#Walk-In Freezer Repair

[jass22]

Clean Up Your Walk-In Freezer

Despite the fact that walk-in freezers and coolers are essential parts of several firms, they are frequently neglected. Unfortunately, until they break, the majority of business owners fail to see the value of this reliable equipment. These days, a business can be busy, and expectations are always changing, so maintaining your cooler and freezer may fall to the bottom of your to-do list. A well-kept cooler or freezer, on the other hand, may be a significant advantage to your company in many ways.

Clean coolers and freezers not only make workplaces safer and more enjoyable, but they also increase productivity, lessen operational stress, and may even enable you to save a significant amount of money. Learning how to keep these appliances in peak functioning order is the true challenge.

Dealing With The Floors

A cooler or freezer's floors are but one part of the appliance. When neglected, they could, nevertheless, be among the most dangerously vulnerable. Trip hazards, uncomfortable working environments, and a higher likelihood of damaged inventory are all caused by disorganized and lost inventory. The risk of the aforementioned potential outcomes is only increased by half when debris, dirt, ice, or frost are present.

You need to clean the floors of your freezer or cooler on a regular basis. Your living and working conditions will be significantly improved by sweeping, spot cleaning, gathering inventory, and removing ice and frost. You'll also significantly reduce the likelihood of growth and bacterial accumulation at the same time. Just keep in mind that safety requires spot cleaning. Work on one area, allow it to dry, then go on to another one and repeat.

Shut Doors

Throughout the working day, people routinely use refrigerators and freezers. There is no possible way to avoid this. You should refrain from holding the door open for too long or while inside, though. The door might be propped open by some workers in order to foster a more pleasant working environment. Unfortunately, that will just lead to issues.

By doing this, ambient temps will be quickly introduced. Your arctic surroundings will combine with these temps to produce condensation. Additionally, it will increase the inside temperature, which may require the appliance to operate longer and harder to return the interior temperature to a comfortable level. Furthermore, the humidity fosters the ideal conditions for bacterial and mold growth. Tell your staff to emphasize this!

Lamps Lighting

One of the most frequently disregarded parts of a freezer or cooler is lighting. You might not even be able to use your appliance without lighting help, depending on where it is positioned and the type you have. You'd be amazed at the temporal impact lights may have on the interior environment of machines like these, despite the fact that it probably appears like a small matter.

When lights are left on for long periods of time, they generate heat and make it more difficult for your appliance to maintain the specified temperatures.

This technique will increase your energy expenses in addition to increasing your energy use. Always remember to turn off the lights before leaving an appliance. Some might even find it worthwhile to spend a little extra money and install motion-activated lighting.

Clean Gaskets And Seals

You can keep the doors to your cooler and freezer closed all day and night, but if the seals and gaskets are leaking or damaged, you aren't doing yourself any favors. Regularly checking and cleaning your door gaskets can have a huge impact on how well they function. The finest cleaning agents to use are soap and warm water because harsher cleansers may potentially increase the wear of such components.

Dealing With The Coils

Even though servicing your evaporator and condenser coils will be laborious, it will be worthwhile in the long run. It will lower the price and likelihood of future mechanical breakdowns while keeping your appliance functioning as smoothly as ever. You should attempt to work on these parts at least twice a year, which may require briefly turning off the unit's power. In this situation, you should work quickly.

If you decide to go that route, any nearby refrigeration firm will perform these maintenance tasks for you. Enrolling in a maintenance plan is actually never a bad idea and a cost you may deduct from your taxes.

The Pan And Drain Lines

You'll see that the interior coil or evaporator coil is connected to a drain pan and plastic PVC drain line when cleaning it. The majority of the condensation occurs here, and this is how it is eliminated. You'll obviously want to make sure that this line doesn't get clogged.

Pouring a specific quantity of drain cleaner into the pan while cleaning the coils is an excellent technique to complete this chore. Allow it to dissolve any accumulated sediment as it moves through the drainage system.

Take the time to check the pan for leaks and sediment buildup as you work on this project.

A Condenser Environment That Is Clear And Clean

The part of the freezer or cooler that is outdoors is called the condenser. It will probably be on the building's roof, though it might also be below ground. In either case, some property owners prefer to cover these elements with hedges, plants, or fences. Although there is absolutely nothing wrong with this, the condenser needs a space where it can breathe freely. Ensure that your condensing unit has a foot of clearance on all sides.

