#why is safety important in a warehouse

[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

Part 2

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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.

[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

[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.

[elderwisp]

Hey, I really appreciate what you post. But something’s been on my mind — if ICE were completely abolished, who would actually go after child smugglers and traffickers crossing the border? I don’t mean in theory, I mean in practice. Because while I hate the raids too, I’ve also seen what happens when there’s no accountability or border enforcement at all.

I like to hear from all sides — red, blue, or middle — and I try to learn the facts before forming strong opinions. I recently saw an interview with Dr. Phil and Tom Homan (who used to run ICE), and he mentioned those recent raids at Home Depot and warehouses were tied to a long criminal investigation involving cartel-linked money laundering. They haven’t made the details public because it’s still ongoing, and releasing them could jeopardize the operation.

I’m not trying to argue, just trying to understand where abolition fits into that kind of reality. Do you think there’s a version of reform that still tackles that kind of crime, or…?

Alright.

Let's talk about why many have braved that journey across the border. The US didn't watch Mexico destabilize, they actively funded it. The US has had a history of intervening in Mexico's election (source) for it's own political and economical safeguarding. Funded violence (source) in Latin America that sent families fleeing for safety. And finally, pushed policies that harmed Mexican farmers (source).

And not only that, I think it's important to discuss what's going on the inside as well. In November of 1998, author Gary Webb published Dark Alliance: The CIA, the Contras, and the Crack Cocaine Explosion. Webb is able to demonstrate how the US government knowingly allowed massive amounts of drugs and money to change hands at the expense of our black and brown communities. For further evidence, the files were later declassified and posted on justice.gov.

I also wanted to compare Barrack Obama's approach of mass deportation in comparison to the current president. Under Obama, 90% of interior removals were convicted of serious crimes. Meanwhile, Trump's administration includes people with no criminal record-simply for being undocumented. However, as of late, there are many reporting's of brown US citizens being detained. Under Obama, he challenged my state's bill (SB1070), taking it to the Supreme Court and striking it down as unconstitutional. Not only that, he created DACA in order to protect undocumented immigrants who were brought here as a child, allowing them to have a dream. Here are some more facts! Now the criticism of both administrations is the mistreatment of individuals being thrown into crowded holding cells without due process. At the end of the day, we still need to treat humans with dignity and respect because we are no better that those we oppose. We are no better.

You've "seen what happens when there’s no accountability or border enforcement at all" but my friend, I've lived my whole life in the state that borders it. There is a substantial amount of evidence that disproves immigrants are likely to increase crime. (source.) However, from the reading I've done, seeing what is happening in person (ex. the peaceful protests) and how the news spins it (focusing on the 10% of violence mostly incited by our law enforcement, showing certain images/cropping videos and withholding certain images/cropping videos to fit a better narrative, and downright generalizing us as criminals), I recognize this one key detail:

You are not immune to propaganda. And man, I understand why ignorance is bliss because the truth fucking hurts. Learning about the history of my own people as well as the country I was born in has been so polarizing because while I am proud to be Mexican-American, there are plenty of things that invoke a sort of visceral anger in me. Both statements can be true at once. While I understand your question comes from a curious standpoint, in the ability of being able to see every angle, I hope I am able to better expand on those viewpoints and maybe allow you to advocate in a way that supports the community and debunks harmful narratives.

So. To answer your question "Do you think there’s a version of reform that still tackles that kind of crime, or…?" While it's important to hold those accountable and create better reforms, it is the job of our government to do so. What the purpose of yesterday's protest is to bring awareness to the authoritarian and fascist regime under Trump's administration, bringing many issues to the surface such as the immigration laws. ICE needs to be abolished. There needs to be a better and safer way for families to migrate. The US has to be held accountable for it's role in consistently destroying black and brown communities for it's own gain. But it is up to the government to do so and it is up to us, the people, to speak up and hold them accountable.

I leave you with this photo as well at the Trump rallies last year. To this administration, it was never about creating a safe America. It was about creating a white one.

[meirimerens]

could you expand more on the lavender marriage? i wanted to look up more posts of yours when you mention it but... tumblr search function... function't...

