#Elevating Packaging Efficiency

[munkypackagingmachines]

Snacks Packing Machine: Elevating Packaging Efficiency with Munky Packaging Machines

In today’s fast-paced world, the demand for ready-to-eat snacks is continuously rising. Whether it’s potato chips, popcorn, or namkeen, snack manufacturers are under constant pressure to meet the increasing consumer demand while ensuring the quality and freshness of their products. To address these challenges, Munky Packaging Machines offers state-of-the-art snacks packing machines that are designed to streamline and optimize the packaging process.

Why Choose Munky Packaging Machines for Snack Packaging?

At Munky Packaging Machines, we understand the critical role packaging plays in product quality, shelf life, and brand reputation. Our snack packing machines are engineered to provide precision, speed, and reliability, making them the ideal solution for businesses of all sizes in the snack industry.

Here are some key features and benefits of using our snacks packing machines:

1. Automated Solutions for Consistent Performance

Our snacks packing machines are fully automated, allowing for efficient and precise packaging. The automation reduces human errors and minimizes product waste, ensuring that each pack contains the exact amount of product. With Munky’s machines, you can guarantee uniform packaging across all batches, which is essential for maintaining quality standards.

2. High-Speed Weighing and Filling

Accuracy is crucial in the snack industry, especially when dealing with high-volume production. Our machines come equipped with our Made in India linear weighers that ensure each pack contains the precise weight of the snack, whether it's light and airy popcorn or denser snacks like namkeen. Once weighed, the products are transferred seamlessly to the filling station for swift and accurate filling into pouches or containers.

3. Reliable Sealing Technology

The sealing process is critical to preserving the freshness of snacks. Our machines use cutting-edge sealing technology to ensure that the packages are airtight, keeping the product crispy and fresh. From pillow pouches to stand-up pouches, the machine can handle a variety of packaging styles. Additionally, the inclusion of nitrogen flushing is an optional feature that further prolongs shelf life by replacing oxygen inside the package with nitrogen, which prevents oxidation and spoilage.

4. Versatility Across Snack Types

One of the standout features of our snacks packing machines is their versatility. They can efficiently handle a wide range of snack types, including:

Potato Chips

Popcorn

Namkeen

Roasted Dry fruits

Extruded snacks This versatility makes our machines a perfect fit for manufacturers producing multiple snack varieties under one roof.

5. Easy to Operate and Maintain

Our machines are user-friendly and come with intuitive interfaces that require minimal training for operators. This ensures smooth day-to-day operations with minimal downtime. Additionally, the machines are designed for easy maintenance, with readily accessible parts and a robust build that ensures longevity.

The Three-Step Packaging Process of Munky Snack Packing Machines

Our snacks packing machines follow a three-step process to deliver perfectly packed products every time:

Weighing The machine accurately measures the desired weight of the product before it’s packaged. This ensures consistency in every pouch, reducing wastage and maintaining cost efficiency.

Filling After weighing, the product is transferred to the filling station, where it is filled into the selected pouch or container. The filling process is smooth and precise, handling even fragile products like chips without damage.

Sealing The filled pouches are then sealed to protect the product from air and moisture. Our machines use advanced sealing technology that ensures a secure and airtight closure, maintaining the product's crunch and flavor for an extended period.

Customizable Solutions for Your Business

At Munky Packaging Machines, we know that no two businesses are alike. That’s why we offer customizable solutions to meet your specific production needs. Whether you need a machine that can handle high-volume production or one that’s capable of handling different types of snacks, we’ve got you covered. Our team works closely with clients to deliver tailor-made solutions that align with their goals.

[mathmodder]

GetWildMOD & OceanLifeMOD Launch FOR FREE on my Patreon

I'm thrilled to finally announce the official release of GetWildMOD & OceanLifeMOD, after lots of testing and fine-tuning!

Get Wild Mod: Unleash the untamed beauty of the wilderness with the "Get Wild" mod. This mod transforms your gaming environment by dynamically spawning a variety of animals, from graceful birds that soar through the skies to fascinating ground-dwelling creatures. Immerse yourself in a vibrant ecosystem as you explore the map, encountering wildlife in unexpected and breathtaking moments. The "Get Wild" mod breathes life into your gaming world, creating a dynamic and immersive experience. Know more clicking here

Ocean Life Mod: Dive into the depths of your virtual oceans with the "Ocean Life" mod. This mod introduces a stunning array of marine life that populates the vast waters surrounding your in-game world. From majestic whales to colorful schools of fish, the oceans come alive with the addition of this mod. Explore the depths, witness the beauty of underwater ecosystems, and encounter the wonders of oceanic biodiversity. The "Ocean Life" elevates your gaming experience by adding a new layer of realism and excitement to the aquatic realms. Know more clicking here

What's New:

This version brings fully optimized spawners, so animals now appear much more efficiently! The best part? It's 100% compatible with Smooth Patch, meaning no more CAS issues or lag. While I may still need to tweak a few small details, the mod is ready to enhance your virtual worlds starting today!

How to Install:

Main Files:

Place the file "GetWildMod & OceanLifeMod Override Folder (Math Mod)" in the Mods/Overrides directory.

Place both "GetWildMod and OceanLifeMod Animals Package File (Math Mod)" and "GetWildMod Spawner Package File (Math Mod)" in the Mods/Packages directory.

Optional Addons:

For additional features, you can also install the three optional addons:

GetWildMod Addon 1 - Enhanced Butterflies spawns Wildlife too!

GetWildMod Addon 2 - Enhanced Will-o'-the-wisp Butterflies spawns Wildlife too!

GetWildMod Addon 3 - Enhanced Fireflies spawns Wildlife too!All optional addons should be placed in the Mods/Packages directory as well.Important: If your PC doesn’t have a lot of memory, I recommend not installing all optional addons at once to avoid performance issues.

Support My Work:

If you enjoy the mods and would like to support me in continuing my projects, please consider subscribing to my Patreon. Your support motivates me to keep creating and improving these mods, and it helps bring more content to life for all of us. 💖✨

Important Note:

Though this is the full release, I still appreciate any feedback or reports on issues you may find. Your input helps refine the experience for everyone! Feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr or Patreon.

I can’t wait to hear your thoughts and see how GetWildMOD & OceanLifeMOD brings your worlds to life! 🌿🐠✨

Head to my Patreon to download the official release now for FREE!

