#stainless steel jack bolt

[aesteiron-steels]

What Are The Types Of Threaded Rods?

Threaded rods are an important component in numerous production and mechanical applications. Also called all-thread rods, stud bolts, or completely threaded bars, these versatile fasteners are designed for assembling one-of-a-kind systems, machines, and materials. They are broadly utilized in industries such as production, automotive, manufacturing, and greater. However, no longer all threaded rods are the identical, as they range in terms of materials, sizes, and threading styles. Understanding the different sorts let you pick out the right one on your venture.

1. Fully Threaded Rods

Fully Threaded Rods are threaded along their whole duration. They are one of the maximum commonplace kinds, offering uniform strength and grip throughout the entire rod. Due to their design, they may be perfect for applications requiring anxiety and compression. Fully threaded rods are often used in production for securing structural additives, striking pipes, or developing strong connections in frameworks. They are available a number of substances, together with metal, stainless-steel, and brass, permitting them to perform properly in exclusive environments, from fashionable to corrosive settings.

2. Partially Threaded Rods

As the name indicates, partially Threaded Rods have threads handiest on a component in their duration, leaving the relaxation of the rod easy. This kind of rod is frequently preferred in programs in which motion or adjustment is needed, as the unthreaded phase can serve as a pivot or bearing floor. Partially threaded rods are usually used in machinery, automotive parts, and different situations where a mixture of energy and versatility is vital. While no longer as universally applicable as absolutely threaded rods, they are vital in situations where pressure distribution must be controlled efficiently.

3. Acme Threaded Rods

Acme Threaded Rods are prominent with the useful resource of their trapezoidal thread design, which affords better electricity and sturdiness as compared to standard threaded rods. The threads are wider and flatter, making them especially desirable for heavy loads and high-pressure applications. Acme threads are regularly utilized in lead screws, jacks, and industrial machines in which precision movement or lifting is wanted. Due to their robust nature, Acme threaded rods are frequently determined in environments that require wear resistance and lengthy-lasting overall performance.

4. Double-Ended Threaded Rods

Double-ended Threaded Rods have threads on each end, leaving the centre phase unthreaded. These rods are regularly used for connecting additives in which each forestall want to be constant securely. One not unusual software is in car repair, wherein double-ended rods are used as connecting rods or tie rods. They are also discovered in plumbing and electric applications wherein securing multiple quantities of machine is required. These rods offer flexibility in installation, bearing in mind short and easy assembly of numerous structures.

5. Metric Threaded Rods

Metric threaded rods are outstanding thru their use of the metric machine for measuring thread period and pitch. They are generally used in countries that comply with the metric machine, ensuring compatibility with different metric-based totally additives. Metric threaded rods are available in each truly and in part threaded variations, and they arrive in several substances, consisting of carbon metallic, stainless steel, and aluminium. These rods are often utilized in international obligations or industries with strict adherence to metric requirements, making them vital for worldwide manufacturers.

6. Fine Threaded Rods

Fine threaded rods have threads which are spaced carefully collectively, which provides greater preserving energy and better resistance to loosening due to vibration. These rods are particularly beneficial in excessive-precision applications, such as in aerospace, car, or engineering tasks, in which tolerances are tight and every element need to be securely fastened. Fine threads provide better tension manipulate, making them appropriate for sensitive or high-overall performance assemblies.

Conclusion

Threaded Rods come in an extensive type of types, each tailor-made to specific packages and environments. Whether you are operating on a massive-scale production venture or a precision engineering mission, selecting the proper type of threaded rod is essential for ensuring stability, strength, and sturdiness. By information the variations between completely threaded rods, partially threaded rods, Acme rods, and other versions, you can make informed selections so as to beautify the effectiveness of your mission.

[prashaantsteelalloys]

What is an orifice flange?

ORIFICE FLANGE MATERIAL GRADE AND FACINGS

The Orifice Flange is used to measure how much product is flowing through the piping system. When the Orifice Plate is put in place, the flow is restricted. This makes a difference in pressure, which is used to measure how fast liquids, steam,or gasses are moving. The Orifice Plate is a thin plate with a hole in the middle. The size of the hole is based on the flow rate you want.

The traditional orifice flange assembly is made up of two flanges, an orifice plate, bolts, nuts, gaskets, jacking screws, and plugs. Jacking screws make it easy to get the primary flow element out of the way.

Orifice flanges are available in all ASTM forged grades (ASTM A105, ASTM A350, ASTM A694, and ASTM a182 for carbon, alloy, and stainless steel flanges, respectively), dimensions (combinations of nominal sizes and pressure ratings), and shapes (socket weld, threaded, or weld neck) (WN is the most used).

Orifice Flange assemblies are available in all ASTM material grades and fall under ASME B16.36. They can have either a Raised Face or a Ring Type Joint facing. They aren't made in 150# rated Flanges because they aren't thick enough to let the pressure taps be drilled. Instead, they are made in 300#, 600#, 900#, 1500#, and 2500# Classes.

ORIFICE UNIONS

The Orifice Flange assemblies are made up of two Flanges, bolts, nuts, gaskets, jack screws, and plugs. The jack screws are used to put the Orifice Plate in place or take it out. Orifice Unions are the names for these groups of parts. To avoid turbulence at the Orifice Plate, the Orifice Flanges are installed in a straight run of pipe with ten pipe diameters upstream of the Orifice Plate and five pipe diameters downstream. The American Gas Association says this is the case.

Orifice flanges are a type of flange that are mostly used in the industrial world to measure how fast liquids, gases, or steam move through pipelines. They are often used in the oil and gas, chemical, and water treatment industries, where measuring flow accurately is important for the best results.

In this article, we'll talk about what an orifice flange is, how it works, what it can be used for, and why it's important for industrial operations to run smoothly.

Understanding Orifice Flange

An orifice flange is a special kind of flange that is put into a pipeline system to measure how fast a fluid is moving through it. It is made up of a plate with a hole in the middle and two flanges on either side. The orifice plate makes a drop in pressure that can be used to measure how fast the fluid is moving.

There are many different sizes, types of materials, and pressure ratings for orifice flanges. The flow rate and the size of the pipe are used to figure out the size of the orifice. The type of fluid going through the pipeline determines what kind of material is used to make the orifice flange. For instance, if the fluid is corrosive, the orifice flange must be made of a material that doesn't corrode, like stainless steel.

What is the purpose of an orifice flange?

A pressure drop in the pipeline system is what makes an orifice flange work. As the fluid moves through the orifice plate, its speed goes up while the pressure goes down. The pressure drop is related to the flow rate, and it can be measured with pressure gauges on either side of the orifice plate.

Bernoulli's equation can be used to figure out how fast the fluid is moving based on the difference in pressure across the orifice plate. The equation shows how the flow of a fluid is related to the drop in pressure across an orifice plate.

How Orifice Flanges Are Used

Most of the time, orifice flanges are used in pipeline systems to measure flow. They are used in many different fields, such as:

Oil and gas: Orifice flanges are used to measure how fast crude oil, natural gas, and other petroleum products flow.

Orifice flanges are used to measure the flow rate of chemicals and corrosive liquids in the chemical industry.

Orifice flanges are used in water treatment plants to measure the flow rate of water and waste water.

In addition to measuring flow, orifice flanges are also used in systems that lower pressure. In these systems, they help lower the pressure of the fluid flowing through the pipeline.

Orifice Flanges Have Some Pros

Orifice flanges have a number of advantages, such as:

- Accurate flow measurement: Orifice flanges make it possible to measure flow accurately, which is important for industrial operations to run smoothly.

- Cost-effective: Orifice flanges aren't as expensive as flow meters or other devices used to measure flow.

- Easy to set up: Orifice flanges are easy to set up and don't need much maintenance.

How to Install an Orifice Flange

To measure flow accurately, orifice flanges must be installed correctly. The orifice plate needs to be in the middle of the pipeline, and the flanges need to be tightened to the right torque. To measure pressure correctly, the pressure taps on either side of the orifice plate must also be installed correctly.

Flange dimensions 150 refer to the size of the flange as per ANSI/ASME standards. This flange size is commonly used in various industrial applications, including petrochemical, chemical, and oil and gas industries.

The dimensions of flange 150 are as follows:

-The nominal size of the flange is 1.5 inches (38.1 mm)

-The outer diameter of the flange is 5.0 inches (127 mm)

-The bolt circle diameter is 3.88 inches (98.6 mm)

-The number of bolt holes is four

-The diameter of bolt holes is 0.62 inches (15.7 mm)

-The thickness of the flange is 0.88 inches (22.4 mm)

-It is important to note that these dimensions are specific to flange 150 and     may vary for other flange sizes.

The flange 150 is designed to withstand high pressure and temperature, making it suitable for various industrial applications. It is typically made of materials such as carbon steel, stainless steel, and alloy steel, depending on the specific application requirements.

