#cement dealers nearby

[wondercementpvtltd]

Role of an architect in the construction project

An architect is a person hired by a client to construct any project. An architect's major role is to plan, design, and organize a project's construction as per the client's ideas and requirements. He plays a crucial role in the construction project and is responsible for creating the overall vision for a building or structure and for ensuring that this vision is translated into a functional and safe design. 

Since India is a developing country, there is a huge scope of rapid construction activity of roads, residential buildings, commercial buildings, sea bridges, etc. The government has planned to achieve the goal of a $5 trillion economy by the end of 2025. According to the Economic Survey, India has to invest around $1.4 trillion in infrastructure development to achieve the goal of a $5 trillion economy. In November 2022, the World Bank estimated that India will need to invest $840 billion over the next 15 years, or an average of $55 Billion per annum, into urban infrastructure. It is estimated that by 2036, around 600 million people in India will adopt the urban lifestyle, which will be almost 40% of the total population. Therefore, this particular statistic clearly indicates that this will create many opportunities for architects. Hence there will be a huge demand for an architect in the construction project.

Role of an Architect

The first step in a construction project is the conceptual design stage. Here, a meeting is initially conducted between a client and an architect, and as per the client's requirements, the goals, budget, and site design are finalized. The architect will then create a conceptual design that meets these requirements, considering factors such as zoning regulations, building codes, and the surrounding environment. Once the design is approved, the architect moves on to the schematic design stage, where they create detailed plans and elevations of the building. During this stage, the architect will work closely with engineers and other consultants to ensure that the design is structurally sound and meets all necessary building codes and regulations.

The next stage is the design development stage, where the architect creates more detailed drawings and specifications for building construction. This includes floor plans, electrical and plumbing layouts, and details of the building's exterior and interior finishes. The architect will also coordinate with other consultants and contractors to ensure that the design is feasible and meets the client's needs. The contractors will take care of the necessary things by arranging the quality materials like steel, bricks, timber, rock, stone, sand, tiles, the best cement in India, and other building materials. If the construction project is not big enough, then some of these building materials are available in the shop of any cement dealers nearby.

After the design development stage, the architect will move on to the construction document stage, where they create detailed construction drawings and specifications that will be used by the contractor to build the building. This includes structural drawings, electrical and plumbing schematics, and detailed instructions for the construction of the building's various systems and components. The architect will also review and approve all submittals, such as shop drawings, product data, samples, and mock-ups submitted by the contractor, to ensure they comply with the construction documents.

During the construction phase, the architect takes important updates by monitoring the contractor's progress and ensuring that the building is constructed per the plans and specifications. The architect will visit the site regularly to monitor the progress and review the contractor's work for compliance with the plans, and provide guidance and direction as needed. They will also coordinate with other consultants and contractors to ensure that the work is proceeding smoothly and that any issues that arise are addressed on time.

Architects are also responsible for the aesthetic design of the building, which is one of the most important aspects of a construction project. A building that is visually pleasing and harmonizes with its surroundings can significantly increase the value of the property and the surrounding area. Additionally, a good architect will consider the environmental impact of the building and strive to use sustainable materials and methods to reduce the building's carbon footprint.

Finally, the architect will conduct a final inspection of the building to ensure that it has been constructed per the plans and specifications and that all necessary permits and approvals have been obtained. Once the building has been completed and all necessary approvals have been obtained, the architect will close the project.

In conclusion, the role of an architect in a construction project is vital. They are responsible for creating the overall vision for a building or structure and for ensuring that this vision is.

[madfishmonger]

The Vibe Dealer

The warehouse you were given directions to looks exactly like the building you imagine when you hear “warehouse” – a low, long building made of brick and nearly no windows, the small human-sized door looking even smaller next to the huge transport doors. All the windows and doors are closed, some even with wood nailed over top, but that barely contains the heavy bass emanating from within. The rumbling, rhythmic beat eases any concerns you have about having the correct address. After tidying up your outfit and hair, feeling pretty good about your look tonight, you head up the metal ramp toward the metal door and the large, imposing bouncer sitting beside it.

The bouncer turns their steel-grey eyes toward you with an expression so blank it makes you a little uncomfortable, and you fumble the little card you received as invitation. You manage to grab it before it hits the concrete, and hand it over. Smooth, you think to yourself, not even in the door yet and I’m flubbing it. Be cool. The bouncer looks at both sides of the card and without a word, stands and opens the door, holding it until you walk through. You do your best to get inside both quickly and gracefully but manage neither, and then the door closing so firmly behind you makes you involuntarily jump. You stop in the darkness of the doorway to compose yourself and let your eyes adjust, which takes a moment as the huge room is weirdly lit. You’ve entered at the end of the rectangular room, just inside the corner on the long end. To your left is a wall with washroom signs on it, to your right are a set of couches and low tables, filled with people drinking and talking to one another, their voices muffled and incomprehensible against the thumping, pounding beat. You walk past the couches, and glance over to see if you can spot the friend that invited you, you realize you can’t see a single face. The bar is visible now on the left, a large but haphazardly-created thing with coolers below and nothing else but a small tip jar. You walk toward it, hoping your friend is also at the bar, but don’t see them. There’s something in the back of your mind nagging at you, something about their faces, but you quiet the fears. You’re always nervous in new places, especially parties, and you knew you were taking a chance coming out tonight. You’re good, you find yourself almost speaking aloud, but catch it in time, steeling yourself for the social interaction. Arriving at the bar, you open your mouth to speak and the bartender hands you a beer in a small, squat bottle. Taking it, you thank the bartender and ask how much? The bartender waves you off with a smile. You smile back, toss some money in the tip jar, and take your stubby with you toward the dancefloor. Perhaps if you stand in the light your friend will be able to find you.

The dancefloor in this warehouse is like nothing you’ve ever seen. Between four huge square cement pillars, stage lights have been hung so they point downward toward the floor in a frenzy of movement and colour. Lasers pierce the fog that seems to flow in from nowhere (shouldn’t you be able to see the fog machines? the little voice in the back of your head nags) and more people than you imagined would be at this kind of party fill the space (why can’t I see their faces?), gyrating, swaying and dancing with abandon, and the music finally begins to register as you pay attention to it (why is that beat so hypnotic?).

I AM THE VIBE DEALER

Drones the deep, synthetic voice from the speakers.

24 STUBBIES IN THE CHILLER

You look down at the beer in your hand and laugh, the party organizers must have planned this.

SHOTS ALL AROUND IT'S TEQUILA

A cute young lady in a sporty black and white tennis dress and comfortable running shoes suddenly appears at your side with a tray of shot glasses. Several people nearby stop dancing to come over and you find yourself being toasted by a group of strangers. The tequila burns spicy-hot on the way down, leaving a chili taste on your tongue. You catch yourself laughing, maybe this party won’t be so bad after all. The group encourages you to join them dancing, and you do, but stay near the edge of the space so you can keep an eye out for your friend. The fog is extra thick here, but it doesn’t seem to bother you, in fact the longer you breathe it in the better you feel (It doesn’t smell like the fog they usually use in dance clubs...) and you begin to loosen up a little. The young lady with the tequila shots comes around again and you realize you’ve finished your beer. She hands you a shot glass and then another beer, and you start on that one too. You don’t usually drink so much or so fast, but something about this place and the people and the fog is fading your inhibitions (shouldn’t that worry you just a little?)

I AM THE VIBE DEALER

Is this a really long song, or are they playing it again?

MARIJUANA WE DELIVER

So that’s what the fog is. This party must have been expensive!

BAD BOY BASS HEAVY HITTER

The bass is heavy, so heavy in fact that it should hurt. This music was being played at a volume that you think should make your ears hurt, the percussion is so deep you can feel your internal organs vibrating along to the beat, but not only does it not hurt, it feels good. You want more.

WITH MY TRIBE, WE BRING THE VIBE

The other dancers on the dancefloor are singing along, which seems natural and expected. You see that young lady in the tennis outfit again, but then you see her again, and again, and....is it that everyone is wearing that same outfit? Why didn’t you notice that before?

WE ARE THE VIBES

Chant the dancers in perfect unison (how did they do that so well?)

I AM THE VIBE DEALER

You realize the DJ is the one singing this to the music, it’s not pre-recorded, and your legs start moving you toward the DJ booth, all thoughts of finding your friend forgotten. The hypnotic beat, the beer and tequila that keeps appearing in your hands, apparently now of their own accord, no waitstaff needed (why are you going deeper in? Run away! RUN! Screams the little voice in the back of your head, but now it seems like the voice is coming from someone else, far away). The decks and speakers are set up above a stack of old wooden pallets, a tall curtain hangs behind it with a projector beaming strange animated images on to it. As you look up to get a look at the DJ, an animated explosion happens behind him and gives the strange effect of a glowing halo. He has dark hair, shaved on the sides, small black glasses, and long-fingered hands that move and flow with the beat. His dance and hand movement make you think of a religious leader calling forth his flock.

WITH MY TRIBE, WE BRING THE VIBE

WE ARE THE VIBES return the crowd. Somehow you can see them better now. They all seem to be wearing, no, not just wearing the same outfit, they are all the tennis-dress lady. There seems to be a second costume, no, the exact same body repeated over and over in horrifying perfection to a person – wearing a light blue fringed bikini.

I AM THE VIBE DEALER

This was not a lyric now, but a declaration – like a papal edict from on high. He brought the vibe, and the vibe was now the only thing you want. You move closer to the speakers, feeling the vibrations thumping in your chest, the pure ecstasy of the moment flowing through you on one level, while on another your logic and reason screamed with terror at the sight of the cut-and-paste dancers, the mind-altering substances, the hypnotic music...the nagging voice is finally silenced by the voice of the DJ.

WITH MY TRIBE, WE BRING THE VIBE

All you want now is to be a part of it. You look again and it seems all pretense has been dropped. The dancers no longer seem to be trying to look and act human, and you notice their heads are far too large for their bodies.

WE ARE THE VIBES

The big toothy mouths on the dancers sing. Their massive black eyes are all trained on you as they perform a dance routine in unison. The multiples? clones? copies? are all contained now on the dancefloor in front of the DJ. There are only two bodies – that of the sporty woman and the other wearing the fringed outfit, but they all have the same horrifying, disproportionate face with eyes and mouth far too large, a messy, synthetic black wig on their heads that moves with them like a helmet, and too-large teeth.

I AM THE VIBE DEALER

The horrors mean nothing now, the vibe dealer has everything you need. Whatever he is dealing is all you want, the ecstasy of the dance the only thing you want to feel.

24 STUBBIES IN THE CHILLER

SHOTS ALL AROUND IT'S TEQUILA

The alcohol is now all you need to survive, the thought comes to you like the knowing of a dream.

MARIJUANA WE DELIVER

The vaporized fog of pot smoke is all you want to smell, to breathe, to take deep in your lungs and taste of psychedelic heaven. It sustains you, lifts you, lightens your limbs as you join the chorus.

BAD BOY BASS HEAVY HITTER

You no longer have a heartbeat – the bass of the music beats it for you. You can never leave the boundaries of the sound, of the bass, or your organs will stop functioning. You no longer care.

I AM THE VIBE DEALER

Your saviour, your joy, your perfect percussive love. The grotesqueries are not eerie, unnaturally alike beings, they’re all your friends, your cousins, your lovers, your tribe.

WITH MY TRIBE, WE BRING THE VIBE

Your voice has joined the chorus, your mouth stretched wide over your overlarge teeth. Your huge eyes take in more of the light, and you can see another guest has arrived at the door you came in, fidgeting awkwardly with their invitation. Good, the little voice in the back of your head that once spoke for reason and sanity and reality has been replaced by the Chorus of Dancers. Another to join the Tribe!

WE ARE THE VIBES

Your voice is now the voice of the chorus, your legs the servant of the rhythm, your arms the property of the choreographer. You feel the power emanating from the chanting voice, creating more invitations, drawing more dancers in.

The tribe will grow, and you will help bring in more members every night. Every night, for eternity, you will dance. Dance for your life, for your tribe, for the vibe.

Inspired by this music video

[ukrainenews]

Daily Wrap Up July 27, 2022

Under the cut:

Ukraine attacks key Russian held bridge in Kherson

The first train with sanctioned goods has arrived from Russia to Kaliningrad via Lithuania

Biden administration offers convicted Russian arms dealer in exchange for Griner and Whelan

Russian forces have taken over Ukraine's second biggest power plant

“A key Russian held bridge into the occupied southern city of Kherson was hit with a barrage of rocket fire by Ukrainian forces who appeared to be stepping up operations to isolate the city.

Video and witness accounts showed up to 18 detonations on the Antonivskiy bridge over the Dnipro river, one of the main Russian resupply routes into Kherson, with Russian anti-missile air defences apparently failing to intercept the strikes.

Ukraine’s armed forces published a one-minute clip on Telegram purportedly showing the rocket fire just after 1am on Wednesday. “The moment of the flight over the Antonivskiy bridge,” the force said.

In another series of videos posted to Telegram where loud explosions could be heard, the military added: “Explosions in the Antonivskiy bridge area.”

