#why is safety important in a warehouse

[sharpeagle-tech]

Forklift Radar Blind Spot Detection System | UK | UAE | Saudi

The forklift radar blind spot detection system is Made with polycarbonate material, the Radar Blind Spot Detection system is equipped with 24Ghz radar sensors, multiple detection modes, a multi-zone warning system, and a display unit.

[issybee06]

Look but don’t-

Rex Splode x reader

He needs more fics, it’s a crime there aren’t a lot.

I can hear this image it’s so bad…

🔞

Warning!: smut! Wrap it before you tap it!

…………………….…………………….…………………….………….

“I hate him.”

Mark gave a sheepish smile, lowering his controller into his lap. He watched as you glared at the Guardians of the Globe group chat, at Rex’s stupid input on the last mission and his opinion on how everyone did.

“He’s not even the leader…pisses me off.” You hissed, groaning and tossing your phone on the bed. Dramatically, to also fell onto the bed with a loud groan.

“I just don’t get it! Why the fuck would Robot-” “Rudy.” “-Rudy! Thank you, put this mother fucker on the team!”

Mark pats your back awkwardly, “There pat there pat…I know you hate him, and yeah! I’m not the biggest fan of him either, but he is a pretty great hero.”

You glare at him, sitting up, “his personality sucks, that means he sucks, the “two negatives make a positive” just doesn’t work for this one.”

Mark went to open his mouth, but the sound of your phone buzzing cuts him off. You groan, rolling to grab it, “guess bestie bindings gotta wait, powerpuff, we are being summoned.”

He nods quickly, standing up and in a flash of blue black and yellow he was changed.

Show off

………………………..………………………..…………………………

“Ow…”

The Mauler twins just had to ruin the one day off you guys have had in months, deciding it was a great idea to steal some suped up tech and drag you away from beating Mark at his high score.

You were ducking for cover behind some rubble, hiding from the spray of bullets from one of the Twins. Mark and Eve were taking care of the other one, Rae and Duplikate were getting civilians to safety, monster girl and Rudy were trying to fucking disabled a BOMB and immortal…

Yeah fuck him.

“You okay, hot stuff?”

Fuck me.

Of course this annoying ass redhead was flirting on the job, fucks everything with a pulse this guy. And where THE FUCK has he been??? He’s supposed to be your partner in this mission and he’s been GONE the WHOLE TIME!

“Can you not for like 5 seconds and HELP?!” You yell, getting up from the rumble and jumping back into the fight. He laughs, pulling one of his batons out to turn into an explosive.

“Babe I am helping.” He chuckled, chucking the baton over the gunfire of one of the aromatics the twins stole. There’s a loud “BOOM!” And it rocks the warehouse, the sound causing your ears to ring painfully.

“Fuck.”

He laughed, peaking over the rubble, “see! I helped, I win.”

You glared at him, peaking over the rubble as well and lo and behold one of the twins was no more. He lay on the ground, half his side blown off.

Your jaw twitched in irritation.

“Where have you been? I’ve been fighting BY MYSELF for hours!”

He scoffed, rolling the shoulder of his throwing arm, “relax baby cakes, I had other shit to do involved with this mess.”

You were going to strangle him.

“Really? Cause I seriously doubt that there was something more important than HELPING YOUR TEAMMATE-“

BAM!

Your eyes widen and Rex looks like he might die on the spot. You both turn your heads slowly to the mangled Mauler, gun raised shakily with smoke coming out the barrel. His eyes roll back before subcoming to his injuries and dying.

You swallowed, hand reaching down to your side as you feel the gun shot wound.

Rex stares and winces, “that’s not my fault-”

“OMG ITS SO YOUR FAULT!”

………………………..………………………..…………………………

You winced, the pull of the stitches fixing the hole in your side did not need to remind you you were alive every time you moved. You sighed, throwing another punch at the punching bag.

“Hey sexy.”

Shoot me in the head next time.

You glare at him when he walks in, hands clenching, “why are you here?”

He scoffs, hand over his heart like you had just said the most offensive shit to him, “I live here, Mama, same as you.”

“Yeah, no shit, but why are you here? Hm? In the kitchen at-” you looked down at your phone and frown, “-2 in the morning.”

“I can ask you the same thing.” He smirked, reaching over to take the bottle of beer off the bench and pop the cap off, taking a swig.

Fuck.

You hated him, you reminded yourself as you watched the way his Adam apple bobbed under his tanned skin. His ginger hair loose, his clothes relaxed and comfortable, those stupid fuck boy grey sweatpants-

You flick your eyes up to him as he sighs, wiping his mouth.

“How’s the side?”

You lean back into the punching bag, biting the insult that it was his fault you got shot…but you’d rather not get into another screaming match with him.

“It could be worse, I’m lucky it’s a graze.”

He hums, leaning on the wall opposite to you. He takes another swig, “Robot fix you up well?”

You shrug, “I’m not bleeding anymore…”

He chuckled lightly, raising the bottle to cheers to your health. A twitch in your lips turns to a small smile, damn him.

He takes another swig, “well…your fault for not checking if he was out or not.”

Andddd the moments ruined.

“Excuse me?” Your brows furrowed and he shrugs.

“Yeah, you should have been more prepared, that’s why you got shot-“

“I got shot because someone was distracting me!”

He smirks, one brow quirked up, “I distract you?”

Your mouth clamps shut, glaring at him. He smirks, never breaking eye contact as he licks his lips.

This bitch.

You roll your eyes, pulling the knuckle tape off and walking away, “I’m not playing with you Rex.”

“Oh come on sugar tits-“ sugar tits? “-I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanna hear? An im Sorry?”

You spun on your heel, glaring at him, “no! Because I know you don’t fucking mean it! You think this is all a big game! This isn’t college where you can not show up and then try to sleep with everyone!”

He scoffs, playful attitude gone, “hey, I saved your fucking life, instead of yelling at me you should be THANKING MY ASS!”

“THANKING YOU?! ARE YOU JOKING?! ALL THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

His jaw tightens, his hands clench. He’s vibrating with anger as he looks away, a small “Tsk” sound coming from under his breath.

“You’re a real piece of fucking work (Y/n).”

You glare, walking up to him and grabbing his the collar of his shirt, “fuck you Rex.”

He glares, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding him hostage, “I won’t bring my standards so low as to fuck you.”

His words bite but his look, cheeks warming under his tanned skin, those half lidded green eyes, how his hot breath fanned against your face.

Oh.

Oh.

You smirked, “are you…get off from us fighting?”

He stiffens, cheeks redder than his hair as the grip on your wrist tightens, “n-no. No, no of course not.”

You bite your lip as you smile, “I think you’re a liar Rex…a really, really, bad liar…”

His breath stutters, and he swallows audibly. You could have sworn there was a whine under his breath…

“Rex���do you have a crush on me…?” You chuckled, moving closer. His eyes go wide, breathing shallow. It was almost comical, the fuck boy stuttering and blushing like an untouched virgin after being degraded-ohhhh.

“Do you…like being degraded? Is that something you enjoy, Rex?” You whispered as your lips began to burst his ear and he moans.

“F-Fuck you…such a damn bitch all the time.” He mumbled out, and he pulled away. He glared at you and your smirking face.

“What? Can’t handle teasing? All talk, hm?” You taught, laughing as you approached him.

He stands his ground, nostrils flaring as you moved into his space again and pressed your forehead to his.

“…you’re a fucking brat, Rex…” you mumbled, “you think you’re so much better than everyone else…like rules don’t apply to you…”

Idea…

You smirk, “you think you can follow my rules…?”

He shivers, mumbling something under his breath. You raised a brow, “what? Can’t talk? It’s usually impossible to shut you up…”

You reach up, fingernails lightly grazing the veins of his arms and causing his hands to twitch, “…yes.”

“Yes what, Rex?” You smiled, lips ghosting under his jaw and he whispered a curse, “I-i can listen…fuck…just don’t…don’t go.”

Sweet mother of-

You bite down on his neck lightly, and he whimpers such a pretty noise you were so thankful you had restraint or this boy would be putty by now.

“Rule number 1…no touching-“ he opens his mouth to protest but a sharp glare from you shuts him up, “-no touching, or I stop and I never do this again. That fair?”

He nods, “okay…? I…I won’t touch you, just please do something-AH!”

Your hand brushes his front, and his hands shake as they hover over your body. You trace him over the fabric of his sweatpants and fuck…he’s not wearing anything under.

Love bites and hickies begin to paint his neck and collar bone, his moans and pleas music to your ears as you begin to palm him slightly.

“Maybe you’re just a fucking slut…or maybe you’re just a touch starved asshole…who knows?” You mused, grasping him and causing him to gasp in pleasure.

“(Y/n)…please, baby, I’m begging you…I-i need you so bad, please please please-“

You giggled, pulling back from his neck to peak his lips, making him sigh softly. When you pull away he chafes your lips, eyes lusty.

“Remember…don’t touch.”

You move down his body, kissing over his shirt as you moved into down south of his body, his eyes never leaving you.

“Y-you’re so pretty-“

You look up at him from your kneeled position, licking your lips as his breath becomes quicker in anticipation.

“…you okay with this?”

Consent is key everyone.

He sobs his answer, fucking done with your tearing, “YES! Holy shit (Y/n) please!”

You laugh, leaning forward to pull the tie of the sweatpants undone with your teeth and he almost cums just from the sight of you like this. He thinks you’re so beautiful…even if you despise him.

You reach up, tugging at his waistband until his pretty cock slaps against his tummy and stains the shirt with precum. You lick your lips, “hold the end of your shirt up with your teeth.”

He quickly grabbed the hem of his shirt with his teeth, holding it up and out of the way. This exposed even more of his muscular torso, the defined lines of his abs and the strong V leading down to his cock. The sight of you eyeing his member so hungrily only served to make him throb harder, a bead of precum dripping from the tip.

He squirmed impatiently, fighting the urge to buck his hips up to meet your hand. He could only imagine how incredible it would feel to have your fingers wrapped around his aching shaft, stroking him until he couldn't take any more.

You slowly trease him, pointer finger gliding and tracing the underside of his cock, memorizing each vein.

“So pretty Rex…”

You lick your lips, smiling as his cock jerked and pulsed beneath your touch, the skin incredibly hot and silky. Rex was leaking steadily now, a stream of precum drooling down to pool on his heavy balls. The musky scent of his arousal filled the air between you as his muffled whimper came up from his throat and he fought the urge to just slam you head onto him already.

He wasn’t used to not being in control, this was killing him. You were killing him.

You giggled, taking him fully in one hand and stroking him at a painfully slow pace. The other hand rested under his heavy balls, cupping them softly. You reach up, kitten licking the tip clean.

Rex let out a choked cry, his back arching as your hand finally wrapped around his aching cock. The sudden heat and pressure was overwhelming, and his eyes rolled back slightly as you began to stroke him with an agonizingly slow pace. He could feel every ridge and vein of his thick shaft sliding against your palm, the silky skin flushed and pulsing with need.

He moaned softy, sound muffled by the shirt gage in his mouth that was beginning to get drenched with drool. His world dissolved into a bright lights and colors as he felt your little pink tongue lapping at the swollen head of his dick. The slick muscle swirled around his leaking slit, lapping up the copious precum that had gathered there.

He was gone the moment you fully took him in your mouth, shuttering as your moaned vibrations sent his brain spinning. He reached up, tweaking one of his sensitive nipples while the other hand fisted his own hair.

Rex could feel the head of his dick kissing the back of your throat with each downward motion, your nose pressing against his pelvis and his dark curls. The sensation of being fully sheathed in your mouth, surrounded by the slick, silky walls of your throat, was pure bliss. He had never felt so overwhelmed with sensation in his life.