[flangesnuts]

 Orifice Flange by flangesnuts

 Orifice Flange

Use Of  Orifice Flange

orifice flange  -The function of the orifice flange is to measure the rate of the flow of the commodity through the piping system. Orifice flanges are easy to recognize because they have a hole drilled through the face of the flange perpendicular to the pipe. They also have an additional set of bolts called jack screws.

What is the purpose of a  Orifice Flange ?

In fluid mechanics, an orifice is a plate that is inserted in a line and typically has a round hole in its centre. Orifices are used as fixed throttles that generate head loss. The head loss caused by an orifice can be used to determine the volume or mass rate of flow during flow metering.

Application of Orifice Flange by FLangesnuts 

ANSI B16.5 Class 150 Threaded Flanges uses in Industrial Boilers Industry

ASTM A182 Stainless Steel Threaded Flanges uses in Power Plants Industry

ASME B16.47 Series A and B Threaded Flanges uses in Nuclear Plants Industry

Stainless Steel Threaded Flanges uses in Oil & Gas Industry

Super Duplex Steel Threaded Flanges uses in Refineries Industry

Industrial Threaded Flanges uses in Ship Building Industry

Super Duplex Steel Threaded Flange Forged Flanges uses in Heat Exchanger Industry

Carbon Steel Industrial Threaded Flanges uses in Condensers Industry

Alloy Steel Industrial Threaded Flanges uses in Paper & Pulp Industry

Duplex Steel Industrial Threaded Flanges uses in Marine Applications

Stainless Steel Industrial Threaded Flanges uses in Nuclear Power Industry

Industrial Threaded Flange / Fittings System uses in Fossil Fuel Power Plants Industry

Orifice Flange Used in different industries by 

FLangesnuts 

 Refineries Gas Processing Off-Shore Oil Drilling Companies Petrochemicals Hydro-Carbon Fertilizers Paper & Pulp Companies Power Generation Specialty Chemicals Pharmaceuticals Drugs Steel Cement Water Pipe Line Pesticides General Piping Construction Engineering Nuclear Food Processing & Dairy boiler & heatexchangers 

[contemplativepancakes]

something to prove

for the lovely @witcher-and-his-bard's birthday!! happy birthday, alex! hope you had a great day <3

2k, explicit pwp, Geralt x Eskel x Jaskier

on ao3 here

Eskel grunts as he pounds the dough against the floured counter, Jaskier looking on from his spot on the stool. “You could help, you know.”

Jaskier grins at him. “And miss out on such a lovely view?”

Eskel glares as he mounds the dough back to a ball and punches it down.

“Do you know there are better ways to work out aggression?”

When Eskel glances back up, Jaskier is giving him a sly grin. “That sounds like a health code violation,” he says dryly, putting his ball of dough into a bowl to proof again.

Jaskier slides off his stool and walks over to wrap his arms around Eskel. Eskel leans back into the embrace, shaking his head and biting back his fond smile when Jaskier grinds against his ass. “Jaskier,” he growls in warning.

“What?”

Eskel rolls his eyes. “Don’t act so innocent.”

Jaskier moves his hands down, until they’re pressing right against Eskel’s crotch. Eskel tears off a sheet of plastic wrap to put over his bowl of dough, cursing when the wrap clings to itself. He fumbles with it, trying to peel it apart with clumsy fingers.

Jaskier’s fingers find the button of Eskel’s jeans under his apron and unzips them in a sound that echos in Eskel’s ears. Eskel gives up all pretenses of trying to finish his dough and squirms around in Jaskier’s grip to capture his lips in a messy kiss, hot breath intermingling. Jaskier tastes like he’s been eating the cookies Eskel explicitly told him not to, and he bites Jaskier’s lower lip in retaliation.

Jaskier shoves his hand down Eskel’s boxers, and Eskel lets out a sharp breath at the feeling of a hand other than his own on himself. Jaskier pulls back. “You’ve been so busy lately. How am I supposed to cope all by my little lonesome?”

Eskel mouths at his neck. “I think you find plenty of ways to manage. Geralt, for one.”

Jaskier pouts. “Geralt’s never as nice to me as you are.”

Eskel doubts that. Jaskier has Geralt wrapped around his pinkie, but the words get lost as Jaskier tightens his grip on Eskel’s cock and starts to move his hand in long, torturous strokes. He stops briefly to lick the palm of his hand, before starting again until Eskel is fully hard. Eskel tries to twist to get a grip on Jaskier, but he turns out of reach. “I want to take care of you,” he says, slinging his free arm around Eskel’s neck.

Eskel lets him, leaning back against the counter as Jaskier slowly jacks him, trying not to let his mind drift to how he’s going to have to clean the kitchen after this just yet. His hand finds a pile of flour, and he curses as he rips it away from the counter, finding a new spot on Jaskier’s hip. He shifts it down, appreciating the white handprint on Jaskier that marks him as Eskel’s.

Eskel tips his head back, and Jaskier moves closer, lathing his tongue up Eskel’s neck until landing on the bolt of his jaw and focusing his attention there. Eskel’s eyes shut, his arms wrapping around Jaskier’s waist as his steady rhythm brings him closer to the edge.

There’s a swishing sound, and a sharp intake of breath, and Eskel cracks an eye open to see Geralt has just pushed through the swinging doors. His cock throbs painfully, and Jaskier draws back, squeezing around the base. The pressure against Eskel’s chest disappears, Jaskier giving Geralt a sly grin.

“Really? In my kitchen?” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier flutters his lashes. “Why? Would you like to join?”

“Someone is going to report me to the health inspector.”

“Well, if you’re going to be all grumpy about it, maybe I’ll just make you watch.”

By the deer in the headlights look Geralt gives that, Eskel assumes Geralt would like that very much, and his cock aches when the pressure leaves it as Jaskier walks away to drag a stool closer to them.

Eskel stares, not moving, as Jaskier draws Geralt into a long, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, Jaskier pushes Geralt down to the chair. “Don’t touch yourself until I say so,” he says severely, and then Jaskier’s instrument calloused fingers are back on Eskel’s cock. He brings Eskel right up to the edge, and Eskel keens when Jaskier’s touch leaves him, flitting back to Geralt as he tugs him off his chair. Jaskier’s still completely clothed and barely ruffled as he fishes through his bag for the lube that Eskel knows he carries around with him.

“Touch yourself,” Jaskier directs Eskel, then to Geralt, “Bend over.”

Geralt looks at Jaskier with wide eyes, his gaze dragging to where Eskel’s hand is moving underneath his green apron, a growing wet spot on the front.

Jaskier comes behind Geralt and prods him until his elbows are on the counter. “I feel like I’m getting a prostate exam,” Geralt complains, and Eskel snickers.

“Aren’t you?”

Jaskier pulls Geralt’s pants and boxer briefs down to his thighs, then his ankles, and Geralt steps out of them. Eskel’s eyes flutter shut at the thought of someone walking in and seeing them like this, Eskel’s tent and growing wet spot on the front of his apron, and Geralt naked from the waist down. When Eskel opens his eyes again, it’s to Jaskier shoving two fingers into Geralt’s hole.

“Getting it ready for you,” Jaskier says, and Eskel can’t hold back his moan any longer. The warmth of his rough hand against his cock and the sight in front of him is too much. Jaskier nudges Geralt’s legs further apart, and then gestures Eskel to them. He wipes his fingers on Eskel’s apron before taking it off him, hanging it on a hook by the door.

Eskel frowns, but Jaskier is anticipating it. “Yes, yes, I’ll wash it for you later.”

His hands come up to let down Eskel’s hair from its bun, the coarse strands falling down around his face as Jaskier twirls one around his finger. “So handsome,” he whispers, before wrapping his arms around Eskel and pulling him into a heated kiss.

When they finally pull away from each other, Geralt hasn’t moved, still leaned over the stainless steel countertop, his sack hanging heavy beneath him. “What a good boy,” Jaskier says, ghosting his fingers over Geralt’s ass and slipping under his shirt and up his back.

Jaskier takes the bottle of lube again and squeezes it onto his hand, slicking Eskel’s cock while. he sucks with a bruising intensity on Eskel’s neck, making him shiver.

There’s a smack, and Eskel opens his eyes to see a faint pink on Geralt’s ass. “No touching,” Jaskier says lightly, and Geralt whines.

Jaskier huffs. “Fine, fine. Impatient much?”

Jaskier takes his fingers away from Eskel. He’s positively dripping by now, precome and lube falling in drops to the floor. Jaskier gestures at him, and Eskel situates his hands around geralt’s waist, his thumbs digging in.

Eskel’s cockhead nudges against Geralt’s hole, pressing in slowly as Geralt hisses. He gives Geralt time to adjust, focusing on not coming right then and there. Eskel looks down at where Geralt is stretched perfectly around him, tight and warm.