The bridge has come under repeated attack in the past week as Ukraine has tried to cut off the handful of routes Russia can use to move heavy weapons in and around Kherson, including a road over the dam at nearby Nova Khakovka.”-via The Guardian

~

“The first train with sanctioned goods has arrived from Russia to Kaliningrad via Lithuania in the first such trip since the European Union said Lithuania must allow Russian goods across its territory, according to the regional governor.

Russian news agency Tass cited regional governor Anton Alikhanov as saying:

It is indeed the first train to have arrived after the EU decision ... [it is] quite an important achievement.”

The train reportedly consisted of 60 freight cars with cement.

Wedged between Lithuania and fellow EU and Nato member Poland, Russia’s heavily militarised exclave of Kaliningrad depends on mainland Russia for a sizeable portion of its supplies. But these must transit through Lithuanian territory.

The region has found itself increasingly isolated since Russia sent troops into Ukraine in February.”-via The Guardian

~

“After months of internal debate, the Biden administration has offered to exchange Viktor Bout, a convicted Russian arms trafficker serving a 25-year US prison sentence, as part of a potential deal to secure the release of two Americans held by Russia, Brittney Griner and Paul Whelan, according to people briefed on the matter.

These sources told CNN that the plan to trade Bout for Whelan and Griner received the backing of President Joe Biden after being under discussion since earlier this year. Biden's support for the swap overrides opposition from the Department of Justice, which is generally against prisoner trades.

"We communicated a substantial offer that we believe could be successful based on a history of conversations with the Russians," a senior administration official told CNN Wednesday. "We communicated that a number of weeks ago, in June."

The official declined to comment on the specifics of the "substantial offer." They said it was in Russia's "court to be responsive to it, yet at the same time that does not leave us passive, as we continue to communicate the offer at very senior levels."”-via CNN

~

“Russian forces have taken over Ukraine's second biggest power plant, an adviser to President Volodymyr Zelenskiy said on Wednesday, following an earlier claim by Russian-backed forces to have captured it intact.

Seizing the Soviet-era coal-fired Vuhlehirsk power plant in eastern Ukraine would be Moscow's first strategic gain in more than three weeks in what it calls its "special operation" to demilitarise and "denazify" its neighbour.

"They achieved a tiny tactical advantage - they captured Vuhlehirsk," adviser Oleksiy Arestovych said in an interview posted on YouTube. 

Russia was undertaking a "massive redeployment" of troops to three southern regions, Arestovych said.”-via Reuters

[ratherhavetheblues]

CLAIRE DENIS: Nenette and Boni “I can feel it moving”

by James Clark  2023

Falling apart has had its fortune. In the course of tending to complete the film, Nenette and Boni, I expected (as with the double parts in the proceedings in, Both Sides of the Blade) a happy result. The strictness of the Henri  Mouron dealing put an end to that hope (“all rights reserved”). All I can say is that the graphic artist, A.M.Cassandre, was a giant, his advertising work, touching those who could engage the lithographic magic. That he ended his life by suicide, must not be a way of demeaning the effort.

We start with the city of Marseille. Many years ago, we would visit Marseille as vintage poster dealers, embracing the city’s rich lithographic treasures. Not only that, we became friends with one of the brokers. His home was one of the small islands nearby. We spent several happy days there. (During the War, the Nazis used it, in various ways. Long before that, there was a nefarious prison.) Our story today, Nenette and Boni (1997), focuses upon poisonous instincts. One could place the planet in this way: a very large group; and a very small group which finds something very different.

Along that way, we find a young man, Boni, of Marseille, sketching out a big problem, which could lead him to the few. In much of the saga, the only positives are that he doesn’t kill anyone. His wrath involves lucidity.

However, a crucial matter has to be in place. Planet Earth is rapidly dying. It is a sign of a form of insanity, that this matter is not focused. In a hundred years there will be no birds. Birds with more depth than humans. Birds having engaged and held their fortune, while humans overrate. Does that mean that transaction is over? Not at all. One’s reach of understanding, clearly overtakes the dimness of this rabid disaster called Earth. Other places would be of higher quality.

Our protagonist ignores such burdens, in order to attempt feeling that he’s on the right track. Boni’s idea of progress, and he’s got something there, is to ignore the past. He moves around, of course, but he doesn’t trust anyone. He moves around, however, largely because his father had given him a pizza business; and with that, also, took over his dead mother’s house. On the basis of those windfalls, Boni takes his time to grow up. (He does very little to maintain his “business,” and plays around with “collectible” cards.) It gets worse; it gets better. “I do solemnly swear to fuck her brains out… to love everything minute before draping her. I’ve milked this stupid joke for all its worth. I swear on my mother’s grave that no one or nothing will stop me. If even I don’t keep this oath, may I be branded a coward like my asshole father who left us…and may burn in hell eternally…”

Then he’s finicky about two stray cats in his yard. However, another matter, far from cavelier, materializes, namely, his long lost cousin, Nenette. This is the point we must disclose that very recently Nenette had been close to committing suicide in the sea. What are you waiting for, Nenette? That’s a good question? Something makes her get out of that danger. “Get out, on the double!” (But isn’t it the triple?) Denis being a master of the third, the dialectic.

Boni, the fat cat, does not rise to the matter of Nenette’s danger. She’s pretty much beyond effective interaction. (Her side of the family lacks the money to burn.) Boni’s old neighbor putting up the laundry. Boni smiles, “Is  the wind that’s got you so jittery?” Boni’s all over the place. And soon to be jittery. Inside he tells someone, “I’m gonna stick my dick up your crack.” Powerful, right! For all their differences, they’re in the same business. One could say that the bunny rocks! Boni says, “Good  morning. How are you? Can you feel my hot French stick?” Could he ever understand a thing? Ambiguity wandering around in women’s clothes. “I’ll eat her up.” Maybe. Nenette, looking over a cement wall. Twenty-four hours, and no recognition of Nenette. She sends over a flotilla of sweet buns. Boni’s now in a man’s clothes. All grey. On a drive, she’s left behind. Could they become vital? With a baker. “Don’t you ever sleep at night?”

The ways of Surrealism. “Why are you in my house?” Nenette: “There’s now food. I’m starving. It sucks here. You’re really pathetic. It’s my Mom’s house.”/ ” Lay off my rabbit. Go back to Sugar Daddy.”/ “Why are you screaming! I just wanted to talk, asshole!” (She did want to talk. She, in her scattered way, could [once in a while] recognize their possibilities.)/”Write me a letter. I do what I fucking want.” (With every word, they show their weakness.)

He tells her, “You’ve changed.”/”It’s normal.”/ “You got a little fat.”/ “No, I’ve grown…” (Her sense of being  better than she usually does). “Because I’m pregnant… It’s not a joke. It’s true… I don’t show. I have a small belly.” Or is it a small heart? These two would profess being daring. But where is the delivery? Where is the preparation?  “You screw up my day, and it’s not my business? You came here to hide out, didn’t you?” (Boni never delivers here, until the last few seconds of the film.) Here we see Boni, gobbling his meal out of a cheap take-out. Nothing but cheap?(But when the Beach Boys sang, there was a bit of magic. In the air… Can you touch it? A mirror. One of his hands. A way of truth, if you open, if you open your eyes and shut your ridiculous mouth.)Then there was boxing at the gym. Traction? Inert?

From here to the end, it’s Boni’s choice. The families are insignificant. Make your move. Nenette at the doctor’s: “If he’s sleazy, I’m leaving.” The black doctor was not only professional, but also passionate –a tone never true by the cousins. He tells her, “Breathe deeply.” (A big challenge.) “Knees in tight… There! Very good. I’d  say you’re at least five months pregnant.”/”But I’ve barely gotten fat?” /”That doesn’t mean a thing. It’s your build.” (Nenette counting on a quick abortion.) “An Ultrasound will tell us more.” The questionable patient declares, “Knock, Knock! What’s there!” Cut to Boni, in the waiting room, looking at a piece of the doctor’s walls. Many hands in the waiting room. The doctor discovers, “You lied to me. You’re not 18. It’s my job to be able to tell me how much.” The doctor is a gentleman. Nenette has pretty much become a thug. The next fabrication is one that the doctor should have understood. He asks, “Who’s the boy in the waiting room, your friend?” In a flash, she invents, “My husband, but he doesn’t want to be known. This is nothing of his business…” / The doctor asks Boni, “Would you mind stepping in here.”/ The loud-mouth says “This is none of his business.” (Stupid power while being hopeless.) The doctor tells her, “It is his business. He has to face up to his responsibility… “(Going off the rails. Close to a farce.) Boni asks, “Is this serious?”/ “It is but the doctor fails to understand how poisonous “my husband” is.” So the coverage is wrecked. The doctor gets back to his skills: “No, everything’s fine. Sit down.” (Cut to the doctor, writing. He has written something to the couple.) “Here! You want to have  any hospital bills to pay.” The (too) nice doctor tells Boni, “I need to know how pregnant you are, how changed you are. I’m counting on you for the ultrasound. (Moreover, the sweet doctor had come to understand that Nenette, if ever she were able, was beyond it now. An ugly disposition feeling beaten by something extremely demanding. Beaten from the casual love that needs extreme attention. It isn’t impossible. On other planets, surely, merely elevations could be more than that! Your wife is confused, but it’s only normal. Normal indeed! A satin touch… A well-planned childbirth can be wonderful.)

Boni tells her, “You cost me a lot… So now you’re not getting an abortion…” (That brings out a string of savagery.) She  tells him, “Nothing’s decided yet… Three fingers… a good number… She covers her face with her hair… Boni, in the dark… A  new girlfriend… His nude presence… Her belly… She stretches out… Boni  shoots at a figure with his rifle… Next time I’ll kill you… “Daddy understands” [hoping Nenette would open the locked door].In that melee, even coitus has a go.

The doctor. Fetal test. The white clouds  in the machine, in the dark, showing off the baby to come. “Very good. Everything looks fine. Look! You can see its profile. Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”/ “No.”/The nurse announces, “Anyway, he’s kicking up a storm.” (The storms of life are hidden in deep hiding places.)/ ” Let’s get something clear. If you are thinking of an abortion, it’s too late.”/ Her response; “I’ll have it somewhere, and kill it.”/Boni slaps her for saying that. “You’re like an animal. Worse than an animal!  I can feel it moving.”(She’s not pleased.)  Nenette. “It won’t come out. He hates me.”/ “We’ll find a foster family. We call this a “Jane Doe” birth. I have to make sure you understand one thing. Your decision is irreversible. Just remember, once you’ve decided, there’s no turning back. But, as I said, it will have a family…but no name.”

Another practitioner.”Is she next? I’ll be in the cafeteria. See you later.” Nenette begins, “It better not hurt.”/ “It’s too late, sweety. And don’t moralize me. You have an attitude problem.”/ “Fuck! Fuck! This fucking hurts!”/ “I know it hurts.Try pushing. You’re not pushing! You don’t want to… Push!… Again!… There you go”/….”I want this to end!”… The baby cries. Nenette cries. Baby in basket.

Now the end. Boni, to the hospital, sort of. He “drops the flowers… ” , sort of. Nenette gone.  Here’s a fantasy with power. On the balcony with his rifle, and then having picked up the baby… An eye. Two sets of hands. Boni caresses the baby. Face to face. He kisses the baby. “How are you doing, baby? Wake up…” A smile on his face. Wake up. (A good line.) The baby cries in Boni’s arms. Baby responds to Boni’s embraces. Baby asleep. Boni smiles. “Yeah, you pissed on me!”

One more time! Nenette’s hard eyes.There is a strange and melancholy connection between our two most recent essays. Marcel Proust, after a long, brilliant discovery in literature, came to see that it was not real, not strong enough. As if there had to be a great finish. Months in the hospital. Then, only, a flow of irony. A.M. Cassandre, face to face with imagery to heighten the skies. Unable to engage for a lifetime. Finding death best.

Cassandre at his best!

[riveroak-tanuj]

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[a-shared-experience]

There’s a spot in the north side that most people are afraid of. It’s where I responded to my first overdose. Oxygen was 25 for over ten minutes. Intubated. Bagged. Cpr. Flooded with narcan. We’d revived them by the time Ems arrived.

I knew the dealers, the gangs, the addicted … they invited me into their space and I’ve never had any real issues. One of the girls is high up in a local gang and she can be vicious to the staff so usually I deal with her. She makes everyone around respect me and tells them I’m gonna be real high up someday. She tells them I’m a boss. I laugh and thank her for the hype. I know she has to act tough and that’s ok. It’s not like I’ve never acted tough right. I saw her today and asked her how she was and she said she didn’t know. “ my partner overdosed and they took him off life support yesterday. They wouldn’t even let me say goodbye. They just treated me like a fucking addict. I was with him for 20 years, we have kids, I don’t know what to do , I’ve just been drinking”

I ask her if I can sit and she moves a weapon off the cement and motions for me to sit down.

