#office building turnstiles

[szrssecurityswingturnstile]

servo motor speed turnstile gates likewise called pedestrian swing turnstile gate, which comes from the access control system, is among the essential parts of contemporary entrance and exit control. The door wings are driven by the control system and open and close immediately. The operating mode can be selected through programming settings: As quickly as it is verified that the person entering is licensed, the door wings open instantly. It closes after a delay, and the delay time is adjustable. Typical servo motor speed turnstile gates are divided into scissor doors (city flap barriers door) and swing doors. (1) Scissor doors are frequently used in rail transit, and typical scissor doors are mainly used in subways and other locations. The door wings extend from the within the box, which can effectively seal the passage and play the function of gain access to control. In addition, an infrared picking up gadget is installed inside the door body, which can recognize the function of "someone, one card" for individuals to travel through. (2) The swing door appeared behind the scissor door and comes from the second generation servo motor speed turnstile barrier. Such dc brushless slim The characteristic of gates is that the door wings run in the front and back direction. The operation procedure is within the body's view, which is much safer. In addition, because the door wings do not require to be pulled back into package, The styles of swing doors are more different. Due to the above attributes, swing doors are typically used in banks, business structures, high-end office buildings, etc. Anti-trailing function: There is a total infrared light band detection area in the channel. The switch state can be changed by software according to the customer's precision requirements. The application of the light band to adapt to different requirements prevents the shortcomings of point-type infrared detectors that are quickly contaminated and impacts the reliability of judgment, and can effectively judge the future. Tag reader who reads the card. When the system figures out that tailgating has taken place, the system will respond based upon the place of the valid cardholder returned by the infrared detector. After the door opening signal is sent out, there are still some unusual usages that will set off an alarm.

#swing turnstile gate #access turnstile #office building turnstiles #turnstile companies #turnstile with card reader #tripod torniquete #revolving gate

[tripodturnstile]

RS Security Co., Ltd is a high-tech business with intelligent gate devices and high-quality services as its core. The business's primary organization is: building and construction site access control, face recognition Turnstile, Complete height turnstile, acrylic swing turnstile, movable turnstiles, tripod turnstile, basketball court paid turnstile, parking lot barrier gate, totally automatic hydraulic bollard, etc, with parking area management Counting on the research and development, production, sales and service of equipment, pedestrian gate management equipment, intelligent door openers and other items, we offer customers with thorough management solutions. Throughout the years, the company has actually concentrated on pedestrian tripod turnstiles gate, swing barriers door, city flap turnstiles gate, speedlane gates, gates, barrier-free systems, complete height turnstile gate, access control, and parking area systems, and has actually slowly enhanced the products of magnetic cards, IC/ID cards, barcodes, and infrared series items. Integrated application, through constant struggle and efforts, it has now become the most powerful supplier of smart channel gate products in the industry.

#security tripod turnstile #optical turnstiles #speedgate turnstile #office building turnstiles #turnstile door access control #www turnstiles us inc #smart card turnstile

[bentwolioo]

Ok so why did Gerard wear the same costume for 6 shows???

Like a lot of people, I noticed the Aotearoa (NZ) & Australia tour drum head messages seemed to be about 9/11. The costume also tells a very specific story that lines up with this--and there was more to Melbourne Night 2 than Gerard deciding it was casual Friday. I'm gonna go through my personal interpretation and explain why I think MCR did this at the end of their tour. 

TLDR: This Is Not The End.

I will include image credits in the reblog since there are a lot!

AUCKLAND, March 11 2023

Based on the skirt suit and drumhead ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’, Gerard is dressed as an office worker. For simplicity I will refer to the costume as the Secretary, I see it as both a character and a metaphor. Auckland establishes the monotony and repetition of daily life prior to 9/11, ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’ showing an attitude of boredom unaware of the events to come. 

BRISBANE 1, March 13 2023

The main difference between Auckland and Brisbane 1 is the briefcase. This indicates the point in time--Auckland is the days before 9/11 and Brisbane 1 is the morning before the attacks begin. The secretary travels to work, thinking ‘Everything under Control’.

BRISBANE 2, March 14 2023

The drumhead message ‘Here Comes the AIRPLANE’ marks this as minutes or even seconds before the towers are hit. Brisbane 2 is the first time Gerard wears the coat, representing everyone taking cover. 

MELBOURNE 1, March 16 2023

I unfortunately could not find a good photo of Gerard wearing the coat from this show but you can see it on the floor behind him!

The Melbourne shows are as the towers collapse. Pretty straightforward from the Melbourne 1 drumhead ‘TERROR’. This show also had the only appearance of the umbrella, which I interpret as representing the rubble and destruction raining down. The umbrella is closed, showing the secretary is unprotected and ultimately killed when the towers fall. 

MELBOURNE 2, March 17 2023

It seemed odd at first that Melb 2 was the only show that Gerard didn’t wear a costume for, but I actually believe he still did. This is the key to my interpretation: Gerard is dressed as himself witnessing the towers collapse, on his way to work at Cartoon Network. This the only show on the Oceania leg where they played Skylines and Turnstiles*, the song Gerard wrote immediately after 9/11. The drumhead ‘BARK BARK BARK’ makes you picture, a chained dog, representing the powerless horror of only being able to watch as the destruction unfolds--the deeply personal experience that drove Gerard to form MCR. 

SYDNEY 1, March 19 2023

Blood!!!! At Sydney 1, we see the continuing aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. The secretary has died but keeps moving, picking up her briefcase and carrying on. This could be showing how a lot of people’s faith in the US government and in the world died, but life had to find a way to move on. 

SYDNEY 2, March 20 2023

At Sydney 2, the addition of Gerard’s white contacts shows the Secretary decaying--but she has not stopped. Frank changed the drumhead message from ‘UNKILLABLE’ to ‘UNKILLABLES’, expanding the meaning from the context of his accident in Sydney to include the band, the fans, and on a wider level everything MCR represents. 

I think all of this is a metaphor for the band’s career in multiple ways. Firstly, the Secretary being undead of course reflects MCR’s return, and her zombified appearance aligns with the imagery of their new era (decay, swarm, the destroyed buildings of the stage set). Secondly, it is very interesting to me that they did this sequence of costumes and drumheads at the end of their headlining tour, rather that at the start. The story they told seems to imply a rebirth--MCR was ‘born’ out of the trauma, pain and confusion of 9/11, so the fact that they represented the start of the band on stage signifies a second beginning. 

(Thank you for reading to the end and if I got anything wrong please let me know!)

*EDIT 1 (23/03/23): They actually also played Skylines at Brisbane 2. I do think the position of Skylines in the Melb 2 set is still significant. They played it as the first encore song which mirrors it being the first MCR song and written shortly after 9/11.

EDIT 2 (30/03/23): So actually 8 shows of Secretary Gerard when you include Japan! Tokyo and Osaka analysis here

#mcr australia #mcr new zealand #mcr auckland #mcr brisbane 1 #mcr brisbane 2 #mcr melbourne 1 #mcr melbourne 2 #mcr sydney 1 #mcr sydney 2 #mcr tour #my chemical romance #my chem #gerard way #unkillable #unkillables #fix fax fuck you #everything under control #here comes the airplane #mcr

[octuscle]

My boss has been giving me shit ever since I got this job. If I could just put him in his place for one day…

Your boss's day is off to a great start. Power cut. And the Tesla is not charged. The only way to get to the office is by bus and suburban train. He hates public transport. But what should he do? At the bus stop, he pulls out his cell phone to buy his ticket. All around him are schoolchildren and wetbacks on their way to work. Damn, did he pocket the cell phone of his cleaning lady from Colombia? All in Spanish. And the phone far from his own brand new show-off model. And already has a few scratches too... Maldita sea! Why can't he buy a ticket now? Tarjeta bloqueada. That's all he needs. His not-so-clean trousers hang low on his narrow hips. The waistband of his fake Calvin Klein briefs is clearly visible. When the bus arrives, he rummages in his deep trouser pockets for a few dollars. Just enough to buy a ticket.

When your boss changes trains, he realizes that his briefcase is gone. Where the hell did the hip bag come from instead? He looks inside. Tobacco, cigarette papers, a few crumpled dollar bills, some weed. And condoms. Lots and lots of condoms. His gaze falls on his reflection in the window pane. Mierda, soy un espalda mojada. ¡Un sucio y apestoso espalda mojada! Instead of his spotless white shirt, he wears a dirty wifebeater. And the jacket has become a sleeveless open plaid shirt. Not entirely clean either. His feet are in dirty biker boots. A couple of silver chains around his neck. Shit, something's not going well. When he arrives at the station, he walks towards the toilets. He needs a mirror. Sporty and dynamic, he jumps over the turnstile at the entrance. He has no more money to use the toilets. There are the mirrors. And that's no longer your boss. Okay, the other hustlers at the station all call Juan "jefe" because he has the biggest cock. But apart from that, he's nothing but a well-trained wetback hustler.

One of the other hustlers comes up to jefe and asks for a fag. Juan panics. Should he be nice to the scum? Juan will probably need help. On the other hand, the mere presence of this gay trash makes him nauseous. At least he speaks English. Juan decides to be friendly. And he tries to reply that they can share a fag. He replies in broken English with a heavy Spanish accent. The other hustler thanks him with a fist bump. He doesn't seem surprised by the language. Juan builds a cigarette, takes a first drag and passes the fag on. While they smoke in a corner of the train toilet, a punter wanders around them. Juan doesn't think much about it. He needs money. And it can't get much worse than this. His eyes and those of the punter meet. The rest happens without a word. A few minutes later, Juan kneels on the piss-strewn floor of the toilet and swallows the cum of a strange man. And he's a pro, he gets a hard-on even though the punter is rather disgusting.

It gets quieter from 10:00 onwards. The rush hour is over. There's nothing to do at the station until 16:00. Juan counts his takings. 120 dollars. Not bad. He joins the other hustlers at the kiosk in front of the station, smokes a cigarette and drinks a beer. He needs to get rid of that damn taste of cum from old fat white men. Then Juan has to go to the wholesale market and clean the market halls. He's definitely no longer the boss here. The job is also badly paid, but he has to prove he has a regular job so as not to lose his residence permit. And there are showers for the employees. If he goes back to the station sweaty and dirty, he can forget about good sales.

Juan is just getting out of the shower when a regular customer contacts him via Facetime. He asks how his favorite slut is doing. Juan poses a little in front of the cell phone camera. He doesn't understand English very well, but he knows that his customer gets horny when he shows off his hairy armpits. And the customer pays well. Most of the time, Juan even gets a bit to eat. And if he's lucky, he can even spend the night with the client and doesn't have to go to the dirty dormitory where Juan has currently rented a bed. But if he's not lucky, at least he knows where his place is.

Pic of your jefe found @marechais 

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #inked man #hairy pits #age reduction #race change #white to blue collar tf

[ggidolsmuts]

건물 사이에 피어난 장미 (Rose in the Concrete Jungle) - H1-Key Riina

Another day at work, another day past the coffee shop, another day to grind. You trundle through the turnstile of your building, beep beep. You trundle into the turnstile.

"Sir, you have the wrong card?"

Ah damn, right, not your credit card, your employee ID.

"Thanks." You nod slightly to the security guard and keep moving. The elevator is quiet and stuffy, just like your cubicle, just like any other day. You nod and harrumph assent on various meetings, and before you know it is the highlight of your day—lunch time! You eagerly file out of the building and go to the local hotspot for you and your fellow colleagues—the cafe next door. Sandwiched between two large office buildings, the cafe served as a convenient place for informal meetings, to "take things offline", as it were. Of course, it also served good and cheap food, although that came at the cost of long wait times, it was a price you and many others were willing to pay—anything to delay going back to the office.

"Hey, the usual?" You had another reason to hang around and let your lunch hour drag as long as possible. The short-haired cashier smiles at you as she is already tapping the order in.

"You got it, thanks." You stand dumbly at the counter as you watch her work the coffee machine, a soft smile on her face when she hands you the drink.

"Here you go. Your food will be out shortly."

"Thanks." You grab your receipt and wait for your number to be called. The drone of the crowd is comforting and neutral, all is fine. You occasionally look up from your phone to see if your food is out, and what the cute cashier is up to.

"Sup man!" You wince internally as you feel a solid thump on the back.

"Hey Joonho." You greet your college classmate, an asshole through and through. He mellowed out slightly after graduation, joining a competitor to your company in a similar role before rising quickly in the ranks. You kept him at arm's length, but also within arm's reach as it was still good to talk shop with—he was best engaged in small doses. Thankfully at that point in time you hear your number called. "Sorry, let me get my food." Dodging through the crowd you make your way to the counter, and she's waiting for you there, pushing your order towards you as you approach.

"Hold on, let me get my order number..." you find yourself fumbling in your pockets, but you are delightfully interrupted by her.

"No need, I know your order, you get the same thing every time!"

"Do I now? One day I'll mix it up for fun."

"Doesn't matter, I'll know." You can hear the smiley face in her voice.

"Cool, thanks a lot! Have a good one." You look for Joonho to quickly bid him goodbye, but he grabs you by the arm.

"Do you know her?"

"Who?"

"The cutie at the counter."

"Oh, no, I just come here a lot."

"Damn, I should come here more often." He releases you and goes towards her.

"Hey there, what's your name?" Joonho asks directly.

"It's Riina," she responds, taken aback at the random question.

"Nice to meet you Riina, I'm Joonho. Say, when do you get off?"

"What? Uhh we close at 4 pm."

"Great, I'll see you then," Joonho says smoothly before walking away, leaving Riina with a confused look. Joonho pats your shoulder as he leaves. "I'll be there when she gets off work, and then there'll be more getting off, eh? Well she'll be getting on me, but I'll be getting off, something like that."

