#truck dispatching course

[free-resources]

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[truxsolutionsinc]

TruxSolutions Dispatcher Course in Brampton: Master Trucking Logistics"

TruxSolutions Dispatcher Course Brampton provides essential training for those ready to excel in the trucking industry. This comprehensive course covers key areas such as fleet coordination, load planning, route optimization, and regulatory compliance, taught by seasoned dispatch professionals. Gain hands-on skills to handle real-world logistics challenges, streamline operations, and communicate effectively with drivers and clients. Ideal for individuals aiming to advance in transportation logistics, this course prepares you for a successful and impactful dispatcher career.

[truxsolutions]

Safety compliance is paramount in the trucking industry, ensuring the well-being of drivers, cargo, and the general public. At Trux Solutions, we understand the importance of maintaining high safety and compliance standards. We provide a comprehensive guide to safety compliance and audits for trucking companies, offering valuable insights and strategies to help you navigate the complex regulatory landscape effectively.

[avaaltechnologysolutions]

Becoming a successful truck dispatcher is a promising career path in the trucking and logistics industry. Truck dispatcher courses equip you with the skills and knowledge needed to navigate this dynamic field. If you're in California and seeking a "truck dispatcher course", you've come to the right place. This comprehensive guide will walk you through the importance of truck dispatch training and how to find the best truck dispatcher training online.

What is a Truck Dispatcher Course?

A Truck Dispatcher Course is a specialized training program that equips students with the knowledge and skills necessary to coordinate and manage the transportation of goods. It covers essential aspects of the trucking business, including load planning, route management, negotiation tactics, and the use of dispatch software.

Who Should Take a Truck Dispatcher Course?

1. Aspiring dispatchers: If you're interested in starting a career in the trucking industry, a truck dispatcher course can provide you with the necessary skills and knowledge to succeed.

2. Owner-operators: For those who own their trucking business, a dispatcher course can equip you with the skills to manage your operations more efficiently.

3. Existing dispatchers: If you're already a dispatcher and looking to enhance your skills or stay updated with the latest industry trends, a dispatcher course can be beneficial.

Key Skills Learned in a Truck Dispatcher Course

Load Acquisition & Matching

One of the primary responsibilities of a truck dispatcher is to find suitable loads for carriers and ensure that no truck travels a long distance without a load. A good dispatcher course will teach you how to effectively use online load matching systems and software to achieve this.

Specialized Freight Handling

Dispatchers should know how to handle specialized freight that requires specific equipment or permits. A comprehensive dispatcher course will provide you with the information and techniques necessary to manage such loads effectively.

Route Management

Efficient route planning is a critical aspect of the dispatcher's job. It involves choosing the most cost-effective routes that ensure timely delivery of loads. An excellent dispatcher course will cover this aspect in detail.

Understanding Trucking Market

A good dispatcher should understand the dynamics of the trucking market, including market analysis, identifying opportunities, and making informed decisions.

Excellent Customer Service

Dispatchers are the point of contact between drivers, brokers, and shippers. Therefore, they must have excellent communication skills and provide top-notch customer service.

Knowledge on Paperwork’s

A truck dispatcher should also be well-versed in the various paperwork involved in dispatching, such as broker-carrier setup, Bill of Lading (BOL), and rate confirmation.

Providing High RPM Loads

The earnings of a truck driver are directly proportional to the Rate Per Mile (RPM) of the loads they haul. A truck dispatcher should be skilled in negotiating with brokers to secure high RPM loads for their drivers.

Truck Dispatcher Training at Avaal Technology

Avaal Technology offers one of the best truck dispatcher courses in California. Their program is designed to provide practical and effective training, informed by the insights of the industry's top dispatchers. Whether you're just starting or looking to take your career to the next level, Avaal's expert-led truck dispatcher course can help you succeed.

Features of Avaal's Dispatcher Course

1. Practical Training: Avaal provides hands-on training with real loads. This approach enables you to gain practical experience in communicating with brokers and drivers.

2. Expert Instruction: Avaal's instructors are industry experts with years of experience in logistics and transportation. They provide personalized guidance and mentorship to each student.

3. Learning Resources: Avaal provides a wealth of learning resources, including on-demand video lessons, downloadable materials, and access to top logistics software.

4. Job Placement Assistance: Upon completion of the course, Avaal assists its students in finding suitable job opportunities in the trucking industry.

How to Enroll in a Truck Dispatcher Course

Enrolling in a truck dispatcher course is a straightforward process. You can visit the training provider's website, explore their course offerings, and choose the one that suits your needs. Most providers offer online enrollment options, making it easy and convenient for students to sign up.

Conclusion

If you're in California and looking for a "truck dispatcher course ", Avaal Technology is a great option to consider. Their comprehensive truck dispatch training will equip you with the skills and knowledge necessary to succeed in this dynamic field. With the right training, you can become a proficient truck dispatcher, ready to take on the challenges of the trucking industry.

Remember, the best truck dispatcher training should offer practical training, expert instruction, abundant learning resources, and job placement assistance. So, take the time to research and choose a course that best fits your career goals and learning style.

Ready to kick-start your career as a truck dispatcher? Enroll in a truck dispatcher course today and take the first step towards a rewarding career in the trucking industry!

Checkout Our Courses: -

Trucking Safety & Compliance Training -https://avaal.com/education-safety-compliance.php

Transportation of Dangerous Goods Training -https://avaal.com/education-dangerous-goods.php

Hours of Service Training (HOS) -https://avaal.com/education-hos-logbook.php

Freight Forwarding Specialist Fast Track -https://avaal.com/freight-forwarding.php

Checkout Our Software:

AVAAL Freight Management Suite (Cloud based TMS)- https://avaal.com/avaal-freight-management.php

AVAAL Express Dispatch (Desktop based TMS) -https://avaal.com/emanifest.php

ACE/ACI eManifest - https://avaal.com/avaal-express.php

Checkout Our Consulting Services-

Corporate Branding -https://avaal.com/corporate-branding.php

Trucking Authorities & Permits -https://avaal.com/authorities.php

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[thebossdispatchingacademy]

Dispatcher Course Online

Now empower yourself with Dispatcher course online to find business opportunities in dispatching services. Simply connect your clients to their needs and earn a great revenue with truck dispatching. Boss Dispatching Academy brings you a comprehensive and easy to learn online course.

[babbushka]

Death At The Dive Bar

Flip Zimmerman X F!Reader

Inspired by this request, some weird twilight-zone occult occurrences happen to happen to our favorite detective. 3.4k, NSFW

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It’s always the same -- a scream, a crash, broken glass bloodied on the floor. A gunshot maybe, or maybe not. In the dead of night, acts of violence hiding beneath a cloak of darkness. 