About Cool Results

We’re Cool Results, available where you need us when you need us. 20 plus years in the service industry, we’ve been committed to being the best at what we do, serving clients in Houston and the metro area by not just meeting their expectations, but exceeding them.

Want to know more about Ice machine repair Services then check all our services related to commercial industrial and residential freezer repair and installation services.

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Reach-in Cooler

Walk-In cooler repair

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Reach-In Freezer Repair

Walk-In Freezer Repair

Walk-In Freezer Repair

[accutemphvac]

Walk In Cooler Freezer Services

For businesses like restaurants, grocery stores, and food producers, walk-in coolers and freezers are some of the most critical pieces of equipment in the building. Any malfunctions could lead to food safety issues and inventory losses, both of which could have a significant effect on the business’s profit margins. That is why it is important to have a trusted HVACR professional available in Baton Rouge for routine service, inspections, and repairs as necessary.

Walk-in coolers function much like refrigerators, but on a larger scale. These coolers and freezers actively generate cold air to reach the set temperature. The cold air is created by a condenser and fans, and the condenser cycles on and off to maintain the temperature.

At AccuTemp, we have extensive experience with walk-in cooler and freezer systems from all the top industry manufacturers, and we can handle any problem you may encounter. We feature highly trained, certified technicians, and we have been serving the Baton Rouge area since 2006

Searching for walk-in cooler installation company “near me”? For fast, professional walk-in cooler services in Baton Rouge and the surrounding communities, call AccuTemp today at (225) 465-0790 or contact us online!

[antarcticinc]

Expert Commercial Fridge Repair Services You Can Trust

Antarctic Refrigeration is the epitome of excellence in the realm of commercial refrigeration repair services, offering unparalleled expertise, reliability, and customer satisfaction. As a leading provider of industrial fridge repair, walk-in freezer repair service, and true commercial refrigerator repair, Antarctic Refrigeration sets the standard for quality and efficiency in keeping your refrigeration systems running smoothly. With a team of skilled technicians and a commitment to prompt service and lasting solutions, we are dedicated to ensuring that your commercial refrigeration units operate at peak performance, minimizing downtime and preserving the integrity of your perishable goods.

When your business relies on the functionality of commercial freezers, timely repairs are essential to prevent disruptions and loss of inventory. Antarctic Refrigeration specializes in commercial freezer repair service, diagnosing issues efficiently and implementing effective solutions to restore optimal performance to your freezer units. Our technicians are trained to work on a variety of freezer models, ensuring that no matter the size or complexity of the repair, your commercial freezers are in capable hands.

Expert Technicians for Comprehensive Refrigeration Solutions

In the fast-paced world of industrial refrigeration, having a reliable partner for industrial fridge repair is crucial to maintaining the efficiency and longevity of your refrigeration equipment. Antarctic Refrigeration prides itself on delivering comprehensive repair services for industrial fridges, catering to the unique needs and specifications of industrial settings. From diagnosing cooling problems to repairing electrical components, our technicians are equipped with the skills and knowledge to address a wide range of industrial fridge issues efficiently and effectively.

For businesses operating walk-in freezers, Antarctic Refrigeration offers specialized walk-in freezer repair service designed to keep your storage units in optimal condition. Whether you're experiencing temperature fluctuations, compressor issues, or door seal problems, our technicians have the expertise to diagnose and resolve the root cause of the problem, ensuring that your walk-in freezer operates reliably and efficiently.

As a trusted provider of true commercial refrigerator repair, Antarctic Refrigeration understands the importance of maintaining the integrity and efficiency of your commercial refrigeration units. Our true commercial refrigerator repair services are tailored to address specific issues such as cooling inefficiencies, compressor malfunctions, and electronic failures, ensuring that your refrigerators operate at peak performance and comply with industry standards for food safety and storage.

[hyltonheatingandcooling]

As temperatures fluctuate and seasons shift, ensuring optimal indoor comfort becomes paramount. From sweltering summers to chilly winters, having a reliable HVAC system is essential for maintaining a cozy environment year-round. When it comes time for an HVAC replacement Sevierville, homeowners and businesses alike seek solutions that promise efficiency, reliability, and cost-effectiveness.