"Fucker..." you mutter under your breath, yep, still an asshole, and a dumb one at that. You take your food and coffee and find a table, digging in slowly as you sought to extend your lunch hour as long as possible. When you finish you spot Riina standing at the counter unoccupied.

"Hey, Riina right?"

"Yes."

"I couldn't help but overhear earlier, about that Joonho guy?"

"Who?"

"The guy asking you what time you get off work?"

"Oh, him, what about him?"

"Yeah, I would stay away from him, he's not good news."

"Oh I can tell. I'm getting off early today anyways, so I won't be here, thanks though."

"Yeah of course, bye." It is only later that you realize you didn't even give her your name, oh well. Maybe you'll bring it up somehow tomorrow.

Lunch time tomorrow is not at all peaceful, as you come in to see Joonho shouting at Riina.

"What the fuck, you said you get off at 4 pm! I even moved a meeting for that!"

"No, I said we close at 4 pm. I got off early."

"That's not what I asked! I needed to know when you get off!"

"And I don't think you need that information, you fucking creep."

"Come on, don't be like that hmm? I just wanted to have some fun—" Joonho grabs her wrist, and you were ready to step in, but it turns out the pretty rose has the thorns to go with it. She twists out of his hold and grabs his wrist instead, pinning it to the counter. "Ow what the fuck!"

"Keep your hands to yourself!"

"Fuck, okay, let go, let go!" Joonho starts shoutng and swearing even more.

"What seems to be the problem?" The manager appears on the scene.

"Your employee just grabbed my wrist out of nowhere!"

"Nowhere? You grabbed my wrist first!" Riina shouts back, outraged.

"Let go Riina." Not too gently she complies with the manager's order. "Go home for today."

"But—"

"No buts, we'll discuss this tomorrow." Riina stomps off without a another word, leaving Joonho with a smug smirk on his face.

"My apologies, please have something from the menu, it is on the house."

"Is it now? Good, that's more like it." Joonho takes advantage of the manager's kindness, and gets the most expensive thing on the menu. He leaves arrogantly, and in his wake you had to speak up.

"Excuse me, I saw the whole thing, he grabbed your employee's wrist first."

"I know, but this is easier, otherwise he would come back and raise more fuss, the last thing we want is a distraction every day, bad for business."

"You're not getting rid of her are you?"

"Riina? God no, she's our best employee. She needed the break anyways." You can't bring yourself to disagree with him, so you merely nod and make your order. As you munch on your food again you see Riina stomping out from the back, through the food hall. You grab your half-eaten bulgogi burrito and rush up to her.

"Hey, sorry about that."

"It's not your fault, you're not that spineless wimp. Do you know him?"

"Kinda? He's an old classmate from college, he was also an asshole back then."

"Huh, figures."

"Yeah, sorry, I should have spoke up sooner, I told your manager what happened."

"Thanks, I guess? And enough with the sorry, I'm just going to enjoy the extra time off. I'll be back tomorrow anyways." She eyes the burrito. "You really did mix it up huh?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah it was all so distracting, so I just ordered something random."

"Well, come back tomorrow and order your usual. I'll see you then."

"Good, it's a date then." You regret your words as soon as you said it, why did you say that?! Riina doesn't seem to notice, as she's already walking away and waving you good bye. But she’s smiling when she turns away.

Kinda cute, better than that asshole, that's for sure.

Next day you prepare a small note, writing your name and phone number on it. In the office you ponder over whether or not you should follow through and give it to her, and by the time you decide to do it you've missed the lunch hour. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Riina still working the counter.

"You're late for the date," she chides you jokingly. "The usual?"

"Yeah, sorry, yes please, just the usual." As you hand her the credit card to swipe you place the note on it too, holding it on the underside. Riina feels the different texture, and she slips the paper into her pocket before finishing the payment. She gives you a piece of paper in return—your receipt.

"Your food will be out shortly." Her expression is neutral, and with your heart hammering you nod and walk away like a fool. She's not there when you go pick up your food, and you sigh as you see her busy at work—of course she hasn't had a chance to look at your note! You trudge back to your office on a dour note, and the day drags on. It drags on so long that you almost miss the buzz of your phone—a message from an unknown number. You almost delete it out of hand before remembering that you had given Riina the note earlier today, and hurriedly you open the message.

*Hey there :)*

*Hi, Rina right?*

*Riina. At least I won't misspell your name*

*How do you know I didn't misspell my own name?*

*Surely you're not that dumb, you know how to spell your name. Anyways, drop by the food hall at 5?*

*Isn't it closed at 4?*

*Yes, to outsiders, and then we have to clean and do the receipts and close up, come by at 5 and I'll let you in*

Thrilled you agree, and time couldn't flow any slower. You make an excuse to leave early, and although you are greeted by the dim interior of the already closed food hall, you knock on the glass door. Riina smiles as she walks towards you and lets you in.

"Hey."

"Hi, I'm almost done with closing up, do you want to get something to eat after?" You are surprised to say the least, and you readily agree to her forward request. The date goes well, and in front of her apartment Riina pulls you in by your tie and gives you a daring kiss. It starts off as a peck, then another, and before you know it she's grabbing your shirt, pulling you close. You reciprocate in kind, leaning into the kiss more urgently, an arm wrapped around her waist, oh how easy it would be to slip it under— What are you doing?

"Whoa." You step back, and Riina releases her hold on you.

"Too soon?" She asks, her face flushed. There is heat between the two of you.

"A little? Just surprised, about tonight, about everything, you know? I just gave you my number today and here we are—"

"Yeah, this is just for fun okay? I like you, but I don't know where this is going and I don't want to think about it. Can you do that?"

"Mmhmm," you pull her close this time, kissing her lips before moving sideways, along her cheek, gently capturing her earlobe. No thinking, you say the first thing that comes to mind. "Can I come up?"

A whine of frustration says otherwise. "Roommates— I mean, housemates, sorry. Next time." The heat dissipates.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, see you for your usual."

"Great." Riina waves awkwardly. She squirms as you walk away, a need taking root, her rose drenched. She starts to make plans, ways to get her housemates out of the place... She's going to need to take a shower first.

You see her at work the next few days, and things are good, Riina greets you with wider smiles, even giving you a free cookie. You still run into Joonho occasionally who takes the opportunity to bug you, but he gives Riina a wide berth. That is, until his order was messed up.

"I asked for oat milk, not almond milk! That's like giving me a bag of milk instead of a cup of milk!" He slams the cup angrily on the counter, and some of it splashes into her.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I'll remake your order right away."

"And I want that deluxe bulgogi sandwich, on the house! Get me your manager!" Joonho demands.

"I umm..." Riina looks for the manager. You hurriedly put a hand around Joonho's shoulder.

"Yo man chill, it's just a coffee eh? Come on, I'll get you the right coffee and the sandwich eh, how about that?" Delighted at more free food, he immediately forgets that he was angry?

"Hey I'll take you up on that, thanks!"

"Sweet, can I get two coffees with oat milk, and that bulgogi sandwich?" you ask Riina quietly, your eyes asking her the question you can't voice right now.

"Umm yes, of course sir, so sorry, it'll be right out."

"Great, thanks!" You hand her your card. "Hold on to it for me." You quickly drag Joonho away before he could raise more of a fuss. You allow yourself to endure him ranting about the difference between oat and almond milk, all while thinking that it's nuts. You heart twinges as you see the smile disappear from Riina's face, even when you go pickup your food. By the time Joonho thanks you for the treat and lets you go, she's disappeared into the back, so you settle for texting her in the office.

*You okay?*

*Yeah, thanks for helping out there, I'll pay you back!*

*No no it's okay, it's worth it*

*I'm closing tonight, come by later?*

*I can only get out at 6, is that fine?*

*Sure, I'll be there*

You nervously wait for 6 pm, and you're glad to see her when she lets you into the deserted food hall and seats you at a table.

"I'm quitting," Riina says bluntly as she sits down opposite you, and your heart drops.

"What? Why? That was such a minor error!"

"Yeah but I can't be bothered to deal with that anymore, done dealing with assholes."

"I... I understand, that's too bad. I'll umm, miss you."

"Oh, we're not seeing each other anymore?" Riina teases. "I wouldn't mind seeing more of you... Speaking of which, let's continue where we left off." She traces a finger on your hand.

"Where we... here?"

"Yes, just sit there, pretend you're eating lunch and drinking coffee." With that you watch Riina disappear under the table. You look down as she fumbles with your pants, and she looks expectantly at you when they are undone. You get up slightly, and in a moment your pants and then your boxers are lowered. You're a little embarrassed, but very turned on as Riina grips your shaft firmly. All thoughts of your usual meal is wiped away as she makes a meal of your cock, taking you into her mouth. She starts off tentatively, licking your tip and some of your shaft, but when she hears your stifled moan vibrating through your cock she becomes more daring, sucking on it and going deeper on you.

Anyone looking in would be wondering why someone is just sitting at the food hall after hours, so you try to maintain a neutral expression, to appear perfectly normal to anyone that might walk by. It gets harder by the second as the pleasure builds, and Riina seems to notice your throbbing, going faster now. Thankfully no one walks by, no one kills the mood, and so it continues, your hands forming fists on the table.

"Fuck Riina, gonna cum!" you rasp. You feel Riina murmur "Mmhmm" around your cock, and you only try to hold on a little longer. She takes you extra deep into her throat, and at that moment you burst. Your thighs flex and twitch, and a hand smacks the table not too quietly as you pour nut milk straight into Riina's mouth. When you finally finish you relax and half slump over the table, your hands barely working to do your pants up underneath.

"How was that?" Riina asks, smacking her lips delectably. "I hope there's more where that came from."

"Maybe I should—" you try to duck underneath the table yourself, but she stops you hurriedly.

"No, there's surveillance cameras here!"

"And you just blew me!"

"T-That's different!"

"Fine, let's go back to your place then." You grab her by the arm, but she doesn't move.

"No, housemates." Fuck, that's right. "Can we go to your place?"

"It's far, like almost an hour out." The need to be satisfied now weighed against her need to be satisfied thoroughly, and in the end the latter won out.

"Let's go then."

It was almost cute how Riina held your hand while the two of you sat in the taxi—if only it wasn't so damn painful as she squeezes you over and over.

"You okay?" you ask, worried that she wasn't feeling up for it.

"Hm? Yeah yeah," she dismisses you, choosing to look out the window instead. When you arrive you stop her before entering your apartment building.

"You seem really nervous, we don't have to do anything tonight if you're having second thoughts."

"What? Don't back out of this now!" Riina half shouts.

"You were squeezing my hand so hard on the ride over—" she take your hand and yanks it down, placing it between her legs. Just that touch alone is enough to make her hiss in pleasure—she's drenched.

"I need you so bad right now, I was this close to jumping you on the taxi!" At her frank admission you kiss her fiercely, and without thinking she jumps into your arms, wrapping her legs around you. Just like that you carry her into the elevator and then your apartment.

"Water?"

"What? No, I'm good."

"Have some water, sit down please," you command Riina, and she blushes when she realizes what you wanted to do. When you duck under the table you see she is more than ready to help you, her legs already spread, the button on her jeans already undone. You pull her jeans off her legs, and you could sense the heat coming from between her thighs. The panties she wore slide off her legs quickly after, and you pull the chair closer to you, trapping her between the table and the chair. She half slumps on the chair as you reach around and pull her hips to you for better access. Time to go to work.

"Mmm!" Riina's hand jerks and narrowly misses knocking the cup of water over as your press your tongue against her slit, coaxing her flower to bloom. Up and down you swipe your tongue, and Riina slides up and down on the chair, trying to feel more of you. Her whines and whimpers are heavenly as you find her bean, gently French pressing it with your lips and tongue, grinding the juices out of her. You run your hands up and down her thighs, and Riina's sinking down the chair, trying to push more of her into your face. Riina's toned thighs close around your head, an orgasm brewing quickly within her. She knocks the cup over, the water spilling from it and leaking down the table—your hair gets wet, which makes it easier for Riina to grip as she twists her fingers in them. She wants you to stop, she wants to cum on your cock, but her body has other ideas, and her hand shoves your face deeper into her.

"I, I— Ahh!" With a sharp yelp Riina orgasms hard, the built up tension from giving you a blowjob earlier finally released. Your head shakes as hard as she does, her thighs twisting and twitching against the sides of your head. You give her pussy slow licks to bring her down, her pink rose dewy and trembling—you had to have more. She lets out something between a cough and a moan as you do a French press and then a French kiss between her legs. A smack on your head stops you from making out with her pussy. You bang your head as you forget about the table above you, and Riina laughs tiredly.

"I almost did that earlier, but enough, I want more."

"I was going to, but you pushed me away."

"You know what I mean." Riina stands up and pulls your shirt open—she likes what she sees and rips it off completely. Her legs are wrapped around you once more, and your hands squeeze her ass as you carry her to the bedroom. It is feral the way she tears off the rest of her clothes before she jumps your pants, looking to strip you naked as quickly as possible. You overpower her, but Riina is the one in control as her legs hook around your thighs, making sure you don't stray too far.

"C-Condom!" You gasp as your shaft rests on her mons, but Riina's already grabbing and aiming for you.

"You're clean right?"

"Yes."

"Same, what are we waiting for." It's too late to turn back as your tip presses and pushes through her lips. Riina holds her breath as you oh-so-slowly fill her. "Fuck, don't tease me!"