It’s always the same -- a 911 call, frantic panicked voices demanding someone come down from the station, someone please help, before it’s too late, even though the very act of them picking up the phone means it’s already done. 

It’s always the same -- until it isn't. And on a dark and stormy summer night in the thick of the Rocky Mountains, a tiny dive bar calls the nearest police dispatcher, and calmly requests to speak to one Detective Flip Zimmerman of Colorado Springs. 

Flip had been in the area when he got the call over the radio, wandering around, scoping out the woods. He knew at once where it was, had heard stories of the place of course, way back in the day when he still wore the weight of the war like a thick leather jacket around his shoulders. When he pulls up in his Chevy it looks exactly the same as it always had been described: run down, small, with a buzzing neon sign proudly proclaiming The Mile High Tavern as the best place to grab a Coors within 50 miles. Nevermind that it was the only place. 

He sits in his truck and glares at the bar. Popular with passers-through along winding scenic roads and most frequented by motorcyclists seeking shelter from the rain, he wonders (not for the first time this week) what the hell he’s getting himself into. The note from the dispatcher had been vague -- a lady was askin’ for him specifically, and he was supposed to find out why. Things like this didn’t bode well for him, usually. 

Especially not lately, not with the way his last relationship flopped. He had tried to explain to the nice woman that his job took up a lot of his time -- had hoped that her big city job had given her a different perspective, but she didn’t seem to think his work hours applied to her. That had been three months ago that she left him, and he was still sore from it. 

No, a woman asking for him directly was the last thing Flip wanted to get himself tangled up in, regardless of the reason. 

Despite the rain, there isn’t the usual line of motorcycles out front. In fact, there was only one car to be seen, an oldie -- something chrome plated and pink, but he can’t really tell in the rainy darkness. The Mile High Tavern appeared for all intents and purposes to be empty, and so Flip takes one last drag of his cigarette, makes sure his gun is loaded and in its holster, and with a sigh of resignation steps into the downpour. 

“Let me get you something nice and warm,” A friendly voice calls over to him from the counter when Flip steps over the threshold, your back turned to him. All at once, Flip’s heart begins to pound. Something about this place felt odd to him, an uneasy feeling that shifted his stomach around. He took another step closer and you continued, “I’m afraid the only hot thing we’ve got tonight is coffee.” 

“Coffee’d be just fine, thank you.” Flip nods with gratitude, before sitting at the bar. Looking around, he notes how quaint the little place is. It’s neat and clean and warm, and he confirms that you are the only person in here. He wonders if you’ve been alone long, and frowns. “I’m sorry - I’m Detective Zimmerman, someone here rang for me?” 

“I’d be that someone, yes.” You slide him a cup of black coffee down the counter that you lean against with a smile. It is dazzling, bright in the dark light of the dive bar. “Thank you for coming out here, I appreciate how quick you were.” 

Well shit, Flip grimaces into his mug, now he feels like an asshole for sitting in the truck debating when, or if, he should brave the rain to head inside. 

You smile at him like you knew he was out there biding his time, a teasing smile that lets him know you’re not mad, even though you could be. It wasn’t professional for a law officer to keep someone waiting like that. 

“What seems to be the trouble?” He doesn’t bring up the fact that they’re alone. 

It was dangerous these days, with all the murders in the woods lately. Women being slaughtered left and right by what Flip is certain is a serial killer, but no one will take him seriously enough about it to do anything. Not without more evidence. 

“Do you..” You pause, as if you’re trying to find the words. No, that’s not it, as if you’re having a hard time spitting them out, like something is preventing you. “May I sit next to you?” 

You look at him with expectation and hope, and he stares into your eyes, searching for what the hell brought him all the way out here on his night shift. The clock strikes three in the morning. 

He doesn’t notice himself nodding with allowance, until you’re walking around the counter and getting close to him. Even though it’s warm in the bar, your hands are cold. 

“Thank you,” You breathe, getting close to him. Not so close that you’re touching, but close enough that he could brush against your shoulder with his own. “I don’t usually work alone, but tonight the other server is sick, and with the storm we aren’t expecting too many people, so here I am. There was something out there.” 

You stare directly into his eyes, and he’s almost taken aback by the seriousness and bluntness of your voice. Your voice is hypnotic almost, the edges of your words fuzzy and sharp at the same time, an impossible combination that has his palms sweating. He wonders for a brief moment if you slipped something into his coffee, but the thought leaves him as soon as it arrives.

“What sort of something?” He finds himself asking quietly, not wanting whatever it is to overhear. He thinks back to the past few weeks, the broken in-houses, the tape on the floor, the screams of agony. Flip sets his jaw and leans in close, looks deep into your wide open eyes, pupils huge in the dark. 

“A figure, on the other side of the window. I saw it in the lightning, I saw its eyes. I think it’s a man. I’m scared.” You whisper, lowering your voice to match his pitch. 

“I can escort you home -- ” He goes to get up, a rush of protective energy flowing through him, scraping the bar stool against the wooden floor, the sound so so so loud in the quiet of the bar, but your hand is gripping his arm the second he gets up.

“No!” Your voice is too sharp again, dark around the edges, and Flip looks down and sees panic in your eyes. He softens immediately, and even though he’s not supposed to, even though it’s unprofessional, even though you’re a stranger, he pulls you into a hug for some comfort. You throw your arms around him in return, and he’s not certain who is comforting whom. “No -- I -- I don’t want it to know where I live, if it follows us. I was hoping you could keep me company.” 

Your face is pressed into his chest, and for the first time in a long time, he feels complete, he feels like he’s never ever going to let go. He feels like you were made to fit into his arms, against his chest. He grows hot, his throat clearing as he immediately steps back to give you some space. 

You’re a stranger. 

He doesn’t even know your name. 

The rain pounds outside and lightning flashes, and Flip snaps back to reality. 

“I don’t think I can stay all night, I would have brought backup.” He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, offering, “I can do a search of the premises, if that would make you feel better.” 

“You shouldn’t go outside.” You shake your head, and Flip lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, glad that you have relieved him from what would have been one bitch of a job. Especially when you look up at him through your lashes and bite your lip and say, “I would prefer it if you stayed in here. With me.” 

“Alright.” He smiles, throwing all caution to the wind because what the hell else is he going to do on a Monday night? “If you’d feel safer with me staying here with you, I’ll stay. But in the morning, I’ll escort you either home or to another safe location, or hell even to the station and you can give a statement, and we’ll have someone out here searching the woods.” 

