "Kiss me."

Pietro wastes no time in kissing you, claiming your lips as his own as his hand tightens around your waist. He's pulling you in closer, your body warms so hard as your hands find his cheeks that you're afraid you'll burn him and you try pulling away from him. 

"You won't hurt me," Pietro whispers through his kisses as he refuses to let you go. "I can take it."

You gasp into his mouth as your hands find his hair, pulling on the strands. This feels so unfamiliar and yet, you've never kissed anyone like this. 

Finally, Pietro pulls away and he leans his head on your warm forehead as you catch your breath. 

"Wanda mi dluží dvacet babek (Wanda owes me twenty bucks)," he whispers, mostly to himself as a lovesick smile graces his features. "Moje. Jsi můj. (Mine. You're mine)."

"What are you saying?" you ask, looking into his icy blue eyes you once 'hated' so much.

Pietro smiles and kisses your lips. He doesn't tell you what he means or how he feels. 

Not yet. 

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @sayitlikethecheese, @lqrlei

[sssammich]

fic: let there be another day

inspired by this fantastically angsty gifset of a supercorp AU. happy supercorp sunday yall

thanks x

---

The days transform steadily, selfishly, into weeks. Until the weeks have amounted to six months of nothing. Nothing between them but a phantom line of what they’d been to each other, once upon a time.

There is a crater in Lena’s heart, a botched excavation of the way she’d willed herself to forget Kara, to protect the two of them from the ruthlessness of her family. So she’d cored herself first, hoping to beat her brother and mother to the punch. Yet Kara had dug herself further into her heart, straight into her marrow. 

So she failed, in the end, to rid herself of the woman she’d loved with her whole being. 

But it’s gotten easier, in a way, existing in this reality where she had to deny herself the chance for happiness if it meant her happiness could live. 

Her family has continued to terrorize her, but she’s acclimated. Expected it, really. Their efforts of trying to eliminate the few people who have been able to reach the fortress of her heart have now since changed to recruiting her into the fold of the family business. 

She now only functions to keep L-Corp as an entity of good despite her family’s best attempts at compromising her work. It’s fine, because she has accepted that her work will be her life. Her love—her grief—has become the shape of late nights in front of her computer, of half-filled decanters as she oversees expense reports, of dry-cleaned power suits and a lethal red lipstick as armor worn in superfluous business meetings. 

It’s worth it, she reasons, when she catches sight of Supergirl zooming past her window to save the day once more. 

—

Lena should have known that Lex and Lillian are simply biding their time until they strike. The last couple of months of relative quiet was not a sign of reprieve. So when the glass of her office doors break and splinter into tiny crystalline pieces, her heart aches not in fear, but in disappointment. 

She’s never had a death wish and would never wish this hurt upon herself, but the amount of threats to her life has surpassed her age. She thinks that maybe if both Lex and Lillian simply just got it over with, that she can get some goddamn rest. But she knows why she fights and why she keeps going. If only to spite her family, if only so that her sacrifice isn’t in vain. 

Another explosion erupts and throws Lena partway across her office, her head hitting the corner of her desk with a thud. She opens her eyes and her vision blurs, her head throbbing with pain, her body tense and sore all at once. Distantly, she can hear the fire alarm go off just as the sprinklers start shooting off water and flooding her office. 

She attempts to stand and find an exit, but her body betrays her intentions, buckling under her weight as she’s sprayed with water all around her. She falls onto her knees and subjects herself to crawling towards the exit with only but reckless determination and an almost-extinguished hope that she will make it out of this alive. 

Before she can take another step forward, there’s a whooshing sound that fills her already ringing ears and suddenly, warmth envelopes her. 

She sighs in resignation and gratitude when she feels the familiar weight around her. Lena knows before she opens her eyes what has engulfed her so safely, so securely. It cuts her heart just as it heals it, and she is in a loop of pain and joy. 

She wants to open her eyes, truly, to look into ocean eyes and a field of golden grass. But she is in pain and she is hurting. Her only course of action is to keep her eyes closed as strong arms grab hold of her—gently, always so gently—and whisks her out of her now compromised and ruined office. 

—

When she comes to, she finds herself in a secluded and private examination room of the National City Hospital, discretion of the highest priority as a prominent public figure. It’s one she’s been in before, from a past attempt at her life. It’s almost something like a comfort, this familiar space that has seen her bruises, cuts, and scrapes. 

The door swings open and she hears Kara behind her begin to make her exit. She doesn’t look up but when she catches sight of the red cape just by the bed, she holds up a hand and stops the movement altogether. 

She only lets go when the doctor looks down from her clipboard and settles on the rolling stool, the creak of the leather as she rolls closer to Lena. 

She allows the doctor to do what she does best, intently listening to the sound of the squeaking stool and the crinkling of the paper of the examination bed as doctor works.  

A mild concussion, some cuts and bruises. It could have been worse, she’s told. It always could have been worse and she wants to yell at Dr. Shapiro that this feels pretty close to the worst. Still, she listens carefully as her doctor explains how fortunate she is for surviving after the second and third explosions completely decimating her office. 

“Third explosion?” she asks, this information brand new to her. 

“Mm,” the doctor hums. “The second blast was the reason for your concussion, but according to reports, the third blast was close to you and would have knocked you prone and done serious damage had you not found cover.” 

Lena tries very hard not to twist her aching body and look over her shoulder. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

The doctor looks at her meaningfully before glancing over Lena’s right shoulder and placing a hand on hers, squeezing, and then letting go. 