I don't think I've said much about it because it's kinda self-explanatory okay so the lavender marriage mention [that I can rember] is from le fameux "inheriting the earth" + 5yrs patho kids now adult designs & lore post with both Khan & Capella having "[material] wedding ring, purposefully mismatched as a sign of lavender marriage". for the uninitiated a "lavender marriage" is a type of marriage of convenience that one (or both) party/ies enter to conceal their homosexuality and attempt to reap the social benefits and personal safety of being in a heterosexual marriage. it can happen with both spouses being gay and using the appearance of a heterosexual pair for reciprocal protection, or only one of them being gay and entering the marriage for protection, the non-gay partner may or may not be aware of the other's homosexuality. if both spouses are gay, they may typically lend each other freedom to see other people.

in khan & capella's situation, a marriage of convenience is decided upon early [cf. Capella's lines] for the sake of "bringing the families together" (political alliance). Oh I have sooo much to think about how the older generation (in that case Maria and Vlad Jr) expect the one after them to rub off their blood and rebuild their shed (pivotal element of pathologic anyways [cf. Burakh]) but that's not about this rn. anyways yes marriage of political interests.

anyways now this is where I'm real I think they're both homosexual. capella knows this about khan because she's clairvoyant. khan knows this about himself. he knows capella knows when she gives him her little bunny smile and he remembers she's clairvoyant. he learns later [this is still pre-wedding] she is too and is like oooooh so we fundamentally can't love each other. thank god I just thought it was a me problem. Capella had been taking theatre classes and she learned to do a theatre-kiss [move the mouth to the side so the other kisses cheek, head angle important] for the wedding day. They shamelessly lie to the population to explain why they, bit by bit, stop living together very quickly after the wedding ("we need separate blankets he keeps stealing if off me" "we need separate bed she has such cold feet it's giving me the shivers" "we need separate rooms he snores" "we need separate houses my presence is draining her of her powers"). Maria knows that's not the truth, she's clairvoyant. Whether she feels anything for the brokenness of the ruling families having been pushed onto her brother as a teenager I haven't decided yet. Katerina knows because she's clairvoyant. Basically all the kids know they don't like each other and a select few adults do (not about the gay thing they just think they're in a normal loveless marriage of convenience like is unfortunately really common [a lot had own parents in one] just slightly happier about it)

In my mind's eye (in my eyes' mind) they both have their own lives pretty separate. Khan fucks off overseas, goes to boarding school, and travels, sends back copious amounts of books. Capella gets the telegram installed into the town and he sends short updates on his travels. She stays in town for Mistress Purposes, reads plenty of books and orders khan to go fetch some in obscure londonian libraries, carries the new administration on her shoulders frankly. the marriage stays as a constant reminded to the oldest siblings and the rest of the adults that it is their bullshit that created this unnatural and uncomfortable situation which reflects poorly on the town with how free both "spouses" live their lives. Capella goes dancing with the girls in the warehouses. Khan routinely goes and hang out with [gestures] this one guy who we don't know what their problem is or if they even have a problem anymore. nobody will let them divorce because that would force the town to reckon with its massive political mistakes and fundamentally broken systems. Capella had gone dancing with the girls in the warehouses on her wedding night and khan had found himself there also because he wanted to tell off notkin for running his mouth during the "speak now or forever hold your peace" and insulting the oldest siblings for cf. like 2 paragraph above and when these two begin jokingly asking what capella is even doing here in this dress she goes "it's my wedding day!!" and they make faces and pretend to be gobsmacked and khan says "and I wasn't even invited??" anyways yeah. very funny to me.

okay now what's this "i haven't said much because it's self-explanatory" >proceeds to say much. well hope you enjoyed.

[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!

[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

[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...

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[oboetemasuka]

Could I request director's commentary for If You Had Been There? Specifically from "just then, a barrage of thunderous knocks sounded out from the entrance" to the end of that section, or honestly any section you had a lot of thoughts about :3

Absolutely! I would love to yap about this lovely fic that I spent so long on 😊

Like I've said before, this arc wasn't in the original outline, but it turned out to be an important part of Amane's personal development and relationship with Kotoko. This scene in particular was the indicator that the ball was rolling. I could skip the pet scenes for a later time, but this was the core action scene.

Commentary in green.

-

Just then, a barrage of thunderous knocks sounded out from the entrance.

It took a few tries to get the phrasing right on that green one. I still think I could have done better. Anyway, the point was to convey the sound of Kotoko barging into the warehouse while Amane was closing her eyes.

Amane cracked an eye open and saw her captor turn towards it, dumbfounded. The door burst open, and a figure clad in red charged at him and tackled him, causing him to drop the hammer in shock.