“That sounds like a plan, thank you.” Your hand rests on the bar counter close to his, so close, he nudges his pinky against yours. There’s no rings on your finger, he notices. 

“In the meantime, what should we do?” He licks his lips, knowing that it’s wrong, it’s an abuse of power -- but who has power over whom? He’s getting lost in your eyes, in the pretty smile you give him as you reach over the bar counter and grab a small rectangular pack of -- 

“I have a deck of cards.” You brandish them at him, looking over your shoulder with a grin. The way you’re bent over the bartop has Flip’s mind doing awful things, things like picturing you without any of those clothes on. “You any good at poker?” 

Flip was not good at poker. 

He’s lost the past two games and you’re already shuffling for a third. The energy in the bar has relaxed significantly, and Flip is starting to forget why he’s there. 

“Let’s up the ante.” You say, in an attempt to discourage or motivate him, he isn’t sure, as you shuffle and shuffle and shuffle the cards. “Each hand someone loses, they take something off.” 

“I don’t see how this ends any other way than me naked.” Flip grunts, not entirely displeased by the prospect. 

“You could win, and then I’d be the naked one.” You point out, and he laughs, a snort through his nose that exhales blue wispy smoke from his cigarette. 

On the first hand, Flip loses -- but that’s all it takes. He unbuttons his shirt and you’re hot on him, pinching his cigarette out and flicking it into the ashtray for him, your lips searing onto his. No one can ever find out about this, can ever know he’s about to fuck this stranger on the job, fuck you silly over the bar counter while on a call, and you don’t seem like the type to tell. Not with the way you’re pulling your blouse up over your head.

He hadn’t really paid any attention to what you’re wearing until it’s off, in a heap on the floor around him. The undergarments you wear are old fashioned, a bullet bra and girdle that hold up a pair of stockings. The clothes on the floor are old fashioned too, almost like the same exact uniform that a waitress might have worn at the Tavern twenty years ago. 

But they look new, and maybe the tavern never updated their uniforms,Flip doesn’t care, not with the way your hands are on his belt, pulling his hard dick out of his pants and spitting down onto it, spreading the spit around, his tip leaking and joining the mix. 

With ragged breath, he pushes you down face first onto the bartop again, pops the straps of your bra, your garter, pushes down your stockings. They rip under his rough treatment, and he feels bad for a moment, just a moment, until his cock is rubbing at the soft wet folds of you and you let out a moan that fills the tavern with warmth. 

“I don’t have a -- ” He starts, pulling away, trying to remember that he’s almost forty for fuck’s sake, he needs to be responsible, he needs to -- 

“It’s alright.”  You reach behind him and grab at his hand, leading him to drape his body over yours, giving him permission to fuck you anyway. 

With a sharp breath he pushes in all the way, bottoms out so that his cock is completely enveloped inside of you, his hips pressed against the smooth skin of your ass, and he almost can’t move he’s so blinded by the feeling. You’re so tight, and so wet, the bar smells like musk and sweat and rain, the sweet salty combination making his mind go dizzy. 

He’s never talked much during sex, and this is no different, but in the back of his mind he wishes he had something good enough to say to you, something impressive. Instead, he thrusts in a steady harsh rhythm that has your knees buckling, your hands gripping the far edge of the bar counter, your cheek pressed against the polished wood, mouth dropped open and eyes shut tight in pleasure. 

Flip’s hands on your waist are tight enough that he could dig them into you if he wasn’t careful, he could leave marks. He almost wants to, wants you to remember him when this is over and he’ll have to go back to the station, have to write a report about all of this. Not this, not you, not the way your sweet cunt clenches around him as you take his force, take his length, hot and pulsing inside of you. 

He needs to see you, all of a sudden, he needs to. Grabbing your arms, he pulls out only long enough for you to whine in protest for a few short seconds, and then he’s taking you to a booth, taking you somewhere padded that he can lie you down and brace himself on top of you. 

You lick your lips as your head rolls back, legs spreading for him to nestle between them as he bends over you, those same legs hooking around his waist. You’re completely naked, your perky breasts begging to be sucked on, and so he does. He wonders if the rasp of his clothes on your skin feels nice, if you like it. If you like him. 

It’s too hot in here, Flip thinks, his eyes shut as he pants against your body. Too hot and bright, bright behind his eyelids as he groans and moans. He’s sweating, and it’s loud, the sound of rain too loud, its wooshing a roar that deafens his ears. He almost can’t think about anything else, can’t think about the way you feel under him, why is it so bright why is it so hot -- 

It hits you first, and you’re squirming, panting and moaning as you come. Flip can feel it squelching between your thighs, his cock pulling out shiny and glistening with your orgasm. It makes him go over the edge, his come filling you up, the hot white spread of it. He tries not to worry about fucking you raw, but it’s been a long time since he hasn’t used a rubber. 

You give him a big grin, stretching out beneath him, your legs falling to the sides where they can. It’s still raining. 

Wordlessly, he gathers you up from underneath him and settles you down on the floor, kissing all over your face, your neck, your breasts. Your stomach chuckles underneath him as you hold him close, breathing in the smell of him. He doesn’t want you to ever let go. 

“Then don’t.” You sigh into his hair there on the floor, and Flip closes his eyes, tired from the events of the day. 

He doesn’t realize that you’ve responded to his thoughts, until he’s in a deep sleep. 

In the morning, he’s alone. 

In the morning, the dive bar isn’t just old, it’s run down. The windows are smashed like kids had been playing pranks here, tossing bottles and rocks through the glass. The shelves are all empty, no liquor, nothing. 

Flip feels like he is frozen as he looks around him. Where were you? Where were the cards that had scattered all over the floor? He is fully dressed, asleep in a booth that is covered in dust and cobwebs -- it wasn’t that dirty yesterday, was it? 

He’s sick, his stomach lurching as he sits up. He doesn’t even know your name to shout it out into the bar. In the light of morning, the rain has stopped, and Flip gathers himself up on uncertain legs. He looks around, trying to find any trace of you, but there isn’t one. There’s only one set of boot prints in the dust on the floor, his own.

Confusion continues to wash over him, which slowly morphs into panic. These windows weren’t broken last night, the floor wasn’t dusty, where the fuck were you? He stumbles to his truck, his mind working double time trying to piece together what happened. Surely he hadn’t dreamt this, what was he doing last night? He wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t stoned he -- 

“Come in, Flip, come in!” A panicked voice crackles from his car, and making sure his gun is still in the holster, Flip runs right to his truck, hopping in and turning the engine over. 

“Ron?” Flip grasps the radio tightly in his hand, tuning the frequency to hear better. “Ron is that you? What’s going in?” 