The door closes with a quiet click, but instead of an exhaled deep breath, she holds herself tense. She shuts her eyes and listens to the way the superhero makes just enough noise so Lena knows where she is. First, from the chair she’d been occupying, then the sound of boots against the linoleum flooring, then the swish of the cape as it catches against the corner of the examination bed and back down again. 

“Where can I take you?” 

She opens her eyes to the setting sun, to saltwater ocean, to a small smile she hasn’t allowed herself to witness in six months. 

She doesn’t know what’s safest, what her family is planning, what the total damage is. She needs her phone, she needs access to her company, she needs—

“Can I go with you?” is what she says. 

Kara studies her, like the horizon staring back, and nods. She opens her hand, the thumb loop of her suit wrapping around her palm, and offers it to Lena. 

She takes it, sliding her unsteady hand in place and breathes when Kara clasps their hands together. 

—

Kara’s apartment smells the exact same. 

She does not comment on this, though it’s the most prevalent thought in her mind. Kara lets her walk in first, speeding to the lamps and switching them on until the apartment is bathed in faint golden light. Fitting. 

“Get cleaned up. I’ll have some spare clothes for you right outside the bathroom.” Kara passes her a towel, and she hugs it to her chest. 

The water scalds her skin, stings the open scratches and cuts. And she revels in it, her alabaster skin reddening under the downpour of it. She savors it until the shower sputters a little and the hot water becomes tepid then becomes cold. She squeals and jumps away, hitting herself against the side of the shower stall and knocking half of the soaps and hair products off the shelf. 

Kara is there in an instant, opening the door and getting soaked herself, trying to protect her. 

Naked and broken, she looks up to the setting sun that is Kara’s concerned face, and then she starts laughing. 

“I—the hot water ran out.” 

Kara exhales, that cold water matting down her hair on her forehead as she protects Lena from the downpour. “Sorry, I never did call the landlord about it.” 

She turns off the water behind her and steps out of the shower stall to pick up Lena’s towel for her. She opens the towel and turns away. 

You’ve seen it all before, she wants to say, but doesn’t. Instead, she takes the towel and wraps it around herself, the cold beads of water from her hair clinging to her neck, her shoulder blades. 

Kara steps aside, offers her a shy smile, and leaves wordlessly. Lena listens to the way she walks around the apartment, the clattering of the plates on the table. 

She steps out and smiles when she finds spare clothes placed on a stool right outside the bathroom door. 

When she next steps out of the bathroom, she is wearing Kara’s oversized shirt with a faded cartoon drawing of National City State Fair on it and a spare set of her pajama pants that she didn’t realize she’d forgotten, she'd thought Kara would have gotten rid of. 

The spread of Chinese food on the coffee table is modest, but familiar. 

She takes a seat in the spot she once proclaimed as hers, and accepts the plate from Kara’s grasp. They eat in silence with only the sound of the television playing on in the background. 

Kara watches her—studying her, Lena’s sure—but doesn’t say anything. She talks about her week because Lena had asked, and so she gives it to Lena. They clear their plates, then she trails after Kara to the kitchen, parking herself on the kitchen island. Kara seems to anticipate her and passes a pint of Cherry Garcia towards her with a spoon on the lid. 

“Good for concussions, I heard,” Kara offers, a twitch of a smile on her lips.  

She laughs at that, surprised, but accepts the ice cream, opening the lid and taking a spoonful. “That’s tonsillitis.” 

Kara shrugs but takes a spoonful of her own Rocky Road on the opposite side of the kitchen island. So much of right now exists superimposed to how things had been before, how their lives had been so entwined, so integrated. It is unnerving as it is comforting, and Lena accepts that for today, at least, she has to accept the disorientation. 

Eventually, “here. I charged your phone. I’d call Sam first, then Jess.”

There is distance between them, far greater than the kitchen island in front of her, and it shows itself for the first time now, here. After everything.  

“Kara, I—” 

“I need to fill Alex in on everything. Let her know you’re alright. I’ll be right outside.”  

She nods, glances at her phone and the laptop that Kara slides across the kitchen island, and watches as Kara walks out the front door. 

For a solid hour, she works through everything she can considering her mild concussion. She touches base with her assistant, with her team, and finds that they have taken care of everything for her. She sighs in relief, shuddering into her hands when Sam and Jess let her know that they have everything handled, that all they want for her is to rest, that the investigation into her family’s attempt at assassinating her might finally have some legs with some information they’d discovered during the cleanup. 

She sighs, sniffling into the back of her hand and tells them goodnight before she closes her phone and sobs into her hands, the day finally wearing her down. 

She doesn’t startle when arms wrap around her, the press of a strong body kneeling in front of her as she cries into the crook of Kara’s neck. She grabs fistfuls of Kara’s shirt as her tears soak through the cotton. 

Kara only holds onto her, rubbing her back and gently cradling Lena in her arms. Soft shushing filters through Lena’s ears and she sobs further into Kara, hoping Kara can just absorb her entirely, as if that’s the only thing that can protect her—from her family, from the world, from herself. 

Her sobs lasts and lasts, a never ending fountain of all the tears she’d shoved back in, a dam bursting now that she’s allowed herself.

—

Kara carries her to the bed, quietly ushering her under the covers just as she sits on the edge of it. 

“You saved me,” she says, her voice coming out slightly congested.  

Kara brushes her hair behind her ear. “That promise has never changed.” 

“They’re never going to stop, are they?” 

Kara shakes her head. 