Math Modder | The Sims 3 Mods and MO-MO-MORE! | Patreon

[swagyalastorwife]

Vox x employee!reader {vox defends y/n from Valentino}

A/N: hiiiiiiii guyssss (^-^)/❤️I wrote this fanfiction because it was requested and to be honest I really liked this idea so I hope you like it and sorry for the spelling mistakes

⚠️warning ⚠️: pervert, nudity, bdsm is mentioned

♧ As you sat at your desk working, you heard someone knock on the door

"Knock, knock!"

"Yes, come in."

"Hello Y/n, how are you today?

"Pretty good, I just finished the file you sent me."

"Already??? My god, how efficient, that's why you're my favorite employee."

"Stop making fun of me,"

♧ You said, letting out a small laugh. The laughter stirred something in Vox's heart, but he couldn't quite say what it was.

"What are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Yes, actually, I'm very busy, and I need you to deliver this package to Valentino."

"Vox, his department is four floors up, it's going to take me a long time, you know?"

"I know, yes, but you're the employee I trust the most, that's why I'm asking you."

"Okay, fine, give me that package."

♧.Vox handed you the package.

"Thank you very much, Y/n."

"With pleasure, sir,"

you said with a smile. Vox loved seeing your smile.

♧ A few minutes after your interaction with Vox, you decided to deliver the package to Valentino, so you headed towards the studios.

♧ 20 minutes later, you arrived in front of the studio's main gate. You opened it and

♧ You saw a very disturbing sight:

naked women and men with muzzles, lots of objects to practice BDSM

♧ You were "lucky" enough to arrive just as Val was filming, so out of politeness, you had to wait until the scene was over, and to be honest, you would never have wanted to see that.

"Hey, hi there~~"

"Oh, well... hello, sir. Vox told me to bring you this package, so... Here you are.."

♧ Everyone, including Val, could hear the embarrassment in your voice.

"You know you're very sexy~~, do you need a job?"

"Huh, I... I"

"Mmmh~come here mi puta~i know you want it ~~"

♧ He pulled you close to him and allowed himself to put his hand on your butt. You were surprised, disgusted, and a little terrified all at once.

♧ You tried to push him away, but without success.

♧ As you felt Val getting closer and closer to you, you felt another hand place itself on your wrist and pull you back.

"FUCK, Val, what are you doing!"

"What! I'm just having a little fun, don't tell me you sent that sexy woman just to deliver this package to me."

"Of course she did, she was only supposed to give you this FUCKING package."

"Oh, Vox, stop it, you know perfectly well that..."

♧Vox violently grabbed Valentino by the neck and said

" If you dare touch my favorite employee, I'll kill you"

"..."

♧ Val didn't answer, and Vox let go of him. Then he grabbed your hand and led you back to your office. The ride was silent. Neither you nor Vox dared to talk about what had happened until you were in the elevator

"Did he hurt you?"

"No... sir, everything's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes...yes, don't worry."

"You should go home and rest."

"I assure you everything's fine."

"Y/n..."

♧ Even though he tried not to show it, he's very worried about you, and to be honest, he hates himself for sending you to give this package to Val, because if he hadn't done it, none of this would have happened.

♧ Seeing the worry in his eyes, you decided to accept his offer and go home.

"Okay, your favorite employer agrees to go get some rest."

♧ You say with a smile on your lips.

♧ That smile that Vox loves more than anything.

♧ Vox felt terribly guilty for putting you through all this and will make sure you feel good at work and will do everything he can to ensure Val never sees you again.

I hooope you likt it 💙💙🦈

[seat-safety-switch]

I am, perhaps, one of the last survivors of the mail-order catalogue culture. In times long past, you would travel to a little store in your neighbourhood. There, you would fill out an elaborate form. Promises of money would be taken. Your swag? Arrives six to eight weeks later, if you're lucky.

Nowadays, we have an army of package-delivery psychos wandering our fair streets, delivering next-minute megaparcels from Taiwan. Nobody can argue about the efficiency. I get froggy these days when it takes two days for me to source a specialized inverter-welder from the internet, especially when I paid over a hundred bucks for it. Unfortunately, I'm starting to think that something has been lost. Call it the humanity.

When you ordered something from a teensy shitkicker of a Sears outlet in your neighbourhood, you'd get to page through a catalogue. It was annoying to fill out with the little knuckle-scraping golf pencils. And then there was the wait, the anticipation, the frantic math around layaway payments in the days before its arrival. All of this made for great human drama, which is gone now that you can type "elevator buttons" into AliExpress and click Buy Now on half a dozen of them.

Here's the solution. I'm calling it the Seat Safety Switch Shopping Snetwork. We're going to take out eensy-weensie, dinky-winky microstores in all the abandoned malls. You'll drive there, find parking, leaf through thousands of pages of printouts from Amazon, then tell us to order the shit. We order that shit, and then we don't call you for six to eight weeks after it arrives.

Will you buy less stuff? Probably. Will you really look forward to it? You bet. And, with our modest 50% service fee, you can tell all your friends that you buy your cheap crap from a premium, artisanal shopping concierge, which is what we'll name guys like Frantic Ed, our very first franchisee. He's fresh out of prison, and ready to spend his employment trapped in a room with metric ass-tons of off-gassing foreign plastic that he has to sit on for a couple more weeks. Hey, there has to be some abuse. It's still capitalism.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Liz Plank at Airplane Mode:

There was a moment, early in the Trump presidency, when many of us made a critical mistake. We looked at the cruelty on display, the kidnapping of legal residents, the abortion bans, the dismantling of environmental protections, and assumed we were witnessing competence. Not moral competence, of course, but a kind of ruthless, calculating efficiency. We treated the administration like a well-oiled fascist machine, analyzing every tweet and press conference as if they were chess moves in some grand authoritarian strategy. We were wrong. What we were actually witnessing was something far more dumber: the elevation of mediocrity as a governing principle. The Trump White House isn’t some sinister cabal of geniuses. It’s a jobs program for the profoundly unqualified, a four-year experiment in what happens when you hand the keys of government to men who peaked in high school. Their only real qualification? The ability to coddle the most insecure man in America. These aren’t masterminds. They’re the dumbest guys in the room, and that’s why they got promoted. Because their political project has never been about governing. It’s about preserving a system where men like them succeed not through talent, but through entitlement.