She asks if we have any cigarettes and I tell my nurse to give her some. She hands her two and I say … give her more. I would lose my fucking mind if I was stigmatized and robbed of that dignity. It’s not like I don’t remember what it feels like to watch someone die that I love very much.

I help her light the cigarette and I tell her I’m sorry.

She looks at me and says, “ I can’t fucking do this anymore”.

“I know”.

I worry about her, he protected her out here. Mostly everyone was scared of him , he was a big guy, I’d once sat with him while he cried and I never mentioned it to anyone which earned me street cred. We’d bandaged him up for rubber bullet wounds from the cops, a dislocated knee cap, a few drug poisonings and I even took transit for 45 minutes once to help out when he got bear maced. I brought clothing and washed his face with medical grade wipes and used dish soap and water on his belongings. To be honest when his surgical staples got infected post surgery I ratted him out to his girl and we forced him to see a doctor. He didn’t love that but he was thankful afterwards. He was both a dealer and user of methamphetamine and died of a fentanyl poisoning. The group was very quiet today. The last person lost from the group had been murdered , now this. Another lady came and sat with us and told me she wanted out. She told me she had kids and was stuck in addiction and gang life and wanted something better than jail or death. I told them both they deserved a happier life. Come see me and we can apply for housing together , I tell them. Once you have a place that’s safe we can look at treatment options ok. I stay a little longer because it’s rare that women in gangs will be vulnerable and I could feel how much they were hurting.

I had no idea that he’d passed. He wasn’t houseless so no one let us know. Both women just kept saying, “ i have no one out here, there’s nobody left”.

My soul felt heavy as I walked away.

We walk to a nearby park and I find these two kids shooting up that I hadn’t seen in awhile

“Holy fuck where have y’all been” I held my hand to my heart and they smiled. “ shit you really do care about us “ one said.

I give them food and narcan, water and hygiene products. I feel so relieved. They are so sweet.

I know that we aren’t supposed to get attached but we work with these people every week, sometimes every day. You get so fucking burned out that sometimes being able to make them smile is what gives you the strength to keep going.

I’ve been told that im strong more times than I’ve been told that im smart or pretty. Maybe it’s why my self esteem tends to dip because inside im often hurting. Im an imposter of strength but I guess … you have to be strong to handle this shit. Anytime I’ve ever asked for help people look at me like im needy or clingy and I just end up figuring it out on my own.

Lately it’s been hard to be strong. If I’m honest, I’m scared. My staff is burned out, experiencing post traumatic stress disorder for the first time, witnessing violence and constantly on high alert for safety.

Yesterday we found a man unconscious in the middle of the road. We were checking oxygen and trying to wake him up while checking for oncoming traffic when a group I didn’t recognize started screaming at us. They called us cunts, useless white bitches, and threatened us. The nurse looked at me afraid and said, “ what do we do”

“ look at me, we don’t do anything, check the vitals, we need to get him up and off the road ok. Don’t make eye contact with the gang, I’m watching them and I’ll let ya know when we’re leaving ok”

My eyes are scanning a full 360 while I create the illusion that I’m looking at nothing. There’s an entire gang across the street in one direction, a few men further down the parking lot with severe mental health problems and severe addiction, a schizophrenic girl behind us that we’d already done a wellness check on and a huge encampment at the back of the parking lot. I just need to wake this guy the fuck up.

Lately the community has been triggered anytime someone is overdosing. There’s so much aggression, psychotic breaks and violence. Even offering a narcan kit to the wrong people can trigger them. It’s scary. Violent, repeat offenders of crimes such as rape and murder are being released onto the streets of this city. They mix in with the houseless folks and create a dangerous environment for us all. I’d sat and talked to a young girl that had witnessed a stabbing awhile ago - today her name shows up on my email - deceased.

I shouldn’t have to be afraid of violent sex offenders after already experiencing rape, I fucking hate this broken system. The days lately are more about hyper vigilance for my own safety and less about how I can help the most vulnerable.

I pray to be the strong girl that everyone perceives me as

I’m not here to play cops and robbers- the two bad guys. I’m here to save lives and help people on their journey to recovery from drug addiction. A friend who has time for their trauma.

There’s a lot of darkness in this place, in this world.

I don’t want to be afraid to be the light.

Something’s gotta change here.

[wascrapmetal]

The New Technologies Changing the Scrap Metal Industry

Salvaged material assortment and deals have been around for a really long time, however headways in innovation are fundamentally impacting the manner in which the business works. From better approaches for gathering salvaged material to creative selling strategies, these advances are altering the salvaged material industry. Peruse on for a portion of the developments changing how we gather and sell to Scrap metal dealers

On location Squander Measures

"Brilliant" receptacles and compartments for gathering salvaged material are outfitted with sensors that can identify when they are full and should be purged. This implies more productive and opportune assortment, lessening expenses and bother and expanding benefits.

On building locales, savvy assortment of scrap can appear as new reusing and recovery preparing for laborers, programmed isolation or reusing of waste, and even nearby reusing. An on location reusing focus could pulverize cement and block waste to use as refill or total or shred wood waste to make mulch or biomass fuel.

Versatile Salvaged material Handling

Versatile piece handling is another advancement changing how salvaged material is gathered and sold. Versatile processors can be brought straightforwardly to the site where the salvaged material is found, taking into consideration faster handling and more productive assortment. This innovation is especially helpful for distant regions where shipping salvaged material to a handling facility may be hard.

Man-made reasoning (simulated intelligence)

Man-made reasoning is being utilized to streamline the salvaged material assortment and deals process. By dissecting information on past deals, man-made intelligence can assist with rejecting metal vendors decide the best chance to sell their materials and at what cost and distinguish patterns on the lookout, considering more essential independent direction. Coordinated factors cerebral pains are a significant focal point of the freshest in simulated intelligence tech, as the most effective approaches to gathering and managing scrap are uncovered.

The Block chain

Block chain innovation is progressively utilized in the Scrap Metal recyclers industry to give a solid and straightforward strategy for following the production network. What's the significance here? More or less, simply making a computerized record records each exchange, as far as possible from the assortment of salvaged material through to its deal. This implies it forestalls misrepresentation and guarantees all gatherings required during the interaction are paid decently.

3D Printing

3D printing can make new items from salvaged material. Breaking down and reusing salvaged material with 3D printers implies making new parts and items that can then be sold for more noteworthy benefit. This is especially valuable for making custom parts that might be hard to track down somewhere else.

Develop Your Business with Activity Metals

That's it: a portion of the new innovations that are fundamentally impacting the manner in which we gather and sell salvaged material. From shrewd canisters and versatile processors to computer based intelligence and blockchain, these developments are making the business in general more effective, beneficial, and supportable. In addition, as interest for salvaged material keeps on developing, we can anticipate that significantly more headways in years should come. Indeed, even things we can't yet envision!

The group at Activity Metals is continuously tracking down ways of working on our office and cycles to more readily serve our clients and local area. Trust us to assist you with on location cleanup, metals ID, scrap pickup administrations, and exact weight evaluations. Get in touch with us today!

[surrealinkrpstories]

FuckinSurreal

/The drive downtown toward the tattoo shop Natalya had gotten her work done had been slow going, the main drag shut down for the local night life. I found parking near the address and slid out of the leather bucket seat grateful that the gas lasted; I slowly crept through the dark streets passing a few partially lit alleys where my keen eyes caught some slide of hands. Yep. I had definitely found the shadier side of town. Being on the streets for so long you saw your fair share of vandals, killers, and drug dealers.

The toe of my combat boots tapped impatiently on the cement steps leading up to the tattoo shop. I’d waited forever, the hour growing later with each passing drunken pedestrian stumbling by. My ears prickling at the sound of a woman’s shrill laughter in the not so far distance, a small group of men loitering nearby suddenly take interest in her as she ambles off shakily on her high heels. I scrub my palm roughly over my nape trying to avoid following behind to help the drunk woman if she needed it. I didn’t need to get involved. She wasn’t my responsibility.

I drop my head, thoughts swarming into darker areas. Maybe this was a mistake. My head lifts to look up and down the nearly empty night streets. The brick wall of the unlit tattoo shop was holding my tired body upright while my father’s harsh voice starts its loop in my head. “You’re a failure, face it. You’ll never amount to anything playing with ink and art.” I grit down on my molars, my forehead glistens with a thin sheen from the humid night as I attempt shaking the barrage of hateful words. A crash of thunder booms overhead followed by a crack of lightning streaking across the inky sky above to light it up brilliantly. My tense body jolts up in surprise. Fuck did lightning fuck with me. Ever since those insane dream episodes or pain filled dreams started plaguing me.

I throw up my hands to wash the sprinkles of rain over my face, the cool drops a reprieve from the heat, and the gathering storm clouds helping my mind move away from thoughts of my hard ass of a father. I growl out, thinking my luck was quickly running out. Maybe I could call up Natalya about a visit to her place. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me crashing for a night or two. I shake my head, thinking I’d mind once she started showing any sign of attachments or expectations. Groaning at that thought, I cross my arms over my chest to hold brace myself with thick fingers curled around my biceps as the drops slowly grow in size, each one splattering harder as the looming storm clouds rumbled louder.

It would be easier to pick up some small fights for some scratch. At least with my fists cracking some skulls, and the pounding to my bod it would help numb out all the venomous thoughts of my father and growing doubts.

I yank up the collar of my jacket with a huff of air, leaning away from the shop front with one last glance down the street. One brow jacking up when a tall lone shadowy figure steps out from behind a corner approaching the shop./

[texasmobilehome]

Texas Mobile Home Buyer | Fort Worth, TX 76137

Living to your mobile domestic has provided you a at ease, modest life-style, both as a snowbird retreat to escape the icy winters, a summer time getaway to beat the warmth, or as a number one residence to permit you to position cash inside the financial institution, however now you will be ready to transport on and are thinking a way to promote your cellular home. Whatever the cause, you want to be savvy and strategic for your technique to get the pleasant fee for your funding. Follow these expert suggestions to boom the probability of a successful sale.

Texas Mobile Home Buyers is the top mobile home dealer in the state of Texas. We buy mobile homes all over the state of Texas https://txmobilehomebuyer.com/ Are you getting evicted from your mobile home? -Looking for a quick cash offer -Need your mobile home removed from a property -Behind on lot rent to the mobile home park -Selling your mobile home as-is -Getting rid of a junk mobile home Please feel free to give us a call today to get a fair cash offer for your mobile home located in Texas.

Know the difference between personal and real property when selling a mobile home… Many mobile homes are considered personal property (the legal term for this type of property is “chattel”) rather than real property, meaning they’re sold a bit differently from a typical house. A cell domestic can be taken into consideration actual property if you personal the land it sits on (depending at the nation), and it’s attached to that land — commonly, that means it desires a foundation, though some states have a pretty unfastened definition of “basis.” in case your cellular domestic doesn’t fit the above criteria, it’s probably considered personal property. This indicates the home is handled as a movable asset, similar to an vehicle. Whilst you sell a mobile domestic as private belongings, you’ll transfer the title over to the brand new proprietor within the equal manner you would sell a vehicle, even as the land remains with its proprietor.

Get a pre-listing appraisal to catch installation and inspection issues early… As the name suggests, a pre-listing appraisal is conducted before listing by gathering data to calculate a home’s value. “An appraiser examines the area’s topography and locates the HUD Data Plate/Compliance Certificate to verify the home conforms to HUD’s Model Manufactured Home Installation Standards,” says Mason Spurgeon, a seasoned and certified general real estate appraiser serving Missouri, Illinois, and Iowa. Installation standards stipulate perimeter support pier locations, how homes should be anchored, and other legal requirements for HVAC, ductwork, electrical, plumbing, and drainage systems.

Partner with a top local agent with experience selling mobile homes Though selling a mobile home has its own set of challenges, Working with a pinnacle nearby real property agent allow you to navigate thru troubles consisting of agreement negotiations, disclosures, repairs and upgrades, housing enhancements needed, and advertising to get to the last table without delay. Homelight’s agent finder let you pick out and associate with neighborhood dealers with a track file of selling mobile homes. The usage of a few info that you offer approximately your house, we can suit you with the best retailers for selling your private home.

Sell your mobile home more quickly with these staging and landscaping tips… Ninety percent of homebuyers search online for traditional and manufactured homes before they book a showing with an agent, so make sure your home looks attractive in digital photo and video tours. There are a few cell homes which can be so properly performed and kept up so properly, it’s hard to tell it’s a mobile domestic,” says newton. Comply with those mobile home landscaping and staging guidelines to make a very good impact. Update vinyl skirting with stone, brick, or cement vinyl skirting can effortlessly tear from mowing and begin to appearance shabby. Choose a heavier cloth like stone or brick to no longer handiest make skirting final however additionally upload beauty and texture.

List your home as furnished to attract seasonal buyers… If you live in a warm climate that attracts snowbirds looking for a second home, consider listing your home as furnished. Take the decor up a notch by decorating in the local aesthetic. If you’re by the beach, lean into that with a fresh and airy beach cottage theme, for example. As with staging a traditional home, be sure to depersonalize your mobile home by removing family photos and similarly identifying items, to help buyers envision themselves and their belongings in your home. Promoting a cellular domestic presents new buyers with a cheap option for homeownership. With the proper statistics and promoting suggestions for your ownership, you’re prepared to begin the subsequent chapter of your life with self assurance and extra cash to your pockets, mainly if you accomplice with a top real estate agent skilled in promoting mobile houses.