“I thought by letting you g—” she huffs, turns away. “I thought I was protecting you. I was trying to do the right thing.” 

Kara grabs hold of her hand and places it on her lap, her fingers fiddling with Lena’s palm, but doesn’t quite look at her. 

“I’m afraid that the only times I will see you, I’m trying to save your life. And I—it worsens when I think that I can’t make it.” 

Lena watches Kara’s beautiful profile, the expanse of her forehead, the slope of her nose into the curves of her lips and down her jutting chin, trembling slightly in the faint light outside the bedroom curtain. Then she sees the bob of Kara’s throat, a single tear falling into the center of her palm. 

Kara’s facing her now, and Lena brings up her other hand to wipe Kara’s cheek. 

“I missed you, Lena. And I don’t know what I will do if I can’t make it to you in time, I—” 

This time, it’s Lena who pulls her close, wrapping the arm that Kara’s been focusing on around her front as she cradles Kara in her arms. “I’m sorry, darling,” she says, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.” 

Kara then turns in her arms and they embrace one another, both hiding in each other. 

The tears stain and soak her neck, but she lets it, welcoming Kara’s weight after months of being so untethered. 

“Please, just come back to me,” Kara says into her skin, muffled words that hold so much promise. “Let me take care of you. Let me protect you,” 

Lena pulls back slightly. “You’d still—you’d still want me?” 

“Let me love you again, Lena.” 

Unable to hold her own tears back, Lena pushes forward until their lips meet. She angles her head and Kara kisses her back, the pair of them holding each other. 

There is an ache to their reunion, but there is healing, too. And Lena remembers, unbidden, Dr. Shapiro’s words. It could have been worse, she’d heard. 

But Lena wants it to be better. She deserves at least that, for all of her troubles, and if her family will aim for her and all that she loves, then she can’t hide herself in the shadows. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Tomorrow, she thinks, after the whispered declarations and the promises of more, of better, of a new day. Together. 

“I’m here. I’m here. I love you, too. I’m here.” 

[bitchesuntitled]

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Business Casual

Yan Hero + Villain-for-Hire Scientist Reader

Something something, villain reader in lingerie. G.N as always, but they are implied to be slightly muscular

Another explosion on floor three.

The ground quakes beneath you on level four; dragging the wide-eyed corpse flung over your desk to to its knees. Head cracking against the sharp edge as they spawn across the floor, their helmet rolls into your ankle. You step over it and gather the scattered stacks of paper into a large folder, using the guard's layard to keep them secure.

While looting their body, you take back the pen lodged in their jugular. Your bosses were idiots if they thought you'd leave behind your hard work and the supplies you bought with your own two cents. You have to plant your foot on their chest to get it out. Turns out they weren't fully dead yet, as when you yank it free blood gurgles from their mouth and throat - eyes bloodshot as their enfeebled limbs dart for the punctured hole. Your shirt was already drenched in enough of their blood you didn't need to stick around. You stand up and over their body, clocking out as you vacate the premises - chaos unveiled behind the glass wall of your office.

Bodies everywhere, most wounds self inflicted. The heroes had yet to make it to your floor and those in too deep knew there wasn't anything better waiting outside. Those hired under false pretenses scrambled for the exits like a wild stampede. The mass panic made up the minority of the casualties as they trampled each other and fought. The sprinklers going off to quench various fires raised the body count. By the time you left everyone was either dead or on their way to the lower floors. You stroll through the field of wasted flesh, checking your bank account with that spring in your step that amount zeros would give anyone. Getting that degree was good for something after all.

Reaching the flight of stairs leading to your salvation, a lone figure awaits you at the bottom; expression steeled with a glare that the press would've just eaten up. Banking on the notion they may not have seen your clothes, you use the rain of the sprinklers to play as your tears.

"Oh thank goodness you came- the evacuation alarm went off and then there were guns and-" Expressing your fright with incoherent words and sobs, you descend the stairs one step at a time. "I'm sorry, I really don't know what's going on since I just started working here. Thank you for rescuing me."

The hero is a little too welcoming for your liking as you fall against their chest.

"You don't have to keep up the act. It's just me here."

That voice. So familiar.

"Nobody else is alive. I'm taking you home this time. Where you belong. We both know you're better than this."

It reminds you of that little hero everyone's been talking about recently. The same one who's flyers kept appearing in your mail. The same one who investigated those disappearances at your old apartment. The same one you sold the information to. You've been paid off for information by so many their faces all blur together at this point.

"In that case."

Teetering back on your heel and planting your foot in the center of their chest, you pour all your strength into a kick them that sends them down the flight of stairs to the next. The hero willingly takes the plunge, but goes down harder than they expect; back breaking their fall and taking on the brunt of the damages. You grab the sleeve of your lab coat with your teeth as you drop down each step, ripping it from your soaked figure and throwing it over their head. If you had to fight your way out of this all the water weight retained in the coat would just limit your mobility. The hero pulls it off and springs onto their knees. They didn't want to do things this way, but their patience had run them. Wiping blood from their lips, they take a double look at you as you hover over them - certain they hit their head harder than they thought.

Eyes lose in confusion at their slack jaw expression, your lips retain a mocking grimace. "What's the matter, hero? Afraid of fighting a civilian?"

The hero opens their mouth, but nothing comes out. They point instead. You look down at your shirt. Oh...