Geralt starts to reach forward to himself, but Eskel takes both of his wrists and holds them behind his back. He leans forward, his lips tickling Geralt’s ear as he says, “Don’t you think you can come just from my cock?”

A strangled noise is wrenched out of Geralt at that, and Eskel looks away to see Jaskier, with his pants finally undone and leaning against the counter as he strokes himself. “Hey, let’s keep the show going,” Jaskier says at Eskel’s pause, waving his hand.

Eskel nuzzles his nose against Geralt’s neck, finally starting to move. He bites his lip to stave off his orgasm, determined to make Geralt come first. His grip on Geralt’s wrist tightens, his fingers leaving red marks behind. Geralt shudders as Eskel finds his prostate, and Eskel adjusts the angle of his hips so he can keep hitting that spot, snapping his hips back and forth. The slap of skin echos in the small room, combined with the wet sounds of Jaskier jerking himself and making breathy noises.

Eskel looks away to hide his small smile at Jaskier, always a performer at heart. He looks back and winks at him. “You’re not too bad of a show yourself.”

Jaskier moves forward at this, draping his arms around Eskel’s neck and grinding against his ass. His cock slips between Eskel’s thighs, and Eskel lets Jaskier fuck him there, fluttering his eyes shut at the feeling of Jaskier’s cock sliding between his thighs and against his perineum and sack. It’s awkward for a moment, both of them moving at once, but they find their rhythm soon enough.

Jaskier tweaks Eskel’s nipples before his hands slide away, his fingers coming to prod at Eskel’s hole, slipping a finger tip in. Eskel bites down on the junction of Geralt’s shoulder and neck before drawing back and lathing over it with his tongue. He keeps brushing past Geralt’s prostate until Geralt is a whimpering mess beneath him.

He looks like a picture with his face flushed and his hair in disarray, and Eskel is tempted to touch his cock, but it’s so much better like this, with Geralt panting, open mouthed and desperate for them. Eskel’s lip is nearly bloody from how hard he’s biting it to keep himself from coming.

Jaskier nibbles at Eskel’s ear, and finally, Geralt is crying out, clenching around Eskel as he comes, his cheek pressed against the cool stainless steel table.

It’s obscene, really.

Eskel thrusts a few more times before he lets himself follow Geralt off the edge, spilling into him. Jaskier stops fucking Eskel’s thighs and starts stripping his own cock, his gasps getting progressively louder until there’s a warmth painting Eskel’s thighs. Eskel slips out of Geralt, his come dripping out sluggishly behind him, and Eskel watches it, transfixed.

His eyes slide to the mark he left on Geralt’s neck. In the polished metal he can see the white flour handprint on Jaskier’s ass, and the mark Jaskier left on him. It makes him feel something he doesn’t want to examine too closely.

Geralt stays in his position, trying to catch his breath as Eskel strokes up and down his back. Jaskier disappears and returns with a wet wipe, using it on the back of Eskel’s thighs before handing it to Eskel to perfunctorily clean Geralt up.

Eskel pulls Geralt up from the table and kisses him hungrily, his hand reaching back to squeeze Geralt’s ass. Geralt swats his hand away and bites Eskel’s lip, Eskel’s signal to let Jaskier have his turn.

“Not enough kissing for your taste?” Jaskier asks in amusement, zipping up his pants and looking entirely too unaffected by the whole thing.

“No.”

Geralt finds his pants in a puddle on the floor, and Eskel tucks himself back into his boxers, zipping up his jeans. He doesn’t even want to look at his apron.

Geralt starts scrubbing at the counter, and Eskel throws a towel at Jaskier. “Help with the mess you made.”

Jaskier pats Eskel on the ass and takes a seat back on his stool. “Why would I when the view is so much nicer from here?”

Eskel shares an exasperated look with Geralt, but fond smiles twist their lips.

The clean up is worth it.

[tctliftinguk-blog]

To help support lifting equipment, shackles and eyebolts are perfect. Enquire to buy from TTC Lifting, your factory machinery will be safer than ever!

[dimigex]

21: One kiss limit. Reaper76

Reyes wiped a smear of blood from his mouth and ignored the sting of pain that it brought. He glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, its red light blinking in a steady rhythm. This wasn’t the first time that Gabriel had been locked in an interrogation room. He peered at the two-way mirror, wondering who stood on the other side. Had the orders to seize him come from Ana, Jack, or someone higher up in the food chain? Gabe didn’t know, and honestly he didn’t care. 

The men who had dragged him here could have come from anywhere. Well, anywhere except Blackwatch. Reyes knew his soldiers as well as he knew himself. He would have been surprised to find that the order came from Jack, despite the man’s seething anger the last time that Gabe had seen him. The soldiers that dragged him from bed had made it clear that they weren’t above excessive force. 

Reyes hadn’t made it easy on them, at least. His right eye had started to swell, reducing his vision by half. The girl that gave him that had gotten lucky with her elbow, mostly because he was surprised to see a female in the squad sent to bring him in. He’d fought with and against both genders and held no illusions that women could be as deadly as men. But, he’d expected the body mass that grabbed him to belong to a male. A comment along those lines had earned him the busted lip as well. 

Running his tongue across the wound, Reyes tasted blood a second time. He focused on the details around him: the coppery tang in his mouth, the blinking red light, the chill of the stainless steel beneath his finger tips. He forced his heartbeat to slow and curved his lips into an unaffected sneer. If they wanted to paint him a villain, he’d be damned if he didn’t give them the performance of a lifetime. 

The door handle jiggled, giving Reyes three seconds of warning. He tensed, considering making a break for it, then relaxed. Whomever had put him here sent six heavies to bring him in, even if he made it through the door, it would be guarded. He would only be playing into their hands to try and run. It would be better to bide his time and see what this farce was about. 

The man that stepped through the door made Gabriel’s heart stumble in his chest. Jack wore the white and blue of Strike Commander, the conforming armor making him seem larger than life. He carried a datapad in one hand but he didn’t glance down at the device, laying it on the table. He didn’t bother looking at Gabriel either, his eyes bored into a spot above his head as the door clicked shut behind him.  

The silence dragged on for several long seconds. Gabriel wondered what the hell he’d done this time. Finally, when no answer was forthcoming, he cleared his throat. “Jack? What’s this–”

“Strike Commander Morrison,” the blond snarled, voice icy steel and disdain. “Try to get at least one thing right, could you?” 

Reyes sneered. So, it was going to be like that was it? He didn’t bother repeating the title of his one time lover. That distinction had caused enough problems already. Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and held his silence. Jack rounded, facing him for the first time. His blue eyes were hard, unreadable. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“It would be nice to know you want me to say,” Reyes shot back, anger bubbling up too easily. It had been weeks since he’d talked to Jack beyond feigned cordiality. A month or longer since he’d had anything but cold stares and angry distance. Like Gabe were a problem the precious Strike Commander didn’t have time to deal with. Despite his desire to be unaffected, Gabe’s rage bubbled. “Maybe some clue as to why you dragged me here in the first place?” 

Jack’s gaze slid across Gabriel’s face, pausing momentarily on the swollen lip and eye. He shook his head sharply and activated the datapad. The screen behind him lit up with a map of Rialto. Jack scrolled through the images. Headline after headline about the abuse of Overwatch, questions about who watched the watchdog, and power corrupting even the best intents flew across the screen that the words started to blur together. Then came the photographs, pictures from Antonio’s manor, the shattered glass and broken body. Images from Rome, older missions that Reyes had almost forgotten about. 

Jack continued scrolling until Reyes felt an itch between his shoulder blades; he waited for the inevitable dagger. He knew what Jack wanted, what Jack needed, but he couldn’t carry those ghosts. Reyes grinned. “So?” 

The datapad hit the table so hard that the screen cracked and the television images vanished. “Your flippant remarks aren’t going to save you this time. Do you really think you’re above the laws we made?” 

“Yes,” Reyes answered, snorting under his breath. “You’re the one that opted for plausible deniability, not me.” 

Gabriel should have seen the movement, noticed the snap of a coil wound too tight, but his face hitting the table still surprised him. It reopened the flow of blood from his lip, made his eye sting, and knocked the breath from his lungs. He splayed his fingers on the table and pushed himself back. Reyes made himself grin. “Look at that, even Boyscout can get his hands dirty when he’s angry enough.” 

Jack slammed a fist into the table, making it tremble against the bolts holding it to the floor. The sound echoed between them, and his next words were emotionless ice. “You’re going to give me the answers I want, one way or another.”