Texas Mobile Home Buyer 4500 Mercantile Plaza Dr. Suite 300, Fort Worth, TX 76137 972-703-4742 pr@phoenixmobilehome.com

[aztekautog]

Auto Glass Shop in Sandy, UT - 84094

However many vehicle proprietors might suspect something, auto glass harm is exceptionally normal - even a little rock or a piece of flotsam and jetsam flung by an adjoining vehicle is to the point of resulting in minor dings or significant scratches on the windshield. So, windshield harm can happen whenever, anyplace. This is the place where you want an auto glass shop in Sandy, UT., that you can trust. A few companies might exploit your wellbeing and steer you to supplant your whole windshield in the event that one isn't proficient about the business. Just compensation for what you really want.

Your vehicle's auto glass takes the car's whole superficial edge. Which is the reason picking an auto glass shop in Sandy, UT., should be given adequate thought? One might feel enticed to just drive down to the closest nearby Auto Repair Dealer they've simply Google at, yet that is no assurance of value or real shopper worry besides. On the off chance that you observe your auto glass harmed, you should select proficient service quickly to reestablish it to its immaculate state. Prior to considering any auto glass shop, one must painstakingly evaluate the harms, and choose if one might even need a substitution or maintenance.

With the assistance of the web, observing the best auto glass shop in Sandy, UT., that works really hard at a legit cost has become more straightforward, as numerous auto glass fix and service organizations. Such organizations are difficult to find except if they have been alluded to. You need to understand that the wellbeing of your vehicle's tenants profoundly relies upon your windshield's uprightness and generally speaking quality. Here are the advantages of finding the best auto glass shop:

Prioritizing Safety

Numerous drivers in Sandy, UT., feel that it is OK to keep driving their vehicles with a break on their windshield. Notwithstanding, this isn't correct as it represents a genuine security danger. Your windshield works in original capacity until it is broken. Whenever it's harmed, the windshield turns out to be more defenseless to totally breaking if and when the following episode happens. To focus on well-being, one should not permit these to go any lower than that, and around then, totally need to supplant their broken auto glass.

Trained Technicians

An inappropriately installed windshield can improve the probability of your vehicle's rooftop collapsing and imploding, causing serious wounds in case of a rollover. Hence, you ought to continuously get your windshield replaced by prepared professionals. While choosing an auto glass shop in Sandy, UT., you should guarantee that the specialists utilized are talented and have involved insight. Experts who are prepared and experienced have the specific information that is expected to manage windshield replacement accurately. They will ensure the new windshield is introduced appropriately and will likewise deal with the glues with absolute attention to detail.

High-Quality Materials are Used

The material that is utilized to hold your auto glass set up is critical. The right auto glass shop in Sandy, UT., will just involve similar cement as the producer utilizes them. The urethane that is utilized has an intended to hold your auto glass safely set up during an impact. Best caliber doesn't have the substance cosmetics expected to hold up over the long haul. It can separate and prompt a windshield that is free. Wind commotion and water spillage are additionally conceivable when modest materials are utilized on a windshield.

Warranty

Most valid auto glass shops in Sandy, UT., offer a full or incomplete assurance or guarantee. On the off chance that an organization isn't doing as such, don't get your windshield introduced from them, regardless of how low the expense. A guarantee gives an affirmation of value on the craftsmanship. In the event that they are not certain about their own work to at minimum bequests an assurance of doing as such. This really intends that assuming you find an air spill or a water spill, you can get it dependably fixed by getting back to the shop.

Convenience

A great many people delay getting their auto glass fixed or replaced on the grounds that they come up short on spare energy to wheel their vehicle to a help place. In such a circumstance, pick an auto glass shop that gives versatile windshield fix and replacement service. Versatile windshield replacement is a much more helpful choice as the experts can go to your home or work or any area of your decision to deal with your auto glass misfortunes - ideal for crises.

In the event that accommodation is a first concern, which in such cases generally is, ask your auto glass shop assuming they give nearby help. Experts can come to the site of the occurrence or to your home or office to fix and replace the windshield whenever the timing is ideal. An organization that gives portable auto glass fix administration is devotedly proficient in their work.

Assuming you are searching for an auto glass shop in Sandy, UT., that fits the rules referenced above, then, at that point, at Aztek Auto Glass Inc in Sandy, UT., ought to be your pick, we offer veritable auto glass obtained. Read more.

[mysterystarz]

iwaizumi's 8: prologue

summary: before iwaizumi could arrive in tokyo, he'd have to make the biggest mistake of his life

word count: 1.4k

genres + themes: mild angst for plot development, fluff/satisfying ending, casino set up

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns/tasers

a/n: here is the prologue at last!! this was fun to write and this was even more fun to visualize! also a disclaimer that the marquellos casino is not a real casino in tokyo and is merely a figment of my imagination! i hope you guys like this <3 love you all

Iwaizumi Hajime had always been a man with a plan. He was notorious for this, and regardless of how much his friends teased him for it back in the day, those planning skills were their greatest asset. It had led them through some of the toughest situations they’d ever had to encounter and led them gloriously to the other side, one of success and victory.

Those skills were what cemented their bond all those years ago, back when they had been meticulous and careful with every move they made. They had always been the glue between ideas, stringing them together in a way that was manageable for them to execute.

Those skills ended up being his temporary downfall.

The vision of what would have been one of his most successful jobs lay shattered at his feet because he had miscalculated. A shot in the dark that terribly missed, leaving him deserted in a world he should’ve never been a part of.

Most men would regret it.

Iwaizumi on the other hand, never fell into that category.

FOUR YEARS AGO: THE ARREST

Under the dim lights of the Marquellos Casino, Iwaizumi had never felt more alive. It was filled with an ambiance that could only be described as addicting, as he traversed the floor. At every turn, there was a game, the chance to win big or lose it all. The pull of money was strong.

At his side, like he’d always be, was Oikawa, dressed in a dapper suit as he always was, smiling at the influential ladies all while signaling to Iwaizumi at every turn. Turning a corner, Oikawa raised a hand gently to place it on his shoulder, brown eyes scanning the casino alertly,

“We’re being tracked. Lady in the red dress over there.” Oikawa gestured to a beautiful woman at the back, turning to smile at her to diffuse the tension. “We’ve got to be careful. Do we have contact with the others?”

“I’m not sure,” He sighed, shrugging off his blazer. “Tech is controlling the rest of this to be beneficial, and it seems we’re on schedule. Can we get a read on who the hell that woman is?”

“You don’t need tech for that.” Oikawa chuckled, “That would be Sato Kaede, and I believe that she is in line to own this place.”

“You mean we’ve got Sato Haru’s daughter trailing us?” He frowned. “This wasn’t called for. It won’t be good having the owner’s daughter having an inkling of what we’re here to do.”

“Would it be safe to abort?” Oikawa questioned his brown eyes wide and cautious as he observed the shuffling of cards at a nearby table. “I feel it’d be riskier to leave. We should probably gamble. It’d distract her a bit.”

“I think we should stick to plan.” Iwaizumi mumbled, spotting an opportunity to join a game of blackjack. “Stay close and don’t wander too far. We’re still on schedule.”

What a mistake it had been.

Just as he sat down, Iwaizumi was confronted with a man, not much older than he was, observing the cards of the table. His eyes were downcast, a hand twitching silently at his pocket for nothing in particular. He was suspicious.

Perhaps he was new.

“Ever been around these parts?” He asked casually, watching the dealer expertly shuffle the cards. “You’re not a face I’m used to seeing.”

“Would that make you a regular?” The mysterious man asked, raising from the table. “Care to join me? This table isn’t exactly my style.”

He had seen no harm in it back then. It had been the most threatening thing in the room, and he didn’t even recognize it.

“Sure. I can spare a few minutes.” Slinging his blazer over his shoulder, he followed the man around the vast expanse of the floor, stopping at appropriate times to discreetly check on Oikawa, whose focus seemed purely on communicating with the rest of their team.

“So, Iwaizumi, how long have you been here?” The man asked, casually walking around the slot machines. “A few hours?”

“Barely,” Iwaizumi laughed, the thrumming in his veins increasing by the moment. His gut was screaming for him to get out of the building, bringing Oikawa and the rest of his gang with him to safety.

He wasn’t exactly sure though.

“You’ve been here for three hours and thirteen minutes with that man right...there.” The man brought his pointer finger to point to Oikawa. “Perhaps you thought that staying long would create assurance in the staff that runs this place?”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you referring to?” Iwaizumi seethed, feeling the anxiety settle into his bones. “Actually, I should get going.”

Just as he went to walk away, the man pulled out his badge, ugly and polished under the red lights of the casino. The sign of the police, the most dreaded enemy, in the middle of the floor, all eyes upon them.

Well fuck.

“Iwaizumi Hajime, you are under arrest for the suspected robbery of this casino with an amount of over ¥100,000,000 in your unlawful possession. Put your hands up in the air and don’t move!”

Iwaizumi tactfully bolted, running towards Oikawa, whose startled expression was enough to propel his legs even faster while the casino security chased after them, guns and tasers in hand as they expertly dodged the obstacles placed in front of them.

“IWA-CHAN, YOU’VE GOT TO TELL THEM!” Oikawa yelled as he sharply turned a corner, dragging Iwaizumi by the hand. “KUROO CAN HELP US, JUST KEEP UP!”

“OIKAWA, I’M GOING TO HAND MYSELF IN!” He felt his heart crush at the words, anticipating the hurt that their team would face. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the look in his best friend’s eyes.

They stared back at him, the look defeated, crushed, and ever so betrayed. “Iwa-chan...you...you can’t! We have places to go, things to do..we...WE STILL CAN MAKE IT!”

“Oikawa,” He said solemnly, feeling the dread creep in his system even further, “Only one of us can make it and distract them. The team will be safe with you and you can figure out why this didn’t go to plan. I miscalculated. Let me keep you guys out of trouble.”

Oikawa glared at him. “You’re serious? Iwa-chan...we...may never even see you again!” His voice was strained, but it held a level of understanding. “And this...this is your way of making sure it’s nobody else. Not me, not Kuroo, not the rest of them….but you!” Oikawa turned back to him, leaving a shaky fist bump as a farewell. “I can’t forgive you for this.” A tear slipped out of one of his eyes as he sprinted away, not once looking back.

Iwaizumi was cornered then, casino security and the police force handcuffing him as the red and blue lights overtook his vision.

PRESENT:

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” The parole board announced, gesturing to the seat. “Please, take a seat.”

He silently took the seat in front of them, meeting all their eyes in what he hoped looked like respect as they examined him.

“Iwaizumi-san, you were arrested for the suspected robbery of the Marquellos Casino owned by Sato Haru and his family. You have served four years of a ten year sentence, correct?”

“Yes, I have.” He nodded.

“Do you feel like you are fit to rejoin society, Iwaizumi-san.” The board sat there in silence as they watched his every move, from the way he straightened his posture to the lopsided smirk he couldn’t help but wear.

“Yes, I do feel like I have. These past four years have been vital for me to discover the wrongs in my ways and the methods I used to achieve what I used to consider glory. I know now that a person’s morals and character is the only thing that can provide them a sense of what they can achieve in life, and it seemed like four years ago, I had lost them all. I am here to say that if I could, I’d go back and tell the Iwaizumi that existed four years ago in that casino that he was making a mistake. I can’t though, and I’m more than willing to live with that knowing that I’ve learnt something from it.”

The parole board smiled at him, brandishing the stamp that granted his freedom on a sheet as they shook his hand and left him alone in the room with his thoughts.

All those bastards needed was the promise of change to let him go.

Needless to say, he had far better plans for when he was set to leave.

In fact, his first destination was to the city he’d come to miss over the four years in jail.

He was going to get himself a ticket to Tokyo.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

back to masterlist

taglist [send an ask to be included]: @missmorosis @ohajime @perqabeth @flushphoria @bokuatsubro @milktyama @shoyotime @sunarinluvr @sunamayo @iwasunshine @catchmewiddershins @haikyuutothetop @kousukii @cant-think-of-a-username @pockydays @itadroi @teesumu @ebiharachan

reblogs are very appreciated!! <3

[enchantedblackrose]

Safe Again

Not my image. Google image search

Pairing: Antonio/Fem Reader

Requested @fabyoliveira1999

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped when an undercover assignment goes wrong

¡Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, allusions of sexual assault, potential police brutality? All very in line with the show

A/n 1: this is a work of fiction. The gang and names used are completely made up and not meant to reflect any real persons. Thank you.

2: Part 2 will be a fluff drabble

Safe Again

A darkness overcomes you as you slip out of consciousness. The steady beeping of the machines around you are now frantic, their shrill sound piercing the ears of everyone around. 