"I— I'm not, you're so tight..." She helps and hinders you with that, her legs pushing you into her even as her pussy tightens around you further. You close your eyes to steady yourself, not wanting to give in to the intense pressure around your shaft. The sight you see when you open eyes doesn't help—Riina's tight body is below you, one hand on a perky breast, another hand on her belly, as if feeling how deep you're in her. And she's smirking.

"That good huh?"

"Yeah, fucking amazing," you admit. "You?"

"Even better."

"Doesn't seem like it." You lean down on top of her, and she wraps her arms around your neck as she whispers.

"Only because you're not moving yet, I'm barely holding it together."

What about now? That was what you wanted to ask Riina, but the answer is self-evident as she has to muffle a moan into your shoulder when you start grinding into her. All too quickly she's falling apart beneath you, like a bean that's slowly crushed by pleasure, threatening to burst. She allows you to prick her with your prick again and again, squirming against you, yearning for more friction. You draw circles with your hips and it makes your tip stir vigorously inside her, her clit stimulated after every revolution. Riina's gasping as she does a pourover on your shaft, but you needed more to finish making the drink. Your hands find her taut midriff, and you hold her still as you begin fucking her, replacing the grinding with some good old-fashioned pounding.

"Oh fuck that's even better, don't stop, don't stop!" You are as big as she is tight, and her body rolls in pleasure. You time your thrusts to hit her sweet spot, rendering Riina speechless. She's clenching around you randomly, and you watch her flat tummy flex and twitch. Your own endurance frays, and you slow your thrusts, much to Riina's annoyance.

"Don't, keep going! I'm going to cum so hard!"

"Fuck, me too!" You plan to pull out, but you needed to get her off first. You lean back down, capturing a breast as you start pounding her once more. You rock her body with each slam, and your teeth graze her nipple over and over. With one particularly deep thump you crush Riina's bean of pleasure completely, and she explodes.

"Oh fuck..." The explosion is nothing more than a mere whisper, but you feel her detonate around you, her walls suddenly milking you with desperate need. Riina's body is rigid, every muscle is tense, including the ones contracting around you. She relaxes for a brief moment, for one wispy breath, and then—

"Hnngh god!" She seizes up again, firmly gripping your cock once more. Each contraction tugs on you, stretching your endurance just a little too far. Fuck, you are right there.

"Riina—" You try to get her attention when she relaxes, but she's still in the throes of powerful ecstasy.

"Mmm yes!" Her walls slam against your shaft once more, and you are too far gone. You kiss her, and Riina moans and shouts into the kiss as you fill her up with creamy seed. Her pussy reacts to the sudden warmth, milking you rather than trying to crush your shaft, extending your orgasm. Mindlessly you return to grinding against her, squeezing every drop into her—Riina moans when she feels the hot liquid overflow, seeping out from the connection, and when you slip out a rush of it spills on to the sheets.

You collapse on Riina's limp form, your orgasms sapping any strength either of you had. You gently suck on her neck, and you feel Riina's lips on your skin too. Your arms wrap around one another, hugging each other tight as the high wears off.

"Fuck, I'm sorry..." you mutter.

"For what? That was amazing."

"I came in you, I didn't pull out in time."

"I... It's okay I think, I'll grab something for it in the morning." Riina says, albeit with some worry. You hold her close and cuddle her.

"I'll go with you, you can stay the night if you want." Surprisingly she blushes, and she gently pushes you away.

"No, I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet. I can get it tomorrow myself."

"Oh umm, okay, are you sure?" you ask, fearing that the whole night was a mistake.

"Yes, sure. Do you mind if I use your shower?" You give her a tower, and Riina excuses herself to the bathroom to clean up. You are clothed again by the time she exits the shower, and you walk her down.

"Riina I—"

"I'll be fine, I'm just not ready for, you know, staying the night."

"No, yeah I get it, things moved a little fast."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Aren't you quitting?"

"No, I kinda want to see more of you, you know? I'll see you for your usual." You can't help but smile as Riina gets in the taxi and disappears.

Since that night you look forward to lunch every day now, and Joonho pesters you about your hickeys while festering about those on Riina that you can't help but leave on her—somehow he never makes the connection. You drop by one evening, when you know Riina's the only one closing up for the day.

"Hey there cutie. Say, when do you get off?" You ask her in your smarmiest tone.

"God you are terrible at flirting." She winks and pulls you close.  "That depends, how fast can you carry me to the storeroom?"

Time for more grinding.

A/N: For those of you who don’t know, H1-Key’s Rose Blossom is the song the title refers to, the Korean title is the name of the song, go check it out. It went a little viral in Korea because it was one of the rare songs with no English in it. Anyways Riina immediately caught my eye, she’s cute with the short haircut but has an amazing figure midriff and thighs, so I always wanted to write her eventually. And when I took the title literally it worked out into this idea. She’s also in Queendom Puzzle so do check that out!

Finally another story too, I recognize that I’ve been taking longer between stories, and the quality may be more inconsistent because of it. Writing is a hobby that requires my brain to be on, and lately I’ve been gravitating to just playing games because I can turn my brain off. As a result the frequency suffers and the quality may not be as good, because I may forget writing themes and points I had used earlier in the story. It is what it is at this point. I still have ideas and random BFH ideas that spring to mind, but it’s just gonna take longer to post them. I might post a Yubin quickie because there is a particular outfit that is living rent-free in my head, but yeah, general output is gonna be closer to the 2 a month for the past few months rather than the near 1 a week from before.

As always, thanks for reading!

#smut #riina #h1-key

[bullet-prooflove]

TornApart!Series Part Six: Family - Jubal Valentine x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @trublu2u @greenies-green @darqchilddaydreamz @proceduralpassion @burningpeachpuppy @evee87 @delightfulheroshoeflap @iworldlywriter @helsinkibaby @penguin876 @justamadgirlinabox @a-noni-love @brownskinbaby22 @oklahomapeach @yezzyyae @soultrysworld

Torn!Apart Series:

Part One: Nothing To Tell - Rina forces Jubal to make a choice.

Part Two: Pause - Jubal breaks your heart.

Part Three: One Sip - Jubal knows all it takes is one sip.

Part Four: Real Talk - Scola gets real with Jubal.

Part Five: Don't Lie to Me (NSFW) - Jubal comes clean about Rina.

Body language is important, Jubal knows that from the undercover work he’s done over the years. It’s the thing that lets most new agents down when they’re training for UC operations. He’s used to projecting strength and confidence, basic leadership principles however today he has to check himself because he knows that Rina is watching.

He pauses for a second before he steps inside 26 Fed. There can be no suspicion that he spent the night with you, no signs that he’s not the forlorn, heartbroken spectre that’s walked through the reception area these past couple of weeks.

He forces himself to forget the contented noise you made when he kissed you goodbye this morning, his hand smoothing over your hair as you lay twisted up in your sheets. It been before five and he’d needed to get back to his place to shower and change. Yesterday’s clothes would be a telltale sign, as would the scent of your shower oil. It’s little things like that can raise a red flag and he will not take a chance of compromising you.

He takes a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to fill his lungs as he adjusts the messenger bag on his shoulder. He thinks of the past few weeks, how empty his world had become, how devoid of colour. It dampens that brightness that surges through his veins at being reunited with you, pushes it down until there’s no echo of it.

He steps inside the building with his shoulders slumped and his head down, moving at his usual brisk pace. He can feel Rina’s eyes on him from the balcony above and it adds an extra weight. He thinks about everything that could go wrong, and it gives him that pinched expression, the one that indicates how stressed he is. He swipes his security pass over the machine before he passes through the turnstile and into the depths of the building.

When he reaches the JOC it’s quiet, he doesn’t expect any less. It’s too early for anyone else to be here, it’s become part of his routine in the past few weeks without you. Stay late, come in early, a way to get his mind off your absence. He has to maintain that if he wants to continue this charade for Rina.

He doesn’t realise Isobel is in, not until she opens the door to her office and indicates for him to come inside.

“Is something wrong?” He asks her taking up residence in one of the visitor’s chairs across from her desk.

“Scola informed me of your predicament.” She tells him before sliding a file across the desk towards him.

Jubal frowns as he reaches forward and picks up the folder. He isn’t surprised that Scola got there before him, the other man is practical, proactive. The longer this goes on, the more likely it is that Jubal will slip up and you’ll pay the price for it. The two of you had talked about bringing Isobel in on the whole thing last night, there’s no love lost between her and the Acting Director, Isobel has connections the two of you don’t. It made sense.

His gaze strays to the paperwork inside of the folder. He reads through the emails, his heart wrenching as he takes in the details.

“She’s already put the transfer through.” He says as his vision starts to tunnel. It feels like the air has rushed out of the room and he can’t fucking breathe.

“I’ve spoken to S.A.C Morrison, he’s fighting it but…”

“She’s the Assistant Director.” Jubal states, his voice rough as his palm rubs over his goatee. His world is falling apart, he can feel the whole thing shifting underneath his feet.

“I’m speaking to the other heads of divisions; we’re going to appeal to the Director to have her removed due to issues with operational decisions but that takes time.” Isobel tells him.

“So, this is it?” Jubal asks her, his voice full of desperation. “Stefani gets shoved back under?”

Isobel shakes her head.

“I had a conversation with Assistant Director of the Fugitive Task Forces, we came through the academy together. She says if one of her S.A.Cs puts in a request for Stefani and her expertise as a special assignment that would delay the transfer to Undercover Operations indefinitely.”

“Special assignment takes priority over everything else.” Jubal agrees, his brain stumbles over the details. “Rina wouldn’t be able to enforce it.”

“No, she would not.” Isobel says with the ghost of a smile. “Remy Scott sent the application through this morning, his team’s been a man down since Barnes went on maternity leave. He’s been looking for someone with the right skillset to fill the role. It’ll be a bit more travel for Stefani, but she gets to stay here in New York, with you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Jubal tells her as he leans forward so that he can meet Isobel’s gaze. “You have no idea what this means to me, to the both of us.”

“I do.” She tells him honestly. “What Rina’s doing to you, it isn’t fair, and I can’t sit back and let that happen. The two of you were there for me when David Owen broke into my home, I will forever be grateful for that.”

Jubal swallows hard against the ache in his chest.

“Yea well, you’re family.” He tells her. “And family looks after each other, right?”

“Yea.” Isobel says simply. “They do.”

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#jeremy sisto #jubal valentine #fbi #jubal valentine x you #jubal valentine x reader

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐲 𝐈 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬.

— pairing; bonten! sano manjirou x reader  

— summary; in which you mistake the leader of bonten for a homeless man, and offer him money

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my content and wish to support me. reblogs are appreciated !!

❋ Of course, it would rain on the day of your job interview.

❋ A loud retort of thunder brings the rain pouring down, sending people into a panic. Umbrellas go up in the crowd, and those without them hastily find shelter in shops or quicken their pace to get out of the rain.

❋ You have a pocket umbrella in your bag, but it’s completely forgotten in your panicked haste to escape the thunder and the drizzle.

❋ You end up taking shelter in an ornate parapet with a young man about your age, as you try to brush droplets of rain from your clothes and face. He spares you only an indifferent passing glance, but the bleakness in his eyes frightens you. You’ve never seen anyone look so desolate, so utterly broken. It’s almost if there’s no life in him. He looks as grey as death with deep shadows etched upon the angles and planes of his breath-taking face.

❋ You stand beside him in silence, sensing that he probably isn’t one for small talk. Instead, you check the weather reports on your phone, relieved to find out that this is just a passing shower. And indeed, the sudden downpour already seems to be lightening into a drizzle.

❋ “Here, take this.” You unzip your bag and push your umbrella towards him. And though he takes it from you, his eyes remain as blank as ever. “It’s fine, I’ll be out of the rain in a bit!”

❋ You fumble with your purse, and withdraw a thin fold of cash, which is also pressed into his hands. This time, his mask slips for just a second. But as soon as the dull surprise registers in his face, it’s gone, sealed away behind cold grey eyes and an expression carved from marble. “You should also probably buy something nice to eat or find a place to stay for the night.”

❋ It’s with a last smile and a quick wave that you’re on your way. The icy rain trickles down the back of your scarfless neck, but the discomfort lasts for only a short time. You soon duck into a twenty-story office building, a sleek spire of gleaming grey that pierces the clouds.

❋ The interior is just as awe-inspiring, with golden-veined marble floors and walls, and brushed aluminium security desk and turnstiles. A very pretty receptionist shows you into a spacious glass-walled meeting room furnished with a spacious table of dark wood table and at least twenty matching chairs.

❋ The meeting room boasts floor-to-ceiling views of the impressive Tokyo skyline, as you take a seat, you find yourself nearly wilting in relief that you’ve managed to arrive on time. You have no idea what Bonten will do to late-comers, but considering your first encounter with them . . . You have a vague inkling that it can’t be anything good.

❋ The man who enters the room introduces himself as Takeomi Akashi. He’s tall, and dressed in a fine grey suit, a pink shirt and a maroon tie. His hair is slicked back, away from his face, and his eyes almost seem to be assessing you with a shrewd gaze. An unlit cigarette dangles between his lips.

❋ He pages through your resume and must like what he sees, for he nods approvingly and almost smiles at you. “Ordinarily, you would be interviewed by someone else, but you came . . . Highly recommended from Ran and Rindou.”

❋ Ah. Right. How could you forget the day those two barged into your clinic at closing time, held you at gunpoint, and demanded that you treat a pink-haired co-worker of theirs? And then proceeded to offer you a job as Bonten’s doctor before the blood had so much as dried upon your latex gloves.

❋ You grimace. “Thanks?”    

❋ Akashi, thankfully, doesn’t comment on the expression on your face, but instead begins asking you questions, ones you’re sure would never be asked in a normal job interview. What benefits can you bring to the organization? Have you ever fired a gun? Have you ever thought about killing someone?