In this fic, Kotoko is characterized by her blue jacket, so I wanted to draw attention to the unfamiliarity from the change of clothes. (Note that she was wearing the blue jacket earlier that day)

Now was her chance to escape. Amane looked around the warehouse for anything that could break her bonds.

Right before the unexpected rescue, Amane was bemoaning that she was a bad girl who was about to receive a deserved punishment. All she could do was sit there and take it like she should have in the first place. And even then, she couldn't bring herself to look death in the eye.

Now she's not going to sit around and wait for the fight to resolve itself.

By the far wall was a row of wire racks, well-stocked at the top and empty and fraying at the bottom. She scrambled over to get a better look. There was a boxcutter on the lower shelves, but she couldn’t grab it with her covered hands. Anything on the higher shelves was out of the question. What else could she do?

It was originally a file cabinet with the lower half torn off, but I decided much later that a wire rack would be flimsier and fall over more easily from repeated shaking.

The wires at the bottom of one shelf poked out at sharp angles. She sat in front of the shelf and began scraping the tape over the edge.

From there, she could see the fight unfold, a barbaric show for her, the captive audience. It was incredibly one-sided, owing to the kidnapper being caught off guard. Amidst the flurry of kicks, grabs, and punches, he had no time to recover or strike back. It wasn’t long before he went completely motionless on the ground.

Isn't it so messed up that Amane has a front seat view of the fight? Sure, this person just saved her life, but having to witness the ensuing violence can't be pleasant...

Amane managed to free her fingers, but a sharp pain ran through them as she brushed them against a stray piece of metal. Now she realized how frail and crooked the support was, but she continued to scrape away until the rack tilted towards her. She jumped out of the way right as the contents of the top shelf hit the ground, and the rack collapsed.

The key part of the scene is that Amane creates enough of a racket (and endangers herself) enough to draw Kotoko's attention and force her to consider Amane's safety over punishing Kaneshiro.

Okay, the Whumptober discord may have convinced me to make the rack fall towards Amane.

That seemed to catch the savior’s attention, leading them to quit the fight and hurry over. “Amane, are you alright?”

A question I bring up sometimes: Why didn't Kotoko take the girl and run? Here, I forced her to! At this moment, Amane's safety is more pressing than dealing with the already-unconscious fugitive.

The voice was more feminine than she expected. For that matter, it was more recognizable than she thought it would be. Once the mysterious figure knelt by her, she could make out the shape of those bangs… the glint of red eyes… 

The text in HARROW points out that Kotoko's red outfit conceals her form, and she wears men's shoes to throw off investigation. So Amane might not be able to discern the gender of the savior until she gets a closer look.

Kotoko-san, she would say if her mouth wasn’t covered, but all she could manage was a whimper. She felt herself starting to tear up.

Gotta love cathartic crying. "It's all over. You can cry now. Actually, not yet; you'd suffocate like that."

“Easy there. You wouldn’t want to suffocate now, would you?” Kotoko steadied her face in one hand and began peeling the tape off with the other.

Once Amane was sure she wouldn’t have to worry about breathing anymore, she leaned into Kotoko’s shoulder and sobbed.

“Hold on, we still have to free your hands.” 

Kotoko pulled Amane close, seemingly to embrace her. But she realized that wasn’t all to it; there was the clicking of a blade, and the tension in her wrists eased.

Before I revised this scene, Kotoko got up and cut the tape from the back. But that was too many points of action that Amane wouldn't be able to see. The hug turned out to be much more efficient (with an added emotional kick).

“There you go.” Kotoko moved back and patted Amane’s shoulders.

Amane brought her hands in front of her and flexed, twisted, and rolled them. Then she picked at the residual tape. Kotoko extended a hand to help her up.

Instead of taking it, Amane jumped and wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders, clutching the jacket as if it were her only anchor to the earth. She feared she would slip away forever if she wasn’t holding onto anything.

This is essentially the scene with Lucky. Also, Amane knows she should be dead now. The kidnapper was about to bash her head in. How does she know the rescue wasn't just a fever dream? How does she know she's still alive if she isn't holding onto something real? (And just a few paragraphs ago, she wasn't able to hold anything.)

It was a few moments before Kotoko returned the hug genuinely, and along with it, a reprimand. “We can't waste our time here. That man could wake up any moment.”

The duality of compassion and sternness. I could've made Kotoko say something harsher. ("Don't waste our time here.")

Amane stepped back and nodded. 

(Feel free to request more on this ^_^)

[epoxyfooring]

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[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.