Without looking at Reyes, Jack walked to the corner of the room and activated the biometric panel. The machine beeped when he placed his palm on it, then leaned closer so it could scan the pattern of his iris. The two way mirror across the room turned black, and the red light on the camera stopped. Reyes started to speak but Jack held up one finger, eyes glued to the analog clock above the door. Then, he nodded. “We have two minutes.“ 

"What the fuck–”

Reyes barely got the words out before Jack was beside him. One hand fell on his shoulder, the other came to brush his cheek. “I’m sorry. I had to make it convincing.”

“Well, you fucking convinced me,” Gabe seethed, jerking away from the touch. “What the hell?" 

Jack withdrew his hand and glanced at the clock a second time. "They won’t tell me what they plan to charge you with. I barely got access; they’re afraid I’m compromised.”

The pieces fell into place with a resounding click. Shit. Gabe tipped his head to look up at the blond. “So, I’ll take the fall, and you’ll keep your pristine reputation." 

"We have one minute left together, and you want to waste it arguing,” Jack grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Ana and I are doing everything we can, but Overwatch doesn’t have the pull it used to.”

Gabriel grunted without answering. The disastrous missions that Jack had thrown in his face were the main reason Overwatch had fallen from grace. Jack reached out a second time. “I didn’t know they planned to take you until it was over.”

Reyes turned away from the almost caress, anger burning his chest. “Don’t act like you care. You’ve hardly looked at me if–" 

"Dammit, you’re all I see,” Jack hissed, hauling Gabe to his feet by the front of his shirt. “Do you have any idea what I risked turning off that monitoring, coming here in the first place? They’re waiting for me to mess up so they can drag all of Overwatch down with you." 

"Then, let it burn.” Gabe growled. He saw the pain flash across Jack’s face and almost felt bad for the sharp words. Almost. 

Jack sighed and scrubbed through his hair. “We don’t have time for this. Just remember, no matter what happens, I’ll get you out." 

Gabe wanted to ask for more information, but irresistible pressure dragged him forward. His chest hit Jack’s, their lips meshed together, and the world spun. He had no idea how long of their two minutes Jack saved for that kiss, but it was worth every bruise on his battered face. 

The hand in Gabe’s shirt shoved him back into the chair seconds almost at the same time as the door opened. Jack picked up the busted datapad and turned away. He nodded toward the stranger. "He’s all yours.”

[lucidityisabsent]

chickenwire glass window

meantime at the hospital Jack is talking to Jill roaming the halls back forth racing a stainless steel cart. OH SHIT

fooled you this is a small room with no table or chairs. over there in the corner is Susan.

Susan is wearing a dress with deep pockets on either side. in one of the pockets she keeps a bolt of lightning. the other deep pocket she could hide in

if ever attacked by bats. why doesn’t this room have any chairs? a table? oh my look this room has bats! Susan crawled into her deep pocket.  

                                   the room is now empty.

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Like the Rat You Are

Rows upon rows of metal carcasses towered on both sides of the narrow valley of steel. Piles of trashed automobile wrecks, silent and dead, stacked to the high heavens. Metal and plastic scrap parts littered the dirty ground in between these monoliths of trash. Broken glass crunched underneath Kevin’s boot.

The sound of it echoed through these artificial canyons of industrial refuse, causing him to pause and look around with a sensation bordering on a panic. Under the cover of night, in the dead silence, that sound sliced through the sky like a knife. His heart raced, accelerating to ever greater heights as he held his breath and listened for any audible clue of reactions to the noise he had inadvertently caused.

After nearly a minute passed, he continued creeping through the junkyard. Closer and closer to the head office at its center, sneaking underneath the looming shadow of the claw that the crane and magnet-arms cast in the moonlight. He tried peering through windows to see inside the dark office, but grime and filth caked its panes, obscuring everything within.

The rusty metal of the door’s handle felt cold in his hand as he gripped it. And twisted. The door was open. Unlocked. Made sense, given that most of Dusty’s security focused on the entering the premises, rather than what was on the messy grounds.

For a moment, Kevin thought that he might succeed at this without anybody dying, after all.

He stepped inside and looked around. It smelled of metal dust and rust. And of the cold itself. It was deeply cold in here, almost more so than outside. So cold that his breath condensed into little clouds just in front of his mouth. That all disappeared when he closed the door behind himself.

The faint remnants of light that managed to seep in through the dirt on the office windows rendered everything in vague, dark silhouettes. There were probably shelves stacked with things, and chairs, and a desk. And yet other things, bunched up against the wall.

To shed some light, he removed a stainless steel lighter from his leather jacket’s pocket, flicked it open, and snapped the flint so it produced its tiny flame. With luck, tiny enough to not be too conspicuous, but enough to see anything in there.

Without any sign of life in the junkyard except for himself, and a more deafening silence inside the office, his heartbeat calmed from the pace it had picked up during his stealthy approach. He swallowed and took in his surroundings.

Most of what he expected to find in Dusty McVeigh’s office was there. The place was a terrible mess, but not any worse than some of the trailer trash homes, dingy motels, abandoned derelicts filled with squatters, and other run-down places Kevin had been in and out of over the course of the past year. Sometimes, that’s just where our mystical journeys take us. This was Kevin’s path.

A pile of random junk cluttered Dusty’s desk, but none of it caught Kevin’s eye. The things that stood out the most were the big solid black safe next to the water cooler—presumably what he had come here for—and an easel with a painting on it, standing all lonely in middle of the room.

The impressionist painting really drew and kept Kevin’s attention. It depicted this same room, with a view through the window onto the junkyard on a bright sunny day.

It was a damn good painting, too, he thought to himself. If Dusty had made this, then he had some serious talent. Maybe he should make a living in art instead of stealing from occult collectors?

The irony of his own thoughts was not lost on him, fully well aware that he was going to steal something from Dusty now.

The artifact had to be inside that safe. It would be the perfect place to keep it secure.

Kevin sidled up to the small vault and looked it over, inspecting its size and make. It looked extremely heavy, like a tow truck would have to drag it out of there, and it had been bolted down onto the floor. So taking the whole shebang was out of the question.

Combination lock. No way of guessing the numbers—Dusty was clever. The bastard would never use any easy combination that anybody could guess. The junkyard owner was missing half his teeth due to a crippling meth addiction and constantly smeared in dirt and motor oil all over, but Dusty McVeigh probably had the IQ of a super-genius. No other way he could work the juju he worked.

Kevin knew better than to just blindly try out different combinations on the lock. Instead, he pressed the tip of his index and middle fingers up against the number wheel of the lock and whispered while inhaling, “Diopes dism, emnothesis iento vingnorm. Mag crein.”

As he focused and the painful words escaped his lips, jumbles of mundane words and numbers coalesced in his mind. He started seeing, hearing, and tasting broken thoughts—thoughts stolen from the void to which Dusty’s thoughts had trailed off to in previous days.

Gazing into the sky while high as a kite, lying on the hood of an old muscle car. Furiously jacking off to photos of half-naked women in magazine advertisements. The cool calm nerves that came with smoking a cigarette after a long day of hard work. An argument with his friend and the pain his knuckles from throwing and landing a punch that connected to bone. Words that did not connect to sentences, numbers that did not belong together. Strings of arcane symbols that Dusty thought about a lot in his occult studies. Lots of books, most of them fiction.

Instead of drawing a sequence of numbers that opened the safe, something else took shape in Kevin’s mind. A pair of eyes. Glaring. Furious. Staring at him through the veil.

Not a memory. But the here and now. Elsewhere, but connected over a bridge of all things ethereal. Dusty had woken up—jolted awake because he had secured this safe with a spell of his own. Something that flared up the moment Kevin had tried to suss out the combination from the environs of the lock itself. Magick bound to the entire safe, clashing with Kevin’s spell, alerting Dusty to an intruder’s presence tampering with the safe in any way—including the intangible ways of magick.

There it was again: the racing heartbeat. Cold sweat erupting from Kevin’s pores. The feeling that bordered on panic, however, had returned with a vengeance. Full-blooded panic now, causing his glands to pump mind-numbing adrenaline throughout his body.

He had to act quickly now. Get creative.

A German shepherd’s barking in the distance underlined that growing sense of urgency balling up into a tight pit in Kevin’s stomach. Floodlights switched on outside, one by one. Bathing the towering piles of car husks in a glaring bright white shine. Turning the whole junkyard into a sea of light.

Before Kevin severed his spell—and thus the connection to that burning image of Dusty’s eyes, he last glimpsed bony hands with dirt under the fingernails gripping a shotgun. Loading slugs into its chamber. Pumping some mechanism, pumping little black-powder-powered agents of death.

Kevin stuffed the lighter back into his pocket, as the floodlights outside did their part in illuminating the office well enough for him to see everything clearly.

He scanned the desk with haste, looking for anything he could use.

Junk—just a lot of junk. He looked around the shelves, finding only tools, scrap parts, and more trash. Nothing useful. Not even a damned thing he could improvise as a useful weapon.