Antonio yells out your name as hospital staff force him from your room. It isn't until Hank and Kevin pull him by his shoulders does he fully retreat. He sees a familiar face in the hallway and remembers a conversation he's been meaning to have.

"Halstead!" Antonio's voice shakes in anger. He stands face to face with the younger detective. His finger accusingly pointing.

"How the hell did this happen in the first place, man? You were supposed to have her back!"

Jay's voice was quiet. "I know." He drops his head in hands. "I'm so sorry, man. I should've pulled us out of there."

"You were supposed to watch her."  Antonio strains to speak, his tone is much softer this time as he fights back the tears threatening to spill. Wordlessly, he claps Jay's shoulder, giving it an affectionate and apologetic squeeze. None of this is Jay's fault. Antonio knows this and instantly regretted taking his emotions out on his colleague.

-72 hours prior-

You're sitting in the bullpen, having just been assigned to go undercover with your partner acting as your boyfriend. The idea being that the two of you would infiltrate the known drug gang the Scorpions as potential buyers and dealers for the more upscale neighborhoods the leader, Sammy, was trying to reach.

Your actual boyfriend is the first to speak. "Oh hell no. You're not doing this," Antonio tells you, earning a hard stare from you in return. "She's not doing this," he shifts his attention to Voight. "These...thugs are ruthless. They're killers."

Hank's eyebrow shoots up, wordlessly questioning Antonio. "Watch yourself there. Last I checked this was my unit. I give the orders."

"Sarge, if I may," you interrupt. "I'm willing to do this. I've successfully gone undercover before and I've gone alone," you remind not only your sergeant, but your boyfriend. "I want to do this." Your eyes fall to Antonio momentarily before looking back to Hank.

"Do whatever you need to prepare," he orders. You nod, reaching for your cell phone. Hank turns around and heads into his office. Antonio is hot on his heels, letting the door slam shut behind him after giving you a displeased look.

You huff an angry sigh. From his desk, Jay offers a sympathetic smile. "He's coming from a good place, y/n," he reminds you. "He's just scared. He knows you're more than capable of handling yourself out there."

Appreciating Jay's words, you nod your gratitude and make the call to set up this meeting.

//

You are fuming the entire walk up the stairs to your apartment. Antonio follows closely behind. You wait until the door closes completely before angrily spinning back in your heel to glare at him.

"Do you have any idea how demeaning and humiliating it is to not only have my boyfriend, but a superior colleague to react that way in front of my sergeant? Our sergeant? This is important, Antonio! And I'm not some rookie. I've done this before! You have no right-"

"You're right," his voice is calm and not at all what you expected to hear. "And I'm sorry, mi amor. I made sure to tell Voight before we left that I support you doing this and promised to not let my feelings compromise this case."

"Oh." You feel your anger start to dissipate. "In that case…can you order dinner, please? I'm going to take a quick shower." You stand on your tiptoes, pecking his lips softly with yours before heading to the bathroom.

//

Today was the day you and Jay, or rather your aliases Roxie and Ray (you relentlessly teased Jay about his lack of creativity), were meeting Sammy, having already built a rapport with some of the other members lower in the chain of command. If it went well, today should be the day you make the bust. Both of you step into the garage to meet the team and go over plans one last time. You're in a body flattering dress hitting right above your knees, Jay in a suit sans necktie.Your friends whoop and catcall  Part of your personas was playing a bored, wealthy, money-motivated couple and you had to look, not just act, the part. As Antonio approaches, Jay excuses himself saying he'll be in the car waiting whenever you're ready. Antonio's voice is quiet. "There's still time. Don't do this."

"I thought you supported me."

"I did...I do! I just can't let you-"

"Let me?" You yell, earning the unwanted attention of those nearby. You shake your head, hurt and disappointment shine in y/e/c eyes.  You walk away without another word, getting into the passenger side of the car

//

You reach the autobody garage the Scorpions use as a front. Immediately they pat you both down by a few members you've met during the time undercover. You're positive your inspection is more thorough as he squeezes your one ass cheek.

"Hey man," Jay shouts seeing you get groped.

"It's alright, babe," you wink. "Rico's only appreciating a good thing when he sees it." Rico smirks before declaring, "They're both clean."

Sammy, and another man you recognize from case files, Nic enter. "What's this? Who did you bring me?"

"These chumps are gonna be your new sellers."

Sammy's eyes hone in on you. You hold his gaze. "Hell naw," Nic says. "They brought you cops."

"Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "With this face and ass-he knows, he felt it," you point to Rico, "I'm too fine to be a cop." You flash a cheeky smile.

"Bitch, shut up!" The back of his hand connects with your right cheek. The stinging causes your eyes to water. Beside you, Jay flinches; it's hard from him not to react.

'Listen man, I don't know what you think is going on. We just-"

"You can shut up, too." 

You hear the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking, turning to see it pointed at Jay. Sammy gives a nod to one of the others. 

"Look out," you try to warn Jay, but it's too late. The butt of a gun hits Jay in the temple and he gets kicked at the back of his knee until he falls to the ground. His head hits the cement flooring hard. You don't understand why the team hasn't busted in yet.

Nic's gaze is on you. "You testified at Dierk's hearing." His fist swings and it makes contact with your jaw. It's enough to make you sway but you remain on your feet. "He was my cousin you, stupid bitch. Get her in the car. Leave him."

As you're forced into a black SUV, you manage to choke out a weak,"Jay, " your stained voice sounding unrecognizable to your own ears.

//

The equipment they sent you in with was faulty. Voight was furious as was Antonio. They whole worked diligently to get video or audio, anything to keep tabs on you and Jay. It's not until the SUV, with you unbeknownst to them inside, peels out, that the whole team moves in and finds Jay bleeding and unconscious on the floor. Kevin reaches him first. "He's alive!" he shouts to the others. Adam radios for an ambo before he and the others continue to clear the building. Kevin gently shakes Jay awake. He groans, hands instantly reaching the side of his head. He makes to stand.

"Easy there, brother," Kevin warns. Jay lets Kevin help him to his feet. "We've got a bus on the way."

Jay nods, "I'm fine. Where's y/n?"

"She's not here. No one is," Hank answers as the rest of the team draw near Jay. Jay's stomach plummets as he realizes they've taken you, his partner.

"Son of a bitch!" Antonio yells, kicking an oil drum.

"We work fast to get y/l/n back," Hank declares. "Check for surveillance, witnesses. We find that SUV and we find y/n. Alive

 Any means necessary.  Let's move." The team disperses and his hand clasps Jay's shoulder. "You get checked out by medics first." Jay opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it quickly. He nods his compliance. Hank and Antonio follow him to the ambulance that's just arrived.

"Hey boss," Jay speaks, with a tentative glance to Antonio. "This went south when Nic recognized y/n as the detective who testified against his cousin. Hank pursed his lips, but even in his anger, the color drains from Antonio.

"Voight," Antonio's voice almost cracks.

"We'll get her back."

//

Bloodied and bruised, you're alive with very little clue as to where you are. Your survival skills kick in.

You take note of your surroundings. You think you're in an unfinished basement of a residence. Definitely a lower floor as you remember being tossed down a flight of stairs. Your hands are bound behind your back and tied to a support beam. The door to upstairs is locked and even if it wasn't, based on all the noise coming from the floors above you'd never make it out undetected. 

The door opens and heavy footsteps make their way towards you. Nic comes into your line of vision.

You try reasoning with him, "As far as I'm concerned, nothing's been done that can't be undone. You just gotta let me go."

"You don't get it, do you? Maybe this will clear things up for you." He draws his gun, pressing it into the middle of your forehead 

"But first I'm gonna fuck you real hard." His face inches from yours. Nic pulls the gun away. His stale, hot breath reeking as he stands too near. You couldn't help but scoff before you throw your head into his, headbutting him with all the might you could.

He cries out in agony.

"Stupid bitch." He backhands you. Then grabs you by the chin. His furious eyes never leave you and a rough hand claws at the skirt of your dress. You feel cold metal pressed against your thigh. "First, I'm gonna fuck that tight pussy with my gun inside you then-"

"Why?" You smirk. "Afraid you won't be able to get it up?" So much for those survival instincts. Anger flickers across his face. His free hand makes a fist. You dodge his swing and he instead makes contact with the pole. This enrages him more. Hastily Nic puts the gun back in his pants. Both his hands wrap themselves around your neck.

//

14 hours have gone by. That's how long it's been since Antonio's last seen you. He's hurt and getting desperate. With less than two hours of sleep (Antonio only went home after Voight said he wouldn't be any help without some rest), he was out trying to find any witnesses, checking traffic cams, and placing calls to all his CIs in hope that any of them might be able to give a lead. When one of them started stringing him along, Antonio jacked the guy up against an outside brick wall near the precinct. That's when Kim found him. 

"We got something," she says in a hurry, fearing Antonio may do something he can't come back from.

The team picked up two Scorpion members and one is currently in the cage. 

"Five minutes, Hank. Just give me the key and five minutes alone with this guy," Antonio pleads to his sergeant. From the cage, the Scorpion chuckles. Antonio lunges causing the chain links of the cage to rattle. He appears more animalistic than human and the laughter does immediately. "Where is she, you bastard?" Hank looks at the guy, still refusing to talk, then he unlocks the door for Antonio.

"Are you crazy? You can't let him in here with me," he shrieks.

"Your boss has one of our own. And she just so happens to be his girlfriend, so you're crazy if you think I could really stop him if I wanted to," Hank answers before moving away from the door and heading upstairs. The door barely swings open before Antonio steps inside, knocking the guy to his ass with one punch. He picks him up by the shirt collar preparing another blow when Jay and Adam come flying down the stairs.

"Get outta here!" Antonio yells.

"We got an address. Atwater and Kim they picked up another member and he talked," Adam says breathlessly. Antonio hesitates.

"C'mon on man," says Jay, "He's not worth any more of your time. If y/n's there, let's go bring her home."

//

Hours have passed. How many you're unsure, but as they ticked by your hopes of being found or escaping  dwindled. Pain flows through your entire body. You sit on the cold, hard basement floor, unable to stand anymore. Nic had strangled you until you passed out. He never touched you like he promised and when you regained consciousness you were alone.

Shouts came from upstairs. You're unable to hear every word, but you catch enough to know they're talking about you.

"We need to move her now. We've kept her alive too long!" You hear footsteps and then the opening of the door. Nic appears before you, with a sinister grin. Your heart races as he nears. His eyes roam your body as he undoes his belt. He pulls you to your feet by your hair. A whimper escapes you and he laughs. Once again, his hands pull at the skirt of your dress. His hands travel along your thighs and ass squeezing both. His touch makes your skin crawl that you actually shudder. His fingers start to tug your underwear down when there's a commotion from upstairs.

"Freeze! Chicago PD."

"Drop the weapon!"

"On your knees! Face down." 

"I said drop it!"

Your heart flutters with hope, but then shots ring out and you have no idea who's firing or what's happening up there.

"Down here!" You yell. The basement door opens.

"Chicago PD!" Antonio and Jay's voices ring out.

"One male. He's got a gun," you warn. As they rush down the stairs, Nic pulls his gun on you.

"Drop your weapon!" Jay orders. His eyes perfectly fixated on the gun in Nic's hands. Antonio eyes you carefully and while seeing you bruised and a gun to your head isn't ideal, he's relieved to see you alive. Your colleagues' guns stay fixed on your offender. "You won't be told again. Drop. Your. Weapon." Your eyes lock with your boyfriend's beautiful brown ones and you nod ever so slightly. You slide down the pole as Nic moves towards you as if he was going to use you as a shield. Both Antonio and Jay fire their guns. Blood splatters onto you. Jay moves to check the body, but all you really notice is Antonio running to you  and it's honestly a beautiful sight.  "Baby, baby, baby. Hang on. I got you," he soothes, working quickly to free your hands of the zip ties. Your head falls into his chest. Really your whole body just collapses into him. Antonio holds you close, careful not to embrace you too hard, but his touch has never felt better. You sob uncontrollably as he begins to rock you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you repeat.

"Shh. You did nothing wrong, mi amor. Shh, now, baby. I got you. You're safe again."

//

Immediately you're taken to the hospital. Blood is drawn,xrays taken, exams given. You've sustained several injuries, but nothing critical. Mostly you're bruised and exhausted, so when the machines you're hooked up to start beeping erratically, Antonio is confused and scared again, clearly demonstrated by that outburst directed at Jay. 

He opens his mouth to apologize when Will Halstead exits your room. 

"You can go back in now," he says simply.

The intelligence team looks at him, confused.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Y/n wasn't breathing properly."

"What?"

Will puts his hands up. "No no. She's fine. She can breathe. She was sleeping and wasn't breathing deep enough for the machine to register it. I promise she's fine."

There's a collective sigh of relief from everyone.

Antonio coming back into your room is a most welcoming sight. There's so much to say, but your eyelids are heavy with sleep. Instead you take his hand in yours. Antonio's free hand lovingly caresses your face.A feeling of safety washes over you and you drift off into a peaceful dream.