“Flip! Where are you?” Ron asks, direct to the point. 

“I’m up by the fork in the mountain pass, just off the scenic highway.” 

“What?! Are you safe?” 

“Of course I’m safe, why wouldn’t I be? Ron what the fuck is happening?” Flip’s eyes are hard on the tavern, and even from the outside, something is wrong. This place was not open last night, it couldn’t have been. The walls are blackened with soot, the doors are boarded shut. How did he get in -- how did he get out?

“There was flash flooding, down the scenic road. It brought rocks down with it from all the rain. Search and rescue found a couple cars down the cliffside.” Ron rushes to explain, and Flip feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“They’re dead?” He pinches the bridge of his nose -- people were getting caught up in a flash flood while he was getting laid last night. 

“Yeah. You need to get back here, where did you say you were at again?” Ron asks, and Flip can hear that he’s pulling out a pen and paper from his desk. 

“Mile High Tavern. I spent the night here” Flip responds, and then there’s silence. “Ron? Did you hear me? I said I’m at -- ”

“I heard you, but that’s not possible.” Ron’s voice is shaken, “That bar burned down back in ‘57.” 

All at once, everything stops. 

He blinks, and he’s in the roar of the inferno as he comes into your body.

He blinks again, and the bar is gone entirely. 

Nothing remaining but a patch of scorched earth in its place. 

No neon sign. 

No motorcycles

No single car out front. 

Ron is saying something on the radio, but Flip can’t hear. He is reversing out of there so quickly that he almost misses the flash of something behind him -- almost. Flip looks back in his rearview mirror at the bar and sees something, a shape, a young woman in old fashioned clothing far away, through the trees. 

A hand waves, and Flip knows that whatever you were, you saved him, protected him from the flash flood that killed. You saved him, and he fucked you, and he’s sick to his stomach about that, not sure what was real and what isn’t, not sure of anything anymore except that he wants to find you and do it all over again. 

But he blinks, and you’re gone. 

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic November challenge.

There's Just One Who Could Make Me Stay

November Prompt: Guard | Word Count: 532 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Eddie Munson Lives, Returning Home, Reconnecting, Pre-Steddie

Steve stands along the baseline. The kids on the court look way younger than he remembers being at their age. Of course, he was fighting monsters, and that ages a man.

He's part of the old guard. 

Problem is, he still feels young. Forty-eight isn't old, but thirty years is a long time to be out of high school.

Tommy greeted him with excitement earlier. The jagged edges of their friendship smoothed over after years. King Steve resurrected, for one night only. Steve played along. He was happy to see him, but Steve definitely hasn't forgotten.

Lucas, Steve actually was happy to see. That championship will always be tainted, the last one Hawkins ever won. But Lucas deserved to be the master of ceremonies, the cutter of ribbons.

The new gym is dedicated, and it's weird to stand where the demolished old one stood, now long gone. Like so many things in Hawkins. It's not the town he grew up in, that's for damn sure. 

None of them stayed, they fled, one-by-one.

Outside, Steve sees his rental car tire is flat. The spare? Mostly flat. 

Goddamnit.

He digs in his wallet and finds his AAA card, and expects to be told that it'll be an hour or two. But there's surprisingly a local shop that covers AAA calls now, and they've dispatched them out.

Awesome. Steve hops up on the trunk of the car and watches the last of the crowd disperse. 

He hears the tow truck before he sees it. 

Sees the dark head of long hair fly upwards when the guy jumps out, both boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud. 

"Flat tire?" the guy hollers as he's pulling open the toolbox along the bed.

Steve stills.

"Eddie?"

And the head whips towards him, familiar, even if it's been nearly thirty years.

"Steve Harrington can't change a tire?" voice teasing, but delighted.

Steve laughs, crossing the distance.

"Spare is flat, too. How the hell are you? I didn't know you were back in town," Steve says, barreling forward, pulling Eddie off his feet.

It's been a long fucking time. 

"Yeah, enough of the old assholes have croaked that most of the townsfolk don't even remember my whole satanic murder spree," Eddie says dryly, hugging him back. "Wayne retired, and I moved home to keep him retired."

"You should have called. I'd have come to see you."

Helping pack Eddie up, only half-healed from his wounds, had been Steve's biggest what if in life. Eddie, the first to go.

Now, here he is.

Eddie smiles, face close, "I figured you had a whole life going."

"Divorced. Three times," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. There are wrinkles around his eyes, but he looks good. Really happy.

"Jesus Christ, Harrington. Don't you know the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over-and-over, expecting different results?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve jaws back. And it's nice, the banter. He's missed it. 

They get down on the ground at the tire together. AAA might be paying Eddie to change it, but Steve can fucking help.

Tire changed, hands dirty, Steve looks at Eddie, "You wanna grab a beer? I'll buy."

"Hell yeah you will, Harrington."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️

[buckleyx]

hii! first off I love your blog ♡ you’re so talented and soo kind and your blog just gives such a welcoming vibe <33

If you’re looking for a request, I would love a angsty with a fluffy ending imagine with eddie diaz x reader if you’d like..? maybe like reader gets hurt somehow and eddie is all worried and sad (the 118 is too of course), cause I love me some eddie angst ♡ thank you sm <33

STAY AWAKE FOR ME E.D

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: AWHHH YOU'RE SO KIND DJFBBF. The way i started giggling when i read this, thank you so much darling !! (Also ur pfp is so cute) <33

I'm also such a sucker for Eddie angst hehe, aren't we all tbh

Eddie Diaz x gender!neutral reader

Warnings: major injuries, explosions, blood loss, car crash and ANGSTTT

masterlist

"Noo not now!" Buck whined at the ringing alarm bell. The food on his spoon almost close enough to touch his lips. You giggled, grabbing a piece of bread and putting it in your mouth before running off to get your uniform on. Eddie waited for you at the truck, your helmet already in his hands, leaning against the red door so you can get in first. "Hello handsome." You teased as you climbed in. His cheeks flushed, playfully rolling his eyes as he gave you the helmet with your name on. The door closed behind him and at a fast speed the truck started moving.

"What are we looking at, cap?" Eddie asked throught the combs. His eyes landed on you. You were sitting in front of him, your seatbelt thigtend against your chest, your hand resting on the mental part so that when you arrived you would be quick to unbuckle it.

"Car accident." Bobby replied, looking at his team throught the rearview mirror. "It's not gonna be pretty."

You took a deep breath as you caught Buck nervously shuffling in his seat. Calls like these almost always meant a heavy outcome.