The guard's blood and falling waters had eaten away at the cheap material of your shirt. Through the translucent fabric peaks the garments you wore beneath. A lacey black piece perfectly shaped to your bust with straps cross over your upper chest and cut off at your midriff. The strings of the matching bottom sit high upon your thigh, frills barely hidden at your waistband. You may have a few screws lose, but you wouldn't leave the house without underwear and this was all that you had - was the excuse you stopped using after showing up to work in lingerie two days in a row. The hero swallow the first breath in ages as you pop the first button.

"Like what you see, hero? Well I can show you more~" You take off your shirt and throw it at their feet. They scramble to pick it up as your leg falls onto their shoulder. You ease into a squat, pushing them down with you as you slide. Their hands slide up your legs. You tease them with a slip of your bottoms, fist clenching as they yank your zipper. The salvation of reaching their in goal drags them in too deep as everything goes dark.

-

The hero wakes up with a splitting headache traveling all the way down to their nose. The bloodstained walls of the laboratory had been switched with floral wallpaper. Your living room wallpaper. They were bound to a chair in the middle of the room giving them a view of different areas in your home. It takes them less than a minute to notice you laying out on the couch. You had changed into dry clothing, but they could still see the single string hugging your hips. They lick at their cracked lips.

"Anything...."

You toss their phone aside as you sit up. "You're awake. Afraid I knocked that nasty little brain of yours out when you fell like that. Looking through your phone I see you have a talent for photography. A hero and a stalker. What a combo."

They bite down until their lips start to blister. "Please.. anything, anything you want is yours if you take off your shirt. Please, I cant- I can't live off pictures alone anymore. I need you... I have since I first say you."

"Anything, hm? That's a mighty brod claim. We'll see if I can hold you to it, little hero."

[sporesgalaxy]

In last nights dream I accidentally clogged a toilet in a public restroom but it was like a small business and I didnt want to cause them problems so i tried to unclog it myself. and then in my desperate bid to unclog it I ended up getting water all over the place and that activated some mechanism on the back of the toilet that automatically set it ON FIRE supposedly to "get the attention of an employee" and then that made the sprinklers start to go off which made some of the other toilets also start being on fire. And I'm just in there mortified. Desperately trying to solve this on my own because how the fuck do I explain to anybody that I set the bathroom on fire trying to unclog a toilet? eventually I gave up and sought help and then the rest of the dream was a weird timeloop thing and Gaster was there one time but really the bathroom panic was the star of the show here.

[mugs-n-cans]

hey sniper, you should totally get scout some flowers!! hope he reacts well!

Huh, I should, shouldn’t I? I’ll drive out to the store while he’s doin’ his exercises.

[2 hours later…]

Scout: And then, Pyro started a fire so freakin’ bad all the sprinklers were set off and Spy got absolutely soaked! Well, we all got soaked, but it was really funny for him. He looked like when ya give a cat a bath!

Sounds like a good bit of fun. Wish I could’a seen that. But, er…I was busy gettin’ somethin’ for ya.

Scout: Really? What is it! Show me!

Alright, alright. [Sniper reaches under the camper table and pulls up a bouquet of roses, holding them out to Scout].

Scout takes them and looks at them with wide eyes: Ya…got me flowers? That’s…

‘Course I did, roo. I hope roses are alright, wasn’t sure what kind ya would like.

[Scout looks at them another moment before jumping forward and hugging Sniper, nearly tumbling him over].

Crikey! Careful, mate—

Scout: That’s the sweetest freakin’ thing, I’ve never gotten flowers before, I didn’t know guys could get flowers, you’re the freakin’ best, Snipes!

[Sniper sheepishly adjusts his hat]. Well, I don’t know about ‘best’. But I’m glad ya like them, roo. Maybe I’ll have to get ya flowers more often…

[techmomma]

Various things I have learned while working at this mitigation company:

different insurance providers are more or less willing to cover more things. some companies are real lenient and will give you a lot of leeway. some will absolutely not and will find every means possible to not pay. we tend to keep an unofficial list (at least among employees) of which ones we love to work with (aka which ones will approve and pay for the most and be easiest to deal with) and which ones we hate working with (they will usually reject the claim meaning NO mitigation work is done at all because you think most regular people can afford $20K mitigation out of pocket?). you can ask us which ones we like working with.

if the overhead sprinkler system is activated, then even if nothing burned, you will still need so much mitigation. modern sprinkler systems aren't just full of water, they have various fire-fighting chemicals in them that should not come into contact with people for extended periods. and definitely not food.

not every business is willing to pay for fire sprinkler mitigation. sometimes they just decide to paint over it! one of the local grocery stores decided to do that! remember what I said about exposing those chemicals to food?

mold can start growing from a water leak within like 48 hours. faster if it's a sewage leak. if you had a leak and you waited a week to call anyone, you need a mold inspection too.

we get screwed over by churches so, so much.

all houses must be tested for asbestos before any mitigation can begin. it used to be that we only really needed to test on houses built before about 1990, but as asbestos was used in building materials LONG after that, they've finally cracked down and now all houses needed to be tested. my coworkers aren't as happy about this as I am.

if the building was built before 1978 though then we have to test for asbestos AND lead! I think we should test them all for lead frankly but the law says 1978.

asbestos and lead usually have to be removed by special companies. we use subcontractors for that since we don't have the equipment ourselves.

subcontractors! your mitigation company usually can't do everything themselves, so they'll enlist the aid of another company. so for example, when we have to test for asbestos and lead, we use a subcontractor who has the equipment to analyze samples.

generally, if you can see damage, whatever is inside the wall is so, so much worse.