The barking neared. Someone shouted something. Dusty probably would be bringing company, both canine and human. Likely armed to the teeth. Everybody had guns in this neck of the woods, and the six-shooter weighing a ton in Kevin’s pocket would never have enough bullets for all of them. Not like he was much of a fighter anyway; the thing was usually more for show and coercion than anything else.

Then the painting caught his eye again. Dusty was clever, but so was Kevin. A desperate idea formed in his brain; something that might even work out.

The safe was depicted on the painting, too. Dusty’s meticulous attention to detail was going to be useful.

Kevin’s hands trembled as they dug through the assortment of junk on Dusty’s desk. Some of the useless objects clattered and clanked and fell off the surface of the desktop. Frustrated because he knew he had seen what he needed just seconds before but failed to find it now, he swept a whole load of items off the table, causing them to crash down onto the floor.

There it was: a thumbtack. It would serve well enough.

The noise outside got closer and closer. Probably less than a minute away. Creeping across that distance had taken Kevin minutes, but was a matter of seconds for the junkyard’s owner and his goon buddies.

Kevin licked his lips and stood in front of the painting.

“Wisthibrea, sestna wasterei velth, delwen sidrom,” he said, focusing on the painting with all his might. He repeated it again, blotting out the noise drawing ever closer outside.

Kevin then brought the thumbtack’s needle to the painting and began defacing it. Scratching over the safe’s depiction specifically. The scratching sounds swelled to deafening heights, swallowing all other sounds in the world to the point of turning the world around him silent.

He repeated the magick words a third time, this time just whispering them, but every syllable oozing out with clarity and purpose that resonated with the cosmos. He could practically feel the gravity of the stars all around, piercing the nightly sky and those stars seeing him simultaneously. Watching, silently judging. Pulling.

The needle tore into the canvas, chipping away dried paint and ripping up the fabric until it was just shredded threads. He couldn’t even hear his own breathing anymore.

Kevin’s head swiveled and he looked at the safe. Its front was missing, just a gaping hole with frayed edges, solid metal looking like it had been chewed away by a giant with steel teeth.

The contents of the safe were his to take.

A bunch of papers, stacks of cash, and other shit he had no use for.

All he wanted was that small alabaster statuette. Its maker in the 1800s had carved it to look like a praying Franciscan monk, maybe even the eponymous old sage himself. The history behind this thing had no bearing right now, though; Kevin dismissed any such thoughts.

All that mattered was this artifact’s secret power. Not only did he need it to find and get Kim out of that infernal town in Washington, it was now his only ticket of getting out of this jam he had gotten himself into. He grabbed the statuette, clutched it with all his might. Not going to let it go easily, now.

The barking was just outside. Intense. Angry. Hungry, maybe.

Kevin concentrated, wracking his brain to remember the precise words he needed to use to wield this artifact properly.

The shouting had become much clearer, as well.

The man yelling was none other than Dusty himself, swearing up a storm, “You dumb son of a bitch! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you skinny pale-faced cross-dressing motherfucker, you! I know it’s you! Come out and I’ll make it quick, shithead!”

The windows exploded into a flurry of glass shards, the deafening echo of the gunshot followed, ringing in Kevin’s ears. Something warm trickled down his forehead, which he found to be blood from a fresh cut, from the glass that had shattered in the shot.

He ducked behind the desk, making his way towards the door.

“You’re dead! You hear me? You’re fucking dead!”

Another shot tore a gaping hole through the office’s flimsy wall. A cloud of dust continued to roil in the air in its wake, dancing in the bright light flooding in through that hole.

The pain decided to set in with delay, maybe thanks to the adrenaline. Nothing about it was good though, as it clouded Kevin’s thoughts. He reeled, stumbling and then crawling towards the office’s only door.

The sticky hot mess seeping out between his fingers from his belly region splattered out onto the floor.

He had no time nor capacity to check how bad it really was. Kevin currently couldn’t even be sure if he had been hit by anything from Dusty’s shotgun directly, or if it was just debris that the shots that had blasted through the office wall. Blood was blood. An injury an injury.

It hurt like hell, stinging, and robbing him of the strength needed to spring back up into standing. Every movement burned with an unpleasant fire in his gut. Acting on instinct, he pressed his other hand against it while dragging himself closer to the door, the alabaster statuette clutched in his other hand. Dark crimson dots marred the otherwise pure white surface of the object—his own blood.

Another hit and Kevin would be a goner. It was time to go.

He stared at the statuette in his hand and began reciting the words.

“Etheris brahecket hisret dwerio—”

A coughing fit broke out and interrupted his own speech, and each revolving contraction allowed the pain to flare up even brighter, clouding his field of vision with a darkness encroaching from the edges and bright lights glaring against it, leaving a kaleidoscope of colorful blind spots behind. His eyesight blurred but he blinked several times to dispel that growing visual impairment.

Encouraged by hearing his suffering, Dusty shouted outside, “Yeah, you like that, you lil’ bitch? Gonna string you up and eviscerate your sorry ass. Like the rat you are!”

Kevin gritted his teeth and started from the top, training his stare on the statuette while he repeated the magick words.

It looked so serene. So pure. What it looked like on the surface meant nothing, however. What truly mattered was the life force bound to it. The karma, or dharma, or essence, or mojo, or whatever the hell anybody preferred to call it.

“Etheris brahecket hisret dweriomon,” Kevin recited the magick words. His voice trembled as he focused on the incantation, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his abdomen.

“Son of a—don’t stand around, you lazy fuckers! Get inside and end that walkin’ piece of shit!”

Shuffling of feet. Tiny pieces of garbage and gravel crunching underneath the heels of people nearing the office entrance. Kevin did not need to see them, he knew they were all pointing guns at the door, prepared to kill a man without a second thought.

“Shoshiame wielnod eneroh, plagat thereo eteneadeth,” Kevin finished. Then he started repeating it.

He grunted, struggled to get up on his feet. Another shot tore another hole into the office wall nearby, shattering more glass. Something cut him as a consequence of that, but it was minor and the other pain deep down overshadowed it all.

Kevin let go of his injury and grabbed the rusty metal handle of the office door, leaving a bloody hand print on it. Cold in between his fingers, countering the hot stickiness clinging to his skin. Coarse and rusty, he could practically taste it.

But he never tore his gaze off the statuette, and projected his mind elsewhere. Directed his thoughts to another place. A dank cellar underneath a strip club belonging to a friend of his.

It would do.

He squeezed, twisted the handle, and ripped the door open. Another shot echoed through the air. The dog barked louder and angrier, and the men neared.

But behind that door was that dank cellar, not the junkyard outside the office. Kevin lurched through and slammed the door shut behind him.

The door to the boiler room, adjacent of that dank cellar. Over a thousand miles away from Dusty’s junkyard. Bridging the gap of space between South Dakota and Cleveland.

The relic had worked quite well. Unlike Kevin’s legs, now.

He stumbled forth, coming to a halt against a pillar in the dusty, damp room. He slumped against it and slid down until he remained sitting on the ground, once more gripping the injury where his stomach should be. The blood continued pumping out from there, hot and crimson and sticky. And heralding doom.

He sighed and even that hurt, causing hellfire to ripple through his body from the injury.

Eat shit, Dusty, he thought to himself.

He had retrieved the artifact. But at what price? Everything had a price.

The statuette could do the trick in finding Kim, but that hinged on him surviving this now.

Too bad, though. The blood just continued to pump, like it had waited for this very day to escape his sorry skin. The pain overwhelmed him.

He slipped out of consciousness.

Without any hope of opening his eyes to see another day.

—Submitted by Wratts

[gyromitra-esculenta]

FPS action hero mood. Rereading on break, and I don’t think I’ll get anything better ever ever.

Down the corridor, in the gloom, something shuffles and howls.

“Run,” the Beast orders and Jack obeys. The creature follows, the meaty thuds of bare flesh on polished floors marking its impending progress with obscene slapping behind him. “Left.”

He dashes accordingly along the wall, the thing behind him closer and closer, its ragged breath joining his own in unison. Jack grips over his shoulder for the rifle and feels a momentary panic bubbling up when the shape is just wrong in his hands.

“Right now, Sunshine.”A shotgun. He checks the chamber, loaded, and then looks up, the creature just steps away from him. Dead end, reinforced door bolted shut. Too little space to maneuver. On the side, there are slanted windows behind a metal railing, angled like an observation dome. One is broken, jagged splinters glinting with each sway of his head.

Jack feels joints in his leg crunch with violent protest when in the middle of the run he plants the foot forcefully on the ground and then launches himself to the side, turning in the air, right through the hole. One of the crystalline edges grazes his arm leaving angry pain in its wake.

The creature rounds the turn and leaps after him. He fires falling. Its head bucks back, bits and pieces of flesh and bone flying to the side and up, the muscles tense for a fraction of a second and then it goes flaccid.