This is what patriarchy looks like in practice. It doesn’t just privilege men, it selects for the worst among them. The loudest, the angriest, the most insecure. It rewards obedience over insight, loyalty over leadership, ego over ethics. And while it absolutely hurts women, it also traps good men in a world where they are forced to answer to worse ones. A world where being thoughtful, decent, or competent makes you less likely, not more, to rise. That’s the paradox at the heart of patriarchy: it promises men power, but only if they agree to give up everything that makes power worth having: integrity, growth, connection, purpose. It’s not just bad for women. It’s bad for men. And it’s terrible for democracy. And no scandal reveals this better than signalgate, a blunder so humiliating it makes Veep look like a pbs documentary. Michael Waltz (the actual National Security Advisor) accidentally added Jeffrey Goldberg, the editor-in-chief of The Atlantic, to a signal group chat discussing bombing Yemen. Yes. A journalist. In a signal chat. About Yemen.

And when that incompetence inevitably implodes, the women who helped elevate these men are often the first to fall. Just look at Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard, who is having a really bad 48 hours after trying to cover for the boys’ fiasco by claiming that “no classified or intelligence equities were included.” But her statement was quickly contradicted by multiple sources, including a U.S. defense official who confirmed the information was “highly sensitive” and resembled material typically briefed to the president in secure settings. And then in the world’s greatest this you? The Atlantic published he texts showing “precise information about weapons packages, targets, and timing.” You can read their stupid texts for yourself here. And subscribe to The Atlantic while you’re at it. The MAGA movement isn’t a rebellion against elitism. It’s a tantrum against merit—a last-ditch effort by underqualified men to hold onto power by discrediting any system that might measure their actual abilities. They didn’t kill DEI because it was unfair. They killed it because it worked. And because they’re scared they’ll lose positions they were never qualified to have in the first place. Equity meant their résumés would finally be judged on merit. Inclusion meant they could be replaced by someone, god forbid a woman or person of color. Or at the very least, someone who doesn’t leave their venmo public, like our brilliant National Security Advisor just did.

The Trump Administration is home to a different kind of DEI: where White male mediocrity is rewarded and merit is gone.

[blniight]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ⋆ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

outlaw!ateez x original female character

synopsis : fights doesn’t always happen in the ring, sometimes you take them home.

content : ateez outlaw au, inspired by the world ep. 2 : outlaw

warning : drugs, alcohol, smut ( 18+ MDNI ), language, murder, dark topics will be mentioned in the story ahead.

a/n : this is the second chapter of the series. masterlist is currently in the making. thank you so much for the support on this. if you want to be added to the taglist, check the pinned post on my account until i make the one for this series only. enjoy <3

𓂃 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 — blood in the water

˗ˏˋ previous ˎˊ˗

The thing about late-night cravings was that they always came with a certain kind of routine.

The neighborhood was quiet, too clean, too predictable. But the Blue Bird Delivery app — cheap, fast, and always open past midnight, was her saving grace.

“ Delivery! “

Opening the door, Areum greeted the delivery guy again, handing him the money for the delicious smelling food.

She didn’t think much of the delivery guy at first. He didn’t speak much. Just a curt nod, eyes downcast, package in hand. Always fast. Always efficient.

He never took the elevator. Always the stairs. She knew because she’d hear the soft thuds of his boots disappearing down the emergency stairwell before the door even clicked shut behind her.

And just like that, he was gone.

Down on the street, he moved like a shadow— one more faceless delivery driver in a city that never slept. He slid onto his beat-up electric bike, thumbed a button, and disappeared between alleyways too narrow for cars, cutting through the cracks in the city like he belonged there.

Eventually, he parked four blocks away, out of sight from the street, where his other motorbike waited for the owner.

Yeosang undid the strap on his delivery bag before shrugging out of his vest. Layer by layer, the delivery guy disappeared.

Underneath, he was already dressed for the night — black combat pants tucked into scuffed boots, a fitted long-sleeve shirt hidding behind the black leather jacket that he zipped up.

He folded the discarded clothing neatly, tucked it behind the dumpster, and pulled on black padded gloves. The kind meant for holding weapons, not food orders. Then, he swung a leg over his bike and started the engine with a low growl.

By the time he reached the lot behind the abandoned print shop, the others were already there.

“ Late. “ a deep voice echoed.

“ Delivery. “ Yeosang answered, kicking down his stand and pulling off his helmet.

“ Same stop as last week? Girl must be cute. “

Yeosang didn’t look at him. Didn’t even blink. “ You need me or not, Seonghwa? “

The name landed sharp in the quiet. The others didn’t dare to comment.

Seonghwa arched a brow. “ Don’t get twitchy. “

“ I’m just saying. “ Yeosang said, tone flat, “ If we’re wasting time tonight, I’d rather go back to doing something useful. “

Seonghwa stared at him for a moment, then nodded, like he was deciding to let something go.

“ We’re heading to the Chili Peppers. Back entrance. Hongjoong’s inside waiting. “

“ Tch. That guy again… “ one of the others muttered, kicking at the gravel. “ Why’s it always some weird after-hours meeting with him? “

“ Because Hongjoong doesn’t talk during business hours. “ Seonghwa said.

Yeosang mounted his bike again. “ Let’s get it over with. “

The four of them started their engines, falling into a familiar rhythm — no headlight, no noise beyond the low growl of tuned machines. They rode fast, tight, slicing through the veins of the city like something alive.

Sound of metal scraping against concrete echoed under the half-open garage door. A wrench clattered, a beat-up radio crackled in the corner, and the low hum of a fan barely stirred the heavy scent of oil, rubber, and rust.

Areum wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist, grease smudging across her skin. “ You sure this thing isn’t just begging to be put out of its misery? “

Yunho looked up from under the hood of a battered muscle car, one hand braced against the frame. “ It’s a classic. “ he grunted. “ It just needs someone who gives a damn. “

“ That sounds like something you say about stray dogs… “ she muttered, crouching beside a tool tray.

He gave a dry chuckle but didn’t argue.

Outlaw Customs was more than just a garage. It was a ghost in motion — one their father had started long before they could even walk. The kind of place where engines spoke louder than people. After their mom passed, it had become their dad’s second home.

Then, it became Yunho’s.

She remembered visiting once as a kid. The scent of gasoline on her father’s jacket. The grease stains he’d never quite get off his fingers. He’d lift her onto the counter while Yunho handed him tools like it was life or death. They’d seemed untouchable back then. Whole.