there is so so much mold in like every building

even with industrial cleaners and professional equipment, mold is so hard to actually get rid of permanently. if it's gotten into an organic material like wood or cloth, you can count that as pretty much permanently affected. they will almost always be unsalvageable.

this counts for say, the wood beams of your house. we can clean them down and spray mold killer and seal them, but it'll ever be a 100% guarantee, ESPECIALLY IF YOU LIVE IN A WETTER CLIMATE. LIKE, IDK, WASHINGTON.

houses on the water are so full of mold

if you have a sudden Emergency, please make sure you decide if you're going to use a mitigation before you actually call us. especially for emergencies where there's water like actively flooding your house. please, for the love of god, don't call us and say "we have an emergency and need help cleaning this up" and then call a short while later saying "well, actually, can we be put on hold, we're not sure if we'll go with mitigation yet...". our technicians are almost always working on a job, we don't have anyone just sitting around the office we can send at any time. and sometimes those jobs can be like an hour away from our office

that means the tech has to pack up their equipment on the site (meaning making sure the site is secured especially if it's going to rain), get back to the office (remember the hour drive from before), get the right equipment for your emergency, and head out there. if they've been pulled from their previous job site they had to drive an hour for, we're not going to fucking send them back.

meaning if you cancel, that's like half of our day wasted and now that other job is going to be behind, too, because they're minus an extra five hours that could have been spent doing the work for that job

please. please don't do your own mitigation work. oh my god.at the very least because sometimes insurance companies get super super picky about that and might reject your claim for it.

if you can see water damage on the other side of a wall, it means the water has gone through the drywall. the longer it's wet and uncared for--I'm talking like, 2 days or more--the more likely things will need to be removed and/or demolished. certainly after 2 days the insulation will almost certainly need to be removed and new insulation installed. this will cost money.

the older the building, the more likely anything in that building will fail at any given time. sure maybe the piping lasted 100 years but that's because it took 100 years to eat away the piping until it finally gave out on the 101st year

meaning the older the building, the more likely it becomes that you'll experience pipe bursts, leaks, electrical mishaps, sewage leaks, etc. etc.

when it comes to water mitigation, there's two kinds: cleanwater and blackwater. cleanwater is what comes out of your tap. blackwater is poopy sewage. blackwater is, without fail, a gazillion times more expensive because it will, as a requirement, involve some form of demolition. it should. that's a health hazard man. you don't know what (else) is in poopy sewage water.

if you can't have the water turned off to do any mitigation, then you HAVE to get a specialist before we can do any restoration. if the pipe is still leaking, then mitigation work will kind of be for nothing.

if you're planning on filing any claims, do that FIRST before you call anybody. the insurance company will have a list of people to call and will tell you how to go about things so that your claim is solid. filing online is fine but it's usually a good idea to have an actual name and contact information for an adjuster (the person who'll be looking at the damage and seeing what needs to be done)

don't fret. sometimes even things I thought would be totally unsalvageable were salvageable! they have lots of tips and tricks, and the technicians and their managers are usually happy to talk about their trade with you

a lot of these technicians really do care, even if they're mostly in it for the work. so many of these guys would do this because this kind of work is pure enrichment for them, but they got families to take care of. it gets genuinely frustrating sometimes to know what work needs to be done and wanting to do so, but the insurance company won't pay out, so nothing can be done.

if your insurance company is giving you the reach-around and you think they're fucking you over, there's something called the insurance commissioner. they're who you can report insurance company fuckery to and the commissioner is usually pretty on top of it. I've seen customers be fucked over for months by their insurance company call the commissioner, and within a few hours the insurance company ~*~magically~*~ has a fire lit under their ass and just so so happy to help you out.

you get what you pay for. whether construction, mitigation, whatever. you pay for cheap mitigation work, you will get cheap results.

something you really don't want cheap results for: mitigation work

things landlords are absolutely fucking notorious for: wanting cheap mitigation work. don't listen to any stupid schpiel they give you about caring or whatever work they said they put in. sure they did pay $10k for restoration work--because it was a job worth about $20k, and they went with the rock-bottom contractor who put a half-assed half day's work in that will fall apart in a few years

fuck landlords and property managers. but you already knew that if you follow me.

Lastly, if you have time to spare and want to make a technician's day, ask them what their worst or most fun job was. they are so happy to tell you.

they have so. many. stories.

[stillfertile]

Dewey’s + Luck for your game!-@carouselstars

Um. this has to go below the cut

I've has assassin aus on the mind, so I thought... what if the deweys were partners for years, were both sent to separate agencies, then years later got each other as an assignment :3c

Connor is certain Brandon has seen him. He's certain. So when he sees Brandon stand up from his table across the busy restaurant and walk toward the kitchen, Connor takes notice. He excuses himself to the strangers at his table, random rich people he doesn't give a fuck about, and makes his way toward the kitchen as well.

He swings the door open, and Brandon tackles him immediately. He's shoved backward into a cart, the waiter that's pushing it yelps. Connor kicks Brandon off of him, grabs a plate from the cart, and throws it at Brandon's face. Brandon ducks, and the plate shatters somewhere behind him. He looks Connor in the eye, face full of shock, then sprints toward the counters.

The cooks are finally taking notice of the fight. They yell and rush out of the kitchen. In the chaos, Connor can't keep a good eye on Brandon, before he's shoved backward onto a counter.

Brandon hovers above him with a hand on his chest and a large serrated knife in the other.