Eddie brushed his foot against yours, a wordless gesture of asking if your were okay. You nodded, smiling at his concern. "I can't wait when we are finished with this shift." You admitted. "I wanna finally eat."

"Oh, same here y/n." Buck agreed. "I'm starving." Eddie's mouth curled up in a small smile, refusing to keep his eyes of you. He admired your succesfull attempt to make the mood a bit lighter since he knows you aren't keen on heavy silences.

Once you arrived at the scene, you patiently awaited captain's orders. Two cars where smashed into each other as the third laid further down on it's back. Four people where involved with one victim who's injuries were already fatal. The team moved quickly as you were the first to arrive at the scene.

"Eddie, Y/n?" Bobby yelled. "Go look at the car further down and give me an update."

You quickly sprinted over to the upsidedown car, gear in hand and Eddie next to you. A man, about 30, layed unconscious in his car seat. The seatbelt stopping him from completely falling to the ground. You tried your best to examine him in his current situation. But the door had blocked all your access, luckily the man had his window open. You kneeled down so you could feel for a heartbeat. "I got a pulse!" You yelled, feeling the skin under your finger move in a slow pace. "We'll need a neck brace and an IVE. Can you call for extra backup to get him out?"

Eddie nodded, rushing to the truck while updating dispatch and Bobby on the current situation.

Your brain was looking at all the different options to get the man safely out. In your head you had already sawn off the door and got the backup to help you get him back down. But in reality it would be taking a bit longer so you had to find a way to keep him alive until then.

You were deep in thought until Eddie's screams pulled you back out. You looked over at him. He was running towards you but yelling for you to get back. In a split second your brain switched and you were hearing clearly what he was saying. "The motor!" He yelled. "It's gonna explode."

You were still positioned on the ground, you tried crawling back but a hand suddenly grabbed your uniform, stopping you from moving. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You cried, looking at the passenger who had just woken up. His grip was ferm and before you knew it there was an explosion. Your body flew to the side. A stabbing pain in your side and a pounding headache made it unable for you to get back up.

Oh no. You though, seeing the ground underneath you turn into a puddle of blood.

"Y/n? Y/n!" Eddie cried, falling to his knees, his hands shaking. He tried whiping away the blood from your face, stroking some hair behind your ear before grabbing your cheeks in his hands. "Oh honey. Oh god."

"Eddie?" You breathed weakly, noticing the blood on his clothes. "Are you okay."

The firefighter tried to staunch the blood on your side while panicked breaths left his lips. His eyes were red and full of terror. "Eddie, I'm fine. I promise." You mumbled, not fully processing how bad it was. You weakly grabbed onto the hem of his shirt. The blood on your hands left a red stain the shape of you fingerprints. Oh. It isn't his blood that he was covered in. Your vision started to blurry, breathing started to hurt, your ears were ringing and your head was pounding so hard you were afraid your heart was gonna burst out of your body.

"Just look at me." Eddie assured. As he watched the rest of the team help him out with stopping the blood from leaving your body. You looked down at the nagging pain. A sharp piece of metal was struck right through your side. Looking at it made it worse. The pain was stronger then ever. "Hey look at me. You're alright." Eddie grabbed your hand, squeezing it as hard as he could. He was trembling over his words but you didn't care. All you could think about was him. His eyes. His beautiful eyes being filled with worry. "I'm sorry." You cried. "I'm so sorry." You sobbed, your free hand grabbed his shirt again. You where terrified, completely terrified and all you wanted to do was sink into his arms and never let go. "I'm so tired, Eddie."

"I know baby. I know. But you gotta keep looking at me. Let me see those pretty eyes." You couldn't help the hot tears streaming down your face. Your breathing became more shallow and your eyelids more heavy. It was getting harder to stay awake. You tried. You really tried. Eddie was mumbling to keep you awake but you couldn't hear anything cleary at this point. Hen secured the piece of metal that was crushed into your side. She and the team helped you on a curney while Eddie kept by your side. Your hands still locked into each other.

You felt so weak and in so much pain. You saw the sky moving above you as they rolled you to the ambulance. You vaguely heard your panicked colleges and conversations over dispatch but it was all too foggy to clearly hear what they were saying.

The sky looked pretty that night. The stars seemed to be perfect. But you were tired. And ready to go to sleep.

You were awoken by a soft buzzing sound and some distant chatter that you couldn't make out. Opening your eyes seemed harder then you rememberd. Your eyelids felt heavy. You started flickering them until you were used to the white light that the room illuminated.

Your throat felt afwul and there was still a sharp pain on your side but this time more bearable. Your eyes closed shut a few times again and here and there you drifted back into a deep slumber.

Once you slept off your anesthesia you were able to think again. You opened your eyes and tried to locate were you where. You fell a soft hand touching yours and after you carefully tilted your head, you saw your tired boyfriend sitting next to you. His hair was a mess and his head was resting on your bed. He was snorring a little and you smiled at the peaceful state he looked in. A nurse walked into the room. He greeted you but lowered his voice once he saw Eddie sleeping.

"He has been here quite a while." The nurse admitted while they checked your obs. "How are you feeling?"

You carefully nodded your head. "I'm fine. Could be better though." The nurse smiled sympathetically. Once he was done checking your vitals the doctor wandered in.

She told you they were able to successfully remove the metal and that you should be able to make a full recovery. "You did lost a lot of blood and suffered some head trauma so you'll have to take it very easy, y/n." The doctor warned. "Lot's of rest and taking it very easy. I'll let a chiropractor come and visit you once you're feeling better so they can discuss further treatment with you. For now I'll give you something more for the pain and some ice for your throat. You're very lucky, y/n. This could have taken a very different turn." She said before leaving the room to let you rest.

You took a deep breath. Your hand softly combed through the messy brown hair of the Diaz sleeping next to you. He stirred in his sleep, muttering your name a few times before realizing what was happening.

His head abruptly perked up. "You're awake." He whispered, almost not believing his eyes. He immediately sat up straight, his right hand holding yours.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm alive." You smiled. "But I'm still starving."

Eddie let out a soft laugh, he tried his best to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"You scared me y/n." He admitted. "You really did."

"I know."

Eddie leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He brushed some hair away, his fingers following the soft skin of your cheeck. "You're going to be okay." You were afraid and in pain but seeing him here made it for some reason go all away a little. "And once we're home I'm gonna cook you the best meal you ever had." He laughed, trying to see you crack a smile in which he succeeded.