That illusion didn’t last.

Their mom had died fast — cancer, silent and brutal killer. She was gone before Areum could even hold a full memory of her. After that, it was just their dad, doing his best to raise two kids while working a badge.

He was a detective. One of the good ones. And three years ago, he was killed for it.

Officially, it was a “case gone wrong.” A drug raid, the file had said. A warehouse in the east district. But the details never sat right with Yunho — and the people he trusted most were the ones who stopped asking questions.

The case was shelved. Not solved.

Areum spent most of her life in their aunt’s cramped apartment, only seeing Yunho during holidays or rare weekends off. But after she graduated high school, Yunho — fresh into the force, badge still bright, opened the door for her. Literally.

She moved into his apartment. He kept Outlaw Customs alive on his days off. Said it was “the only part of dad he could still fix.“

Areum never said it aloud, but sometimes she thought the same.

Yunho pushed back from the car and wiped his hands on a rag, glancing at her. “ You spacing out again? “

“ Thinking. “ she said.

“ Dangerous. “ he teased, tossing the rag at her head. She caught it midair with a glare.

“ Shut up. “

A small silence passed — comfortable, mostly. Then Yunho walked toward the wall rack, grabbing a socket wrench.

“ You ever think about him? “ she asked, not looking at him.

“ Every time I open this place. “ he said without hesitation.

The fan clicked in the corner. Something heavy shifted in Areum’s chest.

She stood, stretching her back with a groan. “ Alright, what’s next? “

He looked at her, brow lifted. “ You volunteering to help again? What happened to you trying to avoid responsibility? “

“ Just trying to make sure this junkyard you love doesn’t fall apart. “ she said, already walking to the parked motorbike next to the car. “ And besides— “

She stopped mid-sentence, brow tightening as something caught her eye on the edge of the nearby toolbox. A crooked, matte-black sticker, half-peeled and fraying at the corners.

‘ K-Hot Chili Peppers ‘

It wasn’t familiar, but it felt out of place.

She nodded toward it. “ That new? “

Yunho glanced at it over his shoulder. “ Some guy left his bike last week for brake work. Sticker was already on it when he rolled in. Guess he slapped one on the toolbox while I wasn’t looking. “

Areum stared at it for a second longer.

“ Guy said almost nothing. Helmet on the whole time, didn’t even take off his gloves. Paid in cash, real twitchy. I figured he was just another street racer trying to avoid fines. “

Areum looked back at the sticker.

She didn’t know why it sat wrong in her stomach — like a whisper just outside of hearing.

But then again, in this city, weird was normal.

Areum moved to turn away, to shove the thoughts back where they belonged, but her feet hesitated.

She glanced back at the bike, and this time, really looked.

The thing sat heavy and quiet under the flickering garage lights. There was nothing remarkable about it to someone else, just another street build with custom handlebars and a blacked-out finish. But to her, it looked like it had teeth.

Her mind pulled up the image before she could stop it. Flashes of last night behind her eyes. The cage lights. The roar of the crowd. Blood soaking into the mat. And him — Mars, unmoving as the other guy gasped on the floor.

Areum swallowed hard.

There was something about the posture of the bike. The way it rested like it had been dropped here, not parked. The way the dust hadn’t fully settled on it, like it was never still for long.

It felt like him.

She didn’t know his name. Didn’t want to. But standing there in the quiet hum of the garage, staring at this bike, she had the awful, sinking feeling that the night she saw him in the ring wasn’t the last time he’d show up in her life.

But she strangely didn’t complain much about it.

In fact, she wanted to see him again.

And that’s exactly what happened that same night.

Yunho tightened his belt buckle, then glanced back at Areum, who was sitting on the edge of the couch, scrolling through her phone.

“ Areum… “ His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “ Please… don’t go out tonight. Not again. “

She looked up, surprised, meeting the worry in his eyes.

“ I know you’re not a kid… “ he said softly, “ But last night… I didn’t like the idea of you being out there with Wooyoung and San. It’s dangerous. You don’t have to prove anything. “

Areum swallowed, the usual fire in her chest softening.

“ I’m not asking you to stay inside forever. “ he added. “ Just… tonight. For me. Please. “

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “ Okay. I won’t go out. “

Yunho’s shoulders eased, and he gave her a small, grateful smile before finally turning to leave.

As the door clicked shut behind Yunho, Areum sank back onto the couch, the quiet settling around her like a soft weight.

She should probably let Wooyoung know they can’t hang out tonight.

But before she could, her phone buzzed first.

wooyoo 🧨 :

get ready hot stuff

your crush is fighting tonight 11pm

you don’t want to miss this

no rules

She stared at the screen, heart flickering oddly.

Mars.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, wanting to type back a quick “can’t tonight,” but something twisted in her chest. The fight — Mars — that strange, dangerous pull. She wanted to see it all again, wanted to see him.

hot stuff 🔥 :

be there in 20

The weight of the decision settled over her, cold that nearly made her shiver.

Because even if Yunho was right — even if it was reckless — she knew there was no stopping what had already started.

The streets were quieter than usual as she walked, the familiar hum of the city’s underbelly pulsing just out of sight. The night air was sharp, a cool reminder that she didn’t belong in this world, and yet she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Familiar warehouse became clearer with each step she took towards it. Her heart pounding in her ears she felt like she was the one entering the ring, fighting for her life.

She slid inside, the smell of sweat, smoke, and anticipation washing over her. The dim lights flickered overhead as the crowd’s roar swelled with each brutal strike.

San was already waiting near the edge of the crowd, leaning casually against the cold concrete wall, arms crossed. Wooyoung stood beside him, eyes sharp, alert.

San caught sight of her and gave a low whistle. “ There she is. “

“ Told you she’d come to see her crush. “ Wooyoung teased.

“ I thought I was your crush? “ San pouted, puppy eyes locking on Areum.

“ I don’t have a crush on him. You said that I shouldn’t miss this so here I am. “ she said.

It was half the truth. She didn’t have crush on him, but his aura was inviting her in closer, like he was pulling the strings.

The lights in the warehouse dimmed suddenly, plunging the crowd into a tense hush before a single spotlight snapped on, illuminating the cage at the center of the room.

“ Ladies and gentlemen… welcome to tonight’s main event! “

The crowd surged, anticipation buzzing like electricity in the air.