He's hesitating, as Connor suspected. His eyes are wide open, bloodshot, in a mix of focus and fear. Connor hasn't been this close to him in years, physically so, but when it comes to their relationship, even farther. Connor would like to stare longer, study the new haircut he's never seen, but also Brandon has a knife and is aiming at his chest, so he slips his gun out of his holder and shoots up without looking.

Luckily, he's a good shot, and the fire sprinkler above them goes off, startling Brandon long enough for Connor to push him off.

He circles around the kitchen island to make distance. To make more time, he opens a drawer and grabs a handful of utensils, then lobs them at Brandon, showering him in silver.

He sprints toward the freezer door and turns around just in time to see Brandon charging him. In a split second, Connor opens the freezer door, grabs Brandon's shirt, pushes him inside, and closes them both in.

He closed them both in.

Well… that wasn't how that move was supposed to go.

Connor aims his gun at Brandon. Not as a threat, just a warning. There's nothing else he can do. He wants more time. Brandon is sprawled out on the freezer floor, hair in his eyes, an assortment of food stains on his suit jacket, and no weapons in hand. It's the perfect opportunity, and yet he wants more time.

"Are we really doing this?" Brandon yells into the tiny closet.

Connor grits his teeth and lets his arm go limp, but keeps an iron grip on his gun. "Fuck!" he yells. "Do you think this is just bad luck? That we got assigned to each other? This is a test from our agencies, Brandon."

"I didn't bring a gun, I didn't want to kill you." Brandon says with a stone face. It makes Connor's heart ache.

"Do you really think that's a possibility? We can't walk away from our jobs and live in some beach house in fucking—fucking Florida. That isn't an option for us." Connor ignores the shakiness in his own voice. In nonsensical rage, he throws his gun at the wall and watches it clatter to the ground. "Fuck!"

Brandon stands up and walks closer to Connor. His lip is out in a shadow of a pout, a face that Connor knows well. Brandon steps closer, tentative, and yet Connor bites back.

"No! No." He yells, and shoves at Brandon's chest and arms, but Brandon is bigger, always has been, and pulls Connor into a hug. It's unimaginably warm. The tears Connor was holding back escape his eyes. He melts into his arms.

"I've missed you," Brandon croaks.

[pain-suffering-even]

various headcanons that i forgot aren't actually canon pt. 2

the americans (thomas, christopher, and laura), plus china (zhigang) and germany (lennart)

Thomas, Christopher, and Laura are childhood/middle school friends

Laura would always bring home stray cats and dogs

Lennart and Thomas become friends when Lennart asks for help with an S rank gate that spawned in Germany

Lennart isn't super close with Christopher, since him and Thomas tend to swing between being best friends or mortal enemies every week, but Lennart thinks he's nice

Christopher visits Europe a lot, since he's partially retired, so they get closer then as Lennart shows him around

Zhigang is usually too busy to hangout with Thomas or Christopher, but whenever the Annual Guild Conference is around, they tend to dedicate that week to hanging out

Christopher hates any mention of Kamish. Thomas doesn't care and thinks Christopher needs to get over himself. Hence their strained relationship

Zhigang is most definitely traumatized but works too hard to notice

Lennart wasn't part of Kamish, but did participate in the cleanup team. That's where he first met Zhigang and Christopher. Thomas was too busy recovering, so he never got to meet him

Hwang Dongsu gets on Laura's nerves, but Thomas usually steps in if he's eyeing her a little too creepily that day

After becoming friends, the group decided to attend the Annual Guild Conference dressed up with a theme. They've done pink (Barbie-esque), Aloha Shirts (wonder who came up with that one), emo/punk/goth, and the latest, Disney Princesses (Lennart loves Disney movies). There isn't much anyone can do to stop them. Even Laura participates

Thomas disregards a lot of his guild leader duties to steal Christopher and Laura and go on roadtrips. Sometimes, they go visit Europe to see Lennart

Zhigang basically never leaves China, being a hardcore workaholic, so they always have to plan to go see them on their birthday and for the holidays, etc

Thomas has a custom aloha shirt, except it's made to withstand S rank attacks. He used the Scavenger Guild budget money on it. As a tax write off. Laura wishes she could be mad but she's impressed he thought of such a thing

Christopher is scarred from Kamish due to seeing Thomas almost die from tanking attack after attack for him. He almost died. It sparks an argument, where Christopher leaves the Scavenger Guild, and their frenemies relationship begins

Once, Thomas sneaks up on Christopher and scares the ever loving shit out of him. Christopher accidentally sets the room on fire and sets off the fire alarm and emergency sprinklers. The entire building has to be evacuated

Thomas does the same thing (sneaking up on someone) to Lennart and his screech is priceless

They joke about putting a bell on Thomas, like they do with cats, just to be aware of where they are in the room. Laura is really, seriously considering it, because despite Thomas being 10 feet tall and built like a fridge, he can be quiet when he wants to be

Lennart casually mentions he has four sisters, and his first job was being a hairdresser in his village in Germany. This leads to him finally dealing with the mess that is Thomas' curly and knotted up hair

Zhigang got into university on a baseball scholarship, before all the awakenings happened. This is why they tend to swing their sword... like a baseball bat. And instinctively swing whenever they see an object flying at them. Thomas has recreated the game fruit ninja in real life using this information

Lennart started learning Chinese, because despite him knowing about three other languages, Chinese isn't one of them. This leads to the two of them having conversations that Thomas can't listen to, and it drives him insane (it's usually Lennart complimenting Zhigang, and then Zhigang compliments Lennart, etc etc)

Laura threatens to retire early whenever Thomas gets on her nerves a little too much and it always worries the entire Scavenger Guild, because she's kind of the only reason they're functioning. Thomas would solo too many gates on his own if it weren't for her

Lennart is one of the most put-together and polite hunters out there, but even he struggles not decking Dongsu in the face when he drops casual comments about his and Laura's physique in front of his face

Thomas has a lot of other S rankers in his guild from various other countries. He isn't very well liked, since he's "stolen" so many of them, like with Dongsu, but he doesn't mind (the trend started after Christopher left, when he no longer had a vice, or a sparring partner that could withstand his attacks. He's looking for a replacement, in a way, but it never feels right)

[darkmaga-returns]

The story starts when a Florida Tax collector got himself in trouble with the law.