[coolestrefrigeration]

Expert Walk in Freezer Repairs with Coolest Refrigeration Repairs & Maintenance

Maintaining the functionality of walk-in freezers is crucial for businesses that rely on the storage of perishable goods at sub-zero temperatures. Coolest Refrigeration Repairs & Maintenance is a trusted name in the industry, recognized for its precision and reliability in providing Walk in Freezer Repairs. Their commitment to quality service ensures that businesses experience minimal downtime and optimal freezing conditions.

Rapid Response to Repair Needs

When a walk-in freezer fails, the impact on a business can be immediate and severe, with the risk of product loss skyrocketing. Coolest Refrigeration Repairs & Maintenance understands the urgency of these situations and offers prompt and effective repair services. Their technicians are on call around the clock, equipped to handle emergencies quickly, ensuring that businesses can continue to operate without significant losses.

Comprehensive Maintenance Services

Preventive maintenance is key to the longevity and efficient operation of any walk-in freezer. Coolest Refrigeration offers customized maintenance programs designed to extend the life of walk-in freezers and prevent costly breakdowns. These services include regular inspections, performance checks, and immediate repairs of minor issues that could escalate into major problems. This proactive approach helps maintain the freezer's efficiency and reliability, ensuring consistent operation.

Advanced Technical Expertise

Coolest Refrigeration Repairs & Maintenance employs a team of highly skilled technicians who specialize in all aspects of Walk in Freezer Repairs. They are proficient with the latest advancements in refrigeration technology and employ modern tools and techniques to diagnose and fix problems efficiently. Whether it’s outdated systems or the latest models, their experts are capable of handling repairs for any type of walk-in freezer.

Tailored Solutions for Diverse Industries

Recognizing that different industries have specific needs, Walk in Freezer Repairs tailors its services to meet the particular requirements of each client. Whether it's a restaurant needing to ensure the freshness of its ingredients or a medical facility storing sensitive materials, Coolest Refrigeration crafts solutions that ensure their walk-in freezers meet the necessary standards and regulations for their specific industry.

Building Reliable Partnerships

The philosophy of Coolest Refrigeration Repairs & Maintenance centers on building lasting relationships with their clients. They see each repair opportunity as a way to support their clients’ success, fostering a partnership based on trust and reliability. This client-focused approach has established them as a leading provider in the walk-in freezer repair sector.

Conclusion

Choosing Coolest Refrigeration Repairs & Maintenance means ensuring your Walk in Freezer Repairs are in capable hands. Their expertise, dedication to swift service, and industry-specific solutions make them the ideal partner for maintaining the critical operations of businesses that depend on deep-freezing technology. Trust Coolest Refrigeration to keep your systems running at their best, safeguarding your products and your peace of mind.

[pacificappliancerepair]

Pacific Appliance Repair Services, INC specialize in Washer & Dryer Repair in Los Angeles, CA. We pride ourselves on having a reputation for reliability and integrity. Our top-notch technicians are incredibly skilled with repairing all manner of washers and dryers, and would be happy to aid you with your repair needs as well!

Pacific Appliance Repair Services, INC 1757 N Serrano Ave #111, Los Angeles CA 90027 (213) 234–7543

Official Website: https://pacificappliancerepairs.com/ Google Plus Listing: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=5396650087541014116

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Other Service We Provide:

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[greentexcoolers]

Reach-in freezers installation in Fort Worth: Investing in quality products is always a wise decision if you are thinking of a commercial refrigeration solution. Reach–in freezers, ice machines, and other commercial refrigeration equipment, keep your food products fresh for long hours. The efficiency of your cooling equipment depends on professional installation and proper maintenance. Greentex Coolers offers HVAC installations and after-sale services that can give you the best business setup. We are your go-to destination for reach-in freezers installation in Fort Worth at a cost-effective price.

[coolservicellc]

Walk-in Freezer Installation | Cooler Repair in Lawrenceville

Walk-in Freezer Installation in Lawrenceville

Walk-in Cooler Repair in Lawrenceville Please Call (678) 886-5818 For Service. Commercial walk-in freezer repair and installation services in Lawrenceville

When it comes to installing a walk-in freezer in Lawrenceville, there are several important considerations to keep in mind. Whether you're a restaurant owner, caterer, or food service provider, having a reliable and efficient walk-in freezer is essential for preserving and storing perishable goods. Here are some key points to consider when planning the installation of a walk-in freezer in Lawrenceville.