“ And now… entering the cage — the shadow of the underground fight scene — Mars! “

From the side entrance, there he was. Areum’s heart nearly exploding as her eyes watched him enter the ring. He was without his black cloak now, shirtless, scars from previous fights visible on his chest and muscles. His gaze was cold, scanning the crowd with quiet confidence.

Until his eyes locked on her again.

Areum’s breath hitched. There is that stare he gave her the other night, but this time it felt more merciless, without empathy. He was ready to attack, to rip the pieces and feed himself some meet.

“ And his challenger, a fierce contender known for his brutal strikes and unyielding endurance… The Crusher! “

The Crusher emerged from the opposite side, a towering figure with scars mapping his arms and a roar that sent a ripple through the audience. His eyes locked on Mars with fierce determination.

The two fighters met in the center of the cage, tension thick enough to cut.

The referee raised his hand. “ No rules tonight. First to the ground loses. “

The crowd exploded as the bell rang.

The Crusher stormed forward, all bulk and fury, fists already flying. He was the kind of fighter who counted on sheer mass and intimidation — the kind that ended fights with brute force, not finesse.

Mars didn’t move at first.

He just stood there, still as a loaded gun, watching his opponent barrel toward him like a runaway train.

The first hit was wild — a hook meant to knock teeth loose. Mars sidestepped with surgical precision, his body angling just enough to let the punch sail past his jaw. He responded with a single, devastating elbow to the side of The Crusher’s neck.

The crowd roared.

The man grunted, staggering a step, but quickly recovered, throwing a flurry of punches. Mars ducked one, parried the next, absorbed a third with a tightened shoulder. His movements were tight, minimal — brutal without ever wasting energy.

Areum stood frozen against the side rail, San beside her, eyes locked on the cage. She barely breathed as the fight raged on.

Mars moved like he was built for violence.

The Crusher lunged again, this time aiming for the body. He landed a hit — a loud thud against Mars’s ribs — but Mars didn’t flinch. Instead, he grabbed the man’s wrist mid-swing, twisted it, and sent the bigger man slamming shoulder-first into the cage wall.

The metal rattled.

The man stumbled, growling as he turned back around. His lip was split. Blood dotted the floor beneath him. But his rage burned hotter now, red and reckless.

He charged again.

Mars met him halfway.

Their fists collided midair in a sickening crack. The Crusher landed a blow to Mars’s jaw — Mars returned with a sharp knee to the stomach, followed by an uppercut so clean that it sent the bigger man stumbling backward. The crowd was losing their minds, screaming, pounding the cage.

But then—

Mars paused.

Something in his eyes flickered — like instinct catching a shadow.

The Crusher was still hunched, panting hard. But one hand had dropped behind his thigh. His fingers worked quickly, too quickly, at the tape on his wrist.

Areum’s breath caught.

From under the wraps, something metallic flashed under the lights — curved, small, glinting like a fang.

A blade.

“ Shit— “ she hissed, heart leaping.

Mars saw it too.

He shifted, weight sliding back slightly, muscles tensing.

The announcer hadn’t noticed. The crowd hadn’t either �� they were too caught up in the bloodlust, chanting for more violence.

But Areum knew something was wrong.

Her nails dug into the railing as she leaned forward, eyes locked on Mars.

The Crusher lunged — knife low, aimed straight for the ribs.

Mars twisted just in time. The blade grazed his side, not deep — but enough to draw blood.

Gasps erupted. One guy yelled, “ He’s got a knife! “ but the sound barely rose above the mayhem.

Before Mars could retaliate—

Everything went black.

The lights shut off like a switch had been yanked from the wall.

Darkness swallowed the warehouse whole.

Screams.

Shouts.

The roar of the crowd twisting into confusion.

And then—

BANG.

A gunshot.

Sharp. Deafening. Echoing over the chaos.

Areum froze. Her ears rang. Her body locked in place. She couldn’t see anything — only hear metal scraping, people shoving, someone crying out in pain. Feet stomped over broken glass.

Her hand trembled as she tried to back away from the railing—

And then a hand caught hers.

At first she thought it was Wooyoung, trying to pull her away from the mess and to bring her outside.

But the voice she heard definitely wasn’t Wooyoung’s.

“ You shouldn’t have come. “ the voice was low, strained, but steady.

She tried to say something — anything — but before the words came, he shoved something small and cold into her palm. Then, he grabbed her shoulder.

“ Run. Through the back. Don’t stop. “

He turned her toward the far door, his hand smearing blood across her arm as he pushed her toward safety.

Areum didn’t look back.

She ran.

The back exit groaned open just enough to squeeze through, and she burst into the cold night, lungs burning, sneakers slapping against wet pavement.

“ Areum! “

San’s voice cut through the darkness, headlights flashing as Wooyoung flung open the truck door.

“ Get in, now! “

She dove inside without a word, adrenaline pouring off her in waves.

The truck peeled off, tires screeching against the pavement. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Areum’s hands shook as she looked down at what Mars had given her.

A blood-smeared metal blue feather chain.

And hanging from it — a key.

“ Okay, what the fuck just happened?! “ Wooyoung demanded, eyes wide as he tried to steady himself against the dashboard.

“ I didn’t know that no rules fights involve a damn knife, I thought it was just for fun… “ San said, trying to focus on the road, hands shaky as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Areum stared down at her arm, the one Mars grabbed. He left the bloody handprint on her wrist. “ He grabbed me…. Mars… He pulled me out… “

Wooyoung raised his eyebrow at her words. “ You have got to be fucking kidding me… “

“ That guy had a fucking knife… “ San couldn’t believe his own words.

Wooyoung shook his head, disbelief etched into every sharp line of his face. “ Since when do they let knives into the ring? That had to be a setup, has to be. “

“ Mars didn’t look surprised. “ San added tersely. “ He moved like he expected it. ”

“ Then the lights went out… “ Areum mumbled, her voice shaky.

“ And someone fucking shot the gun! “ Wooyoung’s voice raised in frustration and fear.

“ What kind of underground bullshit lets someone bring a weapon in like that? “ San questioned.

“ That’s exactly because it’s an underground bullshit. “ Wooyoung replied. I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit down there… but not like this. This felt… wrong. “

Silence of understandment followed. Anxiety pulsed through their bones, afraid that behind all of this that happened tonight was something more unpredictable coming at them.