He hits something with his back hard enough to drive the air from his lungs and tumbles to the ground gracelessly. The monstrosity lands halfway between his legs with a wet meaty squelch, one hand on his shin, and he kicks it off. It’s vaguely human, emaciated – ribs visible under taut skin, arms strangely long and fingers curled like claws. Jack inhales slowly. Doesn’t feel like anything broken, the pain in his spine blunted to a dull ache, not a hot point of suffering it was immediately after the impact.

There are charts and screens all over the room, several of them still working, information displayed demanding immediate attention judging by blinking red. Something sparks above. A wet drop hits his cheek and Jack wipes it off with fingers, sticky substance slightly brighter than the blood already on his hands.

Slowly, he lifts himself off the ground. An operating theatre. He knows instinctively he doesn’t want to turn around. The edge of the stainless steel table digs into his back, aggravating the already forming bruise. His hands are trembling, lax on the shotgun.

Then, with a low growl, something tackles him from the side, and he slides on the broken glass, twisting, bringing the gun up braced sideways in both arms to serve as a guard as teeth crack together audibly in front of his eyes.

It’s the same type of creature, but now Jack can see all the different details. Its face is bloodied, the lips and eyelids are cut or torn off. It snarls clawing for his face and he bucks under it kicking, left hand reaching for its neck and the dark sludge surges upwards like a gravity-defying trickling stream of oil from under his cuff. The creature howls flinching back when it touches its bared skin.

It was – it is – human, Jack realizes. And if there is one thing Jack knows, it is that killing humans is easy.

His right hand goes for the knife and he stabs the blade under its chin, then twists it to the side and drags it down through its trachea. Hot blood pours on his face as it convulses over him and Jack casts it off to the side with a jerk, then crawls to a safe distance away.

It stills soon. The glass crunches under his soles when he comes closer to admire his work.

[lesslight]

chickenwire glass windows

meantime at the hospital Jack is talking to Jill roaming the halls back forth racing a stainless steel cart. OH SHIT

fooled you this is a small room with no table or chairs. over there in the corner is Susan.

Susan is wearing a dress with deep pockets on either side. in one of the pockets she keeps a bolt of lightning. the other deep pocket she could hide in

if ever attacked by bats. why doesn’t this room have any chairs? a table? oh my look this room has bats! Susan crawled into her deep pocket.  

                                   the room is now empty. you could move in, there are no tables or chairs. the room does have bats though.

[loveabsgroup]

How can I keep my fastening tools durable and long-lasting

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Several Fastening tools detail a few additional methods in which the longevity & durability of stainless steel fasteners can be improved.

Tips for maintaining the strength and longevity of fastening tools -

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Make sure your instrument is clean

It is vital to clean nuts, bolting tools, as well as other fasteners made of stainless steel on a daily basis in order to prevent dust from settling on the surface. Layers of tiny particles that are present on fasteners can cause damage to the steel's moisture-protective layer, which leaves the steel more vulnerable to deterioration & corrosion. 

Standard grades of stainless steel:  The grades of bolt tensioners are considered to be the superior options for fasteners. They are the grades of fasteners that are utilized the majority of time. Although they are more expensive than other grades that are currently on the market, they are more cost-effective in the long term due to the fact that they have a longer lifespan.

Go cordless 

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Electrochemical polishing 

Electrochemical polishing is an option to consider if you would like to extend the lifespan of your fasteners for a longer duration of time. This technique removes all traces of dirt and other impurities from the surface layer, which helps to maintain its original qualities. The electrochemical polishing process is fantastic for a wide variety of instruments & implements made of stainless steel.

Maintain the ailments of the jaws & mandrels 

It is essential that you carefully consider both the types of stainless steel and also the grade of the fastener that you will be utilizing in your business. Always make sure you order grades 304 & 316 for the best resistance to rust & corrosion. Whereas these grades are costlier than others, there is a possibility that, in the long term, your business will find it cost effective.

Regular base maintenance 

Any construction must have fasteners, and keeping those fasteners in good working order is of vital importance. In order to prevent wear & tear, the threads and any other components need to be inspected on a regular basis. It is essential to keep in mind that ignoring normal wear & tear can, in the long term, result in problems that cannot be repaired. Therefore, setting up a monitoring method at set intervals will help you save money, preserve the structural stability of your building, and lengthen the amount of time your fasteners will last.

Conclusion 

Fasteners made of stainless steel are, without a doubt, the solution that offers the best value for the money for your project since they are corrosion resistant and have a long lifespan. However, as is common knowledge, with time they might rust, and then you might have to incur cost to repair or replace them. So to ensure your fastening tools, which are critical in a number of industrial set-ups, are in great working order. Always get them from leading manufacturers who do not compromise on quality at any cost. Also, the most named tool manufacturers and installers will take care of their timely investigation and maintenance.

Content Sources :- ABSGroup

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 10

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Torture. 

A/N: It is totally reasonable that you guys probably hate me. It has been forever since I updated Hopefully this makes up for it a little bit. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

I am in pain.

And not the “I went a little hard during training yesterday and I am really feeling it today” kind of pain.

No. This is the “I have been tied down to a metal slab for god knows how fucking long, and I have people constantly cutting me and burning me and pushing my bones to the point of breaking,” kind of pain. This is the “I kind of wish that they would just kill me already,” kind of pain. This is the “I can’t believe that my body hasn’t given out yet,” kind of pain. That is the type of life that I am living right now. This is the “I wish I could just tell them what they want they know so that the pain can end” kind of pain.

But I know that I cannot do that. I cannot tell them what they want because that would mean that I would have to tell him about Bucky and that will never happen. It will never happen. I would rather let myself die than to give them the information that is needed to make Bucky the crazy super soldier that they want him to be. It is a life that I don’t want him to live and I will do anything to protect him from that. Anything. Even if it means dying. I have to protect him.

The machine that he has attached to my head keeps the jolts of electricity bursting through me every few seconds though my body has gotten used to the little jolts of pain. They remind me that I can still feel things. That I haven’t become completely numb to his tactics. I don’t know what would happen if I did.

“Good Morning Miss!” he says as he enters the room and I can feel my entire body stiffen at the sound. This is the boss man. The man that came in and told me that he was going to torture me until I told him exactly what he wanted to know. We haven’t spoken much since I got here, but maybe that is because he keeps shoving knives into me. I don’t know, just maybe. “Are we going to talk today?” he says as he leans over me.

I have noticed in my time here, however long that has been, that this man is not from this time. He talks like he is from a different century and the way he holds himself is the same way that I see Bucky and Cap hold themselves: like they were pulled out of time and don’t know how to act in this new era.

I have also learned that Dr. Orlov is a Russian scientist/doctor and has extensive knowledge of the human body. Especially all of its weak points. I have gained that knowledge through person experience. He seems to enjoy cutting me open.

“Look at you. So beautiful,” he laughs and I feel him swipe a finger over my cheek, causing it to sting from the multiple bruises and cuts that rest of my face already. I want to spit at him. I know I look like shit. I haven’t showered in forever, there is dried blood all over me, and bruises are my new foundation color. Some are yellow, some are brown, and the newer ones are a dark dark purple that hurt like a bitch every time that he touches me. More like punches me.

“I am not going to tell you what you want to know, so fuck off,” this time I do spit at him but he quickly dodges it and laughs at me. A deep and booming laugh that sends a shiver up my spine. But not in the good way. Definitely not in the good way.

“Y’know, you are a lot more stubborn than the woman in my days,” he smiles at me and steps away from me and to the other side of the room where his table of toys is waiting. I try to pull at the restraints, once again, and once again there is no way that I am going to escape from them. They are stainless steel and bolted to the concrete floor.

My mind is strong. My body is not.

“I don’t care about your stupid monologue,” I sneer back at him and I watch a he picks up a knife that is easily bigger than my forearm and turns back around to face me. The fear shoots through my body and I don’t even want to think about what he is going to do with that knife.

“Really? But don’t you wanna know who I am? Where I came from? How I know about your precious James Barnes?” the way he says Bucky’s name is a direct taunt to me and it makes me struggle against the restraints again.

“Fuck you!”

“A little touchy now aren’t we? Did I hit a soft spot?” and at the same time he says that, he slips the knife into the soft part of my flesh at the bottom of my stomach. I scream out in pain and he just digs the knife in a little farther before he pulls it out and a rush of relief floods through me before the searing pain sinks in.

“Fuck you,” is all I can say back to him and he smiles again. Digs the knife in again. Pulls it back out slowly.