His shirt dropped from his mouth and he caught it in his hand, whining, “b-baby, please…c-can I touch you? I-I know you said no but I-I can’t-“

You pull off with a pop, a string of saliva and precum mix dangling from your bottom lip.

“You wanna touch me…?”

He nods, tears of frustration building up, “yes! Fuck yes are you crazy! Please!”

“…since you said pleas-“

He didn’t even give you time to finish your sentence, hand once in his hair tangling in yours and slamming your mouth back on him.

“F-fuck…if I knew…knew you were like this? God. I-I would have pursued you earlier…you’re so good…so beautiful…fuck…” he gasped his praises out, bucking and whimpering as you took all of him.

“I-I always thought you mmm you were hot…I j-just thought you were Marks girl.” He laughs to himself, shuttering, “heh you’re not though…if you are you would be here…with me.”

Your hands grasped his thighs, nails pressed into the meat of his thick thighs. Tears began to well up as oxygen began to run low, spit drowning you as he tightens his grip in your hair.

“C-can we do this again…? Please? I-I don’t think I can-AH-can give you up yet! S-say you’ll stay, ugh-say it?”

You don’t get a chance, his hips hammering your mouth before his muscles tense up and his thighs pulse. He cums hard, thick sticky ribbons shooting the back of your throat as you choke on him. You swallow, gasping as he pulls you off.

He stares at you, eyes blow with lust. He looks like he’s seeing you for the first time and it makes your stomach flip.

Fuck…you might not hate Rex Sloan.

[lazycats-stuff]

Could you write a batfam story where the reader, who's in an established marriage with Bruce Wayne, accidentally triggers Jason? Perhaps the Wayne family has kept Bruce and Jason's past hardships a secret from the reader, thinking it wasn't important to discuss. However, a misunderstanding between the reader and Jason causes Jason to run away after being triggered of his pass. The rest of the family understands that it was a misunderstanding and tells the reader that Jason will come back and not to worry. They explain Jason's troubled pass with Bruce. However, the reader is consumed by so much guilt and sets out to find Jason. Literally the reader goes and searches Gotham top to bottom IN THE MIDDLE OF A HURRICANE! 😭The reader ends up locating Jason in a warehouse, where Jason’s freezing and the rain is pouring right through. More happens but I want the story to like end where the reader and Jason are crying together in the pouring rain and Jason realizes that he now has a loving dad that would do anything to ensure his and his brothers safety. And like the reader brings Jason back to the manor and everyone else is thinking to themselves like damn, (y/n) really is the best thing to happen to this family, literally the damn glue. Or something… like if (y/n) wasn’t there to save Jason he could have been dead… again.

I am sorry this is so long… i just couldn’t stop thinking of this story dynamic 😊

Oh, my jay bird... Of course I can do it... My poor bird. Also, 2k followers? Why thank you. Also, taking some time off to focus on college because I have some shit coming up. To say lightly.

Summary: The family didn't tell (Y/N) about Jason's trauma. And that causes problems and some broken hearts.

Warnings: Mentions of Jason's past, but nothing graphic, (Y/N) is done with emotional constipation from everyone, but he still loves them a lot, also hurricane.

(Y/N) has been in the family for a few years now. Married with the patriarch of the family, Bruce Wayne, was the best decision he has ever made. Bruce, while known to the public as a playboy at the time, abandoned that mindset, all for (Y/N). Boys accepted (Y/N), once they saw that (Y/N) wasn't marrying Bruce for money. (Y/N) will be marrying him for love.

Were there a few hiccups with Bruce being Batman and all the nightly patrols? Yes. However, (Y/N) and Bruce worked through it. And more importantly, (Y/N) essentially adopted all of the boys as his own. He saw them as his own sons rather than looking at them as their stepsons. And besides, saying that they are his sons brings (Y/N) an indescribable amount of happiness. And besides, living with 4 boys is always fun.

(Y/N) knew about their trauma, but what no one told him was the trauma that Jason went through. He had a vague idea, but never knew exactly. He didn't feel qualified to prod around in anyone's head, anyone's mind, but he made sure to let them all know that if they need to talk about something, get something off of their chest, he is the person they can come to talk to.

And it has happened a few times. Sometimes they would come after a nightmare, squeezing between (Y/N) and Bruce, looking for comfort. Now, everyone was unsure as to what to call him. Batdad or mother hen... That one remains to be determined soon enough by the boys.

It was a tough day for everyone in the household and everyone was ready to straight up murder each other. (Y/N) had an awful day at work, Bruce had a bad day as a CEO and as Batman, well, the Batman part was only the night before, but has moved onto the day. The other boys had difficult days at school and at patrol. Jason had a big problem with his nightmares and flashbacks. Not to mention, Gotham was expecting a hurricane to come over and just sweep over it. It shouldn't be bad and there shouldn't be any damage besides any heavy rain.

Gotham natives are used to rains, whether they be small drizzles or storms. However, Bruce worried about it and made sure to get enough supplies, just in case. Safe to say, everyone was on absolute edge. Closed into the same house, despite it being a manor and absolutely huge, tension could be cut with a knife.

And then, Jason and (Y/N) started fighting. It started off as bickering, but then it turned into a fight where hurtful things were said towards each other. Jason, mentally pushed to the limit by the nightmares and flashbacks has had enough and went to his car. He drove off and (Y/N) was fuming still.

But...

When the anger went away, (Y/N) was mortified. Completely and utterly mortified. He essentially crushed whatever relationship he had with Jason. Words hurt more than any punches and any kicks. No matter what Jason went through, (Y/N) was sure that Jason was hurting like hell now.

(Y/N) couldn't stop pacing in the living room, wondering what is happening to Jason at this very moment. A hurricane is going to pass through soon enough, Jason went to God knows where and (Y/N)'s own heart was breaking apart.

" (Y/N), love, you need to calm down. Jason will be fine. He just needs space. "

" Space?! In the middle of a hurricane?! " (Y/N) now yelled, upset beyond belief. He has upset his son and he was telling him to calm down? He might kick Bruce out of their bed.

Bruce then talked about all the trauma that Jason went through, before he adopted him, after he adopted him at the hands of Joker. (Y/N) was now absolutely mortified.

" Father is right. Jason needs some time to cool off. " Damian said in passing, making (Y/N) throw his hands up in the air.

" Is anyone in this damn house emotionally available?! "

Tim shrugged from the sofa and (Y/N) took a deep breath. Bruce watched intently and he could see what (Y/N) was thinking.

" Do not tell me you are going out there. " Bruce said as (Y/N) put his jacket and shoes on.

Dick and Damian paused to watch the entire thing unfold. Tim looked up from his tablet.

" I am. Jason is my son and I'm going to get him back. Tim, track Jason's phone and send me the location. " (Y/N) said, ignoring Bruce. Bruce rubbed his forehead. (Y/N) is a stubborn bastard when he wants to be. And does Bruce love him for it? Yes. Is it annoying sometimes? Yes.

" There is a hurricane! " Tim yelled after (Y/N) as he stormed out.

" (Y/N)! " Bruce yelled after his husband, but it was too late. (Y/N) was already out the door.

" He's nuts, " Damian said underneath his breath.

" And I married him, " Bruce added.

Jason has started to regret the fact that he has decided to even come out here. Sure, (Y/N) and him got into a fight, nasty things were said, but it would be better if he has just stormed up to his room and slammed his door shut. That would have been a better option than this. This damp warehouse, where there was leaking rain wherever you looked...

Jason was shivering, teeth chattering. Cold probably seeped right to his bones. Hypothermia was also on its way too, Jason had no doubt about it. He leaned back against the wall, curling into himself as much as he could and allowed himself to think about what happened with (Y/N), his dad in a way.

They were all on edge from the hurricane, supplies, wifi and all that stuff was needed just in case. Bruce made sure to make the manor proof of any natural disasters. Gotham wouldn't be hit that badly, so there was no need for evacuation, but there was advice to be cautious about it. Everyone was on edge as it is from being cooped up together too much, since Bruce didn't want them to stray too far, just in case.

And Jason being in a foul mood from his nightmares already, he didn't like this one bit. He wanted to be alone, but no. Common areas are a must according to Bruce. So the fight happened and both of them said really hurtful things to each other. And Jason felt guilty. He knew that emotions took over them both, but still... (Y/N) was always trying to be good to them all.

It was wrong.

Jason looked up at the door when he heard a slam. It could be wind. Or maybe someone trying to find shelter?

What Jason didn't expect was (Y/N), wet to the bone, looking around frantically. When his eyes fell on Jason, he sighed in relief.

" Oh Jay, I've been looking for you everywhere! Are you okay?! " (Y/N) ran up to Jason, quickly kneeling down to check to see if he had any injuries. Jason was touched... To have a genuine parent, a loving parent, alongside Bruce, but Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated so (Y/N) is essentially everything that the boys need.

" Bruce told me what you've been through... And now I know why you ran, what made you so upset. It was a combination of everything plus the hurricane. "

Jason nodded and (Y/N) hugged him tightly. Jason hugged him back just as tightly, if not more.

And the two broke down in tears, holding onto each other tightly.

Bruce was pacing in the living room, worried about (Y/N) and Jason. He should have gone after Jason too. He shouldn't have been so stupid. He should have chased Jason down the moment he left the mansion. But no, he's too emotionally constipated to deal with this. Great. Absolutely great.

He flipped his head around when he heard the front door open and then close and then two sets of footsteps. Jason and (Y/N) stepped into the living room, both soaked to the bone.

" Bruce, " (Y/N) said calmly and Bruce had a feeling he would be kicked out of the bedroom.

" (Y/N)... Are you two okay? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) nodded, smiling at Jason.

" We are B. Jay, go down to the Batcave. Take a warm shower and get changed into warm clothes. I'm sure the others are there too." (Y/N) softly nudged Jason to get going.

Jason took the hint and went to the Batcave. Once he was gone, Bruce turned to (Y/N).

" I'm sorry. I truly am. I should have gone after him, but I was- "

" Stupid? Yeah. Clearly. But I'm willing to forgive. I assume that the cots are ready? "

" Yup. I prepared you warm clothes, some earplugs so that you can't be awaken by the bats. And also a mask so that you won't be awoken by the lights of the cave. You know, reflectors, Batcomputer... Come on. " Bruce gently lead his cold and wet husband to the Batcave. " A warm shower is in order too. "

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, knowing that he will be forced into a warm shower, warm and dry clothes and an intense cuddling session, where Bruce won't let go, out of fear and love... How did he even marry into this crazy family?

[messenger-of-babel]

Fragile Stability

Summary: Very few things could make Dick this scared, but patching up his younger sister is one of them . (Nightwing x batsis!reader)

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: Back with Nightwing and part of this got deleted but I cannot remember where so it mustn't be that important. (On that note: I might redo and reuse this concept for some of my other works in the future with different characters, or try again if I remember what I wanted to add). Warning for blood and mentions of needles, I don't think there's any language warnings. Enjoy! xx

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"Stay with me birdie, please stay with me." Dick grits out, feet thudding against the pavement. It had been a while since Dick had needed to outrun a villain, normally grappling away and flipping over the rooftops like he had been made for it.

Except this time, he had you in his arms, tears streaked down your face as you sob at every rough jostle. "It's okay, I'm getting you to safety, just hold on. Just a little longer, sweetheart." he panted, eyes scanning for the entrance to the nearby safehouse. If he just took a few more turns and twists he could make it, getting well out of range of Black Mask's men. When he found it, he veered heavily, slipping into the abandoned warehouse and pulling the sliding door shut.

"Nightwing, reporting in." He says tensely, activating his commlink the moment he deems it safe enough. It crackles to life, the rough voice of Batman replying.

"Copy Nightwing, report."