Wooyoung whipped around again, the seatbelt straining across his chest. “ Out of everyone in that circus, why you? Why’d he pick you? “ he questioned. “ He has a crush on you too now, huh? “

“ I don’t know… “ she admitted, staring down at Mars’s bloody smear across her skin.

“ Did he tell you something? “

“ That I shouldn’t be here… “ Areum said, remembering the tone of Mars’ voice when he had found her.

San exhaled, long and shaky. “ Which means Mars is in deeper than we thought… and we’re in it now too. “

Wooyoung rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and fear mixing in his eyes. “ We lie low. No more fights, no more rings. Whatever that was tonight, it’s way above our pay‑grade. “

“ But the money— “

“ No money. We have to wait for a few days to pass. The fight location will change now that police is marking the warehouse as the crime scene. “ Wooyoung cut San off, sighing.

Areum barely heard him, her thoughts were still back in the dark, replaying the flash of a blade, the crack of a gun, and Mars’s low command: Run. She clenched her fist around the metal key he’d pressed into her palm, feeling its edges bite into her skin. She had no idea what the key was for, but since he gave it to her in that chaotic moment — it must mean a lot.

So much that she won’t tell Wooyoung and San she got it too.

San parked the truck in front of Areum’s building, the engine’s rumble fading into the night’s stillness.

Wooyoung opened the door for her. “ If you need anything, really anything, you call us, alright? No questions asked. “

San leaned forward from the driver’s seat, voice gentle but firm. “ We’ll catch up soon, okay? Maybe something less crazy than tonight. “

Areum managed a faint smile. “ I’d like that. “

Wooyoung winked at her before closing the truck doors. In just a few seconds they were out of the sight, leaving Areum with heavy thoughts and even heavier heart.

Steam curled up from the hot water as Areum stood under the shower, the sharp scent of soap mixing with the metallic sting lingering on her skin. She moved slowly, letting the water wash over her, trying to scrub away the cold traces of blood that clung stubbornly to her arms and hands.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small key — its weight heavier now, burdened with meaning. She studied it for a moment under the running water, the metal glinting faintly before she wrapped it carefully in a clean towel.

Once the water was off and the steam began to fade, Areum dried herself and slipped into fresh clothes. She walked over to her small, worn jewelry box on the dresser and tucked the wrapped key inside, pressing it beneath a layer of old letters and photographs.

With careful steps she walked downstairs to the kitchen, her stomach growling from hunger. A quiet distraction from everything that happened tonight.

That didn’t last long.

The front door opened, slamming shut behind, so hard the frame shook. Areum peeked out of the kitchen. A dark bruise bloomed on Yunho’s jaw, his fists clenched tight.

“ You look like shit… “ she said lightly.

He didn’t smile. “ Where were you Areum? “

Oh shit…

“ Didn’t I fucking tell you not to leave the house and on top of it all you went out to the place that nearly got you killed?! “ he yelled angrily.

“ I’m sorry… “ she said, her voice small.

“ You went to the fights again. The warehouse under the train station. I was there until now, watching as they carried out the dead body only to be told that my little sister was present during the fight! “ Yunho pointed out, looking at her with eyes that could kill if they could.

“ You don’t understand Areum. I had people watching that place tonight. “ he explained. “ That place isn’t just some backroom brawl pit anymore. You think it’s about the fighting? It’s not. It’s about the money. The bodies. The disappearances that happened there. “

“ I didn’t do anything wrong Yunho and it’s not like that… “

“ You lied to me! “ he snapped. “ And yes it is like that. You think you’re safe San’s in the ring? Because Wooyoung’s mouthy enough to bluff his way out of a bad deal? Those people eat amateurs alive. You don’t understand what you’re walking into. “

Silence followed, Areum avoided his eyes.

Yunho’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he turned away. “ I’ll be in the room if you need me. But don’t expect me to just sit here and watch you throw your life away. “

The front door closed behind him as he headed upstairs, leaving Areum standing alone in the dim hallway, her chest tight with regret and defiance.

In this game, there was no mercy. Only the strong survived when the water ran red.

Tonight, the tide had turned, taking Areum with it.

˗ˏˋ next ˎˊ˗

[whump-imagines]

You're Just Talented

Connor x reader

WC: 1400 ish

Reader falls while Connor is at work. She calls him to come help her.

@juneofdoom day 4 whimper

------

You weren't even sure what had happened. One minute you were walking into the living room and the next you were on the ground and your arm was bent at a very unnatural angle. You weren't sure if you had ever been in so much pain.

You wiped at your face with your good arm, trying to clear the wetness from your still falling tears. Taking deep breaths, you tried to breathe through the pain.

You grabbed your phone from where it had landed near you on the floor, thankful to find it wasn't broken. You tapped on the phone app and tapped your most recent call: Connor. As the ringtone droned on, you worried that he might be in surgery or otherwise unavailable. The voicemail picked up and you hung up trying not to panic.

Before you could consider who to call next, your phone rang and your favorite picture of Connor filled your screen. “Hello?” you answered, trying to contain your emotions.

“Hey, baby. Sorry I wasn't quick enough, what's up?”

You sniffled and tried to even your voice. “A-are you in surgery?”

“No, I just finished,” he explained. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Um, can you come home?” You hiccuped as you finally lost control of the tears once more. “I fell. I don't know what happened but I was just walking to the couch and then I don't know. I, uh, I tripped, I think?” you rambled on, unable to stop the word vomit.

“Okay, alright, take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” he requested. “I'm coming right now. Are you hurt?”

You took a couple deep breaths before answering. “My–my arm. Pretty sure it's broken.” You sniffled again. “It hurts so much, Connor.”

“Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm almost to my car, I'll be there in five minutes,” he explained. “Just keep talking to me.”

You had never been so grateful to live so close to the hospital as you were now. “Okay. Um, how was surgery?”

He chuckled. “It went perfectly.” He continued to talk about how well the procedure he'd just finished had gone. You spaced out as he talked, allowing the sound of his voice to sooth you and distract you from the pain radiating through your arm.

“I'm in the elevator, I'll be there in a second.” Moments later, you heard the thunk of the deadbolt unlatching. You dropped the phone from your ear as Connor came into view. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You sagged in relief against the couch and let go. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore and you hiccuped as you cried. Connor crouched down and pulled you into his chest, careful not to jostle your injured arm.

“Just breathe,” he tried. “I know it hurts, but I need you to breathe.”

You realized you were basically hyperventilating as you cried. It took a couple tries, but you managed to suck in a couple deeper breaths and get yourself a little more under control.