“Let’s tell you the story anyway. The story of a young doctor working for the Russians. They had brought in this boy from the mountains. Badly bleeding. His arm was mangled and had to be amputated immediately,” I let the tears roll down my body as he looks over the blood covered knife then stares back at me. “We were thinking about letting him die but we obviously found a much more suitable position for our Mr. Barnes. I wasn’t the lead doctor on the project but I was the one that they decided to put under to make sure that everything went well with our asset in the future,” his words cause me to pause and to look at him. He has a smug smile on his face that tells me that he is enjoying this interaction very much.

“Put under?” I stammer out, and I watch his eyes alight with a flame before he wipes the blood from my stomach on my dirty and torn t-shirt and sets it back down in its initial resting spot.

“Surely you know what put under means. Barnes went through it as well as Mr. America. Though, Rodgers wasn’t intentional like Mr. Barnes was,” he picks up a pair of pliers that have already caused me enough pain and fidgets with them a bit before coming back over to stand above me. “I guess timelines got a little messed up because they pulled Barnes out a lot faster than they did me,” he grabs one of my fingers within the pliers and begins to add light pressure to it with every few seconds that passes. “You can imagine my surprise when I wake up to find out that no in this era knows anything about the asset that I had helped to create,” more pressure and more pain.

That’s how he remembers Bucky. Because he wasn’t technically alive when I went in and erased everyone’s memories,

“But that doesn’t explain how you knew about-“ I cut myself off with an ear piercing scream that comes out of me when he closes the pliers all of the way and I can feel the bones in my fingers being crushed. The pain radiates throughout my whole body and it send black spots into my vision.

“How I knew about what? About you? Well, you Avengers aren’t the only ones that have powers in the world. One of my men, a true genius, has a photographic memory. And he distinctly remembers a girl that looks just like you prancing around his memory. He cant remember what you took from him, the knowledge that he had, but I guess you forgot to erase yourself from his memory before you left,” he moves onto the next finger and repeats the same torturous action with my left middle finger. I scream again as he shatters the finger and he laughs. “You gonna talk now?”

“Never,” I mumble, taking deep breaths to try and calm my heart down. The electricity is still running through my head and the tears that are streaming down my face blur my vision. I can only see the basic outline of the man that is slowly killing me.

“You do know that I am not opposed to breaking every bone in your body to get what I want, right?” he moves onto my ring finger and puts my finger between the pliers.

“Fuck you,” I spit at him again and this time, my blood colored saliva hits him directly in the face. I can feel myself smile a bloody smile that hurts like a bitch.

And that is when the pliers slam shut and the searing pain floods through me and I finally go black.

~

Bucky’s POV:

“What if this has nothing to do with the enemies of Shield and the Avengers? What if it is more specific than that?” Bruce says as we are sitting back in the conference room for the umpteenth time in the past 2 and a half weeks. 2 and a half weeks od Y/N being gone and none of us are any closer to finding her. For all any of us know, she could be dead already.

“what do you mean?” Cap sits forward a little bit and I can see that he looks just as tired as everyone else does in this situation. People working as much as they can to bring Y/N back.

“Well, think about it? What does someone want with Y/N? She isn’t a true part of the Avengers. Has never been out on a proper mission with the team. Her whole job was to take care of Bucky. To bring him back from that state And then it just so happens that she gains someone’s attention after she has pulled all memories of Bucky from everyone? That doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me,”

“But no one on the planet remembers Bucky. It would have different if they had come after her before she took all of their memories away. Unless someone from Bucky’s past suddenly arose from the dead, I don’t think that it has anything to do with him,” Romanoff gives me a sympathetic smile that I don’t return. Everyone knows that I am not handling this well.

Suddenly an idea pops into my head and I sit up in the chair. Everyone suddenly stops talking and all eyes turn to me.

“What if they didn’t arise from the dead? What if they dethawed?” I am searching through all of my memories. Who was that man that they put me under with? Their was a little doctor that said that he would be more than happy to wake up in the future and make sure that everything worked out fine..

I pull myself through all of my old memories. And then I get his head stuck in my head.

Dr. Orlov.

Nice to see you again.

Taglist: 

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl @jemjem-chan @rachelmc97 @fesslasuisse @vvonder-lands @ran-randomness  @zohoffman  @geeksareunique  @m4df4n

[carkeyssydney12]

Car locksmith Coogee

Car locksmith coogee is a relatively new industry in Australia. It was introduced as an alternative to the traditional way of locking car doors. It allows you to lock your car from inside using a simple remote control. . The Aussie authorities have made strong efforts to discourage car burglary by introducing a range of laws and regulations to protect owners from accidental lock outs. Car locksmiths are required to install a jack for the purpose of unlocking vehicles. What does the law say about car keys?It is illegal for any person in NSW, or anywhere else in Australia, to take a "car key" with them into a job interview or on any public transport. It's also illegal to give the keys to anyone else in a business establishment, including an employee of the employer.The key is usually made of plastic but may be made of metal, such as titanium or stainless steel. The law says that it must be either "locked and bolted," meaning that it can be locked and unlocked by a key only; or it must be "locked and unlocked," meaning that keys may be used to unlock the lock.

Car locksmith coogee is a relatively new industry in Singapore. This car door lock was introduced as an alternative to the traditional way of locking a car door using keys. It allows you to lock your car while away from home. or office.Coogee Lock Company prides itself on offering exceptional customer service and a friendly, clean and professional environment (at the same time).

In case of a car lock, the key is lost, the owner needs to find it. The car locksmith coogee is an AI-based system that can help with this. The AI works by analysing the scene and using its data to generate a suitable image for the keys. It sends it to the owner and asks for confirmation before unlocking it.

The car lockmith coogee is a popular occupation in the city of Coogee, Australia. It has been around for decades and is still going strong. However, with the introduction of newer technology like smart phones, GPS systems, and other new gadgets, it has become a little more difficult to keep up.

The City of Coogee, Australia has welcomed a new technology that will make the car lockmiths job more attractive. This new technology is called smar TCB and it is a smart device that can help the car lockmith to do his job more efficiently.This device is able to identify the keys so that it can generate an alarm if someone tries to enter the vehicle without having a key. The smarTCB device will also react when there are suspicious people around and block them from parking in front of vehicles .

[carsai-precisionparts]

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[n2stech-blr]

TOP 5 SELLING PRODUCTS – INJECTION MACHINE COMPONENTS

N2S Technologies supplies the injection components for the plastic processing industries. One of the top industries for supplying the injection molding component is N2S Technologies. There are a large number of injection components selling at a higher rate. Among them, I would like to list the top 5 selling products of injection components from N2S Technologies Pvt., Ltd.

Top 5 Selling Products of Injection Components are,

Hopper Dryer

Hopper Loader

Linear Scale

Mold Clamp

IMM Controller

1. HOPPER DRYER

Hopper Dryer is the Topmost selling Injection Components of N2S. The requirement of the hopper dryer is high because of its characteristics. There are various models available in this hopper loader with the best competitive price. Order Online @IndiaMart for cool deals.

Features of Hopper Dryer

Removes the moisture content from the materials

Preheats the plastic materials & hence the pellets have particular temperature

User defines the Heating Temperature values

2. HOPPER LOADER

The second most selling injection component is a hopper loader. It loads the plastic pellets from the trash or bin to the loader for the injection molding process. It is a unit of plastic injection molding machines. Therefore, the highly required two types of loaders are a standard self-contained hopper loader and a standard separate vacuum hopper loader. Order Online now @ IndiaMart.

Features of Hopper Loader

Loads the materials from the maximum distance of 4m

Loading unit of the loader is made up of stainless steel

Available for both 1Φ & 3Φ power supply

Integrated with carbon brush motor

3. LINEAR SCALE

The linear scale is one of the top 5 selling products, which fixes the injection molding parts’ distance. Two types of linear scales available with different models according to the molds’ sizes to be furnished. Types of linear scale: Linear scale rod type and slide type. Then the linear scale determines the distance easily with the help of a linear scale. Therefore, the linear scale can be enlarged and reduced in the same ratio according to the customer requirement based on the product outcome module. Order online…

Features of Linear Scale

Available in various sizes based on size ranges from 25mm to 800mm

Strong temperature stability

High precision in order to attain proper output

4. MOULD CLAMP

Mold clamp – IMM component ensures quick completion of the parts by adjusting the clamps that do not require spacer blocks or the jacking screws for adjusting the thickness of the mold plate. Hence, the design of the product is highly durable. The material of the mould clamp is hard steel. Hence, it makes the product highly durable.

Features of Mold Clamp

Bought in a complete package (T-nut & threaded bolt) & the installation made easy

Higher rate of precision

Highly durable & resistant to corrosion

5. IMM CONTROLLER

IMM is a controlling unit that is specially developed for the automation of plastic injection moulding machines. In order to provide an interface between the machine and the user, the machine requires HMI (Human Machine Interface).