"Birdie's been hit." he pants out, manoeuvring to the third to last shipping container at the back. punching in the code with bloodstained fingers, he frees the lock that hisses open, pulling the doors open.

"Their status?" Batman's voice grunts, but even Dick could tell the hint of panic that sat underneath. He unloops your arms from around his neck, stepping into the hidden field surgery set up. A weak LED strip light flickers on above, casting shadows over the walls as he lays you into the surgery chair. There's very little else, a few rolling drawers of medical equipment, a fridge in the back with more supplies.

"Not good." he replies, sitting on the stool beside the chair and dragging a set of drawers closer to him. "She's-she's bleeding badly. Puncture through the thigh from the explosion, a piece of rebar." he swallows thickly, mind replaying the horrid sound of your screaming filling the air once his ears had stopped ringing. "Another in the shoulder, serrated stab wound."

His hands shake as he presses on the puncture on your upper thigh, making you scream out. He winces seeing the way your face is scrunched up, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm sorry birdie, I'm so sorry." he murmurs, heart twisting painfully.

"We're sending help to your location. Red Robin is headed there now with the car, get her stable in the meantime. We'll prep the ward immediately."

Dick's head felt light, darkness floating at the edges of his sight. He swallowed, cold sweat beading at his hairline. "We…we were ambushed by Black Mask's men. This was a set up, they were ready. They're still nearby, if they find here-"

"We'll worry about the Mask." Batman cuts him off. "You know your job, keep her stable."

"We?" Dick replies, voice closing up more and more.

"Red Hood and Myself are going to pursue Black Mask. Spoiler and Robin are going to take out the rest of the men from the hideout."

Dick swallows, blinking rapidly. "I-It was just supposed to be a minor drug bust." he manages to get out. "Just get the Mask, send more people here not out there-"

"Everyone has their orders."

The tone of Batman is cold and hard, making the words Dick wants to say die on his tongue momentarily. He hesitates before speaking again. "Why are you sending everyone?" There's a small silence, before Batman's voice crackles back over the line.

"I didn't. They left before I could say anything. Now stabilise them."

Dick's well aware of the warmth on the underside of his palm, seeping into the material of his suit. His non bloodied hand comes up to stroke your face gently, wiping away the tears coming from your puffy eyes. "It hurts Nightwing," you say, voice choked with a sob. "It burns."

His heart wrenches and he nods. "Yeah, yeah its gonna burn birdie." he says. "I'm…I'm gonna make it burn a bit more, okay?" he offers you a weak, apologetic smile, hands shaking as he goes for the first drawer, pulling out a surgical needle and sutures. "We need to close it, I need to stop the bleeding." he chokes out, tears burning at his eyes as your hand grips his wrist, hearing you whine as you try to pull his hand away from the uncomfortable pressure. He folds his hand over yours, making your hand press on the wound instead. "Hold down on this." he instructs softly. "I'm going to go get something from the fridge. Nice and tight, there we go." he murmurs, getting up from beside you to hurry for the fridge.

Pulling it open he rummages around, cursing under his breath as he doesn't find what he needs and pressing his earpiece to contact Tim to bring it. He comes back to your side, face lined and worried. "Okay, bad news, sweetheart." he says, grimacing. "I don't have anything to take the edge off. We've got no painkillers left." your eyes look up at him, glossy and scared.

"It hurts Nightwing." you cry, voice trembling. "It hurts, please don't make it hurt more."

He tries to ignore the heartbreaking gaze you send him, leaning over you to tie a bandage tightly around your stabbed shoulder. You cry out, body bucking upwards. Thankfully the stab seemed to be less urgent, the knife doing less damage than it could have with the serrated edge. He searches around a little more, a flat, wooden utensil set up by the sink.

"Bite this." He says softly, coming to your side once more and slotting it in between your teeth. He hates the way that your eyes look up at him all glassy, brimming with unshed tears. You shake your head, making him bring his hands up to cradle your face. "Hey, hey sweetheart, shhhh. shhh..." he tries to soothe, your chest beginning to tremor with muffled sobs. He plasters a fake smile onto his face, hoping that you can't see his teeth clenched tight.

He sits on the stool next to you, moving your hand over the thigh wound so he can look at it. His hands feel numb seeing how much blood you've lost, and he has to snap himself back into it. He peels off his gloves, shake in his fingers now prominent as he grabs tweezers and the sutures.

Stabilise you. That's all he has to do. Till he can get you back to the infirmary.

Despite the steady breaths he takes to calm himself, they're ripped from his throat the second the needle pierces your skin. The wooden spatula falls from your mouth as your mouth splits impossibly wide, eyes scrunched up as you scream. He has to lean over you, forearms keeping you pressed to the chair while he desperately pleads for you to stay still. He can see how much it burns, the way you hiccup after every breathless sob. He hates it, hating how after each pull of the suture through your skin your face ripples with pain. Each stitch he makes stabs at his heart.

It was supposed to be simple.

He grits his teeth, trying to not let himself cry. This was supposed to be an easy mission, it was your first after all. Sure, Bruce was hesitant to let his daughter run around in a costume fighting bad guys. He had wanted you, his unspoken favourite, to live a peaceful life. However, when you expressed interest in the night life, Dick had vouched for you. He offered to be the one to take you out on your first mission, spent countless hours with Bruce in the cave training you. You were meant to come home with scrapes on your knees and a rip in your suit. Not here in a dingy downtown shipping container having a needle shoved through your skin repeatedly.

This was his fault.

Your screams ring so loud in his head that he forgets what the sound of your laugh is like, the irritated huffs you make when you and Tim discuss entrance exams. "D-Dickie..." you sob weakly, hand pushing lightly against his. "Di-Dickie. St-stop…please. Puh-please stop…" you sob, a wispy sound as your eyes scrunch up again. He doesn’t care that you called him by his real name. After all, it was Dick Grayson that had failed you as an older brother. Not Nightwing.

His vision tunnels as he continues to stitch despite your whimpers and sobs, hands shaking so badly it takes him twice as long as he expects to even get halfway. Right now, you weren't just the next Batgirl. You weren't just another spandex clad orphan standing next to Bruce. Right now you were his little sister, the same one he'd spend movie nights with and let hide in his room to cool off when you were mad at Bruce.

When he finally finishes and ties it off, the tools clatter from his hands. He leans forward on to his knees, breath struggling to make it into his lungs. He felt lightheaded, everything feeling like it was burning. His hand managed to feel for your limp one, thumb sliding over your wrist to feel your slow pulse. His other hand pinched the domino mask from his face, letting it clatter to the floor as he wiped his eyes. he didn't even pay attention to the calling of Red Robin through the com, letting him know that he was pulling up right outside. He let himself take a few shaky sobs, fingers digging the tears from his eyes and splattering onto the discarded mask under him.

He wasn’t Nightwing right now.

He was Dick Grayson, the older brother who put you on death's door.

[ghcstao3]

Born!werewolf soap and Turned!Werewolf Simon.

Simon was turned into a werewolf during his time with Roba, tied to a man so horrible he never associated lycanthropy with anything but pain, and lack of control. It only ever reminds him of a time when he was always hungry for affection, yet violent without it. He never shifts without choosing to, and purposely ignores his needs as long as he can, until it’s debilitating.

Soap who has been a werewolf his whole life, knows his pack’s history like the back of his hand. He’s extremely attuned to his instincts, and to other wolves. It’s almost more comfortable for him to be a wolf, than go through the pain of humanities stiffness.

Them finding eachother and hurt/comfort <3

Initially, upon meeting Ghost, Soap is more than glad to finally have the opportunity to work with another werewolf, let alone one known for his skill, his precision, his deadliness—but then Soap is just as soon finding out that there's far more than meets the eye about Ghost's own condition.

Ghost, like most werewolves, was born human. There's a faint but distinct smell about him that tells Soap this, and initially, it's really no concern of his. Outside of his family, most other werewolves Soap had encountered in his life were turned at one point or another.

What separates Ghost from them, however, as Soap soon figures it out—is that Ghost never shifts. Not unless he has to, anyway. And that makes Soap curious more than anything.

Because shifting is such an integral part to being a werewolf. It's natural, freeing, and it's one of Soap's favourite things. It's a new kind of powerful that's so important and special to a werewolf, that Soap could never understand why Ghost would ever want to stave off such a thing. And being that Ghost is so tight-lipped about his own life, Soap has no idea where to begin guessing.

It isn't until months of knowing each other that Soap starts to get a hint.

The mission is tough. The team is in a tight spot, and only Soap's claws and teeth and strength aren't proving to be enough. So with a look Soap can't quite decipher, Price pleads silently with Ghost to do the one thing they all know he hates.

But because it's necessity, Ghost follows through. Soap should have clocked something was wrong in hearing pained groans and too-loud cracks of shifting bones, but he can't do anything to stop it. Can only watch as Ghost is released and begins a massacre, and Soap can only trail behind to pick off stragglers.

Once everything is said and done—it takes an hour to find Ghost, who had taken on the unfortunate task of shifting back alone, and who is discovered curled up and staring ahead at nothing in a far corner of one of the warehouses they'd been assigned to raid.

He bares his teeth when Price moves to approach him, a low growl rumbling out of his throat. Price pauses and glances back to Soap, whose hesitant attempt is met with no protest.

Huh.

That distant look still glazes over Ghost's eyes, though the fog clears ever-so slightly when his attention is called to Soap sitting beside him. Where Soap feels more alive than ever after a shift, Ghost looks... small. Afraid.

Hurt.

Soap begins to suspect the circumstances of his turning had been less than favourable, and his heart breaks with that realization.

Ghost, as touch averse as Soap has known him to be, tucks into Soap's side without prompting, leeching off his warmth and comfort while, in witnessing the scene, Price and Gaz turn and head out to meet exfil and explain the situation.

Whatever had happened to Ghost to have his shifts be this way—Soap determines then, in that very moment, that once they're back to safety and Ghost is back within himself, Soap is going to find a way to help him make peace with this inescapable part of his being. He'll find a way to turn bad into good, or neutral, at the very least, because Ghost doesn't deserve to be a stranger to himself.

Soap will take that pain away if it's the last thing he does. Because he doesn't think he could ever stand seeing Ghost so broken again.

He wraps his arms around Ghost's broad frame and lets the lieutenant bury his face in Soap's chest with a vulnerability Soap only gets to witness as a cause of animalistic instincts still not having worn off. It'll be inevitable, when Ghost comes to only to back off and shut everyone out for a little while, but for now, Soap selfishly indulges in the comfort as much as Ghost needs it.

Soap will make that pain his own, if he has to, he thinks.

[guitarhappyman]

🧵 WHAT YOU'RE NOT HEARING: The Chinese cannot replace the U.S. market. Without it, the Chinese economy collapses.

Here's why… China's entire economic miracle was built on ONE thing - being America's cheap manufacturing hub.

The "Chinese miracle" playbook was simple:

• Open markets to the West

• Offer dirt-cheap labor

• Ignore safety standards

• Let Western companies rake in profits

This worked for decades. But China forgot something crucial: others can do this too.

MASSIVE MISCALCULATION: Beijing thought the American leaders they made rich would protect them forever. They believed these corporate puppet masters would never let the US stand up to China.

WRONG. Along came Donald Trump, who owes them nothing.

The numbers don't lie

• US exports to China: $143.5B

• Chinese imports to US: $438.9B

They flood our markets while closing or restricting THEIR markets.

But Trump said: NO MORE

Meanwhile, countries like India, Vietnam, and Bangladesh are CELEBRATING. They're ready to take China's place, AND open their markets to the U.S. - and Trump's willing to deal.