First and foremost, it's crucial to work with a reputable and experienced company that specializes in walk-in freezer installation. Look for a company that has a proven track record of successfully installing commercial refrigeration systems in Lawrenceville and has a thorough understanding of local building codes and regulations.

Before the installation process begins, a thorough assessment of the available space should be conducted. The size and layout of the walk-in freezer will depend on the specific needs of your business, as well as the available space in your facility. Proper measurements and site evaluation are essential to ensure that the walk-in freezer will fit seamlessly into the designated area.

Additionally, it's important to consider the insulation and sealing of the walk-in freezer to ensure energy efficiency and temperature consistency. Proper insulation is crucial for maintaining the desired temperature inside the freezer and preventing energy wastage. A professional installation company will use high-quality insulation materials and ensure that the freezer is properly sealed to minimize air leakage.

Furthermore, the selection of the refrigeration system is a critical aspect of walk-in freezer installation. The system should be chosen based on the specific requirements of your business, including the volume of goods to be stored, temperature control needs, and energy efficiency. Working with an experienced installation team will ensure that the refrigeration system is properly sized and installed to meet the demands of your operation.

COOL SERVICE LLC In addition to the technical aspects of installation, it's important to consider the accessibility and convenience of the walk-in freezer. The location of the freezer within your facility should allow for easy access and efficient workflow. Proper shelving and storage solutions should also be integrated into the design to maximize the use of space and facilitate organization.

Finally, ongoing maintenance and servicing are crucial for the long-term performance of the walk-in freezer. Partnering with a company that offers maintenance and repair services will help ensure that your freezer operates efficiently and reliably for years to come.

In conclusion, the installation of a walk-in freezer in Lawrenceville requires careful planning, expert execution, and ongoing maintenance. By working with a professional installation team, you can ensure that your walk-in freezer meets the specific needs of your business and operates at peak performance.

[greenrefrigerationllc]

How Do You Install A Walk-In Freezer?

The value of a commercial kitchen can be significantly optimized by a singular investment; walk-in freezer installation. No matter your business type, be it a bakery, a grocery store, or a restaurant, a walk-in freezer will always come in handy.

Importance of Hiring Local Walk-in Freezer Installation Experts

Establishing your walk-in freezer involves substantial factors that must be foreseen. Using local installation experts can have numerous advantages, primarily because they are familiar with the governing regulations on refrigeration equipment installation and operation.

Deciding Where the Freezer Will Be

The first step in the process is deciding where your walk-in freezer will be located. Professional installers can evaluate your unique needs and suggest the most optimal location for your freezer, considering important variables like plumbing and electricity.

The Installation Process

Particularly in warmer climates like Florida, installing a walk-in freezer is a specialized task. The process typically involves anchoring the base, setting up the panels, installing the refrigeration unit, and finally adjusting the temperature for optimal performance.

Fine-tuning the Walk-In Freezer

Even after the main installation process, care should be taken to ensure that everything is running smoothly. This includes testing and adjusting system pressures, cleaning the coils, and verifying that the freezer door is completely airtight.

Regular Maintenance is Essential

Regular upkeep is crucial once the installation is completed. This not only guarantees the longevity of the walk-in freezer but also makes sure that it stays energy efficient. Local specialists can carry out periodic check-ups and maintenance tasks at an affordable price.

Bottom Line

So, if you’re considering an expansion or upgrade in your commercial kitchen, opting for a walk-in freezer is a wise choice. Hiring a local professional for the installation process can save you from unnecessary roadblocks and ensure a smooth installation.

Green Refrigeration LLC (561) 303–7303 — a trusted, reliable, and certified walk-in freezer installation company in Palm Beach County, Broward County, and surrounding South Florida areas.

[polarelite]

Check out Brownbook profile to know about our Walk in Cooler Freezer Repair Whitby service available at competitive rates. To know more, call 647 229 4328.