❋ And so it goes. You answer the questions as best as you can, and you think that you’ve been sitting with Akashi for about ten minutes when the door to the conference room opens, and the man from the bus stop strides into the room.

❋ You do a double take, but the man doesn’t even give you a second glance as he breezes by you and conducts a hushed conversation with Akashi. You hastily glance out the window and try to lose yourself in the stunning views, trying to give them some semblance of privacy. The conversation is brief, and is over as suddenly as it had begun. The man from the bus stop leaves, and it’s just you and Akashi once again.

❋ “Congratulations.” Akashi says, and the frown on his face smoothens out. “Welcome to Bonten.”

❋ You have no doubt in your mind that the man from the bus stop had come in to pull some strings, and you frown, still confused. You crane your neck, trying unsuccessfully to catch a last glimpse of the stranger. “Uh, can he do that?”

❋ “Hire you?” At your nod, Akashi says, “He’s our boss. Didn’t you know that?”

❋ Oh. Oh no.

❋ What have you done?

#bonten imagines #bonten headcanons #bonten mikey #sano manjiro #sano majiro x reader #manjiro sano #mikey sano #mikey sano x reader #mikey sano imagines #sano manjiro headcanons #mikey sano headcanons #tokyo revengers reader inserts #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers reader insert #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers x you #♥ || sam writes

[lavenderbexlatte]

legendary: chapter 12

stray kids 8.4k words female reader insert SFW

🖤 warnings: reuniting, horrible puns, complicated feelings and bad communication, bang chan’s problem with loyalty above all else, wlw antics but just a little bit, if you haven’t seen the Pokemon Indigo League episode The Tower of Terror i recommend it for spoilers 🖤

Legendary Series Masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

Saffron City is the largest city in the entire region, and it shows.

All the other cities you've visited are similar, but this one is just so undeniably big. Densely-packed tall buildings, not so much urban sprawl with one specific highly-developed downtown but rather an urban center that covers many square miles, endless skyscraper apartments and office buildings. It seems that as the city grew, it grew up and out equally, height and circumference together.

It's stunning. If you like cities, that is, and you like them just fine.

Gorgeous, as the now very dusty SUV picks its way down one-way streets, as Matthew calls out directions from the passenger's seat and helps Somin navigate toward that address on that slip from Pallet Town.

"Do we know what we're gonna do when we get there?" you ask.

"No," says Somin, distractedly.

"Because we might need a plan."

"We'll just - damn it!" she hisses, as she hits another red light. "I hate it here."

"It's this next turn," Matthew reports.

Despite her complaining, Somin navigates easily into the correct lane, and it's only a matter of moments before the car is pulling up on front of just the most garish chromed-out building you've ever seen.

It's got an enormous logo across the top corner, the word 'KeyCorp" spelled out in golden block letters. But as you gaze up at it, as Somin parks and Matthew complains and J.Seph figures out how the parking meter works, you can see a different outline below those letters. The shape is stained into the paint, betraying that the building used to be called something different, belong to someone else. An S, you think. An I, an L...

The street address, written on the building's front entrance on a placard, fills in the blanks. 2 Silph Drive. This was SilphCo.

"What was SilphCo known for, again?" you ask.

"That's an old company," Matthew frowns. "Wicked old."

"The first Master Ball," says Somin.

"The only Master Ball," J.Seph corrects.

"I'm sure there are more, now."

"Maybe not. Ever seen one?"

"No," Somin replies, "But why would they make just one?"

"Experiment," Matthew says.

"If it's that powerful, I'm sure they would make more."

"Let's find out," you say.

The lobby is pristine to the point of abject inhumanity.

It's scrubbed clean, gleaming floors and security cameras in every corner and the distant clicking of shoes, somewhere. Elevator bays disappear into the higher reaches of the towering building, behind a row of turnstiles with scanners and a metal detector. A long, polished wood desk sits there in the entry before it all, manned by a bored-looking young woman in a pale gold uniform.

"Hello," she says, dully. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes," Somin lies.

"With whom?"

"With...Ms. Lee?"

The woman pauses, and then nods, returning her gaze to her computer screen. "Let me check her appointments for today to confirm."

You glance at her. There wasn't any plan in place. She's making this up on the fly, and though it's working so far, with her good choice of generic name, there's no telling how far the grift can carry you.

"It's such a relief to be back in the office, on normal hours," Somin says, conversationally.

"I'm sure."

"We've had such a long drive."

The receptionism tsks. "It's the worst, isn't it? A bad commute?"

Somin's simper doesn't fail. "It really is. After the Pallet Town assignment and all..."

She's scanning the woman's face carefully for any change in expression, at her name-drop, but the receptionist just hums noncommittally.

"What are you doing?" you hiss, as quietly as you can manage.

"Getting us checked in for our appointment," Somin replies.

All this time laying low and making plans and sneaking around to get information, and she just wants to boldfaced lie to get into the building like this. It's admirably ballsy.

"Um, I don't see any appointments with Ms. Lee today..."

The receptionist glances among the four of you, more than a little suspicious, like she's actually taking in your casual clothes and travel-ruffled appearances.

"What's your name, again?" she asks.

Somin looks at you. You look at J.Seph. He looks at Matthew.

Matthew takes off for the scanners, vaulting himself over the turnstile. "We're bustin' in!"

Crimes. He did say he liked the crimes.

The three of you have no choice but to follow.

It was an easy leap for Matthew, tall as he is, and J.Seph also clears the turnstiles easily enough, but you and Somin have to scramble overtop bodily. Matthew has already hailed an elevator by the time you're on the other side of the security unit, and you pile into the waiting car, the door sliding shut on the sound of the receptionist calling ahead for help.

"Four of them - kind of homeless looking, I don't know-"

"I looked so much worse than this when I was homeless," Matthew says, jackhammer-pressing a random floor number.

"Great plan, fuckwad!" J.Seph says, smacking Matthew on the shoulder. "Now they're after us!"

"Nah. We can get a good look around before they catch us, if nothin' else."

"Security is probably already coming," says Somin.

"We'll outsmart 'em."

"Got a plan, then?" you ask.

"No," says Matthew. "But we'll figure something out."

"We can't just wing every single thing we do!"

"You guys are so dramatic."

The elevator reaches the fifteenth floor, and stops.

Unfortunately for Matthew and his general optimism, there are people waiting in the hallway beyond, and they don't look all that friendly. Three of them, dressed in black and gold uniforms, each with a utility belt holding a row of Pokeballs, they're all but tapping their toes as they come into full view between the opening doors.

J.Seph lunges for the buttons to close the door again, but there must be a kill switch somewhere, because the lights inside the elevator click off and the humming of the motor stops completely.

"Seriously?" one of the security officers says.

"Are we really worth your time?" Somin asks, with a sneer.

It's moments like these when you remember that she's more or less a criminal for hire. The poise. The aura.

"You shouldn't be in here," the officer says.

"And yet, here we are."

"We're going to escort you back down."

Somin smiles. "I don't think so."

She's talking a big game for someone with no Pokemon, and you're fascinated. What if she can just talk her way out of this?

"Okay," the officer says, "Then they are."

He pulls out a Pokeball, and his companions do the same.

So much for talking.

"Round up these clowns," the officer commands, as he releases his Pokemon.

But as soon as the Pokemon emerges, it stops.

Coiled on the ground, intelligent eyes peering at the group of you, still pressed into the elevator together, it's simply watching. It barely fits in the hallway, it's so big.

"Arbok!" Somin gasps.

You nearly choke on nothing. "No fucking way it's the same-"

"Arbok!" Somin repeats, elated.

The Pokemon hisses, practically wriggling, and it lunges forward to nudge its giant purple head into the elevator car so that Somin can scratch it down the snout with both hands. It's her Pokemon, alright. Apparently taking away their assets and putting them to better use means relegating perfectly battle-trained and well-loved Pokemon to guard duty with a bunch of arrogant pig-

"Get back here!" the officer howls. "Arbok, Tackle!"

"Arbok doesn't know Tackle," Somin says.

"Well, they promised me a stupid fuckin' animal that knows-"

"I'm sorry, is that how we talk about Pokemon around here?" asks Somin, cool audacity in her voice.

He's in trouble, now.

"I'll talk about that thing however I damn please!"

"Enough of this," one of the other officers says, "C'mon-"

He lets out his own Pokemon, which is equally useless, because he lets out Weezing. J.Seph's Weezing. You know, because it immediately joins Arbok in trying to cram itself into the tiny elevator car to be close to its trainer.

Stunned, the final officer tries his hand, and the resulting Pokemon is so tall and heavy that it cracks a hole in the ceiling as it stands up fully.

"Golem!" Matthew crows.

Terrible, excellent dumb luck.

"Earthquake," the last officer orders.

But Golem ignores him. Obviously, these Pokemon aren't about to listen to anyone but their trainers. And their trainers are here, now.

"Team K," the first officer says, realization dawning on his face.

"Have we met?" J.Seph asks.

"I mean - we didn't - not officially-"

"Oh, I remember," says Somin lightly, edging around her Pokemon to step into the hallway properly. "You three were in the unit that came to repossess our pets."

You catch the unspoken hint in Somin's recognition of the men: you're in the right place. KeyCorp is the right company. The officers step back almost instinctively as Somin steps forward, her own gait slow and predatory.

"It's unfortunate that you did that."

"It was our assignment," he redirects. "Nothing personal."

You wonder if she feels the irony that you do, in that statement. You can't help but remember Somin saying the exact same thing to you, once upon a time. Nothing personal. It's never anything personal, is it?

"You could have refused," she suggests.

"Not a direct order from the boss, we couldn't."

"Then I have a message for your boss," says Somin.

They're just corporate security officers, which means they're plainclothes, no armor, no weapons. Just the Pokemon, and those have already been proven to be at least partially Team K's own Pokemon, stolen. She walks right up to that first officer, standing uncertainly at the front of his little squadron.

She's about a head shorter than him, but she sneers, winds up, and delivers an uppercut to his jaw that sends the man sprawling.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" his teammate swears.

Somin shakes out her hand, her knuckles already reddening. "Don't fucking touch my Pokemon."

For a second, there's no sound other than the security officer groaning in pain from the floor, the clink of his uniform badges against the tile, as he writhes.

And then Matthew whistles, admiring. "Minny, you're the man, for real."

"You wanna give the rest of their Pokemon back?" you ask.

"As if," the second officer says, but his voice is shaky.

You hum, reaching into your pack and taking out one of your own Pokeballs.

"I wonder who's better at battling," you muse, tossing the ball from hand to hand, "Us...or you."

The second officer scoffs. "We're not just going to give you-"

A clattering sound makes him turn, to see the first officer running down the hall, a spotty trail of blood in his wake. His utility belt, with all of Somin's Pokeballs fixed to it, lays on the floor where he'd been standing.

"Apparently, you are," Somin says. "Quickly, please, we'd like to be on our way.

Really, you think to yourself, as the four of you ride the elevator back down to the lobby, Team K with all of their recovered Pokeballs in their arms, this wasn't so bad. Maybe you should just do everything without a plan. It's worked well so far. It worked damn well here.

There are no other security personnel waiting on the ground floor, no city police. No sign at all that you just had a physical altercation up there, inside a swanky corporate building.

It's almost too easy.

"I think they're letting us go," you say.

Matthew makes a noise like he wants to disagree, but J.Seph nods.

"I think so, too."

"Why would they let us get away with that?" you ask, rhetorical but curious. "I mean, they know who you are, right?"

"Right," J.Seph agrees. "They know all the dirt on us. They might even be following us, after that."

"Think they could have been following the whole time?"

"No," says Somin. "It wouldn't have been worth it, before, not when we were regular contractors and especially not after they cut us off."

"But now that we've proven we're too much for them to handle..." J.Seph trails.

"Then let's do something normal to throw them off," you suggest.

"Like?"

You grin. "The Saffron City gym is all Psychic type. Wanna go play?"

----------

You're biased in thinking that the most beautiful gym in the world is Celadon Gym, but the gleaming silver columns and vaulted arches of the Saffron Gym are also stunning.

It's big. Really big, and gorgeous. For a gym in a big city, you're surprised there isn't more traffic in the area. Spectators, or tourists, if not trainers looking for a battle. Your own home gym has school groups touring it, and private lessons, but this place is austere, quiet.

The van is the only car in the lot, when you and the others leave it there and make your way to the front doors.

They open for you, motion-activated and silent. Unlike in Celadon, there's no welcome committee, nowhere for you to check in or ask questions. That suits you just fine, though.

"Better just find the staff," J.Seph mutters.

"Probably in there?"

Somin's probably right, considering the enormous glass-paned double doors across from the entrance light up even as she speaks, quaking with the force of a blow on the other side, the telltale signs of battling happening in the next room.

So that's where you go.

Most of what's back there meets your expectations.

It's a beautiful empty space, golden walls and marble columns, a clearly-marked battle arena on the floor. There are a few comfort features, some spare tables and a line of doors that must lead off into more functional rooms, but mostly it's an intimidating space.

There are trainers, most of them in similar deep green uniforms giving away their status as members of the gym. There are Pokemon, primarily Psychic types but also some others - you can spot a good number of Ghost and Electric types among them.

The thing that you don't expect to see is a familiar face.

He's not wearing the same uniform as everyone else, so he stands out regardless. You zero in on the streaked hair despite yourself, on the rakish grin as the trainer guides his Alakazam in a battle against a Slowbro.

"Damn," Matthew says. "They don't fuck around in here."