[greatwargospel]

Patsy and Flea's first meeting

Patsy Attaway was finally getting out. Four years after the Second Battle of the Hoover Dam and he’s finally getting out. All he needs is enough caps to convince McLafferty to let him head out east with a caravan. Patsy’s gone stir crazy with the visions and his parents walking on eggshells whenever he’s near. At least the Big Horner's didn’t treat him differently after he got his prosthetics. But none of that mattered because Patsy was dressed in his best clothes to hit the Strip before leaving Nevada. He’s always been particularly lucky, but his visions have been coming in stronger and he might as well make use of them by gambling. He intends to work his way outwards, starting at the Vault 21 and ending at the Silver Rush.

The night goes as planned, a mix of luck, clairvoyance, and skill earning his way to getting kicked out of each casino until he hits Gomora. The place always skeeved him out, so he usually avoided it, but tonight is different. He orders a couple of drinks to calm his tension and spots a blackjack table with a much taller man sitting at it. He didn’t fit into the place, looked far too nervous, and stood out easily, the blood on his crumpled suit causes him to stick out more. The only reason he hasn’t been thrown out is most likely due to his massive stature, the man looks like he could kill a deathclaw with one hand. Patsy hobbles over to the table and sits right next to the gentleman. Most players don’t fully acknowledge new people at the table, but this man does. Eyes bright as the desert sky give Patsy a once-over, focusing on the robotic arm. Patsy notices and removes his suit jacket fully and rolls up his sleeves, ignoring the other man. As the night proceeds, Patsy has realized a few things including the fact that the ill-fitting man is counting cards and his energy is much more distracting to Patsy’s visions than most are. He can’t compete with a mathematician and a mathematician can’t compete with a clairvoyant.

As Patsy is debating moving tables to increase earnings, the dealer motions to the two of them. Shit. Before he can slip away, a bouncer places his hands on their shoulders. Patsy is grabbed by the scruff of his shirt and nearly lifted off the ground, while his neighbor is unable to be pulled up from the chair. He doesn’t seem to want to make a scene. Too bad. Patsy begins to yell at the bouncer for harassing a man who’s just trying to spend some of his hard-earned money. He claims that it’s hard enough to work with one arm and leg, but being hassled for winning? That’s just cruel. His attempt does not work. He gets thrown out on his ass, ripping his only dress shirt. Defeated, Patsy lays back on the warm cement, ignoring the sound of the strippers and jeering people nearby. He opens his eyes to see the man peering over him. Patsy mutters “L'Étrange” quietly before the man helps him up. He’s hit with another flash of a vision, something short, but similar. A desire to get the hell out of dodge. He was getting caps for the same reason Patsy was. He pats the stranger on the back and tells him that he'll split the night's earnings with the man if they go out for drinks and explains why his suit’s a mess. Patsy’s mainly bored, the man doesn’t seem a killer, but he sure does have a story, he can feel it. The man once again sizes Patsy up, seeing if it’s a worthy deal. The guy could probably crush his head in one palm, but that’d be a good way to go out. The man seems to agree to the proposition and Patsy smiles and extends his hand. He introduces himself as Patsy Attaway, but most call him Rawhide. The man nods and quietly responds with his name, Ferus. Patsy figures either the man’s a legionnaire or his parents were bad at baby names. They walk arm in arm together to Silver Rush and take a seat at a far back table. Patsy orders two whiskeys, but Ferus doesn’t touch his.

Patsy cocks his head to the side and asks “You don’t like whiskey?” and the other responds in a quiet voice, “I don’t drink.”

Patsy sits back, a relaxed and cocky expression on his face as he asks, “I take it you don’t use stimpacks either?” The man’s name is in Latin and he seems out of his depth in the den of sin known as the Strip. It makes sense if he’s a legionnaire.

Ferus knows he’s caught, there’s no point in hiding it. “It’s not what it seems like. It’s not because of Caesar’s Legion, but for a different reason.”

“You pronounced it correctly,” Patsy points out, before continuing, “There isn’t a soft ‘c’ sound in Latin.” Patsy, in mocking disbelief begins to count out each point against Ferus’s innocence, “You speak Latin, don’t drink or take stimpacks, but it’s not because of Caesar?” He ends the sentence stressing Caesar's name, pronouncing it properly.

Ferus confesses, “I...used to be a decanus, leader of ten, but I’ve learned since then.”

Patsy lights a cigarette and takes a slow drag from it, thinking about what a man could learn to deprogram his brain in such a way. A decanus should’ve been one of the tyrant's special cocksuckers. Better than the traditional legate.

“So if you were a legionnaire, what changed? “Cause I was pretty sure most of Caesar’s men got hunted down, well into the desert.” Of course, if Patsy focused hard enough he could probably find out himself, but it’s more fun to listen to people explain themselves.

Ferus brightens at the question, the same way a missionary does when someone asks about their god, “I experienced mercy. I survived three days on a cross and was allowed to live. I deserved the deaths that my other amicus were given, but I was allowed to live. That is why I’ve changed.” Ferus spoke like a religious fanatic on a Sunday. Raving and wild-eyed.

Patsy, looking past the more concerning statements and asks instead, “If you’re no longer a legionnaire, why not drink? Or use stimpacks?”

The light is still burning in Ferus’s eyes as he replies, matter-of-factly, “I do not deserve it.” Patsy is confused by the statement and the man continues, “I committed horrible acts in my life, a quick death is far too kind for me. As well as most of the human pleasures that had been restricted when I was a legate. I don’t deserve to have my pain eased, nor to drink myself into a stupor.”

This is not what the farm boy expected in the slightest. Ferus is telling the truth, or at least what he believes is the truth. He doesn’t feel like pushing the man more on what must be a difficult subject, so he switches gears. “So how come you’re gettin’ outta Dodge?”

Ferus is surprised at the statement, not having said anything about leaving Vegas, but the man is correct in his assumptions. “I never said anything about that.”

Patsy shrugs, “I know things, and you and I seem to have the same goal. Getting out of Nevada. I’m tryn’ to head east.” He’s not sure if he’s offering companionship for the other traveler. He’s bored and Ferus seems to be an interesting man. “The Crimson Caravan is heading out at the end of the month, I was trying to get as much money from the Strip as I could before heading out. That was until I ran into you.” He puffs on his cigarette across from the ex legionnaire, trying to think of ways to convince the man he’s been trusted. Patsy can feel the strings of fate pull them together. They’ll probably meet again if he lets him go, but it’s easier to get it over with now. Then he has an idea.

“Tell you what,” Patsy begins as he pulls out a deck of cards and shuffles them, “Let’s play a game and the outcome will foretell what we do.”

Ferus is surprised at the offer but agrees to it. “How do you play? Is it like caravan?” The other man chuckles at the question but doesn’t answer, he just shuts his eyes and continues to shuffle.

“I’ll pull three cards, one for me, one for you, and one for the future,” he says with a grin. He pulls three cards and places them faced down, before looking back at the other man. He reads off each card as he flips it over and what it was for.

“For me, reverse Ace of Wands, funny,” he flips over a card that has a hand sticking out of a cloud, holding a stick. It faces Patsy. It looks hand-drawn. The next card is a happy family with what looks like almost a halo of cups, also facing Patsy. He sucks in a breath at the sight before shooting Ferus a concerned look. “Ten of Cups, reversed, for you. The final card should be the future, we’ll save that one for now.”

“So the card for me means, essentially, that I’ve grown bored,” He says bluntly. Ferus gets the feeling he isn’t explaining the full meaning, but he doesn’t push it. “Your card is the Ten of Cups, also reversed. The Ten of Cups traditionally means you are emotionally fulfilled and is viewed as a 'happy ever after'. The issue is, this is the reversal." He says this sadly as if Ferus knows what he means, but he continues. "Your card means that the bonds with your community, your family, have been broken. You've been stuck with a lot of tension from your past. Does this sound right?" Ferus nods, unemotionally and Patsy nods back.

“I wanted to make sure that you didn’t just think I was bullshittin’ you. Not everyone believes in this shit.” Ferus laughs at the remark, which surprises Patsy.

“I watched a man walk into my camp and kill a man that I was told was a god. I’m pretty open to mysticism and odd religious practices.” This the first time Ferus speaks casually, joking almost. Patsy finds the break in character intriguing.

“You are going to have to explain that to me later. Are you ready for the final card?” Ferus nods and Patsy flips it over. The card is facing Ferus, unlike the other ones. It has another hand in a cloud, this time holding a circle with a blue star drawn in it. Patsy smiles like a kid.

“Ace of Pentacles, upright. New beginnings. To start anew. Our future holds great abundance and opportunity, my friend." This satisfies Patsy, he knew they had some sort of future intertwined, but he didn’t know if it was going to be positive or negative. Clearly, the cards had his back. Pleased, he takes the pulled cards and slides them back into the deck. He then places them into a leather pouch and back into his bag. He stubs out his cigarette and sticks out his hand to Ferus.

“So is it a deal or what?” Ferus just looks at him confused before he sighs and explains, “We’ll travel together. It’s in the fates. Either we team up now, or inevitably run into each other down the line. I’d prefer now to be honest and you seem like you need a friend, so whatta’ ya’ say?” Ferus doesn’t know what to say. He deserves to decline, to let this kind soul move on his way, but if he’s telling the truth, then they’ll meet again anyway. The crooked, gap-toothed smile is one that Ferus has never seen, such deliberate kindness. He caves and shakes the other man’s hand.

[unwiltingblossom]

Queen’s Favor (Mysme Jumin/MC AU 9/?)

Summary: Being a maid would be much easier if the cat would just let her do her job.

AU - Instead of joining the RFA via random text, MC is hired on as one of the maids assigned to Jumin Han’s penthouse. Nothing else about the setting has changed, the messenger and the RFA still exist, only the MC’s position has been altered.

It'd gotten to the point where she'd opened the bag and just...looked directly inside it. Just one step shy of trying to stick her head and body in there, as if she could go on a purse-adventure to find her wallet. 

The GPS worked.

See. She might have gotten hotheaded and chased after a stranger in the middle of the night all the way until she got the lost in some shady district, but nothing actually bad happened. Except she lost some time to have dinner and relax.

But that was fine, because it was her weekend anyway. She had all day to sleep in and do other things!

Like get that haircut. And maybe shop for mattresses. A little.

But not apartment shop. She wasn't making enough to have saved up for that yet. There wasn't that many places in her range to move into in the city, in the first place, which is part of the reason she ended up in the closet-apartment she now lived. Given the short time since moving there, she couldn't really expect that to change radically when her price range...really wasn't that different. Yet.

When she'd looked up the location that she'd ended up in last night, all she'd been able to find out about it was that it had been built ten years back and was residential. She hadn't found any advertisements renting the apartments in it, which was strange, given that it sure didn't look full.

Well. Maybe some business mogul bought the place thinking they could turn it into some kind of office-space, then went under because they had no idea what they were doing?

Regardless, aside from a few comments from others who had asked questions about the building and gotten nothing of substance in return, there wasn't much about the place on the internet. Maybe that jerk who'd run into her was actually the person who owned the place. It's that, or he really was a drug dealer.

Hey, maybe he split the difference. Gotta pay for an apartment complex you don't rent out somehow, right?

She frowned, rustling through her purse. She obviously traveled without it most of the time when she was working, as there really wasn't a reason to weigh herself down with something she might forget somewhere (or the cat would get into), but still...she was sure she'd put her wallet in the purse when she'd gotten home.

Where is it...?

She wasn't about to stand there rustling through the purse, digging through her stuff to find her money after she needed to pay something. She'd do it now. When no one was staring expectantly at her and she didn't feel judged. Obviously. Like any upstanding not-broke citizen who felt vaguely judged every time she went into work by the sheer gulf between herself and her employer's wealth levels.

Which was a good choice, because it'd gotten to the point where she'd opened the bag and just...looked directly inside it. Just one step shy of trying to stick her head and body in there, as if she could go on a purse-adventure to find her wallet. Her hand failed to find it, so maybe if she just looked...

"Hey, look out-!"

She did, but only in time to see a black-and-white blur slam into her.

Ah, so that's how it felt to be tackled to the ground. But worse, because she'd only tackled the intruder to wooden floors, not cement. That hardly seemed fair, considering she didn't do anything to deserve it, unlike the one who got slammed to the floor.

She didn't complain, though, as her attention was arrested pretty completely by the literal truck that zoomed right by where she'd been standing before something else - someone else - slammed into her and knocked her out of the way. Along with her purse, which was knocked completely off of her arm by the impact of the ground, and slid a foot or two away from her on the sidewalk.

Hey, was that her walle-nope, just her phone.

"Are you alright?"

The ground, the truck, and then her purse all took their turns with her attention, she supposed it was only reasonable the person who saved her life would eventually expect to it, too. Once the shock and potential trauma passed, anyway.

She blinked a few times, but the person above her neither disappeared, nor melted like a midday mirage caused by standing in the sun. The beautiful face just inches away from hers remained. And didn't get any less pretty even when she focused on it. Smooth, flawless skin she could scream in jealousy over, platinum hair that fell in an artful curtain around both of their faces despite being tied back, and surprisingly pretty red eyes.