[k1appliancerepair]

Commercial Convection Oven Repair

K1 Appliance Repair offers the best home appliance repairs and maintenance services such as commercial freezer repair services, commercial convection oven repair services and more at affordable prices. https://k1appliancerepair.com/

[coolresults1]

This infographic gives you a glance at how you can keep your walk-in freezer sealed with complete safety. Get in touch with Cool results to get the best walk-in freezer repair in Houston. call 713-344-4957 for further details.

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “Let’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[sofasoap]

Heartbreak

Pairing : Din Djarin x f!reader. slight description of injuries on Reader otherwise no other physical descriptions.

Summary: The only time Din says no to you. Din sucks at communication.  Part 1 of the Series.

Slightly AU-ish, he didn't get N1 after Razor Crest got blown up. he got something similar.

Warning: Mature theme. strong languages. angsty. 

A/N : I seem to be writing all the Din fic for the University students at moment to push them on ( Trust me, I know your pain. been there done that)   @groguspicklejar  and @deakyjoe, this is for both of you. GET YOUR ASSIGNMENTS GOING!!

MASTERLIST For sequel to this series

Din couldn't say no to you.

First time he met you, you were a mechanic work in a dingy workshop on the planet of Coruscant.

Din can sense you don't belong there at all.  You were too... pure? Radiating this aura that has him guessing you were originally from a good family,  slight Naboo accent seeping through as you speak, no matter how much you try to hide it. Judging from the huge scar you have running from the base of your jaw towards the bridge of your nose, you must have a story behind how you end up here. But it's not for him to probe. Everyone has their own secret.

"Alright, Mandalorian,All those carbon scorings we have tried and removed, that is no problem. But, " You wipe your sweat away from your face as you reading the report from the holopad of all the damages to him. " Your Hyperdrive is on its way out. It's a miracle it actually lasted this long." Lowering your voice, " I have replaced few parts here and there as well, it's on the house. Just don't tell my boss." You winked.

Din insisted on paying for the extra components. But again, you wouldn't budge, saying you manage to reuse the parts you salvage from other older imperial ships that has been sitting in the corner of the workshop , for makers knows how long. " It's taking up space anyway. you are actually doing as a favour getting rid of it."

He couldn't say no.

Thanking you, he went on his way.

Two cycles later, he is back again.  To the same shop.

This time he can sense something is different.

The owner came out and greet him. Different person, Din noticed.  Part of him wonder if you were still there.

The owner yelled towards the corner, your head popped out from the speeder you were working on. Spotting Din with the owner, your eyes went wide slightly as you hurryingly came and answer his call.

"Hello Mandalorian, I see your back again. Your hyperdrive is still functioning?" Din was surprised you still remember him. But then, how many Mandalorians are left out there around the galaxy?

He watches you as you walk around with the holopad, running diagnostics. Tapping away, you were mumbling something to yourself, making a few notes as you go along. You look sadder, more tired. You are not as happy.

Same as last time, You explain to Din the hyperdrive is still the main problem, also the most important thing, Carbonite freezer is leaking. This is going to cost him quite a bit , he sighed, but both important components for his ship he just have to throw the money in and get it done.

"I am sorry I wouldn't be able to give you any freebies this time... my.. new boss.. isn't as nice." You lowered your voice.

That confirms his suspicion.

Few days later, after the repair has been done, you begged Din to take you with him as your owner was not looking.

" I am not a taxi service." 

" Please, I will work for free, I can maintain your ship.. I have enough credits I can take care of myself.. I wouldn't be a bother. I just need to get away from here."

The way you were looking at him, how can he say no?

He later thanked himself for it.

Din was suppose to drop you off at some mid-rim planet as per agreement, but time goes on, he feel comfortable with your presence. Not only you were an excellent mechanic, saves him a lot of time and credit to find a planet with a decent workshop, you worked your miracle to keep the ship flying with no problem.  You can even cook, keeping the ship nice and clean, Din even trust you with his weapon maintenance as time goes on.

Along came the little green munchkin.

You ease into the role of caretaker smoothly.  

Hell, what else can you not do? You take care of the child like your own.  Taking care of his needs, feeding him, cleaning him, teaching him lessons, history of galaxy, sciences, mathematics. Din not quite sure how much the baby really understand or taking in, but he love watching your interaction with the child.   Reminds him memories of his own childhood, whatever little bit of memory he has left with his birth parents before the attack.  

He especially loves it when you recite stories and sing songs to the child.