Joel Greenberg who knew Gaetz, was involved in a sex trafficking ring and he was eventually sentenced for it. It consisted of getting girls for sugar daddy's and at least one was a minor. However Joel did a plea bargain where he lies and tried to implicate Matt Gaetz. For political reasons the Zio press jumped all over this.

Joel isn't reliable. He has 33 felonies the list of amazingly stupid things he did is enormous.

*Sex trafficking

*Stalking

*Wire fraud

*Bribery

*Conspiracy to defraud the government

*Identity theft

I*Impersonating a cop (twice)

*Created fake businesses and got them loans, he also got them covid bucks.

*He spent 3.5 million on "consultants" who were all his close friends who attended his wedding.

*Used tax money to buy and office and crypto mining machines.

*He had too many plugged in and it set the building on fire.

*He created fake IDs for the girls he trafficked and paid them on venmo.

*He created a fake letter to smear a political opponent who was a teacher by pretending to be a male student in a sexual relationship with him. Left his finger prints on the envelope.

*He also created fake Facebook a.d Twitter account is to label the guy z white separatist.

*Spent 15k on remote water sprinklers outside his office that he could aim at people.

*Brought MDNA to his sugar babies parties

But the ethic committee in congress is going to listen to Joel who confessed to 6 of the felonies and is spending 11 years in jail. Because they politically want to target Matt Gaetz. Gaetz opposed the hate speech laws labeling criticism of Israel as anti-semitism.

This other crook Steven Alford tried to blackmail Gaetz's father (25 million) claiming he could get Matt Gaetz a pardon for a sex trafficking allegation. But only if he gave him money that would be used to get a Jewish spy out of Iran, Robert Levinson. (CIA)

Gaetz thinks the DOJ leaked information that they were investigating him to the extortionist and that they limited the case to a couple fall guys when it was a much larger network.

In the end Joel and Alford were convicted. Nothing was found on Gaetz and Levinson is still Iran if he is even alive.

Someone was trying to ensnare and blackmail rich American politicians so they could attempt to set free a Jewish spy in Iran.

Here is the weird part. Yeah that wasn't even the weird part yet.

When Gaetz was bring strong armed he went right to TV on the Tucker Carlson show and named his accusers. He named lawyers on TV and called them blackmailers.

David McGee and Bob Kent. (Steven Alford worked with them.) Gaetz said when his father was approached to give them 25M he went right to the FBI and they had him wear a wire.

[caiusmarciuscoriolanus]

Listen, the people who think the bear is inaccurate are wrong and have never been apart of the work force or even worked a job where management is unstable. You think you’re walking into your normal, slightly chaotic retail job and suddenly the sprinkler system is going off for the second time in a year and everyone’s running around trying to figure out what to do, and then your manager is screaming about an electrical fire and you’re staring at the gushing sprinkler knowing you’re gonna have to mop up tons of water and throw away tons of clothes later, and the regular customers who always come in are ready to throw a fit because they can’t buy their used clothes despite seeing 6 fire trucks outside the business and yet… it ends up being okay because at least it’s not like the first time where a chunk of ceiling fell down and you had to pick giant pieces of it in standing water. The water is soaking your socks but it’s okay, you smoked half a cig before having to come back inside. You might have had a tiny panic attack, but it’s okay you got pizza for lunch. And maybe, just maybe, you had a little fun mopping up dirty water with your rag tag coworkers.

[cis-advantage]

re can be devastating for any business, both financially and operationally. Understanding the fire damage restoration process is essential for ensuring your property is restored efficiently and safely. Knowing what to expect and taking the right steps after a fire can help minimize damage, reduce downtime, and protect your employees and assets.

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What to Do Immediately After a Fire:

It’s important not to attempt DIY cleanup after a fire. Fire damage is often deeper than what’s visible, and improper handling can worsen the damage or expose you to hazardous materials.

2. Fire and Smoke Damage Assessment

Before beginning the restoration process, a professional restoration team will conduct a thorough damage assessment to determine the extent of the fire and smoke damage. Fire can affect many areas of your building, from visible structural damage to hidden smoke residue in the HVAC system.

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The fire damage restoration process is a multi-step approach that includes cleaning, repairing, and restoring your property to its pre-fire condition. This requires expertise and the right equipment to handle smoke damage, soot removal, water damage, and any necessary repairs.

Steps in the Fire Damage Restoration Process:

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[rmoonstoner]

9:30ish am, 08/18/23

All works are temporarily on hold due to a wild fire close to my home.

Sorry for any inconvenience.

❤️ 💙

Update: 10:17am

All I can hear over the street construction for sewer are the echos of sirens in the city. The street construction crews are still working on my street. That tells me we are safe. For now.