Features of IMM Controller

PLC Controller for injection moulding machine stores 120 mold data

Horizontal & vertical controllers are available

All the machine’s data and operations are controlled using the IMM controller

Hence, these are the top 5 selling products of injection components from N2S Technologies. It is one of the best plastic injection molding machine component suppliers in India. N2S also supplies many other injection components such as crusher, pumps, sprue picker robots, servo system, smart meter, lubrication oil pumps, etc.

[save-jacksepticeye]

Chase

A/N: Full-length piece I wrote for the septicart event. I’ll try to do a couple more egos before it’s over, but I don’t think I can get to all of them.

Warning: Mentions of suicide.

It had been a few weeks since the incident, and as Chase lay in his hospital bed, he found he still felt the same. He missed his children, he missed Stacey. Her rejection had hurt him in a way he had never thought possible, like a knife twisting in his heart and draining his life of meaning. It was so painful, and he had thought nothing but death could possibly release him from the pain. Even now it sent a pang through his heart to think of all that had happened. Not to mention what he had done to all those people…

A soft knock at the door to his room brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up listlessly as Dr. Schneeplestein entered the room, a mess of papers in one hand, and a mug of what Chase assumed to be coffee in the other. As usual, his hair was a mess underneath his cap, and his mask hung around his neck. His coat swished around him, and there was what looked like a large coffee stain on the collar.

For a minute, there was no sound other than the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the shuffle of papers, and the soft sound of Schneeplestein muttering under his breath as he went about his business. When he was done organizing his papers, he came up to the bed and began fiddling with the drip attached to his IV.

“How are you feeling today, Chase?” Schneeplestein asked him. His voice was gentle and caring, unlike the professional tone he used with his other patients. Not that Schneep got a lot of other patients. After all, he wasn’t technically a real doctor, but no one had the heart to tell him otherwise. He had saved Chase’s life, after all, not to mention Jack’s.

Chase noticed Schneeplestein was watching him intently, awaiting a response. “Huh? Oh, better, I guess.” He didn’t meet Schneep’s eyes, even as his voice came out raspy and weak.

“Vhat about your headaches?” He checked the IV needle in Chase’s hand.

“Still bad,” Chase answered as Schneep unwound the bandages on his head, poking and prodding lightly at the wound on the side of his head. He flinched as Schneep’s fingers brushed the wound, but forced himself to relax when he saw the pained look on his friend’s face. “So, uh…” He didn’t know what he could say. Suddenly, guilt rose in his throat like bile and he felt hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Schneeplestein put a hand on his shoulder. “Chase, ve are here for you. Vhat you did does not matter, what matters now is zhat you are here vith us, and zhat you are safe.” Schneep took a seat beside him on the bed. With gentle hands, Schneep wrapped his head with fresh bandages, and they sat in silence for a minute. Finally, Schneep broke the silence. “I vas going to save zhis until you vere a bit better, but I feel like you need it now more zhan ever.”

He rose to his feet and rummaged through the cupboards above the stainless steel sink on the far side of the room. After a minute of searching, he let out an exclamation of triumph, took a long draught of coffee, and returned to Chase’s side. He was holding a wrapped box in his hands.

There was another knock at the door. Schneep set the present at Chase’s feet, irritation crossing his features. “Vhat now? One moment, my friend,” he said to Chase, pushing his glasses back into place. He went to the door and opened it a crack, peering out. Chase watched, wondering who would want to visit him.

There was a minute of quiet conversation between Schneeplestein and whoever was on the other side of the door, too quiet for Chase to eavesdrop. He shifted a little in his bed, wincing as a lightning bolt of pain shot through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and carefully massaged his temples like Schneeplestein had showed him.

When he opened his eyes, there were three more people in the room with them. He started, and he felt the guilt make a comeback, twisting his insides painfully. How could he face them after what he had done? He had barely been able to talk to Schneeplestein the first time he had woken up. But this was so much worse. They were all there, all watching, all judging. He couldn’t meet their eyes.

“Hey, Chase.” That was Marvin, his cape askew and his unkempt hair spilling out around the edges of his cat mask. Always there, always supportive, even when he wasn’t the one performing. Had he been there that day? Chase couldn’t remember for sure, but he had the feeling that he was.

Standing on Marvin’s left was Jackieboy Man, his red suit wrinkled and a hint of dark circles peering out from behind the mask. The hero, the one who always did his best to keep everyone safe. Chase didn’t know it, but Jackieboy Man had been spending every second of his spare time right outside the door, anxiously awaiting any news of his friend’s condition. What had he thought, Chase wondered, when he failed to stop me?

The tears were back, threatening to escape. He still could not bring himself to meet their gazes. Why had he done that? Why had he tormented them like that? What was Stacey going to think? What was she going to tell the kids? Finally, Chase gave in and let his emotions spill over.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” He put his face in his hands, shame making him sob even harder. God, why had he done that? Why had he been so selfish? Why had he done all those horrible things? Did he even deserve their forgiveness?

No, Chase thought, No I don’t. Another stab of pain flashed through his head, this one much worse than the last, and he bent double, his sobs giving way to gasps of pain as the stab turned into a steady throbbing, like a jackhammer was going to work on his skull. The pain was almost unbearable and he was overcome with the urge to bash at his head until it all faded away. He raised his fist and prepared to swing.

A weight settled on either side of him, and he felt a firm grip on his arm. There were whispers in his ears, trying to tell him he would be alright. He refused to open his eyes; the pain was too intense, and the light would only make it worse. Nevertheless, he could see them there, Jackieboy Man holding him back, Marvin muttering calming words, Schneeplestein standing there, the gift in his hands. Soon, the pain faded, and he cried himself dry in their arms.

Finally, he was able to open his eyes again. There they were, just as he had imagined, the concern in their eyes mingled with relief, and he met their gazes with bloodshot eyes. The guilt was still there, the shame still made him want to melt into the floor, but that wouldn’t matter, not if they could forgive him, help him make it all okay again.

“What can I do to make it right?” he asked hoarsely, his voice dry and cracking from his crying.

Jackieboy Man gazed at him from behind his blue mask. “For now, the best you can do is rest up and get better.” He paused and looked to the others for reassurance. Marvin nodded slightly. “You have a long road ahead of you, Chase, I won’t lie. It may take a while, but I believe that with time, you will find your own way to redemption.”

“Just remember that we’re there for you, Chase, every step of the way,” Marvin said. “We are your family, and we love you. We don’t want to see you hurt like that again, ever.” Marvin’s eyes glistened behind his mask and he gulped hard. He gave Schneep a meaningful look.

“Oh! Yes, zhe gift.” He came forward and set the gift in Chase’s lap. Chase stared at it for a second, eyes tracing the golden stripes on the wrapping. “Ve got zhis for you, vith a little help from Jack,” Schneeplestein said.

Chase tore the wrapping paper away, hands shaking slightly, and gingerly took the lid off the Sketcher’s shoebox they had used for a container. He teared up again at the sight of what lay inside the box, and for a moment he was speechless. He held the objects in his hands as if they would crumble to dust at the slightest movement.

“I…I don’t know what to say.” He looked between the three of them, unable to express his gratitude. Then, Schneeplestein handed him a letter. Chase placed the objects gingerly back into their shoebox and took it from him. His eyes were drawn to the scrawled writing on the envelope.

To Chase.

His breath hitched in his throat. It was Stacey’s handwriting.

“Read it,” Schneeplestein urged. Hesitantly, Chase tore open the envelope.

Dear Chase, 

I’m so sorry it had to come to this. I had no idea what I was doing, and I wanted to apologize. But it doesn’t change anything. I still love you, Chase, but I believe that we can’t be together, especially after what you did. Your friends have told me that you’re better now, but it doesn’t change what you did, or what you’ll have to do to make it right. 

I’m taking the kids, Chase, but if you can prove yourself, maybe I can let you have visitation. I’m only offering you this chance because I know how much you regret what you did, and I believe you are punishing yourself far more than I or the courts would ever be able to do. 

Like I said, this doesn’t change anything. But I just wanted you to know that if you can redeem yourself, I won’t keep the kids away from you. I’ve kept all of this from them, so they don’t know anything. Just, please get better, and don’t blow this chance. I believe you can do this, but you need to put in an effort.

Sincerely,  Stacey

Chase looked up at the others, the letter clutched close to his chest. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, “I don’t deserve her forgiveness.”

“Chase,” Marvin said, “Everyone deserves forgiveness.”

Chase looked away. “Thank you, all of you. I think I know what I need to do now. But first, I think I’d like to sleep for a little bit.” Schneeplestein nodded, evidently agreeing, and he shooed everyone out of the room before checking his vitals one last time and disappearing himself.

Left alone, Chase pondered all that had happened, and looked forward, planning his coming days. He may not deserve it, but he was going to hope, and he was going to try, if not for himself, then for them, his family, his children. With that, he sank into a deep sleep, and for the first time in a long time, there were no nightmares to wake him.