One of the uniformed trainers glances up at the sound of Matthew's voice, and nods politely at the four of you.

"One second," the trainer says, "Someone will check you in after this round."

"No trouble," J.Seph assures.

The Alakazam wins. The trainer pulls it back, victorious, and turns around presumably to speak to the uniformed staff who've been watching.

But he sees you.

"(Y/N)?"

His stupid face. You can't help but smile. "Seungmin."

The way that Seungmin jets across the battling floor and comes at you, there's a second where you think that he's going to hug you. But that doesn't fit his image, and he knows it, so he stops short just in front of you, surprise painting his boyish features.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks.

"Getting into trouble," you say.

"It's good to see you, the fuck."

He's never going to instigate anything, so you reach out and squeeze his shoulder gently, affectionately.

"It's good to see you, too."

"He's one of the District 9 kids," Matthew says, like he's puzzling it out for himself.

"The one that lost to me," Somin adds.

Seungmin's expression sours when he takes in your companions. "Still with...them, I see."

"They're not so bad," you say.

"Working on your strategy, then?" Somin asks him, smirking.

"Right," Seungmin cedes. "We...had some downtime, and I figured it'd be good to work on my Psychic."

"Friends of yours?" that first uniformed trainer asks, joining the knot of you.

"She is," Seungmin nods toward you.

"Well, any friends of Seungmin's are welcome," the trainer says. "We can take, oh, half an hour break? Another round after, and then debrief?"

"Sounds good, thank you," says Seungmin.

There's more polite weight in his words than you've ever heard from him. Turns out he does know how to use his manners.

As permission is granted, the room relaxes. Staff trainers filter across the arena floor, talking, and some disappear behind the doors or take a seat right on the dirt to chat. It suddenly feels more like a gym, and less like a threat.

"Are you here alone?" you ask.

Seungmin nods. "Solo time. It's weird."

"Thought you were all about Ghost."

"Well, I figured if I master Psychic, I'll have two specialties, which makes me that much better," Seungmin says, with a sneaky grin. "Plus I'll know all the type weaknesses between the two, so I'll never lose."

"We can test that theory," Somin interjects.

He sends her a withering glance. "I'll pass."

"It really is good to see you," you say.

"We were gonna stop by and see if we could battle for a gym badge," Matthew says. "But this is kinda dope, too."

"Where are the others, if you're here?" you ask.

Seungmin sighs. "It was Chan’s idea. We're having some type-specific training time before we get back to the league. I picked Psychic, here I am, battling my way through all these guys about a million times a day."  

It’s a good chance to try and get some perspective on what Felix told you, so you press, "You guys have been in the league?"

He nods. "Nonstop."

"Why?"

"Dunno. New way of life, though," Seungmin says. "I'm here, Jeongin is training Fire down on Cinnabar Island, Hyunjin and Jisung took off to Cerulean Gym like a week ago, and Felix stayed home."

"And the others?"

The expression that crosses his face is familiar and unsettling, an evil hint of a smile. You know nothing good is coming.

"Changbin brought Minho and Chan to train at the Fighting Dojo," Seungmin tells you.

You almost don't want to ask. "Where's that?"

"Oh, here in Saffron. Like half a mile away."

Fuck.

"I'm really happy to see you, but they might not be, by the way," Seungmin adds.

"I don't blame them."

"They can't hold it against you, still," J.Seph says. "C'mon, that's ancient history."

"Not everyone forgets things so quickly," you say.

"Like you," Somin deadpans. "Try to kill a person once, and they never shut up about it."

"So you admit you were trying to kill me."

"Now is not the time for this."

"Hey," Seungmin cuts in, "They might be super pissed, but, like, do you wanna see them anyway?"

"I don't know if I should," you say.

"We prolly shouldn't stay in one place for too long," Matthew says. "If they're really followin' us, we should stay on the move."

"Someone's following you?" Seungmin asks.

"Yeah, it's a long-"

"I don't really care," Seungmin decides.

Still a shitty kid. You missed him.

"We might as well go," Somin says.

"I don't think we should go," Matthew corrects, pointing at himself and then around at Somin and J.Seph.

He's right, you realize. As much as it makes more sense to stick together, lest anything happen while you're separated, there probably isn't any good reason to make the boys reunite with you and Team K at the same time. Especially not with the history you've learned.

"Then you go, and we'll settle where we're staying tonight," J.Seph suggests to you.

"You sure it's okay?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Don't break too many hearts over there," he winks, like the worst older brother in the universe.

"I'm done here in about an hour. Sooner, if we end this break early. Hang out until then, and I'll take you over," Seungmin offers.

He seems awfully insistent for you to go and meet up with his friends, again, and it makes you a little suspicious. Not that there are bad motives, or anything, but maybe that he's got a personal agenda. To make you see Chan again, you suspect, somewhere deep down.

Which is daunting. It would be daunting in any case, but after hearing Felix’s conviction that Chan has been looking for you, you’re more apprehensive than ever. But then, Changbin is there, and Minho...Minho, who you owe the world's biggest apology for putting him in harm's way when he was trying to help you...

You give in. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

-----

Team K are long gone, off to arrange a hotel or something for the night, and Seungmin's training session wrapped up a little while ago, and meanwhile you've had plenty of time to stew over what you're doing.

Here you are, back in the thick of it, in every which way. Back to all the ghosts of your past.

"We might have to sneak in," Seungmin says, as the two of you approach the sprawling traditional architecture complex that makes up the unofficial Fighting type gym.

You're suspicious. "Why?"

"Because they don't let people in without appointments, and even though they've met me before, they haven't met you," he reasons.

"So make an appointment."

"And," he adds, "If the guys see you before you see them, they might just take off."

That is very stupid and very possible.

"Fine."

Sneaking in, however, turns out to be easy.

The gates are unlocked, and you walk right in. The next door that you meet is also propped open, and the next after that, and the one singular trainer who sees you just waves merrily and continues on their way.

"Cocky bastards," Seungmin mutters. "What, don't need locks if your fists are hard enough?"

"Don't talk shit on their turf!"

"As if they care."

A few rooms in, you find what you're looking for.

A battle arena, not unlike the one in the official gym. But this one is partially underground; you and Seungmin emerge on a catwalk that runs around the perimeter of the arena space, and the actual floor is about twenty feet below.

That means you're out of sight, though, which proves helpful because the battle taking place down below is also exactly what you're looking for.

Ages ago, lifetimes ago, at the tournament where you'd met Team K again, you'd wondered out loud what Minho was doing with a Fighting type Hitmonlee. You'd been told to ask Changbin. You have more questions for Changbin, now, because it seems that lots of them have Fighting types.

The Pokemon in the ring are that Hitmonlee and a Hitmonchan, and the trainers are Minho and Chan.

Changbin stands on the sidelines, barking orders and advice and calling moves. There are other staff around, people in tan-colored shirts, but even these people whose job it is to train Fighting type can't stand up to Changbin's presence and - mostly - his loud voice.

"You call that a fuckin' High Jump Kick?!"

"I'm sorry!" Minho snarls back.

Hitmonlee ducks as Hitmonchan comes in with a new attack, flames up its strong bulbous fists, and none of that doesn't seem to satisfy Changbin.

"Chan, bitch, I keep telling you, if you lean that hard on Fire moves, you'll never fuckin'-"

"Quit backseat driving!" Chan snaps.

The worse part about it is the fact that you know for certain, despite the way they're talking to each other and carrying on, the three of them are having immeasurable amounts of fun.

Changbin is not deterred. "Look, just try-"

He's cut off by Hitmonchan catching Hitmonlee's attack and stopping the fight completely, just one Pokemon's strong leg held aloft by the other's strong arms. A stalemate.

"Oh. Ah."

"Can we call it?" Minho asks, panting like he's the one giving it his all.

"I guess," Changbin grumbles.

"Thank you. Fucker."

"But you're a couple of pansy-ass-"

"It's about time to wrap up, anyway," one of the staff members interrupts, before more insults are thrown.

"Besides," another staff adds. "We have company."

They jerk a thumb up at the catwalk, where you and Seungmin lean against the thick railing that rings the platform. Seungmin waves, and you freeze.

To your credit, Chan freezes, too. His Pokeball falls right out of his hand and clunks awkwardly onto the floor. Minho calls back Hitmonlee and stalks away, out of sight. And Changbin lights up like a firework.

"No fuckin' way!"

Changbin opens his arms like he expects you to drop the two stories right into them, and honestly, you're tempted.

But to spare yourself (and him) the broken bones, you just go for the stairs, taking them at a breakneck pace, skipping as many as you can without tripping. You're fully aware how silly you look, running to him, someone who you knew for (as you keep having to remind yourself) only a short while, a couple of weeks. You also don't care.

Loving harder is part of this whole deal. You missed him, and now you don't have to miss him anymore.

"I can't believe you - what are you doing here?" Changbin is asking, incredulous, as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

"Trying to fix things," you say.

His arms are still held open, patient and welcoming, and you can't help the way you run forward and don't stop until you're nestled against him, head at the crook of his neck and his strong arms around you. You've never hugged Changbin before, but it feels like you've done it a hundred times. He pulls you back to hold you at arm's length, just to look at you.

"Fuck, I didn't think you'd be back," he grins.

"I couldn't stay away," you reply.

Changbin just laughs, and lets you go gently.

Seungmin has made it down to the arena level, by this point, and you glance over to see him hanging over Chan's shoulder, looking more amused than he has any right to. Chan still hasn't moved, watching you with a slightly dazed look in his eye, like he's not sure what he's supposed to be seeing.

You charge on, giving him another moment to collect himself, and shoving Changbin lightly on the arm with a, "Look at you, calling the shots out here."

"They looked pretty good, huh?" Changbin says, with some of his finest bluster. "All my idea."

"What part?" you ask, amused.

"Them getting these Pokemon."

"You wanna spread the glory of training Fighting?" you tease.

"Nah, it's all for the bit," Changbin says.

Something clicks into place, and you cough out a laugh. "Wait - because - Hitmonchan?"

"Hitmonchan," Changbin agrees. "And Hitmonlee, as in Lee Minho. Funny, right?"

Well, mark that down as another person's last name you're learning way too late.

"It's so dumb!" you protest.

"That's what's great about it."

You really did miss him.

Figuring that there's no way to avoid it forever, you turn around fully to face Chan. He's stiffened up, shrugged Seungmin off his back and picked the Pokeball off the ground.

"Hi, Chan."

"Hi," he answers.

"How have you been?"

"Fine. I'm not about to make smalltalk with you," he says flatly.

"Then I'll cut the bullshit. I'm sorry, Chan."

"Sorry for what?" he asks. "Sorry for teaming up with your own enemies and putting the lives of thousands of people in danger because you couldn't control yourself?"

He's lashing out because he feels wronged, and you fully know that, but it still stings.

"For leaving without telling you, yes. For disappearing."

"You could have come back."

"I couldn't. You know I couldn't."

"You can do whatever you want. You make that perfectly clear," he snaps. "Which means you didn't want to come back."

"Chan, I'm sorry for-"

"For almost getting Jeongin killed, maybe?"

"For that, and-"

Chan holds your gaze coldly. "Or maybe for fucking Jisung and Hyunjin, when I thought...I thought maybe..."

Next to him, Seungmin winces.

"That's enough of that shit," Changbin cuts in firmly.

"Minho had the right idea getting the hell out of dodge, I can't do this," Chan says.

He turns, then, and walks away. It's not smart to follow him. It won't fix anything, mostly because he's asking you to apologize for things that you're not sorry for doing.

"You betrayed us," Chan says, pausing in the doorway. "We trusted you and you left. That's not what you do when you're on a team."

The heavy door into the next section of the gym slams behind him.

Changbin looks at you, crestfallen. "He doesn't mean all that."

"Yeah, he does," you say grimly.

"He'll calm down, though, and he'll talk to you for real. Minho, too, I'm sure."

"Don't push them. I get it."

It's just as well that you get a message then, telling you that Team K are outside the Dojo to collect you. A good buffer, a perfect escape right as things are getting messy.

"I should go," you say.

"You just got here," Changbin whines.

"And I should go."

"Don't make us wait around for you again. We'll miss you too much."

"I miss you guys too," you say, and your throat is tight as you do.

You let him get one good hug in, a tight squeeze that nearly knocks the wind out of you, and then you head for the exit again.

"Tell Chan I'm sorry, again. And Minho, too," you say, as you climb the stairs.

Changbin just watches, eyes sober. "They'll come around."

"I know they will. Bye, Changbin."

-----

Sliding into your seat in that SUV has never been more difficult than it is in this moment. There's an urge in your chest, not logical or practical but very much real, to go back in there and hold Chan and Minho close, to make them understand how much you care, how sorry you are. To crush them with how sorry you are, make them feel secure in a hug like Changbin can do.

That's not going to happen, though.

If they forgive you, someday, that'll be on their time.

"Did you find somewhere?" you ask Somin softly.

She hums, affirmative. "A pension. Kind of out of the way, in the next town."

"We thought you'd want some distance. Seems like that was a good call, huh?" Matthew says.

"It's harder to follow us out there, too," J.Seph adds. "If anyone is still following."

You nod. "Good thinking."

"I take it things didn't go well?" Somin asks.

"Not really. It's okay, though."

"If they're your friends, they'll come around," says J.Seph.

"It's my fault they're upset. They'll figure out if they want to make up or not, eventually," you say. "It's fine. I just want to go to bed."

The car ride isn't long.

This pension is in another little town, a misty and underdeveloped place with a crooked sign that you pass on the way in, reading Lavender Town. A huge tower looms over the small buildings that comprise the town proper, lit up but only partially.