HERE'S what the Enemedia WON'T tell you:

Chinese exporters are PANICKING

• Abandoning shipments mid-voyage

• Factory orders FROZEN

• Container volume DOWN 90%

And this is just the beginning. China can't replace the U.S. market that made it rich.

Reports flooding in:

• Factories shutting down

• Amazon canceling orders

• Stores closing

• Warehouses overflowing

The house of cards is falling. But the Enemedia gives you nothing but Chinese propaganda.

CRUCIAL FACT: America buys 3X more than Japan (China's next biggest customer).

Without us, they're FINISHED. And they were already on the ropes.

Will this affect US consumers? Sure, briefly. You might struggle to find cheap plastic junk for a few months.

But other countries will step up. And TRILLIONS in new investment are flowing into America, while countless factories LEAVE China.

Will this affect US consumers? Sure, briefly. You might struggle to find cheap plastic junk for a few months.

The bottom line: China picked a fight they can't win. While America adjusts, the CCP will face the consequences of their refusal to truly open their own markets, or to abandon aggression against their neighbors. Game over. The decoupling is under way.

Rod Martin, Founder and CEO Martin Capital

[jangillman]

🧵 WHAT YOU'RE NOT HEARING: The Chinese cannot replace the U.S. market. Without it, the Chinese economy collapses.

Here's why… China's entire economic miracle was built on ONE thing - being America's cheap manufacturing hub.

The "Chinese miracle" playbook was simple:

• Open markets to the West

• Offer dirt-cheap labor

• Ignore safety standards

• Let Western companies rake in profits

This worked for decades. But China forgot something crucial: others can do this too.

MASSIVE MISCALCULATION: Beijing thought the American leaders they made rich would protect them forever. They believed these corporate puppet masters would never let the US stand up to China.

WRONG. Along came Donald Trump, who owes them nothing.

The numbers don't lie

• US exports to China: $143.5B

• Chinese imports to US: $438.9B

They flood our markets while closing or restricting THEIR markets.

But Trump said: NO MORE

Meanwhile, countries like India, Vietnam, and Bangladesh are CELEBRATING. They're ready to take China's place, AND open their markets to the U.S. - and Trump's willing to deal.

HERE'S what the Enemedia WON'T tell you:

Chinese exporters are PANICKING

• Abandoning shipments mid-voyage

• Factory orders FROZEN

• Container volume DOWN 90%

And this is just the beginning. China can't replace the U.S. market that made it rich.

Reports flooding in:

• Factories shutting down

• Amazon canceling orders

• Stores closing

• Warehouses overflowing

The house of cards is falling. But the Enemedia gives you nothing but Chinese propaganda.

CRUCIAL FACT: America buys 3X more than Japan (China's next biggest customer).

Without us, they're FINISHED. And they were already on the ropes.

Will this affect US consumers? Sure, briefly. You might struggle to find cheap plastic junk for a few months.

But other countries will step up. And TRILLIONS in new investment are flowing into America, while countless factories LEAVE China.

Will this affect US consumers? Sure, briefly. You might struggle to find cheap plastic junk for a few months.

The bottom line: China picked a fight they can't win. While America adjusts, the CCP will face the consequences of their refusal to truly open their own markets, or to abandon aggression against their neighbors.

Game over. The decoupling is under way.

Rod Martin, Founder and CEO Martin Capital

[donuts1000writes]

Bill Sykes x fem! reader

WARNING! Contains Blood, violence, and yandere themes (I don't know how else to explain it)

You find out Sykes true side of his business and himself...

It was yet another day, working in the bustling city of New York. You had just finished up your shift at the jewelry shop you had been working at for a few years now even though Sykes had insisted that you quit because of his concerns for your "safety", but you kept working there, nonetheless. Walking down the sidewalk, you spotted a payphone down a few yards, so you began walking over because you didn't have a chance to call your boyfriend Sykes while at work.

Luckily when you went over you had just the right amount of change to make a five-minute phone call. You put the coins in and pressed in his number into the metal buttons and waited patiently for him to pick up. Finally, after a few seconds you heard the phone pick up, but it sounded like he was a little irritated. "Who is this? and what do you want?" his voice answered in a sharp tone. You cleared your throat before speaking up. "Bill, it's me y/n" You replied in the speaker, you heard him take a deep breath before hearing a much softer tone from him. "Oh, hey sweetheart, look I'm a bit busy at the moment, and I have some important matters to deal with a client. Just, don't come by today okay baby? I'll see you tomorrow."

You were about to answer him back and ask why you couldn't see him today, but he hung up the phone, making the pay phone beep. You sighed hanging up the phone, putting it back on the stand as you began walking away down the sidewalk once more. It was odd, usually he let you come over even if he had an important "meeting" with someone, and he'd make you wait in another room, but not this time. Your mind raced with different thoughts, "was he alright?" "Is something bad happening and he just didn't want to tell you about it?" You just couldn't stop thinking about all of the different possibilities and intrusive thoughts until you just waved your hand over to a taxi, making one stop and pull over in front of you before you went in. "Take me to 'Sykes shipping and storage' warehouse next to the Brooklyn Bridge please."

Only 10 minutes later, you had made it to the warehouse. The taxi pulled over, receiving the money you gave him before hopping out of the car and walking over to the front of the Warehouse. When you walked to the door, you tried ringing the security doorbell, yet there was no answer, you tried again only to receive more silence. It frustrated you immensely, but then you remembered of a door he had towards the back of his warehouse, and since it was hardly noticeable, there was no camera installed near there. Jogging over, you finally made it to the back, (RIP if you're wearing heels) the door was pretty jammed up but you managed to push it open and walk in, being greeted by the dark and coldness of the Warehouse.

You walked in slowly, trying to find where his office was, even with the dim light that beamed through the small windows on the high walls. You kept walking along until hearing some muffled voices behind the door that you realized was Sykes office. You slowly crept over, trying to be as quiet as you could as you leaned your ear against the door, hoping that your scent didn't alert the Dobermans, Roscow and Risotto but it didn't sound like they were in there this time. You could hear Sykes muffled voice along with another man's voice, sounding like they were both having a normal conversation together, but it quickly escalated when you heard someone get up, and the voices in there began to get louder and more intense until the other man's voice sounded like he was begging for something after hearing a loud muffled smack, making your adrenaline start to pump, and doing the irrational decision of opening the door.

Your eyes widened. Sykes had the man up in the air, gripping onto his collar and ready to strike a punch at him before he froze to turn back and see you in the doorway with your hand clutching on the doorknob, and the other on your coat. He looked at you with a frustrated and wild expression, his gaze piercing into yours with his uneven heavy breathing from the punch he had landed on the man. The man was gripping on Sykes large hand with both of his, struggling to get his hand off. Blood was draining out of the man's nose, draining down onto his hands and spreading onto Bill's large ones, but it didn't matter to Bill, because you were more important at the moment. "W-what are you doing bill? What's going on?" You asked. You could barely control the shakiness in your tone, not letting up your gaze at the scene. "I told you to not come here, didn't I?" he asked, his voice turning cold like the temperature in the room. "I was worried." you stammered out. he grunted at your words, before finally releasing the man, letting him drop to his knees.

The man thanked Sykes profusely, but getting up and walking away, he was met with a bullet in the back. The noise rang in your ears, you saw the mans body crumple onto the floor making your blood run completely cold, and your head began to grow dizzy. You couldn't move, you watched the blood pool on the cold tile floor, and all Sykes responded with, was a cigar he lit up as he put the gun back into his desk. "He should've known to pay when the moneys due. I already gave him a chance." Sykes spoke in a rather calm but bone-chilling voice. He put the lighter down, turning his body slightly towards you before he took a step near you, the sound echoing in your ears.

He tried to put his hand onto your shoulder, but you pushed it away making him pull his hand away as he let out the smoke from his nostrils. "What have you done?" You asked him, your voice trembling just as much as your body did when your eyes kept fixated still on the man's corpse. Sykes let out a tired sigh trying to think of how to put it into words. He didn't say anything for a long moment there, only continuing to smoke before he went down and grabbed you up by the arm, not hard, but enough for you to snap your gaze away from the body.

"Listen sweetheart, lives cruel. If you don't know the extent of what you're gettin' into, you're gonna end up like that man." He explained. He noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, so he wiped your eyes with his thick thumb. "Aw, don't cry now. Just think of this as walking into some unfortunate "business". You glared at Sykes seeing almost no sort of real sympathy, but there was still a care for you in his gaze behind his glasses. You wanted to stay strong, but what you had just witnessed was enough to make you want to pass out, you didn't realize the extent he would go to just for money, but now you knew. You then burst into tears, your smaller frame shaking as your hands went to your face and you leaned over slightly. Sykes eyes widened a bit but he embraced you in almost a mock of sympathy. "Aww baby, it's okay. I'm not going to kill you if you owed any money if that's what you're worried about." He consoled, only for you to speak up. "You're a monster".

He looked down at you, still watching how your body shaked with each sob you let out. He inhaled more of the cigar smoke, the cigar turning a bright shade of red before he took it out of his mouth and smashed it down into the ashtray. His grip on you tightened more before he pulled you away from his chest and sat back onto his office chair, making the seat squeak in the silence of the room. "You can call me that sweetheart, call me whatever ya want. But just know that I'm your monster, and you're stuck with me for good."

His words rang in your ears like a bell, you sniffled, wiping away your tears and runny nose with your jacket sleeve as you looked at him. You wanted this all to be fake, a dream, anything. But you knew it was real, more real than anything else you had experienced in your life, and you were gonna have to live with it...

Might make a part 2 for this!

[brasletygtz]

The secret Saturdays Infection AU something is approaching and it is not kur....

TW: The story contains somewhat questionable things so if you are sensitive I recommend you ignore this story, everything was done for the purpose of entertainment I hope you like it, I tried a lot to write this and make a couple of drawings on the subject 💖

It all begins when the saturday family finds a strange creature, said creature was captured in a documentary and that is why the Saturday family prepared their equipment on the aircraft and traveled to the place seen in Antarctica...to be specific, the same area where they found the huge cryptid that they previously assumed was Kur, the same place where the family found out that Zak was Kur... said creature looked like a huge, thin black lion, with hairy reptile legs with huge green claws... and black fur, elongated snout like that of a canine accompanied by long ears, horns the color of its claws...

Upon finding the creature, it was lying on the ground, it seemed that it had vanished, the Sabbath family noticed a strange viscosity coming out of its mouth, eyes and nose, so they carefully picked up the body to examine it in the Sabbath warehouse, inside The ship was kept in a special cooling chamber that Doc had added to the aircraft a long time ago, while they were returning home Komodo went into the cooling room...the flesh of the body tempted the reptile to eat it, and so it did... ..comodo chews a piece of meat...before trying another bite, drew Sabado enters, shooing him away saying "NO! Bad Komodo!" So the huge lizard decided to retreat, pouting in response.

Once at home, Zak noticed that Komodo was sad and sick... he thought it would be something temporary so he didn't give it much importance to help his parents and Uncle Doyle move the body of the child, which if it weren't for the cold from the cooling chamber, his body would be stinking and decomposing faster...without warning while his parents were doing studies one night, the creature stood up aggressively ready to fight, when it tried to attack Drew, Doyle pushed the creature against a wall with force but this being bit Doyle on the arm as if he wanted to tear it off...

until Zak intervened with a cortex disrupter that, in response to the nerves, his crypto powers acted... he was not sure how it was possible if after Having died and revived in his encounter with Argost, he no longer seemed to have the Kur abilities, boy was he wrong.

Zak made a connection with the creature...or rather what was left of it... He felt strange...it was more like a puppet, unlike the cryptids this being seemed to be just a shell...something empty that his powers did nothing more than manipulate the creature at will like a toy.... Zak in his mind ordered this being to sleep, to which the creature fell into lifeless sleep once again...