Your angelic voice.

"Sorry Mando, Do you mind if we can buy more books or holopads of stories and lessons so I can teach the child? I still got enough credit I wouldn't waste any of yours.." You timidly ask him one day.

He ended up paying for the the stuff you asked for. How can he say no to you?

The longer you spend with him, you feel there was something simmering between you two, but never acknowledged. Both of you were too scared to say something, to break the equilibrium, breaking that little temporary happiness the three of you formed, a family. Clan of three. Clan mudhorn.

He gave you a vibroblade once,

“ For protection. Blaster isn’t always going to be effective.” He commented. 

You turn the blade over, you notice the corner of the handle, there’s a mudhorn signet engraved on it. 

You want to ask him about it, but he already walked off after you look back up at him.

You were hurt. Din was hurt.  There seem to be a gap between you two after Grogu has left for the Jedi training.  Both of you were trying your hardest to recover from the emptiness. You kept yourself busy doing work around the ship as per usual, but Din, already a man without too many words, seems to shut himself out from you even more than before.

He doesn't want you anymore. Just like your family.  You are no more use to him. Mind is a dangerous thing.   

This is for the best.

" Mando... We need to talk."

 "......" " I been thinking..." 

"......"

"it's time for me to leave." " NO."

"what is the point of me staying when Grogu isn't here anymore?" 

" NO."

" Why not??? You been ignoring me since Grogu left... As if I don't exist! Just let me go Mando... please.. " you sobbed.

You left that night. Despite him saying No.

Din thought Grogu's departure broke his heart, your departure absolutely tore his heart out.  

But who can he blame apart from himself for pushing you away?  His clan of three has fallen apart. 

“Hey Mando! I see you are back with your little green thing!! Come to Aunt Peli!!”  Grogu happily ran towards Peli, jumping into her hug. 

Din’s heart healed a bit after Grogu returned from his Jedi training. But there’s still an empty part in his heart that can only be filled by you. 

“So what is the problem this time round Mando? Hyperdrive again? You are in luck! I have someone new started working for me lately, she is absolute master fixing old imperial space junk like your ship!”  Din rolled his eyes. 

A voice piped up behind an old engine. 

“ I wouldn’t say I am total expert Peli, it just happen I have a lot of.........”  

Din snapped his head towards owner of the voice. 

It was you. 

You froze on the spot once you spotted Din. 

Grogu let out a happy squeal and jumped out from Peli’s lap and ran towards you with his little short leg.  You crouched down and scoop up the little child that you admit you miss so much. He let out happy coo and noises, as if trying to express his happiness to see you and trying to tell you all the things been happening since you last saw him.

“ I know little pea... I miss you a lot too. Have you had a good time with Master Luke?”

“ ... Why are you here.”

You turn your attention back towards Din.  Frowning at his accusation tone, you stood up and face him. 

“ I work here. That is why.” 

Peli walked over and carefully extract Grogu from your embrace. 

“ Come on you little thing.. Aunty Peli got some sweets for you... let the adults talk.”  Shooting you two a glance, she walked off with Grogu into the office while all the droids followed her. 

Din clenching his fist. Part of him was glad he has finally found you, by pure accident, and the stubborn part of him was furious you left without a proper goodbye, or even, left even without his permission.

“Why did you leave.”

“ I thought i stated it very clearly that night, Mando.” 

You know his real name. but you never use it.  He hates that. It put that extra distance between you two. 

“ I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You point a finger at his chest and spit out with anger “ OH, So I need permission from YOU to leave? What are you? My master and I am your slave?”  Din flinched, him and his damn mouth.  

“I will fix your ship up. After that. Leave me alone.”  You turned around, walking towards his ship, trying to end the conversation. 

” ... have you still got the blade.” You heard him asking as you walk off. 

”..... yes.” 

You were going to leave it on the ship the night you left, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

Take it as a souvenir. Something to remember him by.  You said to yourself.  You try to convince yourself. 

But you know the only thing you left behind that night was pieces of your broken heart. 

I was going to leave it as sad ending but I think someone will kill me if I did... * looking at  @deakyjoe * I might do a part 2 to this tomorrow. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :D 

[halfmoth-halfman]

i. it's a new day, it's a new life

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: alcohol mention, (very, very brief) blood mention Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. prev | next

If you’re on time, you’re late.