"I don't think I like it here," you say.

"It was cheap," J.Seph dismisses.

"We'll be okay for a night," Matthew agrees.

It looks cheap, when you pull up to the tiny vacation rental home. Cozy, sure, but a little run-down, ivy growing up the wooden siding and overgrown plants in the front yard.

And there are only two bedrooms, when you get inside.

"Split up boys and girls?" Matthew suggests.

"You just don't want to room with me because of that time with the mask packs," Somin says.

"Damn right."

"Whatever option gets me to sleep faster," you say.

So boys and girls it is.

Each room only has one bed, because of course it does. On the one night you would really rather be alone, to cry, maybe, or at least to feel sorry for yourself, you have to be right up in someone else's business. And of course, that someone is Somin.

Matthew or J.Seph would leave you alone if you asked. Not her.

Somin bothers you right away.

You've both showered, and gotten into pajamas. She stands at the door, hanging up clothes on rack there, and you're under the covers, ready to roll over and not move for the next twelve hours, when she speaks.

"I know how you feel, you know."

"That's nice," you say, dismissive.

"I know how your friends feel, too," she says.

"Your whole career is self-interest and double-crossing, that doesn't surprise me," you mutter.

Somin scoffs. "You forget that the last person who I trusted wholeheartedly ended up leaving me, too."

"You trust people?" you ask, annoyed, sitting up again.

She matches your tone. "I did, once. And look where that's gotten us."

"You don't trust the guys, then?"

"Of course, I do. But they've known each other much longer than they've known me. It's different. But with her..."

Jiwoo. She means Jiwoo.

"I forgot," you say, softening again.

You forgot that Jiwoo isn't just someone who walked out of your life, whose new status in life is heartbreaking to you. You forgot, despite everything, that Team K lost her too.

"We really weren't close. Not like you were with her," Somin admits.

"That doesn't mean she didn't matter to you."

"I know that!" she snaps. "I know. We weren't sisters, or anything frivolous like that, but we were teammates. Friends, I think. I would have helped her with anything, done whatever she needed. And she still left."

"Yeah."

"So please believe me when I say that I know how your Channie feels, alright? I understand."

Her voice is constricted. It's the most emotion you've ever seen from Somin that's not anger.

"I'm...I know it doesn't help, but I'm sorry," you say.

"No," Somin brushes it off, "No, I just...wanted you to know. That I understand both sides. But it's not the same. Jiwoo and I were coworkers, cordial but trusting. You and Chan...it was different, wasn't it?"

"It was," you say.

She smiles humorlessly. "I thought so."

"But I mean..." you hesitate. "I've known you and the guys much longer than I ever knew him. If we're talking pound for pound, instance for instance, we're closer."

"All of us," she clarifies.

For once, you are brave. "And you and me."

Somin blinks at you. "Me and you?"

"We're close, aren't we?"

"I guess we are," she says, as if she hasn't thought about it.

"I haven't had that many close girl friends since I was a kid," you say. "I have some, of course. But I haven't had one good, close friend like that in a long time."

"I don't know that I ever did."

You stand up, leaving the warmth of the bed to go over to where Somin is still lingering by the door. "You should try it."

"Maybe I will."

The path from there, standing in front of one of the most perplexing people you've ever known, to kissing her, is hazy, but you traverse it nonetheless.

Because here you are, with Somin's body against you, her hair soft in your hand as you guide her, sucking her bottom lip into your mouth as she tugs on your clothes like she thinks you're going to leave if she's not clawing you ever closer.

"Sorry," she murmurs, "I don't think this is what friends do."

"It can be," you answer.

She hums. "Oh?"

"What's a little fun, between friends?"

She seems to take your words to heart, because she pressed another filthy, tongue-filled kiss to your waiting mouth before she drops to your throat, and bites. You yelp at the sensation, pinching at her side as if to get revenge, and she laughs.

"Should I stop?" Somin asks, her voice a low purr that sets your skin on fire. "I know you like Chan, I would hate to confuse things further."

Why does she keep bringing up Chan? Why can't she just let that go? Why can't everyone get over what happened?

Why can't you?

"I like Chan. And I like you, and I don't think we should stop this," you say, breathless, "But fuck...I feel like you need to know. I have to tell you. As a teenager, that whole time, I was always-"

"A little bit in love with Jiwoo." Somin finishes. "Yes."

Exactly the same, the two of you.

"I'm glad we met," Somin says, mouth hot against your ear.

You have to laugh at that. "Me too."

"And I'm glad that you think being friends, and having a little fun, are not mutually exclusive."

Somin, with her sharp feline eyes and her delicate face, her body in her skimpy nightshirt and shorts, her mouth still attached to the pulse point under your ear, could probably make you agree to anything right about now.

You don't know how far you would go with Somin. Or if it would change anything between you, despite what you've both said.

You don't find out.

There's a knock on the door, right beside the two of you tangled up together, and the loud sound startles you both so much that Somin jumps, her head knocking your chin and your arm crashing against the wall.

Luckily, you've moved far enough apart by the time the door opens.

"Hey," says Matthew, peering in, sleep-rumpled and totally shirtless. "Bad news. We got company."

"KeyCorp?" you ask, all attempts at having some fun forgotten.

"Not yet, but I think - well. I'll let them tell ya."

He heads back down the little hallway, and you follow, annoyed.

"What's that supposed to - oh."

The house is small, so you've already reached the living space and had your question answered.

Standing there uncertainly, still in their clothes from the day of training but now much dirtier, there they are. Minho, Seungmin, Changbin, and Chan.

"Well, hello," says Somin, far more cordial than you would have expected.

Changbin and Seungmin greet her back. Minho simply stands with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. And Chan...is looking very unsubtly back and forth between Matthew, who is mostly undressed, and you...you, with the brand-new hickey that you can now feel absolutely throbbing on the side of your neck.

Oh, God, he probably thinks-

“How’d you find us?” Matthew asks.

Seungmin, for his part, grins. “I had Gastly track you.”

Of fucking course he did.

“Then why are you here?”

"We got run out of the Fighting Dojo," Seungmin says.

"Pardon?" Somin asks, nonplussed.

"A bunch of fuckin' narcs in gold outfits came in and told us the place was shut down, and kicked us out," Changbin says. "Some of the staff put up a fight and they got straight-up arrested."

"Gold outfits?" you repeat.

"KeyCorp. They're really followin' us," Matthew says.

Seungmin makes a sound of disgust. "Their leader was this really bitchy girl - dressed in all teal, hair like a skunk..."

Somin wilts. "They sent her?"

"Then they're serious," says Matthew. "Shit."

"They sent Jiwoo?" you ask, praying you're wrong.

But of course, Somin nods. "If they sent her, they mean business. She has much more power in the hierarchy than the kind of grunts who came for our Pokemon last time."

"These people are following you?" Minho asks.

It's the first time he's spoken, and it's cutting.

"Yes," says Somin.

Minho turns his intense blank-eyed stare on you. "Then it's your fucking fault, again?"

"My fault?" you balk.

"Like every other fucking piece of bad luck that comes our way, yeah! Your fault!"

"Dude," Changbin says, "Calm down-"

"Fuck, no! If she didn't come track us down, these people wouldn't be after us, right now!" Minho snarls.

"Look, if we all stay here, we're easy prey," interjects J.Seph, joining the lot of you in the living room. "We have to move, now."

"Move where?" Chan rasps.

He's looking only at J.Seph, eyes glued to him with an intensity that suggests he'll die if he looks at you, or Somin, or Matthew.

"We need somewhere with one entrance, that's easy to defend, and harder to destroy than a wooden house," J.Seph says.

You have the answer immediately. "The tower."

"That's a bad idea," says Seungmin.

"We don't have a choice. We have to go somewhere," says Somin.

She's already heading for the door, undoubtedly to check the perimeter before everyone charges out together. There's no one on the other side, once she gets it open, but in the distance, there's a flash of color, a shape, high above the trees.

Brown. Flying.

Luckily, you're not the only one who sees it.

"Is that Fearow?" Somin asks.

You don't trust your mouth. You just nod.

"The tower, then."

"I'm telling you, we don't want to go there," Seungmin says.

"Look, you're either comin' with, or you're dealing with these people that we know about and you don't, without us," says Matthew.

You and Team K hadn't even unpacked the car aside from your change of clothes, so sure that you would only be sleeping here and then moving on the morning, and that's all to your advantage. No wasted time repacking, no having to leave crucial things behind.

"I'll stash the car somewhere off the road so they can't find it, and meet you at the tower," says Somin.

"Take Seph. I'll go with these guys," Matthew says.

"That leaves the rest of us on foot," says Changbin.

You glance at Matthew, and at Chan.

"On foot, then," you say. "Let's hurry."

-----

The tower is much worse up close.

You understand why Seungmin insisted it was a bad idea to come here, the closer you get. It's several stories tall, sided with plate metal, reflecting every dim glow of the town in the distance, and there are two eerie projecting pieces on the sides and one on top that look like horns. Cartoonish, maybe, but unsettling, in the dark like this. Scary.

But you think you're right, too. It'll be easy to defend, once you're inside.

And if something happens to this decrepit old building, well. Much less your fault than if you destroy the rental.

Despite being the sole voice of dissent, Seungmin is the first one inside.

"Oh, the vibes are awful," he reports, from inside the creaky doors.

Changbin crosses his arms over his chest, as if to ward off the vibes. "Then why do you sound so happy?"

"Dunno."

"Y'all gotta hurry," Matthew says, following Seungmin inside. "If they catch us off guard out here we're toast."

The vibes are indeed awful.

You get the feeling that this is an old, old building. And you've been in more than your share of old buildings lately. The walls are age-stained, peeling wallpaper and gaps in the crown molding. Antique furniture, so old that it's crumbling to bits, sits abandoned. You can barely make out the shape of several large chandeliers, hanging down the length of the room.

"I would be careful," says Seungmin, as everyone joins him. "I don't think the floors are very strong."

"What makes you say that?" asks Chan, from the back of the group.

He points into the darkness. "That."

You see what Seungmin sees, after a second.

There's a hole in the floor. There's a hole in the ceiling, too, like something - or someone - fell through the levels of the tower all at once and ended up in the basement.

"Oh," says Changbin, uncertain.

"Scared?" asks Matthew.

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Fuck yeah."

"That makes three of us," Chan murmurs.

"What even is this place?" you wonder.

Seungmin walks gingerly near the edge of the hole. "Some of the gym staff were talking about it. I guess it used to be used for something? People are afraid to come in, so no one really knows anymore."

"Well, it's creeping me out."

"I bet people died here," says Minho.

Seungmin grins at him. "I bet-"

He stops, silent, at the sound of footsteps. Outside, on the dirt path that leads up to the tower. You watch as Minho's hand slips into his jacket pocket, and as Chan goes for his own Pokeballs in his backpack, before a figure stops at the door.

It's just Somin.

"Found you," she says, peering into the darkness.

J.Seph is right behind her, and the two of them come into the building after you. Nothing left to do now but wait.

"Hey, d'you think people died here?" Minho asks her.

"Probably," she says coolly. "You'll be next if you don't mind your manners."

The tower door chooses that moment to slam shut.

Screaming fills the room, and as Somin lights up the flashlight she'd brought with, like a practical adult, you can see who it is: Matthew, Changbin, and Chan, because of course.

"Shut up!" you hiss.

"Doors are not fuckin' supposed to do that!" Changbin insists.

It's not like you're not scared, yourself. On the contrary, you find yourself shifting closer to J.Seph, who's still just standing there calmly, wishing you could siphon his courage. Seungmin's eyes are fixed on a spot right beside the closed door, and the slowest smirk is spreading across his face.

"Are you a Gastly or a Haunter?" he asks.

There's a faint chuckle from nowhere, a gasping inhuman laugh, and then a pair of enormous white eyes materialize on that same spot.

"A Haunter."

"How-" Chan clutches at his chest, "How did you know-?"

"You think I don't know when there's Ghost types?" Seungmin says.

"Jesus fuck," Matthew swears.

"Hey, some people say Ghost types are just Pokemon that died, so in a way, you're right," Seungmin tells Minho.

"That doesn't make it better at all!" Changbin groans.

You're not bothered by the Ghost Pokemon here. There are Pokemon all over, and Ghost types are just another type, theories be damned. It's the reason that the Haunter felt the need to slam the door that concerns you.

Because not a moment later, there's a pop outside.

A window shatters. A dull thud.

Somin swings the flashlight around, until she spots it: a pitted hole in the wall, not far from where she's standing.

A bullet hole.

"Go," Somin urges. "In, farther, now-"

"Watch the floor," Seungmin yelps as he takes off.

Edging your way around the jagged opening in the floor, you keep your eyes on the faint outline of Seungmin as he heads towards the stairs on the far side of the room.

There's no way out if you go up, but maybe-

The door slams open again, so hard that the whole structure rattles, the chandeliers swaying above your head.

"That was a warning shot. Don't make me do it again."

"Fuck," mutters J.Seph, just behind you.

You know what he means.

That's Jiwoo's voice. Her accent thinner and less noticeable after all these years, but it’s her. You could never forget.

A man comes in first, and then another man, and a few more people, all dressed in the gold and black uniforms that the other KeyCorp security had worn. Some of them have Pokeballs in hand, but some of them have weapons. You don't know if you've ever seen a gun in person before, unsheathed and at the ready.

When Jiwoo comes in, it's like your mind goes to static.

She's dressed in a power suit, a blazer and shorts in a deep maroon color, and her hair is still dyed in streaks of black and white. Her dark eyes are ringed in makeup, the way she always liked it, but her stance is a hundred times as confident as it ever was when you knew her.