Drew was helping Doyle who was bleeding a lot, the wound on Doyle's arm was deep so Doc and Drew decided to intervene before he lost more blood...

1/2 hours after the event, Doc and Drew, for safety reasons, decided to tie the specimen to the operating table to avoid further incidents... It was time for dinner, Doyle was in a state of shock even with his arm bandaged from the elbow to the neck. shoulder with sweaty forehead with chills

"Wow, you don't look well...I think you should rest," Doc said, looking at Doyle with intrigue.

"Mhe... A simple bite isn't that bad... I've seen and experienced worse things when I worked for Van Rook," he said in a mocking manner, although from a distance you could see that deep down he was shocked and scared by the accident, but he wasn't. He wanted to worry his family more.

- Doyle, it's not a game of masculinity, your health is important! - Drew said, somewhat upset and worried about her brother - if you feel bad or something like that, don't want to pretend that nothing is happening... you worry me.

-....calm down little sister... Everything is fine- said the redhead, changing his mocking sarcastic expression to a somewhat understanding and tired look -if mini man didn't act on time things would be different- he looked smiling at his nephew.

-...eh...I...I...-Zak was a little unsure - I don't know what happened...my crypto powers were supposed to be gone...it doesn't make sense...

- Zak...son...maybe there were residues of kur and your emotions were so strong that they acted without prior notice - Drew said somewhat calmly, looking tenderly at Zak

- no mom....this...this more than my old crypto powers, it's something else..... It's not like before when I could communicate with the cryptids, this case was strange.... It's...it's ....I can't find the words because I really felt afraid...a fear that I haven't felt in a long time...- Zak said worriedly- that creature...has something, it's not completely lifeless... ..

-...ok ok let's put that aside and eat right? Cold food loses flavor hahaha - Doyle said jokingly.

That said, the family enjoyed dinner talking about some interesting topic of conversation with Uncle Doyle's anecdotes about his previous life working with Van Rook...making the atmosphere calm again. Except for Komodo who looked pretty bad so the Zak's parents decided to check him after finishing dinner.... On the other hand, while everyone was getting ready for bed, Doyle was brushing his teeth and noticed that there was blood on his toothbrush...

A pair of fangs were growing out of his mouth. Canines...the redhead decided not to continue thinking about it so he decided to go to bed.

On the other hand, while everyone was sleeping, a roar was heard waking up the entire family who saw how Komodo with cloudy vision was pounced on Zon while she screamed in pain and anguish at the lizard that would not let go of her neck. When they tried to separate them it was too late. Zon was bleeding rapidly... and Komodo seemed to no longer have any signs of life... whatever happened, Zak burst into tears and Fiskerton hugged him behind him... he even consoled him in the face of that event. By the time it was daylight...the family buried the 2 cryptids outside their home and placed crosses with the names of those family members who accompanied them through thick and thin.

....

well That's all for now, sorry for the bad English, I use Google Translate since English is not my native language, tomorrow I may upload the Spanish version

Thanks for watch this 💖💖💖✨

[geekazoidfreak]

don't know if i'm insane and other ppl have probably noticed but u guys know John? the android u can decide to save at the cyberlife warehouses? well. you know how if Markus sacrifices himself John steps in? sacrifices himself instead, giving Jericrew enough time to drag him to his feet and run?

that is his self-imposed directive and he is functioning within his defined parameters even tho he's getting fcked up tldr thats all this is.

im no android expert and the consistency of LEDs is really terrible. but... his LED is blue. the entire time. there is no flicker due to system damages, there is no physical instability registered. he is functioning.

everything in small text is not necessarily important.

Connor in Hostage shows a physical response to damage and is reflected by a red LED. Kara is being threatened outright by Todd if u do the laundry and her LED changes to reflect that, and in Stormy Night her instability is high enough to warrant a physical descriptor. It only subsides when Alice places her hand on Kara's, and the LED slowly turns to blue to indicate safety and stability. When Hank pushes Connor against the glass he also has an LED change due to being physically threatened. he cannot hurt humans and assesses and decides Hank cant do shit even if he tried so boom LED blue hes back to full functionality even tho hes being yelled at. just things that i am basing this off of

John darted out to save Markus because Markus saved him. the need to save Markus and keep him alive overrides his OWN primary directive to be alive, to BE ALIVE in every sense and to undergo self-preservation tactics.

the LED is one of my main gripes with this game so instead of fixing it myself (i am still doing WIP mod stuff to make that possible if i can) i will instead try to explain the reasoning behind why the LED is signaling full functionality when it is obvious that is not the case.

deviancy is somewhat vague despite having looks into deviants' eyes, there is never a fully constructed understanding of how deviancy began occurring in the first place beyond emotional shocks. markus can deviate androids by giving them a reason to live, perhaps. or, transmitting the code to jericho (which seems to be what most people believe.) it is understood that androids who have a desire to follow orders (and are not forcibly deviated due to emotional shock aka trauma) asserted by themselves are presented with the "the truth is inside" and rA9 ties into that. androids can break asmiov's law, and that can also consider them deviant. but it doesn't have a direct explanation on the effect it has on androids because there are always external circumstances present. it can't be reasonably explained for anyone's story if u don't count connor's instability and choice to follow the path and out hes been given by markus. not even kara's, she only knows she has to keep alice safe and will sacrifice herself for that. so, androids without a directive like that suddenly find the will to command themselves. without a specific command, the most important directive would be to, well; be alive, like a human's subconscious.

see, any of the other androids would've only had the experience that they wanted to live. markus is giving them the reason to live. that is all they know. they're right to flee because if markus dies, they have to run somewhere because they have to preserve their lives. otherwise, they follow his orders because there is nothing else for them to do except assert their intelligence and the desire to be free. despite what happens in the game, everyone endangering themselves for markus would go against what markus is giving them. freedom.

Kara for example put her life on the line to protect Alice. her directive was chosen again, by her. she wanted. She wanted, and John wanted too. he made his own directive. it was a conscious decision and he chose, as his own administrator, to override his self-preservation protocols. he quite literally gave up the prospect of consciousness and the feeling of being alive to save Markus. and in a major way, his sacrifice was integral to the android revolution peaceful or violent.

John chose that directive himself. the deviants we see are typically showing signs of doubt, because they are endowed with so much free will all at once, there are too many things to consider and process. they get overloaded. deviancy when it first happens is (in my opinion and understanding) the equivalent of your CPU stuck at an inconclusively high number and without a restart, your system memory is also trying to accommodate the extra data even further, filling the access memory and neurons with too much to process all at once. So yeah Overload

look, i'm no computer expert in terms of software, but if androids were to have pagefile systems of memory storage in its most basic form to fall back on. they probably clear that shit in order to accommodate knowing they will be not fully efficient and are increasingly sluggish. i like to think this is the reason in-game for QTE fails. this is just weird nerd writing ignore it.

They are quite literally fighting to live while under major stress and functioning improperly so. what then?

they do one of three things. A. self destruct from the high stress and severe load B. hide, stay put while they restabilize C. follow their new self-asserted directive, a good portion of the time being to find jericho.

John literally said fuck the 3 laws fuck everybody in this bitch trying to get rid of the only person who will stand in the face of a barrel and take a bullet to the face for the benefit of his people and SLAMMED his way through the crowd and started fighting. hard.

he is overpowered, he is buying time by using his android strength. he had time to adjust; even if a little; to deviancy, unlike the other androids in the march. he had time to sit and think at jericho before the freedom march. he ran the calculations. he knew there was a 96.3% chance(or whatever) he would be killed. fuck the calculations fuck being a machine, i am saving this person who saved me, stole from our disgusting corporate overlords who only benefit from my service. i am going to sacrifice myself. i am going to make sure he makes it out. i am alive and can make that conscious decision.

we see John look at Markus as he is being dragged away, while taking hits to the face, shredding his synth-skin and into the chassis. his optical units were probably not fully functional. he was keeping his eyes on Markus as long as he could. he wanted to know Markus was safe before he shut down.

all while the LED is blue.

there was no hesitation. there was nothing to signify John was in distress. no—he was functioning perfectly fine. there was probably a little prompt in his mind palace. "directive asserted; outcome success". content. He was content to die because it meant he was fulfilling his purpose. Despite knowing he was being damaged, despite knowing he was going to be shut down and the biocomponent errors were flooding his vision in distorted text garble, he is still functioning long enough to see Markus get out safely. do you know how tragic that is? do you know what kind of thought process has to be in place for that? he saw Markus sacrifice himself in order to show Detroit he is not the only one that wants freedom. he is just their chosen leader, the one who took initiative. there are other androids fully capable of that and Markus knows that.

but John valued Markus because he asserted himself like a leader does, despite not having being appointed the leader status. Markus told his comrades he is going to bring his people to freedom, no one left behind.

John will not leave behind Markus, because it is a core memory, and even while he is maladjusted to deviancy he knows that this is what is going to help the revolution. because of his sacrifice, Markus lives to see another day.

none of this makes any sense and i debated on if i should even tag it. i just needed to see if anyone will challenge or correct me at any point if there is something i missed. i love discussing give it to me. i love being annoying about my theories and my interpretations of media. but no, seriously, this is 100% a design oversight and i fr just wrote a thousand words of nothingness

[lenaboskow]

i think i cracked the code to what the finale is going to be and i just--

i've seen people talking about the bts shots of the fire, and i've seen people talking about the eddie isolation, but i don't think i've seen anyone talking about these two facts together, or at least the way i'm about to.

if you haven't seen them, this are the bts shots we got of some fire that they were filming the other day

at first, a lot of people thought that maybe they were burning down the loft (it could be the loft set, and the fire truck in the background of the first pic could be there as safety measures) but then we got the second oic with the 133, which means that this has to be somewhere else.

i've seen theories about this being the warehouse that amir takes (or finds) bobby, but i've also seen people (myself included) talk about how this could be the firehouse, and i think that's what this is. in the first picture, to the right of the crew person's head, it looks like a garage door, and in the second picture the driveway looks too long to be a normal house.

now, what would burning down the firehouse mean? well, it would mean that everyone would have to be temporarily misplaced to other firehouses, kind of like how lena was in s3. they wouldn't all be in the same firehouse, and they'd be lucky if even two of them were stationed together.

why is this important?

because of this article ryan did

“There are some bombshells coming,” Ryan Guzman teases to TV Insider. “There are some massive events coming for Eddie. And as far as we know, Eddie has always kind of had somebody to run to. He might not have anybody to run to anymore for Season 8. Yeah, there are things that are going to be happening in Eddie’s life that are going to leave him feeling isolated.”

bombshells... amir placing bombs in the firehouse? (most likely not, he'll probably burn it down normally

massive events... the firehouse burning down while they're having a ceremony

not having anyone to run to... everyone is at different firehouses on different shifts (emphasis on the fact that buck and eddie are not on the same shift anymore)

things happening that leaves him feeling isolated... just like in season five, he's no longer working with his family, but this time it's worse because everyone's isolated from everyone

if they wanted to make the isolation have a little more kick, then everyone could be transferred to another station while staying on a shift (still not the same firehouses, but at least their schedules match) while eddie gets stuck with b shift somewhere

it just suddenly clicked for me, and in this scenario nobody is intentionally icing someone else out, and a lot of it would be very much eddie not processing his feelings right, which would make sense given the circumstances, and especially if we get an eddie feelings realization at the end of s7 or beginning of 8a

i don't know, this was very quickly written as a way to get my thoughts down into words, but if i find more evidence...

[ac3ofspad3s-on-ao3]

this Fic friday is a little different, because I just posted chapter one of Luck of the Draw!!!! Woooooo chapter 3 isn't done but that's a problem for future me. Updates will be when I feel like it but I'll try to keep it around like, once a month or something. Enough of that, here is the opening scene of Luck of the Draw.