That’s what your father drilled into your head—one of his many rules for life and how it should be lived. As a kid, you hadn’t cared much about the endless rules and regulations and life lessons he tried to impart on you, but as an adult, you’ve found an appreciation for his old words of wisdom. You try to live your life accordingly—be a woman he would’ve been proud of.

Though, you suppose trying to make him proud is what got you in this situation in the first place.

Regardless, his schedule is burned into your brain, leaving you wide awake and ready to go a full two hours before your first shift at The 141. Nerves and excitement combine into a cocktail of restlessness that has you pacing the length of your motel room. It’s a short walk both ways, your feet following the already well-worn path of the dingy, frayed carpet.

When pacing doesn’t settle you, you opt to lie down. Flopping back onto the partially stained sheets of your lumpy bed to stare up at the ceiling—its popcorn surface cracked and chipped from a shoddy attempt at repairing the water damage.

This isn’t where you expected to end up—stuck in some rundown motel with nothing but the clothes on your back.

You thought you’d get much farther than this.

But with hardly any cash and a car running on empty, rival territory seemed as good a place to stop as any. At the very least, it meant you wouldn’t be followed.

If there were any rules your father was lenient on, crossing into 141 territory wasn’t one of them; everyone in your family—and anyone who was familiar with them—knew better than to disobey him.

Had he a grave, you might’ve actually visited it to give your thanks.

A stray mattress spring digs into your lower back—sharp edge scratching through your thin, black shirt and the thick denim of your jacket—pulling you from your wandering thoughts.

Might as well get a head start.

You bounce yourself into an upright position, double-checking the laces of your boots before you stand. The lights flicker when you flip the switch, flashing too bright before shutting off as you step out into crisp autumn air. You look at the door behind you, slotting your keys between your fingers to form a makeshift claw in your fist as you cross the parking lot to your car.

Your car’s in as bad shape as the room—bought used, and paid for in cash—but it gets you where you need to go, so you don’t complain. You slide into the driver’s seat—shutting the door twice because it never closes all the way the first time—and check for your duffle bag in the backseat before putting your key in the ignition. It takes a minute to start, then another to stop rattling, but you have extra time and don’t mind the wait.

The drive to the club is uneventful—too early for morning traffic—and you have another hour before you’re meant to start, so you take your time on the drive.

You park in the back this time, tucking your duffle bag under the backseat, then double and triple-checking that the doors are locked before making your way to the front of the club.

No one else appears to be inside, but the door’s unlocked, and the lights are on. You can see a small, wheeled cart full of cleaning supplies sitting near the stage that you can only guess is for you. If your watch is correct, you have a little under half an hour before you have to start. You could start now—get a jump on what you're sure is to be a busy day—or…

Your father’s armchair tales ring in the back of your head.

What was it he had said?

They paint the walls red so you can’t see the blood stains and keep the bodies in a morgue hidden behind the walk-in freezer.

You doubt there are any secret morgues, but you are curious about the rest of the interior. And it would help to be familiar with the layout before you start cleaning, right?

It takes alarmingly little to convince yourself to have a little walkabout—you always were too curious for your own good—making your way to the bar first. The stairs leading to the second floor are on the left and roped off with a thick velvet cord, so you turn your attention to the right side.

The booths don’t interest you; though the heavy curtains cover them, you know what lies behind them. There's a short hall past them that leads to a large set of double doors with glass windows that reveal part of a massive kitchen. Even from here, you can tell the countertops are polished to perfection. It almost reminds you of—

Nope.

You turn away from the kitchen, ignoring the small knot of dread and nostalgia that begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You turn to face the stage, leaning back against the bar top. There’s a hallway to the left of the stage that winds around behind it, but there are no lights to illuminate the way, and you know better than to wander down unlit hallways.

That just leaves—

Between the booths and the hallway behind the stage are a pair of solid black double doors. Similar to the one in front of the stairs, a gold stanchion sits in front of them, but there’s no velvet cord connecting them.

You’ve got twenty-six minutes to kill.

Why not?

A small skip down the stairs and a few hurried steps, and you’re at the door, glancing to your left and right before you set a hand on the cold metal of the door handle and turn.

With a sharp click, the door sways open.

Why don’t they ever lock their doors?