It's obvious that she's grown since then. So have you.

"Hi, (Y/N)," she says, voice deep and calm, just the same. "I have to say, you keep pretty interesting company these days."

You can't say anything. You just look at her.

"I mean, who would have thought? My old team?" she tuts. "And these new guys, too. They have a lot of cool tricks up their sleeves, if their files are correct."

"What's the deal, here?" Minho asks boldly.

"The deal is that interesting assets join KeyCorp, no questions asked," Jiwoo says.

"And we're interesting assets?"

"You are," Jiwoo nods. "You, your Pokemon, these degenerates..."

She gestures at Team K. Somin bristles.

Matthew makes a little noise of disbelief. "Woo, you can't fuckin'-"

"I can," Jiwoo interrupts smoothly. "So let me tell you how this is going to go. You all are going to come with me, and we're going to find a place for you in KeyCorp."

"Or?" Chan challenges.

"Or, nothing. There's no other option. You're coming with me."

She has all the strength she would need to make a threat. Come with, or die. Or something of that sort. But she's not doing it.

You wonder why.

"No," says Somin.

"I have to agree, no fucking way," says Minho.

Jiwoo sighs. "That's the wrong answer."

Seungmin is slowly, slowly ascending the stairs, and Changbin is right behind him. You think they could probably get away, but the rest of you are right out in the open. You and J.Seph are the closest to Jiwoo. But you're also some of the people who could distract her best.

"I don't see why you need all of them," you say.

"They're my directive right now. I follow instructions," she replies.

It's the stupidest possible thing to say, but you say it. "You've wanted me this whole time, haven't you? Since that first tournament in Azalea City? Take me, then."

It's Changbin who yells, "Don't-"

"I'm making you a deal," you interrupt. "Take it or leave it."

Jiwoo is actually struck speechless, looking at you as if she's not quite sure if you're serious.

"Me, or no one," you say.

You go to take a step toward her, to show that you're not bluffing, and that's where everything goes wrong.

You stumble.

In your haste, at some point during the journey, you didn't close your bag all the way.

Your Pokeballs spill out.

One of them falls right on the release button, and there she is, in the middle of this mess. Your baby.

You yelp, "Oddish, don't-"

"Catch it," Jiwoo orders, waving one of her henchmen forward.

No.

Frightened and in the dark, your Pokemon takes off, squealing. You dive after her.

Behind you, another flash of light, a Pokemon being released, and you hear the earsplitting bark of Chan's Arcanine. The building tremors again with the force of it.

"You're going to regret that," Jiwoo spits. "Do what you have to."

It all happens so fast that you don't have time to react.

One instant, you're chasing Oddish, her little leaves just under your hands. Another pop of what you now know is gunfire rings out. The loud creeeeeak and snap of wood letting go.

Somin screams something. Chan screams something. You look in the direction of Arcanine's fire, and something gold reflects over your head.

And then you don't remember anything at all.

#pokemon au 😈 #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #kard fanfic #kard fanfiction #kard imagines #kard scenarios #bang chan fanfic #stray kids bang chan fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

[aces-and-angels]

wip wednesday

ty @cadybear420 for the tag 🖤

this is an excerpt for into the windverse, set several years in the past when agnes/jina decide to take the leap and start their own firm together-- it is the roughest of drafts, but ya gotta start somewhere lmaoo

if you see this and have something to share- consider yourself tagged

---

25 years ago… 

“This the place?”  

“It is according to the realtor.” 

“It’s…” Jina struggles to find a gentle way to phrase her thoughts, partly distracted by the itch in her nose from all the dust.

“Small. I know,” Agnes states without hesitation, turning to her former college roommate turned business partner. She offers a hopeful grin. “Just means there’s more room for us to grow, right?”

“Or it means it’ll be that much easier to shut this place down.” Jina eyes the hairline cracks zigzagging across the ceiling- a deep regret settling in her stomach at their decision to be frugal with their new office space. What’s a few dollars saved really worth if the roof collapses in on itself from water damage? Her critical assessment of the building’s structural integrity is interrupted with a hard shove. “Ow- what was that for?” 

“Your face.”

“What face?”

Agnes smooths out Jina’s frown with her thumbs. “That one.” She snickers as Jina swats her hands away. “Enough with the doom and gloom already. It’s muddying your aura.” 

She casts a sidelong look, her voice flat and dripping with sarcasm. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to ruin your day with a muddy aura.” 

“I’m serious- we’re founders now! How’s it gonna look to our employees if all we do is sulk all day?”

“Agnes- we don’t have any employees to sulk in front of.”

“Yet,” she hums.

“We barely have enough room for both our desks.”

Agnes drapes an arm over Jina’s shoulder, pulling her flush to her side whilst ignoring her half-hearted grumbles. “Close your eyes. Visualize with me for a second.”

Jina lets out an unflattering snort. “You want me to visualize with my eyes closed?” 

Agnes only tightens her grip. “Just do it.” 

“Fine,” she sighs, her eyes slipping shut. “Now what?” 

“Tell me what you see.”

“Nothing. My eyes are closed.” Agnes pinches her arm. “Ow- you asked!”

“As usual, it’s up to me to get the ball rolling,” she laments, unable to suppress the twitch in the corner of her mouth. “I see us stepping through revolving doors into a grand lobby. High ceilings… turnstiles leading to the elevators...”

Jina whistles lowly. “Fancy.”

“I haven’t even gotten to the best part,” Agnes beams. “Picture this: lush, cascading vertical gardens. A beautiful harmony of architecture, technology, and nature. First of its kind in Manhattan.” 

“You have a lot of optimism for someone who specializes in bankruptcy.” 

“It’s not optimism I have, Ji. It’s us.” 

---

#playchoices #choices #wip wednesday #park & davis #jina davis #agnes park #into the windverse #laws of attraction #wip

[134340am]

you’ve seen more than your fair share of flower bouquets in your time as the number two hero’s receptionist. there are deliveries everyday, if not every other day. bright, spring bouquets from families he’s saved; tons of roses from adoring fans; sunflowers (his favourite) from random civilians just passing by—you’ve seen it all.

so it comes as no surprise when yet another bouquet shows up for him around lunchtime: tulips, a cheery canary yellow, mellowed out by dots of baby breaths and wrapped with a big ribbon. you smell them before you see them, citrus-like and fresh, and you receive the large bouquet over the counter with a fair bit of difficulty. 

“thank you, akari-san.” you bow to the kind but quiet delivery man that you’ve come to see often. “hawks is out for lunch right now, but i’ll put this in his office.”

“hawks?” akari stops mid-adjustment of his worn cap. “the bouquet’s for you, y/n-san. check the tag.”

your heart stops. you flip the tag around.

there, embossed neatly on heavyweight cream paper in a rich gold, was indeed your name. you thank akari quickly, heat crawling up your neck. who could have sent this? this was the first time you’ve ever gotten flowers at work; it seemed almost too good to be true for this beautiful (and expensive) bouquet to be yours. could it have been a mistake? was this meant for someone in the building next to yours? 

the squeak of the turnstile and a familiar tune being whistled alerts you of hawks’ return from lunch. your heart seizes at the sight of his wind-swept hair and his jacket hanging loosely over his forearm, revealing the toned expanse of his chest. 

“for you,” he sings, setting a petite cake box down on your desk. the delicate print on the side had your eyes widening as you instantly recognise the famous french bakery from one town over.

“hawks-san,” you start, panicking now. “i— thank you so much, but i can’t accept this—”

“for you,” hawks repeats, tone even and laced with finality. he casts an appreciative glance at the bouquet of tulips still in your arms, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “for being the best receptionist i could ask for.” 

a/n: part of my receptionist!au (kinda), more here : ) 

#im still not showing up in the tags (sobs) so i'm just gonna tag this for bookmarking and filtering #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #yuna writes

[tripodturnstile]

waist height gates barirer from RS Security Co., Ltd(www.szrssecurity.com) Ideal for all kinds of public places that need organized passage of pedestrians, such as picturesque spots, exhibit halls, movie theaters, docks, train stations, bus stations and other locations that need ticket confirmation; locations that need authorized entry such as factory attendance, canteen consumption, golf courses, regular monthly card leisure centers, etc; anti-static control locations of electronic factories, systems that need strict security steps such as face acknowledgment and fingerprint acknowledgment. RS Security Co., Ltd mainly produces, develops and sells access control items, such as waist height turnstile gate, train flap turnstiles gate, servo motor swing gates gate, translation turnstile barirer, optical turnstile door, full height turnstile door, half high turnstile barirer, fastlane turnstiles gate and other channel gates door products, and parking barrier, recognition camera, rising bollard, roadway blockers tripod gates barirer Integrated electronic tickets, gain access to control and presence, club consumption/catering, anti-static, finger print, palm print, face recognition, iris recognition Integrated application of other series of items; full stainless steel frame structure, Taibang motor, independently developed and produced motion; one-way/two-way gates gate/ swipe to launch the lever button and the upper lever is optional, with Counting function can realize RS485 direct interaction with the computer system; three arms gates barirer prompts and instructions and alarm prompts; automated fall of the pole when power is off and manual fall The pole is optional, and it gets the switch signal to open gates door; it can be equipped with a card reading control part, and multiple systems can be connected to the network; it can be equipped with magnetic card and proximity card combination methods; it can be ordered according to various practical requirements. Do. A completely rainproof box made from alloy aluminum or stainless-steel, compared to the train flap gates barirer dc brushless swing turnstile gate and other pedestrian passage devices, three arms turnstiles door are more cost-effective. It has a customized installation user interface (such as card reader, indication light setup, etc) to guarantee that the system integrator's control gates barirer devices is simple and practical to set up. The motion of the three-stick turnstile barirer device has actually an instantly changed hydraulic shock absorber. When utilizing the three-stick gates barirer operation, the sound is extremely small and silent. Impact, turnstile door bar automatically decelerates back to center. The surface of the movement is plated with yellow dichromate. Can be set with gates door device control, one or two direction control (set by user). The base is repaired with growth bolts.

#tripod turnstiles barrier #tripod access control #wing gate #building site turnstile #security solutions turnstiles #turnstile gate with card reader #office turnstile

[stonedregulus]

should i be working on a new fic? no. am i working on a new fic? yes.

James is rushing. He has less than two minutes to get onto the train and if he misses it he’ll be late to pick up his son. He doesn’t even want to think about what Lily will say if he’s late for the third time in one week. It isn’t that he’s intentionally trying to be an asshole–his boss keeps walking up to his office with five minutes left in the business day to have a chat about accounts, which he could have done at literally any other point in the day. So, instead of leaving promptly at five, James hasn’t been able to get out of the building until a quarter til six. He had to run twelve blocks to the train station in less than fifteen minutes, all while fighting everyone else trying to get home from work, plus the godforsaken tourists who insisted on stopping in the middle of the sidewalk just to stare at buildings for absolutely no reason. Fuck his boss. Fuck the tourists. Fuck this city. Fuck Lily for divorcing him and coming up with this asinine custody arrangement.  He scans his card, but of course, the turnstile is stuck. He prays for his new suit to stay intact as he jumps it, much to the disapproving look of the old woman staring at him like he’s got three heads or something. Fuck off, old lady.

#banana gate 2022 #jegulus #starchaser #wip

[raccoon-writings]

The Effect of Cubicles  an essay about my chemical romances song cubicles:

My Chemical Romance released I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love in 2002. It’s a messy yet passionate start to kick off their catalog of concept albums. Lyrically, Bullets reads like an anthology. Telling tales of two lovers, addicted and infected, by pills and vampires, until death do them part when they are shot dead. It has a variety of stories and goes through many different moods. All set in a punk rock, basement recorded world.

---

Because of its variety, it's not uncommon to hear any of the songs off it as someone’s favorite My Chemical Romance song. Though one song always sparks controversy- “Cubicles.” It has a polarizing reputation, with one side loving its embrace of loneliness and the path to get there. The other side only hearing overdone emo whining.

The album begins with “Romance,” an acoustic guitar intro. From there, the second song builds with sharp distorted electric guitar and classic punk drumming, taking us into the terrorized, angry heart of the album. The records A-side follows two lovers fighting to stay alive in a world of vampires while learning to trust each other. “Drowning Lessons” shows these lovers as one kills the other time and time again. When we reach the end of the A-side we get the first song solely about this rough sketch of a main character, “Headfirst for Halos.”

Set with high pace anger and poignant quiet sections, the album has a consistent drama. Even though most songs are different in how they express that drama, the whole picture stays cohesive with its intensity. Two songs, “Early Sunsets Over Monroeville'' and “Demolition Lovers,” travel through crescendos that build slowly throughout the entire song. While others like “Our Lady of Sorrows” and “Headfirst for Halos” stay at an in-your-face tempo. The individual stories in each song are fully committed to. That consistent intensity is what makes Bullets work so well.

When the listener reaches the B-side, they find not another short story, but “Skylines and Turnstiles.” It’s about 9/11. It’s an offering of consolation with depictions of what singer, Gerard Way, saw that day. It's the only other song set unarguably in the real world. Yet it still fits it nicely into the album by staying with the drama. Additionally, its placement as the first B-side recognizes how different the story being told is compared to the others. It’s a thematic break, a checkpoint. The listener has to manually flip over the record and replace the needle to get to it.

After two more fiction-based songs, we now reach “Cubicles.” Placed right after one of the most genuinely happy songs, and right before on the most storybook intense songs. It’s the second to last song on the album. “Cubicles” is about the unnoticed writer and his crush. Detailing an office romance that never was, as the love interest switched jobs before the character has the courage to make a move. Its stakes are shockingly low as Way details photocopying and sterile views. Similar to the other two crescendoing songs, it too builds into a declaration of wanting to die alone.