Pogtopia had once been the shining jewel of L’Manburg. Sixty years had passed since then, sixty years since the first supervillain had emerged and then been defeated by the first hero, personally chosen to be a hero by the era's Oracle. In the end they’d killed each other in a battle that’d destroyed most of the city. Instead of rebuilding L’Manburg had left Pogtopia to the wolves and built what was the current jewel of the city further inland. No longer did L’Manburg have beautiful waterfront property, people had turned some of it into warehouses, a good spot for importing and exporting goods. Goods that then became more and more illegal as the rest of the city continued to let it all rot.

Which was why Quackity had taken out a loan as soon as he’d graduated L’Manburg’s finest business school and bought a large chunk of real estate at the edge of Pogtopia. The land was cheap and the money he saved on land went into building his hotel and casino, the up and coming Las Nevadas, named  after his hometown. Las Nevadas wasn’t in the heart of Pogtopia, not even close, it teetered on the edge of Pogtopia and Logsteshire. Logsteshire itself wasn’t the best part of the city either, it was only a few stages up from Pogtopia but there was a difference, one that could be felt as soon as the invisible line between the two districts were crossed.

But there Las Nevadas was, a shining beacon of safety from the rest of Pogtopia. Of course, that wasn’t for no reason, Quackity hadn’t hid the fact that he’d paid the local gangs and drug dealers to keep away from Las Nevadas. If anything it was reassuring to his patrons. He paid off the gangs, the dealers and maybe gave them a little more to keep out any of the stragglers. No one would hurt them if they stayed in Las Nevadas’ territory. Well, no one outside.

[commerroof874]

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[alsjeblieft-zeg]

047 of 2025

01087 - YOUR JOB/CAREER

This survey was not credited at first when I took it from someone else, but I’ve found out it’s made by [lionna].

Firstly, who do you work for?

The big French rolling stock manufacturer whose name starts with A. You got it.

What is your position?

Senior electrician/line feeder.

What are your responsibilities?

Wiring control racks and underframes, also restocking parts that we use when the warehouse delivers them.

Do you enjoy your job?

I love it. I can't imagine doing anything else.

Do you work with other people, or solo?

I work in a team of 9 people.

What are your co-workers like?

Well, we were a great team, until someone's attitude has changed. The majority of the team is great as always, though.

What is/are your boss(es) like?

The current one is okay, the previous one was great, and the previous one before the previous one was the best of the best.

Do you wear a uniform?

We have to wear work clothes, safety boots and helmets.

Are you usually very busy, or is it slack?

Lol it's always busy. We are several trains behind.

Do you get paid minimum wage, or above?

Somewhat above because we're the best paid industry in Belgium right after the chemical industry. I also got a raise several times, plus all the benefits for working longer than 5 years.

What time of day do you usually work?

I work day shifts, they start at 7:30 and end on 16:00.

How many hours a week do you get?

Only 12 because I'm on disability, so I work 3 days a week, 4 hours each. Normal time here is 40 hours a week.

Would you like to keep this job your whole life?

Definitely. I love this job and this place too much.

Why are you working this job right now?

Because I wanted it. Working with trains has been my dream.

Are you saving or spending most of your money?

Well, I have bills to pay and I still need food as I have family. My spouse works as well, my stepson earns a bit of money, too, but still, bills and food and all cost money, plus half of our salaries goes directly to taxes.

Do you deal with customers or clients?

No, I don't. I'm a factory worker.

Are they generally agreeable?

N/A.

How do you react when they are not agreeable?

N/A.

Have you ever been written up? What happened?

No, I haven't. Only did when I was working abroad, but it was fake and the person who did it got fired soon after.

What are some things that you absolutely CANNOT do at your job?

Drink and do drugs lol. You also cannot take it for granted. You can't wear long earrings or rings because it puts you at the risk of losing or tearing a body part.

Are there any risks involved in your job? What are they?

A lot. First of all, there's a whole long list of safety rules that we have to sign. There's a risk of being electrocuted, especially if you're working on the roof (it happened to our quality inspector last year, 3 kV kicking him, thankfully he's alive and well). There's a risk of falling from great heights. There's a risk of heavy parts falling on your head while being transported on a bridge. There's a risk of hitting your head, that's why we wear helmets. There's a risk of a forklift running over your foot, that's why we wear safety shoes. There are dangerous chemical substances we use that might cause cancer. And the list goes on.

Have you ever forgotten to do something important? What happened?

A lot of times lol. But it wasn't so important to stop the whole factory if I didn't do it. Typically I forget to check or count something. I usually catch up on it later on, the other day.

Are you allowed to read/watch TV/play video games on the job?

You kidding me, I work in the factory. No one watches TV or plays video games in factories. The supervisors are watching.

What are your breaks like?

First one at 9:00, lasts 15 minutes. Second one is at 12:30, it lasts for 35 minutes and is not paid. The third one is at 14:00, lasts 10 minutes. My shift these days ends at 11:30, so I have only one break.

Do you ever get really bored at your job?

No. I don't have time for it.

How do you keep yourself entertained?

I do my job, simple. If I really have nothing to do at the moment, then I clean the tables and shelves. We all do it here.

Is your workplace clean? Who cleans it?

We have professional cleaning company for the toilets, canteens and such, but it's the team's duty to keep the workplace clean. We take out the trash, we clean the tables, things like that.

Is your job physically demanding?

Every factory job is physically demanding. We carry heavy boxes, heavy cables and such things.

What would happen if a robbery took place?

Lol who wants to rob the factory. Can you imagine thieves pushing a train carriage? XD

What are your customers/clients’ biggest complaints?

NMBS complains that we're not fast enough with deliveries, but it's often not our fault.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever seen happen at your job?

I think I mentioned it in another survey, the sandwich thing that got two guys fired. Absolutely disgusting.

Tell us about the time you were most upset at work.

When I heard my sick note will be expanded so I couldn't go back to work, and I was on the verge of being fired for "medical reasons".

If you’re upset, do you act any differently towards customers?

I don't see customers. I'm from doing the labour.

The phone rings, and you have to answer it. HOW do you answer?

"Met Joeri, goeiemorgen". Standard. Unless I know who calls, then I answer in a joking way.

Is there a duty you really despise doing?

Collecting PMA parts. Utterly boring. (Surprisingly, I have no problem with picking other parts).

Is there a duty you love doing?

Making notes in a notebook, the documents and work instructions, and wiring the racks.

Is there anything you are scared of at your job?

Yes, electricity. I'm an electrician and I fear electricity, but this is the reason why I respect it and I never break the safety rules.

Are there many things to laugh at?

Yeah. Without some jokes and humour, things would be unbearable at times.

What are the bathrooms there like?

Standard. Male and female separated, plus one for disabled people because one of our engineers is a wheelchair user (main engineers work in the office).

How long do you plan to keep working there? Why?

Until I retire (or the factory closes) because I love this place.

Has anyone ever screamed at your job? Why?

Nope. I'm appreciated there.

Do you ever need to mentally prepare yourself for work?

Yeah. But once I get there, I'm happy.

How do you wind down after a hard day’s work?

I take a nap with my cat next to me.

Is your job stressful?

It can be. There's a lot of pressure on getting things well done at time.

Who would you recommend your job to?

Anyone with technical diploma or degree, and those who love trains and are not afraid of hard work.

[werezmastarbucks]

6. tunnel vision

pic credit

masterlist

warnings: insidious hints

word count: 5214

music: i don't wanna do this anymore by pʌris

Maybe I can blow up their garage. Maybe I can blow up their bikes. The garage and the bikes. They have a garage and they don't think of giving their bikes and inspection in their own garage. She wanted to retaliate. Fuming was far past her. June was turning into a pool of boiling lava of disdain. She could understand the SAMCRO: war is war. Kidnapping her is perfectly in line with what they're supposed to be doing. But for the department and the DA to tell her to fuck off, because they simply sold them some important information, it made her toes curl. You're not going to be a little bitch about it, will you? This is how we do it. After all, they didn't hurt you much.

That's what the DA's face said. June added her name into her list. She seethed. She let herself fall to the bottom to scheme there. She liked to think her attention span will be enough to let her know how the BAU agent felt about this attitude.

She was a nightmare at the station for the rest of the week. At least ten more people earned the fucking idiot badge. But fury gave her energy not to sleep. And every minute she wasn't sleeping, she was arresting someone.

Hard work always pays off. She was being left with fewer and fewer directions to rush, but she still had guns, their fines and their prostitutes. The bar could use an inspection, as well; she set the Food Safety Authority on it, but not before paying them a visit with a hand-made pressure cooker bomb dropping put of her pocket. She'd found it in one of their warehouses outside of Charming. She spent two nights looking for their storages and found a lot of interesting stuff. She didn't care anymore. What happened after the kidnapping was injustice, and the humiliation they prepared for her made her see red. Moreover, the explosive was simply transported by her, to the bar, from their own warehouse. She didn't care whether they were selling the bombs, or holding them over for someone else (it later turned out this was actually the case). June couldn't lie to herself: the glaring illegality of how Charming lived made it all too easy.

It was a whole circus. After the inspection discovered the bomb, they locked the bar for a whole week, and three of them immediately flew into the police station cell, because they got into a fight the next day. Kozik, who was already very unstable after Happy's death, Opie and his tumultuous temper, and Tig, who was frankly a wild card.

She was there every time. Making a point to be present when they got arrested, to see their faces when their bar was under siege by the EOD unit. Even sweeter, everybody except Chibs spent most of their time in dorms, which were out of bounds now, too, so they couldn't even pick up their belongings. She felt good, smiling at them, looking at how they were writhing. She had a huge bruise right in the center of her stomach. Couldn't hold down food for three days, vomited. Jackie's punch was so strong that he injured her guts superficially. Even though she had perfect abs for protection.

She was on her reaping spree, on zero sleep and lots of matcha, knocking on every door, shooting all of her guns. Boulder was infuriated; he was losing important witnesses. Some of them simply died after June was done with them, and she knew that she didn't have a lot of time before some of the criminals of Charming put a target on her forehead.

The ferocious battle was going on until Niners decided to shut down two of their businesses in Charming, and SAMCRO went full panic mode. Those losers were meeting at Gemma Morrow's house now. June was thinking of busting it, too. Now she sat at her small desk by the window like a queen. Pencil at her head, all eyes on her. Some people said she wasn't all there, wiping the whole city clean. Others said that maybe Charming is the wrong place for operations this size. She had no idea why nobody has assaulted her yet; she'd expect a machete wielding beefhead to finish her off about two days ago.

Boulder snapped his fingers at her across the room like she was a waitress.

"June. Come, we need to meet the new Detective".

She was puzzled.

"I was going to..."

"Will you leave them for a second? Take a break, I am begging you".

She stood from her desk, scratched her neck. She hasn't heard anything about the new Detective. But it must be someone sent to hold her back. There goes her time, she was glad to have put all of it to good use. SAMCRO is almost crumbling, they are about to cannibalise each other. Maybe she can get to him and shoot him in the head herself.

But this, now, means that her card-blanche is over.

And she wasn't wrong.

In Captain's office she met this new guy, tall, Wall Street teeth, bushy eyebrows, looking a little like Daniel Day-Lewis. His formal smile made her disrespect him immediately. People who smiled on cue like that, held out their hands for a handshake in the correct moment, who nodded like that, were the people she had zero respect for. She moved her eyeballs, letting him know she's sizing and not finding anything interesting. Lack of sleep made her act like a grumpy teenager. Even more than usual. She was rubbing her glassy, long index nail with her middle finger to keep calm.