Ah, yes.

She still hadn't spoken. Just gawked.

Nice.

"U-uh." Granted, she'd gotten used to seeing attractive men in person, compared to maybe a year before. But this was an exceptionally pretty man, exceptionally close to her face. That, and she'd just been slammed into the ground and narrowly avoided death.

Actually, that's what she's going with. Near death avoidance. Really robs someone of their speech.

He spoke again, and by some totally unfair twist, he sounded as attractive as he looked. "Are you okay? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

Despite herself, she lifted a hand from where it'd splayed out on the ground and waved it vaguely in the air. "Oh, no, no. I quit concussions cold turkey last month." Mmm, nope. She knew the reference and even for her...that just wasn't clever. She'd chalk that up to near death, too. She'd go down fighting and die with dignity before she admitted to social awkwardness just because someone pretty happened to be up in her face.

Unfortunately, she couldn't take back what was already said.

He squinted down at her a moment, one side of his mouth quirking up into a smile that was frankly more amused than her comment deserved. "...I feel even more concerned for you now than I did before."

"...You know what, I really can't blame you. It was pretty bad by my standards, and I fully blame the near-miss of that truck."

His expression remained amused - and seemed rather like he was holding back saying something else. Mercifully, probably. Eventually, he pushed himself up and away, shifting instead to kneel over her, rather than stay like some kind of cliche accidental romance moment. A hand reached out to help her up, and she really couldn't help but notice how the sun caught in his silver hair, how his features looked perfectly chiseled like from someone's personal design of perfection, and how ridiculous it was to have someone as pretty as him randomly wandering the street.

For one reason or another, it felt stranger just to see someone so attractive on the street around the peasants like her than to see them rubbing elbows with the ludicrously rich. Well, that and he had the feel of some kind of a star. Maybe that was pretty-bias, though.

After a moment or two of perfectly discreet gawking, she did ultimately take the offered hand, at least upgrading from 'sprawled on the sidewalk' to 'sitting on the sidewalk'.

"If I could offer a bit of advice, I'd quit standing in the middle of busy streets cold turkey, too." The man gave a wink, and for a moment she considered punching herself in the face just to give an excuse for the way her cheeks felt hot immediately after. At this point, she really doubted even that could make her look any worse to this random stranger anyway. "Even though I'm a hero, I can't promise I'll always be nearby to rescue you if you do."

"Are you sure? You've got the face to make a career out of it." ...Ah, yes. Well, eventually she just had to say something about his looks. They were just...there. Right up in her face and startlingly pretty.

He even wore a bashful smile in a way she could almost believe was sincere. "It's never sounded so appealing as when a natural born princess suggested it."

"Hm, I've never heard of a princess that has to hire her own hero. Can't say I can afford the paycheck, but I'll give you a five star review for my free trial."

He winked again, and she was pretty sure that someone ought to classify that as a deadly weapon. "For such a fair maiden, I'd do it for free."

...Honestly.

If she was going to flirt with a startlingly handsome stranger she met on the street, the least she could have done for herself was not make it so lame. This was what happened when the majority of her social interaction for an entire season was with a cat and its bizarre owner.

"I...uh. You think we can still chalk up my poor social skills to the near death experience?" She wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to think about the alternative."

His response was, apparently, to just flex on her by standing up and pulling her to her feet with one hand. Of course he was handsome, charismatic and fit. Why not go for the triple threat? The man apparently just waltzed right off of the nearest movie screen before rescuing her from the most embarrassing death she could have come up with outside of the penthouse. It'd be weirder at this point if he weren't also buff.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." He grinned. It sparkled, and she almost rolled her eyes. "I, for one, am thoroughly charmed."

Alright. He could keep being unreasonably good at everything as long as he also kept flattering her. Seemed reasonable to her.

"Smooth." A little scoff she liked to think wasn't vulgar compared to the person in front of her escaped her throat, and she turned to gather up her purse before anyone else could trample her things. Surprisingly, once she was done, the man still stood in place, watching her with that vaguely amused expression he'd had the whole time. She could almost buy he was actually charmed by her if he weren't a dolled up model on a movie poster jumped off the wall and come to life.

"If you're worried about me running back out into traffic again or something, you don't have to. There's a cat that would come and kill me if I got myself killed."'

For just a moment, he looked absolutely horrified. And then he went into a sneezing fit. Never before had she seen dignity and grace evaporate so quickly and thoroughly. The silver figure of a beautiful adonis quickly turned into a man nearly sneezing off of his feet, with tears and snot and...why?

"A-are you okay?!"

"No-I...I'm just...!" He sniffled, expression transformed to something petulant and miserable as he withdrew a handkerchief to clean up his face. "I'm very allergic! Just talking about cats makes me sneeze!"

"That's..."

 That is not a thing.

"That is not how allergies work."

He huffed, pursing his lips, and pocketed his handkerchief. "It's true."

She was sure it wasn't.

Still, she couldn't help a small smile anyway, awkward as it may have been. "I guess it might be hard to be your princess then. It'd be embarrassing to have you keel over when you showed up to rescue me."

He dabbed at his eye with one knuckle, so delicate. "Every hero faces his own dangers."

"You're really dedicated to the hero and princess thing, huh? Even ca-..." The pitiful look on his face was enough to make her correct herself. "Even your mortal enemy can't stop you, huh?"

This time, his smile was self depreciating. "Beggars can't be choosers. A hero without a princess is just a lonely guy."

...She wouldn't lie, it was at least half as much because he was so handsome as because he was amusingly charming and saved her life, but...eh. She shrugged. "If you put it that way...I could go for the company of a hero prince for lunch."

He chuckled and brushed hair out of his face...that instantly fell artfully right back into his face. "Well, now I just feel like I'm committing extortion..."

"Consider it a princess' favo-"

Wait.

"Dammit, my wallet!"

[umbureraakademi]

Introductory Note About the AU & Other Chapters & Face Claims

-a/n start-

[Potential spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen or finished TUA Netflix series but seriously how could you stop yourself from watching such a captivating show.]

Word Count: 2767

Some quality bro time.

-a/n end-

Chapter 20

Deciding not to question the Captain further about him granting Diego to leave work when he just got in, he quickly told Chuck he was taking the rest of the day off and left without giving the other detective an opportunity to even ask why. By the time Diego reached the precinct’s exit, he saw a familiar lanky figure with a mop of dark, curly hair sitting and smoking on the steps of the precinct.

“Klaus are you just going to keep following me around?” Diego said from behind him. Startled again by the unexpected drop in, Klaus hurriedly extinguished his cigarette on the cement steps before he got up to face his brother.

“Didn’t expect you to get out of work so early.” he said in response.

“Captain gave me a day off.”

“How kind of him. He’s right in doing that, though, you do not look too hot.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Diego said sarcastically as he tried to push past Klaus again, but this time Klaus put his hands on Diego’s shoulders to stop him. 

“Diego please let’s just talk for a bit, okay?” he begged.

“I need to check on Monica.” 

“She’s fine.”

“How do you know? How do you know she isn’t putting shit in her body like she did before? With you?” Diego responded with an edge, starting to get annoyed that his brother was delaying him.

“Because, Diego, my dear brother.” Klaus started, his sassy tone masking the fact his words hurt him too. “She wanted to go to rehab. She was willing to stop. I was the idiot who tried to pull her back because I wasn’t ready. I was the selfish person who didn’t want to be left alone.” he said.

Klaus’ words softened Diego’s harsh look for a bit as he imagined Klaus suddenly abandoned and alone, the person he thought he could trust and love having just up and left him without saying a word. He thought back at Klaus when they were younger and Reginald had just let him out of the maseouleum, how the trauma left him in an unresponsive daze for days. He thought back to just before everyone started leaving the Academy one by one and he found Klaus taking in some questionable pills into his mouth through a small crack at the door Klaus had thought he closed properly. When Diego burst in to grab the rest of the pills in a small plastic ziploc he could still imagine Klaus getting on his knees, crying and begging for him to give them back, his exact words still ringing in his ears like it happened yesterday.

I just want them to stop… they torture me everyday, Diego I just want a few moments of peace… please just let me have them… 

Maybe if Diego hadn’t felt sorry for Klaus then and allowed him to continue his unhealthy and deadly addiction…

“Look, I just want to talk about the whole thing, okay? I feel bad about the scene I made last night. I know I could have done it less… well… dramatically.” Klaus said, snapping Diego out of his daze. “And I can’t exactly follow you to Maica’s apartment. I’m not exactly Jessica’s most favorite person.” at that Diego chuckled softly, now less tense.

“I’m not either.” he said, watching a smile crack up at Klaus’ face as he spread his arms wide.

“Brothers!” he expressed, giving Diego a hug.

“All right, all right.” Diego said, quickly pulling away from the hug. “We’ll talk over coffee. I desperately need one.” 

At a Nearby Café

Diego thought it was weird how Klaus insisted they get a table with three seats instead of just two, but decided not to think much of it. He got himself a cup of Americano while Klaus went for the more expensive, non-caffeine hot chocolate, considering Diego was paying for both drinks. 

He watched as Klaus stirred and mixed the whipped cream into his drink before saying, “You going to start talking yet?’ he said.

“What? Oh, right.” Klaus stopped as he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, all while still keeping eye contact with Diego. “Where to start hmm… well I guess first I should apologize for my behavior that night. But then again if you saw your ex smooching it up with your brother I bet anyone would be pissed.”

“Great apology.” Diego said sarcastically, also leaning back in his chair.

Klaus sighed before continuing, “I really am sorry, you know. It’s just that I haven’t seen or heard from Maica in like… what? Almost a year? And suddenly when I do see her again she’s all over you.” 

Diego was quiet for a while before he said, “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.”

“No, no, no, bro. You don’t need to apologize, okay? I’m not mad that you’re with her, I’m mad that she’s with you.” 

“Make sense, please.” Diego said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You’re not my problem, bro. But Maica is.” Klaus said more straightforwardly. “It’s just that… when you think about it you’re the only sibling who even relatively cares about me. You could have thrown away those pills the first time you saw me with them but you saw and understood how tortured I was and going against your better judgement you let me have them. We both know it wasn’t just the pills you let me have.” 

“Yeah well… look who we ended up meeting thanks to that.” Diego commented as he leaned forward to take a sip of his coffee.

“Okay, ouch.” Klaus responded, placing a hand where his heart is. “I don’t think you understand where I’m coming from, bro. I mean now that you have someone else to care about, you’re probably just going to forget about me like everyone else.”

This caught Diego’s attention as he placed his cup back down to look at Klaus. “What do you mean?”

Klaus avoided Diego’s gaze as he started playing with the stirrer in his untouched hot chocolate. “Back then when you just started out as a cop, I could feel you looking after me, you know. You with the boys in blue. You could have been assigned to any area in the city but for some reason I kept seeing your patrol car wherever I was.” 

Diego sighed, “Well, someone had to look after your ass.” 

“But that changed, didn’t it?” Klaus said suddenly, his toying with the stirrer stopping. Diego looked at his brother, not really sure where he was taking him this time.

“I don’t follow.”

“Oh you know…” Klaus paused a bit, taking a sip from his hot chocolate though Diego was pretty sure he did that for the dramatics. “Got that big promotion. Became a detective scrutinizing files on a desk and having your underlings do the dirty work.” 

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Well I don’t know that, I’ve never been a cop. But hey, don’t take it the wrong way, bro. I was proud of you making it big. A different kind of big, not all that fancy schmancy stardom thing Allison is into. Besides, I wasn’t exactly alone.” Klaus said that last sentence in a whisper and took a moment to subtly exchange glances with Ben, who was sitting at the empty third chair he insisted getting.

“I still tried looking after you, you know.” 

“Yeah, I felt that. And then I guess it just… stopped? At first I thought it was because you got busy busting bad guys and solving cases then I found out… you got a girlfriend.” as Klaus said this, Diego knew he didn’t mean Monica as he was talking about quite a while ago, when he was dating Eudora. Klaus could immediately see his brother tense at the mention of his past lover who had gone too soon and regretted bringing it up. “I’m sorry… about what happened…”

Diego was silent as he stared into his cup of Americano, not looking at Klaus as he asked, “You knew?”

“I saw it on the news somewhere…” Klaus said vaguely, looking uncomfortably at Ben who mouthed it’s going to be okay.

There was a silence that followed before Diego spoke again, “Where were you?”

“Excuse me?” Klaus said, Diego’s question catching him off guard.

Diego looked at him straight in the eyes this time, his expression hurt, “I… I-I’m asking…” he stuttered. “Where were you? Did you have any idea what I went through after she d…” Diego wasn’t able to continue as he put his cup down and looking away from Klaus to hold his trembling hands together.

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment, the image of his vulnerable brother almost unbearable to take. “Diego, I know this is too late to say but I’m sorry…” he said as he opened his eyes to examine Diego’s reaction, when he still wasn’t looking at him he continued. “I should’ve stayed with you the moment I found out but… your girlfriend she… she died fighting against drugs. I honestly thought the last person you wanted to see was your drug-abusing brother…”

“I wouldn’t have pushed you away…” Diego said softly.