“Cubicles” presents the listener with another tonal shift. It disrupts the onslaught of fantasy to show a dull reality. “Cubicles” romance is already on a small scale and when compared to the other songs, it’s almost comical. After it establishes itself as being lower stakes, the statement piece kicks in, “I think I’m gonna die alone.” It inflates itself by claiming that it is as big as the others. The other crescendoing songs had the stakes to pull this off, “Cubicles” doesn’t. It values this feeling, this longing and awkward pain, on the same level as loss and addiction. But maybe that’s part of the point.

The character realizes at the end of the song that these little life moments can be pieced together to be this overwhelming thing that takes over his life. He’s not just speaking about the one crush, it’s the many others that have also been replaced. While a lot of the verse lyrics focus on the daydreams of the writer, the chorus emphasizes what took away the love interest. It’s a short chorus with a subtle message about their non-stop corporate workplace. The three-by-four workers are constantly being replaced creating this emotional hole. “It happens all the time.” As Alice Maney puts it,

“Like to the system, everyone is just a cog in the machine, but for the people working in the system it matters who’s next to them, they create social connections that get ripped away and replaced.”

This gives the song more depth. It’s not just about insignificant crushes, it’s about the overarching nature of his workplace. It’s able to take something small and see the connections to the rest of his life.

Let’s look at Bullets without Cubicles for a minute. This makes nearly every song have a fictional or life threatening story to them. All of the songs are so saturated in theatrics that at some point it can become a blur. The intensity solidifies its identity but it also makes this high point of tension flat line.. There’s nothing to shock the listener back.

“Cubicles” shatters that and makes it bigger. Theatrical and down to earth. It’s the only honest song about a boring life. Where the romances aren’t star-crossed, they’re watercooler. Where they don’t end with being shot in the desert, they’re constantly ending when people quit and are replaced. It makes the album theatrical and down to earth.

“[It’s like] wanting romance and a real connection but everyone sucks and nothing ever works out so you just kill that dream but doing so you kill a large part of yourself and living doesn’t feel worth it anymore- and then it kicks into “Demolition Lovers”.”

Says Summer Johnson.

And yet these huge revelations about the character can be born out of his mundane job. Only then does the song aggregate into a complicated tragedy. We see a normal man descend into loneliness. This carries us into the grand finale of the album, a six minute epic where the lovers are murdered once again. “Cubicles”  amplifies the climax creating a certain kind of finality to the deaths that can’t be achieved without it. It breaks the cycle to prepare the listener for this instead of just having the last song glaze over.

“Cubicles” is a break from all of the fiction to hear about the guy who might as well be daydreaming the whole album. In comparison it might feel whiny but it breaks up the album to re-engage the listener before sending them off to the last song. It's not the most well-crafted My Chemical Romance song but it doesn’t have to be for its place on Bullets to be undeniable.

a/n: thank you for reading! quotes by me friendz <33

#my chemical romance #mcr bullets #mcr #my chem #i brought you my bullets you brought me your love #gerard way #frank iero #ray toro #mikey way #mcr essay #i love my frenz

[szrssecuritytripodturnstile]

dc brushless speedlane gates gate also called gain access to swing turnstile gate, which comes from the gain access to control system, is among the crucial components of contemporary entryway and exit control. The door wings are driven by the control system and open and close instantly. The operating mode can be picked through shows settings: As quickly as it is confirmed that the individual going into is authorized, the door wings open automatically. It closes after a hold-up, and the delay time is adjustable. Typical servo motor speedlane turnstiles door are divided into scissor doors (train flap turnstiles gate) and swing doors. (1) Scissor doors are frequently used in rail transit, and common scissor doors are mainly utilized in trains and other places. The door wings extend from the inside of the box, which can efficiently seal the passage and play the role of access control. In addition, an infrared sensing gadget is installed inside the door body, which can recognize the function of "one person, one card" for people to go through. (2) The swing door appeared behind the scissor door and belongs to the second generation servo motor glass turnstile gates. Such dc brushless speed The characteristic of turnstiles doors is that the door wings run in the front and back instructions. The operation procedure is within the human body's view, which is safer. In addition, given that the door wings do not need to be retracted into the box, The designs of swing doors are more varied. Due to the above attributes, swing doors are normally used in banks, business structures, high-end office buildings, and so on. Anti-trailing function: There is an overall infrared light band detection location in the channel. The switch state can be changed by software application according to the client's precision requirements. The application of the light band to adapt to various requirements avoids the shortcomings of point-type infrared detectors that are easily polluted and impacts the dependability of judgment, and can successfully evaluate the future. Tag reader who reads the card. When the system figures out that tailgating has actually taken place, the system will respond based on the place of the valid cardholder returned by the infrared detector. After the door opening signal is sent, there are still some abnormal uses that will trigger an alarm.

#speedlane turnstile #tripod turnstile #full height turnstile #swing barrier #flap turnstiles barrier

[szrssecurityswingbarrier]

dc brushless glass turnstile doors also called access swing barrier gate, which comes from the access control system, is one of the crucial parts of contemporary entrance and exit control. The door wings are driven by the control system and open and close instantly. The operating mode can be picked through shows settings: As soon as it is validated that the individual getting in is licensed, the door wings open immediately. It closes after a delay, and the delay time is adjustable. Typical dc brushless speedlane gates gate are divided into scissor doors (city flap turnstile door) and swing doors. (1) Scissor doors are often used in rail transit, and common scissor doors are primarily utilized in subways and other places. The door wings extend from the within the box, which can effectively seal the passage and play the function of access control. In addition, an infrared noticing device is set up inside the door body, which can recognize the function of "someone, one card" for people to travel through. (2) The swing door appeared behind the scissor door and belongs to the second generation servo motor slim turnstile door. Such servo motor speed turnstile gate is that the door wings run in the front and back direction. The operation process is within the human body's line of sight, which is much safer. In addition, because the door wings do not need to be retracted into package, The designs of swing doors are more diverse. Due to the above qualities, swing doors are generally utilized in banks, business structures, high-end office buildings, etc. Anti-trailing function: There is an overall infrared light band detection location in the channel. The switch state can be adjusted by software according to the consumer's accuracy requirements. The application of the light band to adjust to different needs avoids the drawbacks of point-type infrared detectors that are quickly contaminated and affects the dependability of judgment, and can successfully judge the future. Tag reader who checks out the card. When the system determines that tailgating has actually occurred, the system will respond based on the place of the legitimate cardholder returned by the infrared detector. After the door opening signal is sent, there are still some abnormal uses that will activate an alarm.

#face recognition #tripod turnstile #hydraulic bollard #road blocker #access control #boom barrier #parking barrier #full height turnstile #swing turnstile #speedlane turnstile #Youtube

[mrsgreenworld]

It's a curious thing, how my muse and my writer's brain work. I can have a ton of fanfic ideas for a show I've watched and loved for a while. But I cannot, for the life of me, organise these ideas into well-developed pieces of writing. And then there're situations when something new comes along and inspiration strikes me. It's akin to an adrenaline boost that allows me to write super fast. This boost, however, doesn't last long. It's usually enough to get a one-shot down. So, while I'm riding my "adrenaline high", I've got this Duy Beni fic idea. It's a future speculation that, I'm pretty sure, at some point will turn into canon divergence because, once Ekim learns the truth about Kanat's involvement in the accident, things won't play out this way. But let's imagine it going like this: Kanat falls in love with Ekim first. She also starts developing feelings for him but her focus is on Leyla and finding those responsible for the accident. Kanat is torn between his feelings for Ekim and the need to keep the truth about the accident a secret. In the end, he gives in and tells her that he was the one who blackmailed his teacher into driving that car. He doesn't tell Ekim about Melisa and Ozan though. But Ekim knows that Kanat hasn't told the whole truth and suspects that Melisa's involved too. This one-shot takes place some time after Kanat tells Ekim about his involvement in the accident.

I don't own the show or any of the characters. They belong to the writers, production company and the channel. This is only fanfiction.

____________________________________________

The Greatest Privilege of All

Ekim looks up at the sky-high office building and then down at the phone in her hand. She checks the geolocation that Hazal shared, accompanied by a text: "Meet me on the roof".

"How does she expect me to get there? As if they grant the free access to everyone", Ekim mutters to herself but moves to the building entrance anyway.

Through the rotating door Ekim enters into a lobby with a huge reception desk and a turnstile for the employees. She's eyeing the turnstile, when the movement from the corner of her eye catches her attention.

"Ekim Hanım?" a young woman approaches Ekim with a friendly smile and a security pass in her hands.

"Hello! Yeah, that's me", Ekim says with a polite nod.

"Hazal Hanım is expecting you. The elevator on the left will take you to the rooftop", the woman says, pointing at one of the elevators and handing Ekim a security pass.

Ekim thanks the woman, uses the pass to go through the turnstile and moves to the elevator. Once inside, she presses the button to the rooftop.

"Hazal and her crazy whims. Couldn't have chosen a café for a meeting, like all normal people", Ekim thinks and shakes her head with a small smile.

Even with her crazy whims, secrets and friendship with Kanat, Hazal has wormed her way into Ekim's heart and managed to become a close and dear friend.

A ding of the elevator signals its arrival to the rooftop and pulls Ekim from her thoughts. The doors open and Ekim takes a tentative step outside. The doors close behind her, leaving Ekim on the roof that presents a truly breathtaking view. She takes in the city stretching as far as her eyes can see, the tops of business towers, the clear blue sky. And then her eyes land on him.

"Offf, Hazal...", Ekim whispers.

Of course Hazal would trick her into meeting Kanat on the rooftop of a skyscraper with very limited escape routes. Just when Ekim turns back to one of them - the elevator - she hears him say:

"I asked to cut off the power so you won't be able to use it for the next hour".

Ekim takes a deep breath and turns to face him. He's close now, way closer than she feels comfortable with. That's why she takes a step back and starts to search frantically for the access to the stairs.

"And the door to the stairs is locked", Kanat adds.

"So, that's your plan: to lure me to a place with no way out and force me to talk to you?" Ekim exclaims with annoyance.

"Yeah", Kanat responds easily, as if it's totally normal and there's nothing twisted about this.

And that's the whole problem - that the twisted has become his normal.

All of a sudden Ekim feels all annoyance and anger leave her. She's just... defeated.

"I don't want to talk to you, Kanat. Because there's nothing to talk about. You made it clear that you won't tell me who was with you that day, even though I think I know who that person is. You won't go to the police and confess. And you know I cannot go to the police because I don't have any proof. Even if I tell them that you confessed to me, we both know that you'll just deny everything".

"You know why I cannot go to the police. I told you about my father, what he's capable of. You have no idea what he'll do to my mom and my brother if he finds out the truth about the accident ".

"Well, you should've thought about this before you decided to play a sick game with your teacher!" Ekim yells in frustration.

"He wasn't innocent! We were trying to teach him a lesson. I told you that!" Kanat yells back, taking a step closer and crowding into Ekim's personal space.

"And who the hell were you to teach him a lesson? Are you the police? Or angels of vengeance? Oh, no, how could I forget? You're spoilt rich kids who think they own everything and everyone. No rules apply to you, you just do whatever the hell you want. You play with people's lives!"

By the end of her tirade Ekim's out of breath. She's in Kanat's personal space now, their chests almost touching, his heavy breathing ghosting over her face. They're staring each other down. But other than Kanat's usual stubbornness and challenge, that Ekim's so used to, there's also desperation and longing. So much longing that seeing it is akin to touching a raw nerve. That's why Ekim almost jumps away from Kanat. She cannot deal with his feelings and emotions right now, not when her own are threatening to drown her.

She puts as much physical distance between them as possible and turns away from him, from his pleading eyes, his handsome face that tricked her into believing that he was just as beautiful inside.

"You know what made me fall in love with you?" his voice behind her brings Ekim back to reality.

"Stop, please... I don't want to hear it", Ekim whispers.

Kanat goes on as if she hasn't spoken:

"It wasn't your beauty even though you're as beautiful as a girl can get. It wasn't even how brave you were, always going toe to toe with me, never backing down. It wasn't that big brain of yours that is so freakishly good with numbers but can also write prose and poetry. It was your heart and your ability to love. The way you love... So utterly and purely... With so much passion. I wanted that. To be on the receiving end of your loving gaze, your protectiveness. To have this privilege of being loved by you".

Ekim squeezes her eyes shut as if this alone could help her block Kanat's words. She feels tears slipping from under her closed lids when she utters:

"And you could've been loved by me. You were".

"But not anymore?" Kanat asks in a small voice that is so unnatural coming from him.

Because there's nothing small about him. He's tall and muscular and loud.

"Do you really hate me that much?"

At this question, Ekim finally decides to face him again. His eyes are still pleading but also moist now, his face as handsome as ever.

"I don't hate you. But I'm also not in love with you anymore".

The words are hard to say. But not because they're not true. Ekim isn't lying. She doesn't feel in love. She still loves him though. But this love is like an echo now.

And because Kanat's always been good at reading her, knowing exactly when she lies, he sees the truth of her words now. That's why whatever light, still left in his eyes, goes out, leaving them dead and empty. A shadow falls on his face as he presses his lips together tightly and gives her a short nod.

"Then I guess you're right - we really don't have anything to talk about. I'll make a call to get the elevator running again. Just give me a moment".

As Kanat takes his phone out of his pocket and turns away from her to make a call, Ekim realizes that she's lost a privilege of her own - seeing his sincere happy smile, the one that's born out of the knowledge that you're loved, and the hopeful look in his warm chocolate eyes.

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