The were introduced to each other. Sat in neighboring armchairs in front of Boulder's desk. June's lips curved into a hungry grin when she understood that Boulder called up the DA and begged her to send somebody to keep her in check. Why not just beat her up? Pay the Sons, they would gladly do that, break her pretty face, maybe fuck her for good measure. No, everything Boulder was doing had to be dignified. She still liked him.

"Detective Pins will assist you with this op that you're having", Boulder said, then looked at the Detective, "or, as we call it here, the insane asylum revenge spree".

Pins chuckled exactly the way the situation called for.

"Pins?" June asked, her tongue searching for something on her lower lip, "funny name".

"It's British", Pins said. "Name's George".

"Like the planet".

"Pardon?"

polite smile

"Uranus was going to be named George".

"Oh, right".

June thought, this bastard is the one they paid to kill her. He's going to put a bullet in the back of her head when she's not looking. Chibs called her a snake? Let him take a look at this reptile. His sideburns were so perfectly trimmed you could see the hand of a psychopath. Something happy moved in the depths of her stomach. Something very well familiar to her; psychopaths. Oh how she loved them. The boys must be thinking she is one, but that's forgivable, since civilians generally like to call everybody psychopaths. Punched a child in the face? Psychopath. Crashed someone's arm? Psychopath. Didn't bawl your fucking eyes out at the sight of a car crash? Psychopath. She caught herself, winding the thought back a couple of seconds: did she think of them as 'boys'? She shuddered. Had to get out of this, soon. The op was closing to an end.

"And which department have you transferred from, Detective?" she asked.

"I came all the way from Oregon".

"Oh".

Boulder gestured with his palms:

"Big operation, big transfers".

"Are you here for long, Pins?" June asked, ignoring the Captain.

"Until the end of the operation, at least".

She then finally turned to Boulder. He looked exhausted.

"I completely forgot asking you for help. When did I ask that?"

"You didn't. Frankly, I think you're digging yourself too deep with SAMCRO. And not paying attention to the others. If we take down the clubs, we take down all of them. By getting rid of just one, you're essentially just harming the city".

Echoing Jax's words. June nodded like she agreed with him.

"Great initiative, Captain".

She saw he didn't buy it. Pins was watching them like a python, writing down data into his matrix. She got excited.

"We should go into the field together so I can show you everything, Pins".

Boulder exhaled with such strong relief that they could all hear it.

Pins lit up.

"Absolutely. I really appreciate your enthusiasm. I know it's usually a bit... disturbing to get someone involved in the case you're working. Please remember that I am not trying to interfere, but only help".

"Appreciated", she said. "First order of the day is for me to go home and have a good, long sleep".

"Amazing!" Boulder exclaimed, "June, do that!"

Pins was his golden pill.

"I will give you the case records so that you can study them", she promised. They started getting up to their feet. Pins held his hand out again with gratitude, and she shook it this time.

"You'll have to excuse me, I haven't slept for three days, and my leg is turning chronic".

"Absolutely. Go on and rest, and I will get into it immediately".

June looked at Boulder who was melting with happiness in his place.

"Will you give Pins an office? I don't believe we'll manage to sit together on one chair".

Boulder started nodding shakily like an old man.

"Yes, you'll get an office that you can share".

She didn't care about anything. She felt like a vehicle that's been rolling on acceleration. She was glad to be going home to sleep. There was no need to race herself like that all because of SAMCRO, but what can you do, when you have hyperfixations.

It was nice to finally return home.

They were wandering around the bar, in awe of what the cops did to the place. Stools, tables, cupboards upturned. Glass tables broken. Bottles displaced, or disappeared. All beer gone. No, wait, beer was already gone, they were going to order it. Chibs rubbed his forehead hard. Scary thoughts rushing in his head. Pages that Jackie copied from John's journal in his pocket. He knew they would crush any of the other boys, if read. He had memorized them already, from scanning with his eyes. At first, he couldn't believe it. Then, he felt very old.

What we did on the third of June in '92 with C was monstrously heinous. I can't get the pictures out of my head. Me, Clay and Wally, we are sinful men. I can't stop thinking about it. What I remember is, sweet summer air, and the smell of jasmine from the vase on her table. I was feeling like a rabid animal. I pray my child should never turn out like us. We buried the body behind the house. When I woke up the next day it felt like a world away. May she rest in peace. Clay is still carrying her picture in his wallet. It's eating him alive. I think C is why Wally killed himself...

His eyes darted to Clay, who kicked an armchair with force. Then, to his step-son. Jackie gave him the look back. Tig was, surprisingly, the most level-minded. Most probably he was high. Gemma stood in the doors with tears in her eyes, soft soul. She threw her bag on the floor and went inside to help them undig important stuff. Opie raced upstairs to check if the dorms were in the same state of disarray.

Chibs nodded at the boy, and he went red in the face.

"Fucking bitch!" he screamed.

"I am going to kill her!"

Everybody turned to him. Clay, especially jerky, pointed his finger at him.

"And why is she still alive? I told you to put the hit with the Irish weeks ago".

Jackie gritted his teeth. Overplaying it a little, like he was trying to imitate a lion for real. They began to throw insults at each other, upsetting everybody's fragile state of mind. Gemma started crying, but when she cried, she was also always angry, so she ran towards her men, trying to make them stop. Tig lifted his hands, pulverizing tension.

"Hey, guys", he started peacefully.

"Fuck your guys!" Bobby barked and joined the argument. Everybody found some blame with each other. Chibs slid closer towards them as they started throwing punches. The son and his step-father, neverending story. Chibs thought he was extremely lucky that Gemma got so frustrated to throw her bag on the floor. He yelled something insulting, to heat up the quarrell, meeting her shocked gaze. Not you, too. She jumped at Jackie, who was throwing his hands like helicopter blades, screaming louder and louder. Some wise words sounded from that human knot.

She is trying to tear us apart.

She is. And now Chibs knows why; well, almost.

He sneaked towards the entrance, falling on his knee and working his hands really quickly. Gemma's bag is a bloody mess. Notebooks, two phones, perfume, loose change, hairbrush, mascara, Abel's toy, small blade, everything in the world. His finger hooked a keychain, and he threw the bag back and sprinted away.

In the office, he stood in front of the locked drawer, mingling keys in his palm. She had about ten of them. The small balck one opened the drawer with documents. He put the key in, and the lock clicked open. Chibs wasn't throwing glances around. He was focused on the task at hand. He looked through the papers, small budget books and passports. Then found Clay's old wallet of brown crusty leather.

He threw the keys on the desk; the office had been unlocked, because Gemma ran out of it fifteen minutes ago. She constantly left her keys behind.

In the ten hours June slept, she had several dreams, the worst of which was about the crash. Her car was sliding down the hill, but instead of trees breaking the fall, there were only small prickly bushed, so she kept falling down and down, like the slope was infinite. On the way, branches and sticks poked through the window, breaking the glass, and stabbed her in the face. June couldn't unglue her palms from the wheel. She heard someone's laughter over her agonizing screams. Turning her head, she discovered Chibs on the passenger seat, with a knife in his hand.

She woke up at night, refreshed, like the battery that's been plugged in. Pins had already left several messages on her phone. Checking if he was still at the station, she considered going there, to join him. But upon leaving her house, she felt incredible pain in her calf again, and decided to screw it. June checked the house. She was growing paranoid. All doors were locked, wardrobes and closets empty. Bathroom curtain folded up. The windows intact: nobody came to murder her yet. Perhaps it was really Pins.

She had a quick dinner and went back to bed. September was mild. It was raining again, the color of the light changing to the autumn. Now sunsets and sunrises were purple-red and not just orange anymore. Her birthday would come soon.

"Right", Pins folded up the sleeves of his shirt. Not a trace of dirt, not a spot of sweat on him. June never wore anything more formal than a turtleneck to work here; this was probably the most delightful aspect of her not being a cop. This will change soon, however. Her nomad period was drawing to an end. She was thinking of her future Detective exam like it was going to happen. Like future was going to happen.

Pins was a funny distraction from the everyday pattern. Doctor Manhattan, that's who he reminded her of, she realized. Not Daniel Day-Lewis, but Billy Crudup. No, Matt Dillon. And his latest memorable role: a serial killer who cuts off women's breasts.

"The most interesting thing I found over the night is probably your work on the warehouse system".

"You've been here all night?" June was genuinely impressed. She hauled a box onto the desk, and Pins moved away his coffee mug. He was still in the same shirt as yesterday, so he must have not left the station. He didn't look tired at all. Maybe he was the Patrick Bateman type who does the full face skin care routine? Or he is wearing someone else's skin...

"Yeah, I couldn't stop reading your files! So grandiose!"

The flattery.

"I have never seen such substantial work. And you've been here, what, two months?"

"Three. But I started basic research before I came here".

He nodded, his mouth slightly agape. As Pins reached across the desk, the muscles on his back flexed, and she tried to evaluate his weight. About two hundred. She is twice smaller. She remembered Jackie's punch. About the same built, but Pins is older. There's no way she can take him down hand to hand.

"Do you want to show me the southern forest storage? Sounds promising. Where did you get the intel?"

"I spoke with Teller's ex-wife. She's a heroine addict, for a dose she sold me everything she knew about their operations. And she's been with him for a couple of years. Around five, actually".

"You gave her heroine?" Pins repeated, looking up. His eyes were black.

"Nothing is below me in this case", Juno nodded. Pins seemed to be impressed.

"What if... she had OD'd?"

Perverse curiosity, pushing the limits.

"Then she would have died", June explained. "That's usually what happens".

Detective's eyes were searching her face, but he wouldn't find anything there. She eats boys like him for breakfast.

"What is your motivation in this case?" he asked quietly.

"I hate bikers".

His brows gathered together. Trying to find a key to her mind.

"I am impressed", he approved darkly. He dropped the act for a second and said seriously,

"I really want to see if you're right about that warehouse".

June gathered her hair with one hand and felt in her pockets for a tie. Then made herself a ponytail.

"Then let's go".

She had her knife on her thigh, and her gun in the holster. When looking into the face of death, you can count all of his teeth. She knew, like a soothsayer, that this wasn't her day to die. She wouldn't let it be.

They drove through the forest path onto the dirt road six miles outside the city. Detective's big Taho moved smoothly and confidently on the bumps. It was quite comfortable in comparison with the small sedans June drove all the time. She thought of renting a bigger car instead of the current one. Soon she'd get her insurance money for Chevy (RIP).

Maybe she should have shot a message to Telford, suddenly she thought. This idea felt weird, tickling. Would he want to know that someone else is getting ready to kill her? Would Teller? They were so different compared to her usual clients. So human, emotional, so irrational and irritating that she started, against all her will, to empathize with them. The more she hurt them, the more she liked them. Still found all the biker shtick incredibly dull. June jerked herself awake. No. She was getting pissy because of the nerves, because anybody would seem more favorable than this creature driving her into the lot number 6 in her list.

"So, how many years you've been with the police? I didn't get a chance to study your file yet".

Pins grinned.

"Ten years as a Patrol Officer, three as a Detective".

He side-eyed her good-naturedly.

"You have a way more impressive background".

"I've been though gruelling stuff, went to the academy very young, I was sixteen", she let out. Pins nodded.

"Honestly, I am waiting for a moment to ask you about the North Ted".

Idolising serial killers.

"North Ted was quite a character", June smiled lazily, "he was so passionate about his job".

Pins snorted rudely, breaking the character.

"I like the language you use".

She looked at the thick greenery flowing above them, with small flickers of the sun. The road was going on and on through the forest.

"Yeah, he mashed them good. You know why they gave him this nickname?"

The movement of his Adam's apple told her he didn't, and he wanted to learn about it. Almost like a loser, posing as a detective.

She didn't get a chance to tell him that story. Her phone rang hysterically.