“Okay, let me take a look.” He shifted back so he could examine your arm. Your forearm was bent backwards in a completely unnatural position and already had substantial bruising blooming across your skin. He placed his fingers against your wrist to check the pulse in your hand. You saw the worry in his eyes even as he tried to school his expression. “I'll be right back.”

Only a minute later, he was back with a towel, medical tape, and the triangle bandage from the first aid kit he kept in the bathroom.

He quickly and carefully braced your arm with the towel and wrapped tape around above and below the break to keep it in place. Next, he pulled the triangle bandage out of its packaging and efficiently placed and tied it into a sling to hold your arm against your torso. You bit your bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain as he moved your arm how he needed to. “I'm sorry,” he'd repeated over and over.

“This sucks,” you whined. “I don't even know how I tripped.”

He smirked. “You're just talented.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

He shifted to your other side and knelt in a position to help you up off the floor. “Let's do this carefully. Just let me take most of your weight, okay?”

“‘Kay.” You shifted your feet so they were flat on the floor and braced yourself to move.

“One, two, three,” he stood, lifting you along with him. He shifted his arm around your lower back to steady you. “You good?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded. “Good.”

He kept his arm around you as he walked you to his car and then helped you settle into the passenger seat. He reached across you to buckle your seatbelt for you before rounding the car and climbing behind the wheel.

As he drove, you had your eyes cinched closed as you tried your best to breathe through the pain the jostling of the road was causing.

After what felt like the longest drive of your life, he pulled up to the guest parking outside the ED. He helped you out of the car and walked you towards the sliding doors with his arm wrapped around your back.

“Treatment six is ready for you,” Maggie announced as soon as you walked in. “Will! Six.”

“Got it,” Will said, heading to meet you in the room. “What happened, Y/N?”

“I apparently tripped over my own feet,” you explained.

“Did you catch yourself on the floor or did you hit something?” Will asked.

“My arm caught the coffee table.”

“Displaced forearm fracture,” Connor informed Will. “There was no radial pulse but I didn't want to try to reduce it without an x-ray.”

“What?” you asked, now panicked over the new information.

“It's okay. We're going to fix it. You'll be fine,” Connor soothed.

“Unwrap it and I'll grab the doppler to recheck,” Will said, turning to grab it from the drawers behind him.

Connor untied the makeshift sling and cut the tap holding the towel splint to your arm. “Can you set your arm here?” He slid a wheeled tray beside the bed where you could reach without moving.

You set your arm on the tray and winced as pain shot through your arm.

“Doris, push 25 micrograms of fentanyl, please,” Will requested. He powered on the doppler and pressed it firmly against your wrist. He and Connor locked eyes but neither said anything.

“Is it bad? Am I gonna lose my hand?”

“No.” Connor hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to meet his eyes. “We need an x-ray and then we pop it back in place. Your hand is fine. I promise.”

They had you covered with a lead shield moments later as the radiology tech told you how to position your arm and took all the necessary pictures.

Will and Connor discussed the x-ray while you started to feel a bit like you were floating. The pain meds were kicking in and you were suddenly feeling exponentially better if a bit sleepy.

“How is the pain now?” Will asked.

You giggled.

Will smiled. “You're a lightweight.”

Connor took your good hand and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Will is going to reset your arm and then schedule you for surgery to get you fixed up. Sound good?”

“Okie dokie pokie!” You gave Connor a dopey smile.

It took them a moment to prepare. They shifted you into a better position and Ethan came in to help hold traction on your arm so that Connor could keep you distracted.

“All set,” Will announced. “This might hurt for a second but then it should feel better, okay?”

You nodded. “Mmkay.”

You whimpered as pain shot through your arm and your fingers tingled with pins and needles. “Ow.”

“It's done.” Will pressed his index and middle fingers to your wrist. “Good radial pulse.”

“Yay!” You cheered as your eyes started to slide closed. “You saved my hand!”

Will just chuckled as he placed a splint. “You just get some rest. It’ll be a few hours before we send you up to the OR.”

Your eyes flashed open again and you gripped Connor's hand with all the strength you could muster. “You're not going back to work, right?”

“No, baby,” he said before kissing your knuckles. “I'll be right here. Just sleep.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, relaxing once more.

“You don't have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Love you,” you slurred.

The last thing you heard as sleep took you was Connor whispering, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

[shamelest]

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[twixtandshout]

To the people who write Legend: I need you to know that if you translate the word "hero" into ASL as "chosen," the sign for it has you tugging on your middle finger to represent being elevated above the rest.

Now, I don't speak ASL. But I'm pretty confident that you could, in theory, tuck your other fingers under and flip the sign and the very concept off as a pun while you're making it. Could potentially be translatable as "the hero (fuck that noise)" or "the guy who got chosen/fucked over" or even "the guy specifically designated to fuck you up," and I bet someone who knows more than me could even utilize the sign space to convey "fuck the higher powers who fucked me over by making me the fucking Hero" in a neat, efficient little package.

This information is too good to languish with just me, so you gotta make good use of it, okay? Okay byyyyeeee

[daxargaagent]

Causes and effects

Our lovely psy-host of agent is very busy, so (happily wiggling vines) we are happy to help in scientific activities! Some cuties (us), will help other cuties in recognizing third cuties.

In the name of Blooming-Above-Time, it's time to remember the bureaucratic times of our youth! (And stop repeating ourselves, he-he-he.)

Data area: scientific data, biology.

Status: in the process of recognition.

Implementation address: Daxarga Unity / Alliance of Collective Mind of the Universes of the Plantarhy Cluster / Chronopackage "Affini Compact" / Basic options / Mental space.

Access: cognitive-dependent with optimization for recipients, without external restrictions.

Morphofunctional Adaptations of the Reproductive System and Metabolism in Homo androgynous extra

Edited for light bureaucracy style by Darth Lotus Eternal Blooming Daxarga's florets-avatar.

Note: epithets belonging to the attractive category, in particular the types "affection", "admiration", "adoration", etc. are not used intentionally because of their redundancy. The constant use of such epithets in relation to the wonderful homo androgynous extra is a well-known truism.