“Really? Like you did with Maica?” 

“She’s different, Klaus. You’re different. Do you know why?” this time Diego looked at Klaus dead in the eyes, his expression sharp but his eyes starting to wet with tears that were threatening to come out anytime. “Because you’re my brother.”

Klaus was at a loss for words after that, looking away from Diego he chanced upon the sight of Ben wiping his tears away. When Ben noticed Klaus was looking at him he straightened up and pretended he wasn’t just crying. Klaus sighed as he looked back at Diego, who was trying to hold his coffee cup still despite his hands still trembling from the pent up hurt and anger inside him.

“Diego please put that down before you get coffee on your shirt.” Klaus said gently, reaching out as he held Diego to steady his grip, guiding him in placing the cup back down on the table. Releasing his hands, Klaus looked up again at Diego. “I was wrong… I shouldn’t have cared about anything, I should’ve just been there to help you through everything. I guess I just didn’t know what to do with myself either… everyday my addiction got worse that I started begging dealers to sell me drugs intended for other people. Honestly… I was probably scared that one day she would come up to me and ask to check up on you…” 

Diego’s breathing started getting shaky as he understood who Klaus meant, he didn’t say anything as he let Klaus continue.

“Eventually, I ticked off one person enough for her to come slamming at my apartment door demanding for her pack…” Klaus paused for a moment, unsure how to say the next few words right. “That’s… when I met Maica… you could probably already guess what happens next but basically, we were all right until she decided she wanted to stop and go to rehab when I was still… far from being ready for what happens once I became sober. We got into a huge fight about that one night then the next thing I know it she’s gone and--”

“Then you see her with me.” Diego continued, interrupting Klaus. “So you decide to back off when I needed someone the time Eudora died, but you also decide to swoop back in to ruin what I have now with Monica?”

Klaus had to break his gaze from Diego to hide the fact that his words stung like acid on an open wound. “That was not my intention…” he said softly.

“Then what is your intention, Klaus?” Diego demanded.

“I just don’t want you to forget about me again.” when Klaus looked back at Diego it was Diego’s turn to be taken aback by the amount of hurt in his brother’s green eyes. “My relationship with Maica, that’s over. I don’t want her back. I want my brother back.” 

The silence that followed after felt like it lasted forever, and Ben started squirming in his seat uncomfortably at the lack of interaction and eye contact between his living brothers.

“Klaus I… I’m sorry I ever made you feel like I neglected you…” Diego finally said. 

“Yeah, well.” Klaus sighed. “Neglect is a familiar friend of the Hargreeves children, isn’t it? Good thing we had Mom to feed us.” he continued, now taking a lighter tone. Diego looked at Klaus, unsure again where his brother intended to take this conversation. When a smile suddenly broke out of Klaus’ face and he started laughing, both Ben and Diego were looking at him as if he was high again. 

“C’mon, bro. Would you look at the two of us? All sappy and longing for brotherly affection. Draamaaaa.” Klaus expressed dynamically, paying attention to his hot chocolate (which was now - at best - lukewarm) as he took a big gulp. Diego couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as he had to admit, they were being a bit dramatic. Ben exhaled as he leaned back in his chair, relieved that the storm had passed.

“I saw you two talking you know… at the parking lot…” Klaus said, his tone serious again and both Ben and Diego sat up on their seats. “I couldn’t really hear what you were talking about of course but Maica… she never looked at me the way she looked at you, bro. Well yeah I mean around 80% of the time she was with me she was high - we were both high - but--”

“Klaus.”

“Right, right. Sorry.” clearing his throat he started constructing his sentences more thoughtfully. “What I meant to say is I can tell she has a whole different level of feelings for you, Diego. Maybe you should… hear her out.”

“Thought you said you had a problem with her?”

“Yes, but if you’re really into her, then what can I do?” as Klaus said this he watched Diego as he reached for his coffee again, his hand now more steady as he took a sip. “I may not be able to completely forgive her yet but like I said bro, Maica and I, we’re done. I can tell you really care about her too.” when Diego was quiet, Klaus prompted him to respond by asking, “Do you?” 

“Of course I do.” Diego said, his voice a soft whisper.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Maica and I didn’t get intimate very much. At the very best we did hand stuff most of the time.”

“Oh my God, Klaus!” Ben expressed, though obviously only Klaus would hear him.

“That… did not make me feel any better…” Diego said with a grimace on his face.

“What? I could tell you two obviously have had more sex in two months than we did in our entire relationship!” 

“Can you not yell that aloud in here please?” Diego hissed as their table started getting looks from the other patrons in the café. 

“Besides…” when Klaus continued Diego was about to grab a box of tissues and stuff it in his mouth for him to stop talking until he heard what his brother had to say next. “She’ll be the last girl I’ll ever be romantically involved with.” 

Diego’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he asked, “So you won’t be dating anymore?”

“What? Oh no, Diego. When I mean last girl I literally meant last girl.”

It didn’t take long for Diego to process what Klaus actually meant, “You like men?”

“Bingo!” Klaus laughed as he clapped his hands, drawing attention again from the other people around them. “So this brings me to the second reason why I wanted to talk to you.” 

“There was a second reason?”

“Yes, could you look up a name for me? There was this… police officer who helped me get out from getting serious jail time as long as I promised I would go to rehab… I tried looking around the precinct he brought me in once I got out to thank him but they said he transferred and they wouldn’t tell me where. I just hope it’s the same city.” Klaus said, his eyes now full of excitement as he looked at his brother expectantly.

Diego was honestly stunned and confused by the sudden information, but out of curiosity asked, “What’s his name?”

Klaus started absentmindedly stirring his lukewarm hot chocolate again, like a high school girl in a daze thinking about her date for prom night.

“His name is Dave.”

[keire-ke]

fic fragment - Stucky

[So this is the thing I am currently working on. :) You can probably guess where this is going. Cap!Steve/modern!Bucky]

Tony is seriously regretting having come out for this so-called mission.

"I am seriously regretting coming out for this so-called mission," he told JARVIS.

"As you say sir," JARVIS replied. The outline of the building he was circling trembled and refolded, as the sensors bounced off the walls, revealing more details inside, and all of them were adding up to everything they already knew, so score one for accuracy of intel, probably.

"Do I detect a note of sarcasm, JARVIS? From you? That is low."

"I do believe that would be due to subroutine that-dash-is-dash-low, an integral part of my core code."

"Never heard of it."

"You outlined most of my selective assessment of subjective statements protocols on December 24th, 2005, during a party, and compiled it by the end of the year."

"That doesn't sound like me."

"You have attended a Christmas Eve party at the Met, which you left early with a young gentleman and his young wife, then proceeded to ignore them both while you wrote the subroutine in the limousine en route home."

"That does sound like me."

"May I also trouble you with the information that the left knee wiring is due for an upgrade and I wouldn't recommend the classic landing?"

"Noted."

Nothing substantial to shoot and he wouldn't even get to pull of his favorite dramatic landing. It was like the Avengers didn't even need his talents on this particular venture, which, to be fair, was advertised as being of an assessment variety rather than anything else, so he couldn't even sue for false advertising.

"Natasha," Cap whispered into his com unit, "report."

"In position."

The air around the compound stilled. The tiny speck-o-Steve in the corner of Tony's heat signature cam visibly turned his head, taking in the expanse of the parking lot before him and breathed into the com: "On my signal."

Tony let loose the ancillary "distraction only" hand laser cannons, vaporizing the illusion of the heavy door to the warehouse. A blast of hot air tore through the empty lot, upending a car, giving Falcon a boost into an impressive aerial display, sending him far above the warehouse. Why wasn't Falcon taking the flying point on this venture was quite beyond Tony. So his leg didn't have time to fully recover, big deal. He was flying with incomplete wiring!

"JARVIS tells me it's not so much incomplete as it is frayed," Falcon's voice rang in Tony' ear. "And we suspected explosives and guns, which makes your presence required."

"JARVIS, why is that bird reading my mind?"

"You talk to yourself, sir."

"On open coms. Signed, that bird." High in the air the Falcon did a flip and a twirl. "I have multiple hotspots showing on my scanners."

"You and me both."

On the ground Cap pirouetted through the hot cloud, and sent his shield flying. It ricocheted from a lamppost, hit the very un-vaporized door and came flying back, just as the Man with the Plan leapt over a hostile, grabbed the shield mid-flight and knocked the goon out as he landed.

Tony watched the spectacle with a certain amount of math-derived satisfaction, before hiking up his metaphorical pants and diving through the itty bitty window into the warehouse, landed in the clear space in the middle, and looked around.

"Tony, where are you?" Steve asked, just as Tony, in a flash of panic, did his best impression of a Swan Lake, whirling on his toes to get picture of everything that was around him before the ominously blinking lights, glaring at him from all around, made good on their terrible, terrible promise.

"Inside – you might want to keep out of this one, Capsicle."

"What are we looking at?" Steve asked, but that was roughly when the entire building exploded. The fire wreaked havoc with his heat displays, but the experimental echolocation vision kicked in, shutting down all external audio, showing him that Steve raised his arm and Natasha came huddling under his shield, until entropy did its work and the air assault passed. "Everyone okay? What happened? Tony?"

"There may have been grenades."

"May have been grenades? Tony—"

"I did not blow them up, if that's what you mean," Tony said, walking out of the burning warehouse in his highly advanced armor made of indestructible titanium alloy painted a hot red-and-gold. He could only imagine how cool he looked.

"So dramatic," Natasha told Steve quietly.

"If I didn't have to worry about fire and shock waves I would do it all the time." Steve was being honest, Tony could tell. He opens his mouth to tell JARVIS to collect footage from the nearby cameras, to make into everyone's screensavers, when a siren cut through the crackle of flames.

"Someone called the fire department?" Tony asked, making a mental note to call the fine people of the NYFD and offer commendation for quick reactions.

"NYPD! On the ground, now!"

Wrong NY-asterisk-D.

A surprisingly slim man was stalking their way, gun in his extended hands, a golden badge gleaming right above a very nicely proportioned thigh. One of the hands was a very handsome metal prosthetic, mostly out of view thanks to a combination of shirt rolled up to the elbow and riding gloves, whose shifting plates reflected the fire very nicely. The faint hum of the machinery inside told a fascinating story. "JARVIS, make a note to look into prosthetics, that sound doesn't sound like it needs to be there."

"Get on the ground!"

The human component was not happy to see them, Tony put together out of context.

"Easy there, Harry," Tony started, holding his hands up.

"Stop fucking talking."

"Sir, please calm down," Steve said. The man barely looked at him, sweeping his gaze across the lot and to the burning warehouse, taking in the flames. "The warehouse was a Hydra secret field base."

"Geez, Rogers, anyone ever tell you what a secret is?" Natasha muttered, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

"I think I can puzzle it out for myself."

"Pal, I've got backup incoming. You might want to put your hands on your head and shut the fuck up." The gun remained in place, muzzle dangerously level with the general whereabouts of Cap's chest.

"You maybe chill there, Robocop." Tony's faceplate swung open. "The signature hour is not for another week."

"You maybe treat this seriously, tinman." Robocop told him, eyes still fixed on the fire. "The lot of you are under arrest."

"Son," Steve began, and stepped up, raising his hand. "We're sorry if we've overstepped—" and too late Tony saw the calculated predictions on the inside of his helmet kick in, a breath too late: the gun feigned left, as did Steve's arm in a simple block, that was exactly the millisecond a booted foot struck out, missed his legs, came back under the knee, while the metal hand tangled in the shield's harness, around the shoulder. Suffice to say Steve ended up face-down on the ground, looking mightily confused.

"You have the right to remain silent," Robocop told him, to the usually quite arousing tune of a pair of handcuffs being slapped into place. "Anything you do or say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights?"

Captain America was on the ground, handcuffed. "JARVIS, please tell me you are recording this."

"Easy there," Natasha said. The words came out accompanied by a faint hiss. "Let him go."

"Or what?" The policeman looked up, one knee digging into Steve's back, cast a quick look at Tony and then back at the Black Goddamned Widow, like she was your average pot dealer. "You'll fire? Shoot me in the face with a laser beam? Go ahead, make my day. Assault a police officer, in full view of all the cameras in the neighborhood, I am begging you. I'm sure your overworked PR team will love spinning that."

Miracle of miracles: the Black Widow hesitated.

"Hey, okay, I have actual experience with getting arrested, so let me." The armor hissed and spat and Tony stepped out, stretching his fingers. "Look here, Officer Hot Stuff. We're just doing our civic duty here—"

"You've just torched my crime scene, and my warehouse of evidence, and quite possibly my informant. But I'm sorry, you were explaining how you were not obstructing justice?"

Okay, there was possibly maybe a slight miscalculation involved. "Hey, look, I have pictures of the insides, you can see the contents clear as day—"

"Stand down," Steve told the cement under his face.

"Steve?"

"Stand down."