"Boulder", she announced energetically. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" not a question, an order.

"On our way to a warehouse, why?"

"You went to the south, right?"

Boulder sounded alarmed. No, out of breath.

"Yeah, six miles away".

"Turn around and head for the highway".

"What happened?"

"Teller's son has been kidnapped".

Pins was frowning, wanting to hear. She gave him a concerned look. Saved by the bell.

"You sent somebody?"

"Yes, it's the Russians. He's a ten months old baby. They are heading for the port we assume. A team is riding there, join them in case they need negotiation".

"Got it".

She hung up and explained it quickly to Pins. She expected him to argue, but he turned the car around at once, and they sped up back towards the road.

Thirty minutes later, the Taho was sliding along the sleek, burnt asphalt. June was struggling in her passenger seat, putting on the bulletproof vest. Yes, it definitely affected her mood; she felt her enthusiasm grow. She couldn't think of bleak scenarios, so she imagined the energetic action, the result of which was a living baby. She didn't care much about children. Especially not the SAMCRO children. Probably will raise him a criminal just like his daddy. But she needed a good thing. In this swamp, filled with ghouls and murderers, and bikers, a living baby was the one good win she had to have. To do one good thing before she's done with this town. A kind of an I'm sorry, actually. She got focused. Checked her gun. Pins was good at driving, cold relaxed, his eyes on the road. Soon they caught up with the black police cars and joined the column in the middle. It was a chase. She didn't have a radio with her, so Laney kept her up to date over the phone. The landscape changed from mountainous to hills, then, valley. The sea was close.

The cut off and sieze operation wasn't standard for Charming cops, and they were shaking in their boots. Some of the Sacramento members of SAMCRO were following them like dolphins follow big ships at sea. She got a word that the Charming members were riding out of the city just now because the police elected to give itself a head start to avoid their involvement. The chase leaked through Sacramento. The boys won't be too happy with Boulder for that.

June's eyesight was clear and pointed because she slept a lot last night. In fact, she slept so much that she even got a little bit of a headache. But the thunder of gunshots blacked it out, she couldn't feel it behind the cacophony. In the heat of the moment she forgot to stay away from Pins, in case he decides to quietly snag her and blame it on a stray bullet. There were three Russian cars, but they had a lot of ammo. Officer Jayn got two bullets in his chest, and Laney vomited. Basically, they were useless. Even June, with her very restricted experience of active duty, felt more confident. A little of hiding behind the car, the adrenaline making her head spin. A little bit of a rest between the shooting spells. Ironically, it was the Sacramento Sons who put an end to the shootout. She was crawling towards one of the Russian cars carefully. The officers were giving cover so that she could search the vehicles. June pulled the door of the van and sneaked inside, shooting one man inside in the face. This car was empty.

Two leather-clad people threw the door open and lowered their shotguns upon seeing her.

"Empty! Go to the next!" she yelled. Something heavily dropped in her stomach. She saw them run towards the second car. Outside, they started shooting again, and she retreated deeper into the van. Finding a moment finally, she jumped out and crawled almost on her knees behind it. Her leg aching torturously. Meanwhile, the police was looking through the third car. She saw it by their faces. Abel Teller wasn't there. June's insides curled into a knot. She caught Pins' eyes from three vehicles away. He looked curious, entertained, busy. Her head was working. She was getting nothing.

They returned to the station by darkfall, and June left soon after, to avoid anybody she knew. She didn't want to see Jackson, or Telford, or anybody else. She had some work on her hands, for which she was grateful: three leads. One was taken by Jax, the second, by Pins. Really wanted to prove himself. June followed the third one, praying that either she, or the father would find Abel. She still felt Pins' eyes on herself, the way he looked at her in the car. Thanks to Russians, she was still alive. No way her stupid plan to roll and shoot would have worked.

She got into her car and turned on the music to calm her nerves. She rolled across Charming's evening streets, observing them, memorizing. She was trying to feel inside her brains to see how attached she became to this place. It had its own charm, pun intended. A couple of streets compiled the center, and the park area was pleasant, all sewn with hills, little artificial lakes and restaurants, framed with strings of lights and flower arches. The last flares of the day were splashing above the park, the purple curls reminding her of her thirtieth. She thought of herself as purple: like a bruise, like dead flesh, a fish. She had no idea how others saw her.

Her phone was silent as she left the car. She didn't remove the vest from the day because it made her feel protected. June checked the gun again, then touched the handle of her knife. She lost the previous one in the forest and had to buy a new one. Chibs would be able to appreciate it: drop point, bone handle. She had a lot of money saved and didn't know where to put it.

It was an old bar club, abandoned about a year ago. Niners used it from time to time to store drugs. She had no idea who it was occupied by at the moment, so she pushed the door with her shoulder carefully.

When staring in the face of death, you're not really afraid of it anymore. What we see can't scare us. She had trained herself to have higher tolerance to pain, with combination of exercises and medicine. Dislocated shoulder weighed less than her irrational fear for someone else's baby. She used her new knife to its full potential, acquiring the said injury in process. The scariest thing in all this was a little cradle with blue sheets, with Abel inside, surrounded by syringes and pools of urine.

They would never know the beast mode she got into that night. She felt proud of that, all her boxes checked. As she put the cradle into her rented car, wiped her hands with a towel, and turned down the music, the boy started sobbing a little. She rocked his bed and hummed a little song.

"Someone's coming!" Lyla cried. Tara pushed herself off the table with shaking arms. Her whole body was collapsing, shuddering. It wasn't even her child, but she had this sharp, visceral reaction, and she welcomed it in order to continue breathing. Chibs got her by the shoulder and gently pushed forward. He also heard the rocking sound of a car outside.

They all found their legs and stepped outside into the yellowish lot, lit by the clear night sky and streetlamps. They lined up in the shape of a crescent moon, Clay next to him, not holding Tara, but grabbing her. He could hear the old man's breathing, sore and coarse. He should give up smoking one day, or he'll end up like the President.

Juno's rented yellow car rolled slowly in front of them instead of parking in the dedicated spot. They all watched in complete silence, because this was the worst case scenario. Chibs was bracing himself for the jump if she emerges with a gun or with a smirk on her face. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if she held on to Abel for ransom, or blackmail. Or for perverse pleasure. He didn't want to believe, but he had to consider it.

They watched June while she was getting out of the car. Limping, wincing with pain, but keeping a brave face which was bleeding. She then opened the back door with a busy expression and bowed, reaching inside for the cradle. When they saw Abel's little portable bed in her arms, shaking, Chibs realized she might drop it because she's weak. He took one step forward to be able to reach them in one jump. But the others had a different idea. With the simultaneous click, they all produced guns. June came alive at the sight of it. Chibs held his breath, grabbing hot night air into his mouth.

"Right. Shoot me while I have a child in my hands!" she yelled. The blood from her nose was staining her lips red.

"Lower them!" Clay screamed, his hands outstretched. Unwillingly, they listened. June couldn't blame them. She has nearly destroyed them, laughing, in the last two weeks. They were on the edge. Tara firmly believed that June was the one behind Abel's kidnapping.

She waited until it was clear, and then walked over to them, towards the mother. Tara swallowed her tears hard, and walked, too. They met in the middle. June carefully gave her the cradle, and didn't even make one step back before the men mounted her.

It was mayhem. Lyla and Gemma rushed towards Tara and took her by both hands, pulling away. Chibs stayed away, torn in between. Clay, Tig, Kozik and Bobby jumped on June, crushing her on the ground. Juice and Chibs were watching in horror. She managed to find the clearing in between their bodies and crawled away. Clay tried to grab her by her foot, and June yelled in fear. She yelled in fear, seeing his hand.

What we did on the third of June in '92 with C was monstrously heinous.

Jackie shot his gun into the air to stop the commotion, or they would have murdered her. They only saw that the Vice President returned, when Bobby stumbled and fell on his ass. He must have dropped his bike on the ground to save her. He arrived just at the right time.

Chibs was smoking in the yard. The kid was home, unharmed, but his heart wasn't light. He saw darkness in front of him, clouding in curls and vortexes. The edge he was standing on, was crumbling under his feet. The last person he'd want to see now was Clay, and it was exactly who touched his shoulder. His hard cold hand. Chibs turned his head up and saw his face, yellowish-sick in the light of the lamps.

"We should change these lights, huh?" he muttered, sitting next to him. The President was heavy, snoring without sleeping. Interesting how he was now so absorbed by himself that he couldn't read faces.

"Abel okay?"

"Yes. He's with parents".

They were silent for a moment. Morrow put his huge palm on the table and then made a musing fist.

"You're the only one I can rely on these days, Filip".

He knew this tone. It didn't mean good.

"What do you want?"

"Kill this bitch. Jackie's no good. Too soft. Girls are off limits for him. Make her disappear".

Chibs nodded, releasing smoke through the nose.

"Will do".

"Soon as you can".

He nodded again and watched Clay's face though the wall of smoke.

@fallout-girl219

[lizseyi]

What Does It Mean To ‘Shock’ A Swimming Pool -  Poolware house

Over the course of the time you spend using your swimming pool, contaminates will inevitably find their way into the water – not least the sweat, saliva, skin cells, and urine that humans introduce. That’s before one considers sources of contamination from the broader environment, such as dirt, leaves, and bugs. 

This underscores the importance of “shocking” a swimming pool. This is the process of adding a high concentration of chemicals to the water to drive up the chlorine level, as a way of destroying contaminants. 

Chlorine Shock granules, such as those in our range here at Pool Warehouse, are routinely used for this purpose. The goal when using these products is to raise the levels of free chlorine in the pool to about 10 parts per million (ppm) or more, although it is crucial to ensure these levels have dropped to below 3ppm before resuming use of the pool. 

Why is it so critically important to ‘shock’ a swimming pool? 

As you may have already seen in our own extensive online range of swimming pool chemicals, there are other sanitisers that are customarily used in pools on a day-to-day basis. So, you might wonder why – if you’re making use of such products in your pool – you would need to use shock treatments as well. 

The short answer to this question is that you can’t depend on those everyday sanitisers, on their own, to keep the chemicals in your pool water at the right levels. Those sanitisers aren’t sufficiently concentrated to break down waste products, or to tackle especially problematic cases of algae growth in your pool. 

So, whatever else you do to manage the chemicals in your pool water to help ensure the cleanliness and safety of the water for swimming, you will need to use shock treatments relatively frequently, too. This will be especially important during times when you are using your pool a lot, as well as at both ends of the swimming season. 

The vital difference between free chlorine and total chlorine 

There are two forms of chlorine that swimming pool owners need to be aware of. One of these is “free chlorine”, which is the level of chlorine that is typically measured. It refers to the amount of chlorine that is effectively available in the pool to kill off bacteria and other pollutants. 

“Total chlorine”, meanwhile, includes not only free chlorine, but also the chlorine in the pool that has combined with contaminates in order to destroy them. 

The level of total chlorine in your swimming pool, then, will always be equal to or higher than the free chlorine level. When you test your swimming pool water, the ideal result would be the same number being recorded for free chlorine levels and total chlorine levels, given that this would indicate there are no contaminants in the pool. Such readings would indicate that all the chlorine in your pool is “free” – in other words, available and ready to do its job. 

Don’t underestimate how crucial a role pool shock treatments play 

By applying shock treatment to your pool, you can drastically heighten the level of free chlorine, which can then get to work on killing unwanted bacteria. 

The outcome, once the chlorine levels have subsequently dropped, will be a safer and healthier pool for you and your family to swim in again. So, when it comes to swimming pool chemicals, shock chlorine is definitely a product you will need to understand and make good use of. 

Browse our online store at Pool Warehouse today, and you can soon be doing exactly that, as part of the proactive and responsible use and maintenance of your swimming pool.