My requests are open! :)

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[sigh-tofm]

currently watching a reality/docu show about game wardens and i despise putting these men in us based scenarios but imagine…

… working in a 24/7 diner and regularly getting all sorts of law enforcement throughout the night, looking for a pick-me-up before they head back out again. your favourite is the big captain with a silver star and everything, who doesn’t really go on a patrols or calls anymore but still stops by your diner as often as he can. he’s ridiculously handsome in the rugged, brutish way, with a smiling lines around his eyes and impressive facial hair. always gets coffee and a slice of pie, always asks for a refill so he can watch your broad ass as you walk away when you retrieve the coffee pot. you kinda know what he’s about when he does that, but you don’t mind in the least letting him have his fun and wiggle your hips a little extra - he’s otherwise polite and a good tipper too. you don’t know it yet, but one of these days he’ll be waiting by your car for you to finish your shift and convince you to take him home with you.

… spending a summer day out on the lake, tanning in the back of bowrider you borrowed from your friend when you hear another boat coming up, motor idly working as the driver lets the waves bring him closer to you. you prepare to be annoyed at yet another guy who finds it hilarious to make fun of a fat girl in a bikini, but when you sit up you see it’s a game warden boat and aboard is the single most handsome man you have ever seen in your life, even though his face is shaded by his cap. he asks you all the important questions about boating licenses and life jackets, and you answer them all with a wavering voice, made a little nervous by this god of a man. he mistakes (on purpose) your hesitation as being under the influence and makes you do a breathalyser test. looks you straight in the eyes while you lock your lips around the tube to blow and taps your nose with his finger when the machine beeps and proclaims your innocence.

… being out hunting on the first day of the season and being stopped for a control by a game warden. you’re a good girl, you have everything in order, you tell him as he checks your gun, sticking his finger into the tube magazine to make sure that you don’t carry too many shotgun shells. he gives you a wry smile and asks for your hunting license and you pull out your wallet, only to find that you forgot it at home. he returns to his truck to check with dispatch to see if your story is true, if you really do have a hunting license in your name. proceeds to tell you your license is from last year and that you’re breaking multiple laws here. no license (even though you know you have one), lying to an officer (even though you’re speaking the truth) and hunting on private property (even though you’ve sure you didn’t see any signs about that coming in here). but you can’t prove any of that of course, not out here. seems you’re got yourself in quite the pickle, little lady. luckily warden mactavish is willing to let you make it right without giving you any fines.

… calling in about an owl that has gotten inside your house in the middle of the night. waiting in trepidation at the door so as not to agitate the animal further, only wearing your short dressing gown when there’s suddenly knocking. you open to find the biggest man you’ve ever seen standing on the porch, and you’re about to slam the door on him when he puts his foot in the door and announces he’s here about a bird. you nervously open the door again and he steps inside, having to turn sideways to fit his massive shoulders through the entryway. you point him to the living room where the owl is perched on your curtain rod. in less than three minutes he’s located it, caught it with his skeleton-gloved hands (not minding the talons at all) and taken it outside to release it. you’re ready to thank him and bid him adieu, but he shoulders his way back inside to straighten up the curtains again and sweep up the feathers, a service you didn’t know they provided. at last he stands up to his full height and looks you up and down, from your messy hair to your thick thighs. ‘now, about that bird…’

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

@bucktommypositivityweek Day 1, season 8 opening disaster. 2,610 words, read on AO3

🐝“We're doomed.”🐝

“Millions of bees?” Chimney asked unbelieving, still clutching the radio. Dispatch had just reported it; in fact, it had been his own wife, and she was definitely not joking on the job. “Killer bees,” Buck corrected, squinting up at the cloudless sky as if they were already pouncing down on the 118. “African honeybees, actually. Nasty, aggressive critters. The whole hive attacks when threatened, and they chase their victims. Saw it on a documentary once.” “Nobody wants to know, Buckley.” Gerrard was just leaving the fire engine and putting on his helmet. ”There's a huge traffic jam ahead of us, and a few miles at the end of it is the truck that caused it. Whether there were millions of bees in it or not, which I personally think is nonsense and an exaggeration, we’re the ones picking up the pieces, so let's get to work.” Buck shouldered his axe, though a noise overhead distracted him. A small plane, a nimble propeller-driven aircraft, was flying pretty low above them. Was he imagining it, or did the pilot briefly wobble its wings? “That's one of ours,” said Eddie, who was now walking beside him, toward the next crashed car. “There are at least two people trapped inside.” "Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“I looked through the windshield, Buck,“ Eddie replied with a bemused look. ”No,” Buck shot back, looking up again, ”that it’s one of our machines?”

“Pry open the door here… yeah, that's it. Get a grip, Buck. I know this because Tommy explained how to recognize the machines. I'm surprised you haven't started spouting off trivia about airplanes and helicopters yet." Hen came running up, tossing Eddie an IV bag which he deftly caught. “We're doing a proper triage," she said. “Oh wait…" She bent over past Eddie, who was busy calming the occupants of the car, two women, appearing frightened, confused and clearly injured. ”Ma'am? We got you. Eddie, hand me a skin clamp, please.” Buck, standing behind her, was already looking for the next car from which someone needed to be freed. He recognized from her tone of voice that she had discovered something bad in that car, but that the person concerned should not notice under any circumstances. Eddie rummaged in the emergency bag, and Hen asked in a conversational tone, “What do you think they need a plane for? It's not exactly a forest fire.” “It's a crop-dusting plane, I think,“ Eddie replied. ‘It's probably supposed to spray chemicals against the bees.’ ”Against millions of bees?” “Well, how else are they going to get rid of them? Buck, I think I heard Gerrard call you!" Buck turned around and saw the captain pointing at two cars wedged into each other, a scowl on his face that furrowed his forehead. I better hurry, he thought, and he was right about that.

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Of all the things Tommy had ever done with an airplane, this was probably the craziest.

The mission had been anything but normal from the start. Millions of bees had escaped from the truck in an accident on the highway, dispatch reported. Killer bees, goaded and stressed, now following an instinct. Whatever bees do, maybe they want to pollinate something. Tommy took a look at the controls – everything was fine – and thought of Evan.

Of course, it was the worst possible time to think about the man who’d turned his head, but then again, it wasn't. Evan would probably have a lot of exciting prattle about bees. Tommy briefly pondered what he knew about them… well, wasn’t much. Right now, what mattered was his job; the only idea Animal Control had come up with, He was supposed to fly as close as possible to the swarm and spray biocides. First, the smoke would irritate the insects and disorient them, then kill them in no time. He already felt sorry for those who would have to sweep millions of dead bees off the streets at the end of the day.