Update: 2:40pm

More sirens. The air is thick and heavy with smoke. Burning embers are now hitting my neighborhood. Multiple areas have had small fires start up. We have set up sprinklers and started dousing our property.

Update: 08/19/23 - 2:55pm

The air quality is worse than before. We managed to get to the stores and get supplies to stock our van and camper. Lots of businesses are closed for the weekend, and if not, they close way earlier than before. We are all loaded and ready to go at a moment's notice.

Update: 08/20/23 - 8:10am

The fire has grown to 11,000 hectares as of 7:20pm last night. Over 30,000 people have been evacuated from their homes. A lot of people I know are. Power outages keep happening. The skies are still so smokey, we cannot see the mountains we are very close to. It's hard to see the houses down the street. Fire crews from all over British Columbia have come to our aid, which we are thankful for, even though we have multiple other fires happening in BC. As of yet, I am still lucky enough to be in my home with my family. Rest assured, we are packed and ready to leave when necessary.

On a lighter note, it is my eldest son's birthday today. We hope to make the most of this day. 🎂 ❤️

Update: 08/21/23 - 7:41am

First of all, my son loved his birthday yesterday. He understands what is happening as he's a teenager, so he wasn't expecting a big get-together with the fires happening. He was super happy he got ice cream cake and a whole pizza for himself and one for his best friend who was able to come spend the day with him. We gave him video game programming gear, new keyboard, new headphones, and movie tickets.

Secondly, it looks about the same today as it did yesterday. With the smoke in the air, the sun is red and it's cold outside when it supposed to be warm. Less sirens and one area on the evacuation map (that I noticed) has turned from evacuation now, to alert. It means those people in that area can go home for now, if local law enforcement allows it.

Update: 08/22/23 - 7:20am

I forgot to mention that all airports in our region are grounded and have been for at least two days due to the smoke and ash in thee air. All Canada post mail (to our region) has been put on immediate hold due to safety concerns. This is will definitely put a wrench into other delivery companies as well.

It finally rained last night. It was off and on all night. The smoke has cleared up enough to see the faded outline of the mountains 1 km away from me, finally.

One thing that boggles my mind is that so many people seem not bothered by the wild fires.

• The old lady I help was confused as to why I could not come on Friday or Monday. She apparently doesn't believe in getting ready for evacuation unless it actually happens. I have a family of 6, and 2 cats. I have to get all these people ready, as 2 are children, and 2 are seniors. My husband just had hip surgery 3 months ago, so he needs more help than he normally does.

• My father ignored my mother's pleas to pack up her things and get ready for the possible evacuation. He's a boomer that used to be a workaholic, and now he's retired and believes it's his God given right to be a lazy slob. So I had to do everything.

• The neighbor just gets on his motorbike and decides that going for a ride up the FIRE STRIKEN MOUNTAIN is a good idea.

• Other neighbors decided to have a BONFIRE in their back yard, while ash falls from the sky onto their heads.

• People in the city had the audacity to fire off FIREWORKS this weekend.

Like, wow.

Update: 08/23/23 - 1:00pm

It rained all night. The skies are clearer and breathable today. More of the red excavation zones have changed to orange alert areas. People are now being allowed back into their homes. Packages and mail has started to arrive today.

Update: 08/24/23 - 7:16am

Yesterday was cool and mildly windy. We have a little more smoke lingering in the air than yesterday, but it's still better than it was on the weekend.

☆☆☆

Stay safe out there!

❤️ 💙

[the-haunted-office]

(But isn't this breaking and entering? When I'm from, that's pretty damn illegal. And I don't feel like going to jail again today.)

//It'll be fine! There's nobody to arrest us! The guy who was in here earlier just left, so it's just us! Go ahead and narrate f-

(... is that a fire? Did somebody start a fire in the office?)

//Welp, it's your turn to narrate, have fun! I'm gonna go make a tuna sandwich!

(Wait, I-.... goddamn. Well, here I go again.)

*A low, growly voice starts speaking over the intercom.*

(The ghostly lady of whom I do not know her name, after setting the couch on fire, revealing it to be a raccoon, left the room quickly to escape consequences. What would she do next? Would she recognize the fact she's being narrated by someone new, or would she ignore it?)

[ @thereticentraconteur ! () are gambhorra'ta, // is Guy!]

Doomsday is mighty bored. That's why she set the couch in the employee lounge on fire. The Author wasn't doing her job - which is to write replies and drabbles and such for her and the rest of the muses - AND she had requested that someone light a fire under her ass, and naturally Doom was happy to deliver.

She's still bored, though, although the fact that she is able to express this boredom to the Audience means that the Author is back to work now, so there's at least that.

She's wondering what to do next when she hears the low, growly voice over the speakers.

She stops and listens. Now, her sense of hearing is severely distorted as one of the many wonderful side effects of having her soul digested and turned into soup by the Dampening mist, so she can't actually hear the low, growly voice, not in the way one with typical hearing might. What she does hear is more so what she feels - the vibrations and sound waves that are generated by the voice.

It gives her pause. Those aren't sound waves that she recognizes. And moreover someone is trying to narrate for her.

Hmmm. Perhaps her boredom will be staved off after all.

Grinning, she turns around and goes right back to the employee lounge where the couch is still ablaze. Thisday, who is up in the control booth at this time, is busy trying to simultaneously figure out how to turn on the sprinklers so as to put out the fire and who has hijacked the speaker system.

Still grinning, the Reaper goes and sets the curtains on fire. "I'm waiting for my consequences, Narrator, ehehehehe."