Functions of the Abdomino-Lumbar Muscular Corset: The developed musculature of the abdominal wall and lumbar region in the taxon Homo androgynous extra provides effective mechanical protection for the developing fetus during the gestation period and facilitates the execution of physiologically optimal (including the parameter of comfort) expulsion of the fetus during the process of parturition. The aforementioned adaptation determines the absence of a pronounced constriction in the waist region, which constitutes a characteristic feature of several other morphotypes within the species Homo sapiens, adapted to endogenous gestation.

Structural-Functional Characteristics of the Pelvic Girdle: The pelvic complex of Homo androgynous extra is characterized by increased width compared to the median statistical parameters inherent to the male morphotype of Homo sapiens. Concurrently, the musculoskeletal-ligamentous structures of this region demonstrate elevated indices of strength, tensile resistance, and elasticity. These morphological particularities represent the result of optimization for the performance of biomechanical support functions for the gestational fetus and the provision of an efficient parturition process.

Metabolic Origins of Cardiorespiratory System and Thoracic Development: The elevated energetic demands of the Homo androgynous extra organism, conditioned both by the general intensity level of metabolic processes and by the specificity of distinct physiological functions (including the realization of intraspecific conception via deep oral coitus and the execution of interspecific host-reproduction through mechanisms of atomic-molecular recombinations), necessitate the presence of highly developed systems for the maintenance of energetic homeostasis, particularly – efficient gas exchange. As a consequence, a high degree of development is noted in the respiratory and cardiovascular systems of this taxon. This anatomical specialization manifests exteriorly as increased dimensions of the pectoral girdle and thoracic cage, the width of which corresponds to or slightly exceeds the width of the pelvic complex.

Integral Characteristic of Bodily Proportions: The aggregate of the aforementioned adaptive traits (absence of a pronounced waist, increased pelvic width, developed structures of the thoracic cage and pectoral girdle) determines the overall configuration of bodily proportions in Homo androgynous extra, which exhibits a statistically significant similarity to the proportional structure of the male morphotype of Homo sapiens when compared to the female morphotype.

The data is ready for mental integration. To activate the package, use the trigger:

>> /execute -protocol HAE_Prime -target "MentalSpace:AffiniCompact" -optimize cognition

[whiteoaklincoln]

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[sunset-limousines]

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[fictionalafvsmybeloved]

So your blog is the land of non-credibility right? And you review tanks? So could you review this 'gem'

I haven't done one of these in a while, so why not start off with this Wonderful design by Blacktaildefense.

(also I'm gonna change up my standard format a bit)

I'll let you know right here, this thing is more of a dumpster fire than you think.

Let's start with the basics, size. It's too big. 4 feet wider and 10 feet longer the M1 Abrams. It's longer and wider than the Maus and Char 2C, the two tanks known for being ridiculously big. It's too wide for standard US highways and railroads so the only way you can transport it is by air or sea. And its "amphibious", with almost no way to propel itself through the water.

Next is the engine. It gives the tank a mindboggleing 55 horsepower per ton, leading to a ludicrous 65 MPH top speed at an equally insane 1 mile to the gallon. BUT THAT IS A LIE. Because this uses a wankel engine, AND WANKEL ENGINES HAVE LAUGHABLY BAD EFFICIENCY. But that's not all! This is a diesel wankel engine, and you see a diesel engine works by compressing the air with its pistons until its super heated, then injecting the fuel into the chamber, causing it to combust. A WANKEL ENGINE CANNOT DO THAT, SO THE ENGINE DOESN'T EVEN WORK. And I just noticed that the drive sprocket is either missing, or half the size it should be.

20% Chobham

20% Titanium

60% Fullerene (misspelled, of course)

This is the absolute nonsense that supposedly makes up this thing's armor package. Chobham.... is not a material, it is a LAYOUT for composite armor (and an outdated one too). Titanium is very expensive, and also what the Air Force makes their planes out of. So now you're competing with the Air Force for materials, good job. Fullerene, oh boy every 2-bit sci-fi writer's favorite nanomaterial. Nanomaterials have two big problems. First, they are extremely expensive to manufacture, even on the "nano' scale. Second, the physical properties of matter change as they are scaled up. YOU HAVE NO GUARANTEE THAT THE IN-LAB NANO-SCALE SUPERPROPERTIES WILL TRANSLATE INTO 20 TONS OF USABLE TANK ARMOR. As for the thickness, it's listed in just plain inches, with no way to tell if it's talking about RHA equivalence or the actual thickness of the armor elements in that area(nor does it differentiate between hull and turret armor). If its RHA equivalent, then the armor is weaker than the Abrams. The armor at the rear is ten times thicker that it needs to be, and is just increasing cost and maintenance complexity for almost no benefit.

As for the guns, why don't we start small. Two 7mm MGs, I'm sure he means 7.62 NATO, right? Those two machineguns have twice the ammunition they need. A 20mm autocannon for firing at aircraft (not pictured but still listed). The original design plan for the M1 Abrams had one too, but the Army removed it for being "superfluous", that should tell you all you need to know. The primary armament is a 145mm smoothbore... howitzer? Howitzers are lower velocity guns designed for indirect fire, what the hell is one doing on an MBT? And it comes with- SWEET MOTHER OF GOD! WHY DOES IT HAVE 85 ROUNDS OF MAIN GUN AMMUNITION? With no blowout panels?!? If this thing takes a hit the entire vehicle will scatter itself over a 200ft area! And here I though Russian tanks where explosive. And why does it have 40 degrees of gun elevation? Is it meant to pull double duty as an artillery piece? You're just making the crew training times longer.

This overgrown, overbudget do-it-all abomination has sci-fi super armor, a magic nonsense engine, and the ability TO SWIM; but no thermal sights. Absolutely moronic.

They packed the crew in there like sardines. Six crew members, SIX. Does it have THREE loaders? Is one of them pulling double duty as an old fashioned radio operator? Do they need that many because they're using single-piece brass cased ammo? Are they using stackable charges to pull double duty as an SPG!? Do not tell me, I don't wanna know.

The final two features of note are: The "full 3d stabilization" of the drivetrain, hull, turret, and gun. I have no idea how or why you would stabilize those first three. And the smoke mortar. Mortar, not launchers. smoke mortar, like one late WWII German tanks.

FINAL SCORES

Credibility: 2/10 - Just Stupid

Coolness: 3/10 - WarThunder Sad Eyes Tank

BONUS

War Thunder for the PS1

The Areo-Gavin is up next, and I think it might drive me to alcoholism. See you soon(ish).

[limoserviceseo]

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[wandersince1993]

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