Tommy kept to the west of the highway; according to his information, the bees had set off directly towards the city. He steered the machine low, the bees didn't reach that high of an altitude. A few red spots below him told Tommy that the emergency services had already reached the scene, and Evan would be among them, no doubt. The people down there were safe. However, that didn't apply to a large part of L.A., if those bees were to cause trouble there. With such a large number of aggressive animals, you didn't even have to be allergic to die from their stings.

“FLX-126, this is Air Control,” croaked his radio. “Kinard, the population has been warned to close windows and doors, you have clearance. Catch the beasts before they reach the city.“

”Copy that. I’ll take up the chase against the bees.“

Evan would find that funny.

<+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+>

”Hurry up, Buckley, there's an oil slick up ahead that needs to be secured. You want half the pileup to blow up? One spark is all it takes!”

“I'm nearly there, Captain,” Buck shouted, helping a shivering elderly gentleman out of the car. He had almost torn the door off its hinges trying to free him, but after a quick check, it seemed that the man was all right, except for an ugly gash on his forehead. Not the first miracle today. ”The ambulances are over there, please go to them, they will take care of you.”

“Buckley!"

Buck liked to imagine Gerrard as a nagging little man who would tear himself apart in the forest in a rage, but reality was no fairy tale. Reality was an operation on a chaotic road smeared with oil and blood, where a hazardous materials truck full of bees had left a trail of devastation. A mission with dozens of trapped people who had to be freed using heavy equipment and muscle power, and Buck was already dripping with sweat. But there was no time to catch a breath, not when Gerrard was in this mood.

“Get the binder!” Gerrard snapped, while simultaneously impelling Chimney, ‘There are still people trapped up ahead, so get your ass in gear!’

Gerrard's arms were gesturing in both directions. Now Buck knew a better comparison than a vicious fairy-tale creature — Gerrard reminded him of General Grievous, who could lash out with four arms at once. He jogged over to the captain, giving the oil slick a skeptical glance. It was big, yes, but a simple barrier should suffice to start with; there were more important things to do right now.

“The binder is in the truck, and it's almost half a mile down the highway,“ he said.

”So?“ Gerrard's Adam's apple jumped up and down angrily. Buck stared at it, fascinated.

”I should help Chimney, there seems to be a problem up ahead.”

Buck pointed to his brother-in-law, who was trying with great effort to break open a wedged car door.

“The 126 is further ahead, they’ll be fine. The oil slick is here.” Gerrard said with narrowed eyes. The guy needs glasses, Buck thought.

Now he knew why Gerrard wanted to keep him here. He was probably afraid that Tommy was on duty up ahead and they would meet. Moreover, the captain of the 126 was not very fond of Gerrard, and Gerrard would have to stop his annoying harassment for a while. At least Buck would then have been able to work in peace as he saw fit... the way Bobby had taught him, not that stupid old geezer with his old-fashioned rules. However, he was convinced that Tommy was on the plane that had just made a loop above them and then turned west. For a second, he pondered whether it was worth rebelling against Gerrard, but then he thought of all the people who were still trapped and hurt, looking for help. Buck took a deep breath.

“All right,” he growled and jogged across the highway to the fire engine.

At least Tommy is having an exciting time.

<+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+>

When Tommy spotted the swarm of bees, his mouth went dry.

He didn't know what he had actually expected, but the sight was... sobering. Not to mention scary, even from up here. Millions of bees formed a dense cluster that only frayed a little at the edges. It was an enormous cloud of insects that almost looked like a single animal; a huge, billowing monster moving towards the city.

Evan would have a better comparison for it, he thought briefly. But even his brave, extremely adorable boyfriend would probably freak out if he could see this. Tommy, in any case, sensed that only an adrenaline rush was keeping him from simply turning the plane around and leaving as quickly as possible. That, and his sense of duty. Damn it.

The swarm was now already close to one of the city's outskirts, a peaceful suburbia with neat terraced houses and cute gardens. Gardens that would soon be invaded by so many bees that every living being down there would be buried beneath them. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Tommy gripped the stick more firmly, lowering the machine a couple of feet.

These critters were already much too close to L.A. There had been warnings through the usual apps, but people were people. He knew there would be enough who hadn't noticed or were just too ignorant. Some of them would be hit by the chemicals, no doubt. And Tommy knew that theoretically that shouldn't bother him; he had a job to do. But only people like Gerrard would consider the consequences to be collateral damage. If Tommy released the biocide now, it would not only destroy the bees, but also cause a lot of damage in the pretty little gardens below him – and in the groundwater. A crazy idea formed in his head. There wasn't much time to make up his mind.

He pushed the controls down, added a little thrust and flew straight into the swarm.

It was a strange feeling, a bit like floating through cotton wool. The bees were briefly startled, but kept their pace. It wouldn't be enough to make them change course, and Tommy had to hurry – the longer he flew through the middle of the swarm, the more likely it was that they would sit on his windshields until he couldn't see anything. Or that too many of them would fly into the propellers until they clogged them and he would lose control. Tommy gritted his teeth. All or nothing, he thought, and waggled the wings to stir them up. Then he yanked the plane sharply to the left, flew a small loop, and glanced behind. The bees followed him; the cloud of insects, which had only briefly scattered, had reformed into a dense, angry mass, and they were on his tail.

Next target: Kinard, he thought. Off to the desert with you.

<+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+>

That evening, as Buck unlocked the door to the loft, dirty and tired, he was greeted by an extremely pleasant scent. It smelled like... lasagna? He had barely closed the door when his stomach growled.

“Interesting greeting, Evan,” Tommy called to him from the kitchen counter.

Tommy, to whom he had given a copy of the keys to his apartment only two weeks ago. Buck's heart gave a happy little jump. He was also a little jealous, though, because Tommy was obviously freshly showered, and he felt like he had just come out of the garbage disposal. However... the sight of his boyfriend, with his hair still damp and slightly wavy at the ends, and apparently wearing one of Buck's T-shirts that stretched in all the right places... His throat tightened and he cleared it.

“My stomach's as happy to see you as the rest of me,“ he replied, and with two quick steps he was at Tommy, kissing him fondly while he glanced at the stove. Lasagna, definitely.

”Mmm,” Tommy purred appreciatively, ”ten more minutes. Maybe you want to change quickly? You kinda reek of oil.”

Buck groaned. “Gerrard had me do all the dirty work,” he complained, as he dropped onto a chair at the kitchen table. “That truck with the killer bees? It skidded because the driver – who, by the way, was very lucky to survive – was frightened by a spider in the cab. Can you imagine? The guy had millions of bees on board, and he freaked out because of a spider that had come right down on his nose.“

”You call me if you find a spider in the shower,” Tommy remarked as he stirred salad in a bowl.

“Because I find touching them gross. And because it's not right to just flush them down the drain. Did you know that spiders are very important to the ecosystem?“

”Hm. But I guess you would have been scared, too.”

“Maybe,“ Buck admitted. ‘Anyway, the guy swerved so hard that he caused a huge accident on the highway. Dozens were injured, it's a miracle that no one died. The trail of devastation stretched for a few miles across the roadway.’

”Including an oil slick, it seems to me,” Tommy teased him.

Buck raised an arm and smelled his armpits.

“Yuck. Yeah. Gerrard had me mopping up oil, securing the roadway, extinguishing tiny fires on the shoulder... I was lucky I could free four or five people from their cars before he sent me off to do some useless crap again.”

"The guy really has it in for you.”

“It's the medal,” Buck said, while he pushed a few of the carrot pieces, that Tommy had already cut but not yet added to the salad, into his mouth, ”He can't stand that I was decorated and he's been stumbling on the career ladder for forty years.”

“Hmmm,” Tommy went and quickly threw the rest of the vegetables into the bowl before Buck could contaminate them even more. ”That, or it's just because he's got a stick up his ass.”

Buck laughed briefly, then sighed. “It was a crazy operation, and I could have helped a lot more people. Tommy, I saw your plane for a second today. I bet you had a much more exciting day. A huge swarm of bees right under your plane, and you destroyed them all before they could wreak havoc on the city!”

The look he shot Tommy was admiring, and Tommy grinned. He thought about how he had almost peed his pants flying his plane in front of a giant swarm of aggressive bees, and that flying right into them had been a pretty crazy move. About the maneuver he had flown over the desert, that had almost cost him an engine because he had to try to get above the swarm again to release the biocide. He thought of the moment when a few of the killer bees had broken away from the collective and actually, as he had feared, settled on his cockpit windshield to narrow his view. And he thought about how the flap had jammed when he was directly over the swarm, how the sweat had run down his back and he could hardly breathe. How he had thought of the thousands of people who would be in danger if he didn't finish this; among them Evan.

“It wasn't that exciting,” he said modestly. ‘To be honest, dropping a few chemicals is a simple job, nothing to write home about. You should really take a shower, babe. After that, you can tell me more about Gerrard's exploits, okay?’

He leaned over to breathe a kiss just above Evan’s birthmark, and his smile was worth the little lie.

[free-resources]

[the-ultimate-puppeteer]

May I request Belle (zzz) finding a long-lost gn!younger sibling that's super oblivious and airheaded while she's doing proxy work?

Belle finds her and Wise's younger sibling while she's doing proxy work

I usually don't do gn stuff anymore unless the mood hits me but I like this idea a lot so let's get to it~

•Not many people knew it, but Belle and Wise actually have a younger sibling. Unfortunately, you were missing at the moment

•The reason being is that during the collapse of the old Eridu, they ended up being separated from you

•Hell a reason they actually started doing proxy work because they thought it might actually help find their lost sibling

•They knew the chances if you being found were slim and you actually surviving were even slimmer

•Especially since you weren't exactly the brightest person out there, you were airheaded and could be pretty oblivious at times

•That didn't stop them from holding out hope for you, though, since while you were airheaded, you are also weirdly competent and could always get yourself out of a bind

•And thankfully the siblings faith in you was rewarded

•It's took places a few months before they lost their Phaethon account

•Belle was in doing proxy work with the Cunning hares when they came across a random Agent in the middle if fighting several Ethereals

•And while normally they wouldn't interfere in such a mess, given that they didn't know who you were or if you were with Public security they still ended up watching

•Why well it was because of how despite the odds the fight was so incredible one-sided

•You skillfully and swiftly dispatched ethereals left and right dispatching them all in short time

•That when you start acting in a way completely different from when you dispatched those ethereal

•You were acting like an energetic kid, even bragging out loud about how cool you were, It was a stranger familiar feeling to Belle

•That's when you surprised everyone by suddenly popping out of nowhere right next to them and just started asking about directions

•Needless to say, everyone was confused at that point and caught off guard, with the exception of Anby who seemed to just be going with the flow seemed to be striking up a conversation with you

•That's when Belle noticed your way of speaking being extremely familiar, that being talking in the third person and your familiar hair color being a silver that fades into a dark blue

•That's when finally you stated what your name was in that energetic and ditzy way is when it finally hit her like a truck, lead to her to actually repeat your name out loud through Eos

•The way Belle had said your name caused the Cunning hares, to look at Eos with a questioning look, that's when she said your full name shocking you and asking a typical airheaded question of if she was psychic

•That's when she exclaimed in an emotional voice how you hadn't changed a bit and then called you by your childhood nickname that only your siblings knew you by leaving you stunned

•That's when you said her name out loud, shocking the cunning hares, asking if that was you

•Of course the moment ended up being broken when you asked how he ended up inside a bangboo.

•Being used to how you acted, Belle took the question in stride and introduced who you were to everyone else there

•That's when she asked the Cunning hares if they could put the current mission on hold promising them a discount on this and future missions as long as you got back safely, she wanted to get you back to random play as soon as possible to see you in person and to tell Wise the good news

•They'd finally be reunited with their younger sibling after so long, and when you finally showed up on their front door, a long and tearful reunion took place

[trukademy-canada]

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[truxsolutions]

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[avaaltechnologysolutions]

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Understanding the Role: A truck dispatcher manages freight for a carrier. They locate freight that needs to be shipped, negotiate with brokers, dispatch drivers, and set up routes. They also handle back-end work like reviewing drivers’ logs and tracking their hours.

Difference from a Freight Broker: Unlike a freight broker who serves as a middleman between the shipper and the carrier, a truck dispatcher is directly affiliated with a carrier and works on their behalf.

Legal Requirements: Freight dispatchers are not legally allowed to represent shippers or manufacturers. A freight brokerage business requires freight broker authority through the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration (FMCSA) and a freight broker bond1.

Becoming a Truck Dispatcher for Another Company: If you want to become a truck dispatcher for another company, you can look for open positions on job boards or approach individual carriers and express your interest in becoming a freight dispatcher.

Becoming an Independent Truck Dispatcher: If you want to become an independent truck dispatcher, you need to understand truck dispatching and how you want to operate your business.

Responsibilities of a Truck Dispatcher: Responsibilities include negotiating prices based on current market data, coordinating pickups and deliveries, planning efficient routes for the driver, tracking shipments via a transportation management system (TMS), communicating with carriers regarding changes in route or delivery times, maintaining detailed records, addressing customer concerns, and assisting carriers with additional needs.

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