You creep inside, holding the handle down to shut the door silently behind you. You’re let into a small waiting room with more double doors—this set is solid glass, save for the handles, with one door slightly askew. You take that as an invitation, waltzing through the doors with care to not leave fingerprints on the glass.

You’d have to be the one to clean them, after all.

A strange sense of nostalgia hits you as soon as you enter the office. All dark wood and luxury, you’re hit by the scent of cigars—the expensive kind your father kept in his own office but never actually smoked—with undertones of a spiced cologne. You stand opposite the desk—a spacious cocobolo covered in papers, picture frames, and a closed laptop.

The wall to your right has been converted to several overflowing bookshelves surrounding a large fireplace. The wall to your left houses a large TV and a fully stocked whiskey cabinet that stretches up to the ceiling. Plush couches sit on either side of you—two near the fireplace and one facing the wall-mounted television—matching the chairs sitting in front of the desk.

Probably shouldn’t be in here.

You ignore the desk and the alcohol, heading straight for the wall of books. There are a few you recognize, but most are unfamiliar to you. Your fingertips graze the spines, admiring the soft feel of the leather covers as you search for titles you know.

It takes a few shelves, but you manage to find one you recognize. You pluck it from the shelf without a thought—in awe at the beautiful, custom cover—but the weight of it takes you by surprise. It’s not an overly thick book, you think, balancing it in one hand to open the cover, so why is it—

The carved-out pages are a surprise.

The gun even more so.

Definitely shouldn’t be in here.

“Find something you like?”

You snap the book shut with a swiftness, holding it behind your back as you slowly turn toward the doors. A man stands in the open space, staring you down with an arched brow on his otherwise blank face.

He hadn’t been there the day before; you’re sure you would’ve remembered him if he had.

Kyle and the others had seemed friendly—if somewhat caught off-guard—but this man is all authority. Calm, intimidating authority. Gentle waves ready to pull you into the violent undertow.

Dark brown hair just beginning to grey at the temples and…unique facial hair; he stares you down with piercing blue eyes and thick arms folded across his broad chest.

You know designer when you see it.

And though he appears dressed in simple black pants and a white button-up with rolled-up sleeves, you can tell the fabric, and its quality, cost more than most anyone could afford.

He’s handsome—in a stern, professor sort of way.

“Good read?” he asks, stormy cerulean gaze dipping down to where your hands are tucked behind your back.

Oh.

That deep rasp melts into your ears, dripping into your brain to pour a fiery path down your spine and settle into a burning pit low in your belly.

“I wasn’t— I—” you stutter, struggling for words and praying he can’t see the red blooming on your face.

Calm down.

The worst he can do is kill you.

You collect yourself, opening your mouth to respond properly, but he beats you to it, “Club’s not open right now, love.”

“I work here,” you say, plastering that award-winning smile on your face. His eyes snap to yours, thick brows knitting together.

“That so?” he asks, slow and disbelieving. “And what is it you do here?”

“Clean,” you answer. You move the book-slash-gun-case to one hand so you can check your watch. “In fact, my shift starts in…two minutes and thirty-six seconds. So, I should probably…y’know…go clean.”

You take easy, deliberate steps, moving in front of the desk so you can set the book on top of it. You try to be discreet, but something about those eyes tells you not much gets past this man. You take a step forward, but he doesn’t move, standing firmly in your path.

“The new cleaner,” he sighs, uncrossing his arms to run his thumb over an eyebrow. “It’s Robin, yeah?”

“Canary, actually.” The smile does little to hide the bite in your voice, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Canary,” he says your name slowly, letting it roll off his tongue as if to get a taste of your character. “The woman my son hired with no phone and asked to be paid in cash.”

His son? Kyle?

Well…at least your boss is nice to look at.

“Yep, that would be me—” you straighten up, extending your hand out to him, “—pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Sir,” he laughs to himself—a quiet, amused huff just under his breath—and reaches out to wrap his large hand around yours. “Price. John Price.”

His handshake is firm—a little too firm in your opinion—but he’s so warm the heat from his skin sinks into your palm and spreads up your arm.

“Did Gaz go over the club rules with you when he hired you?” Mr. Price asks, holding your gaze as he shakes your hand.

“Gaz?”

“My son, Kyle.”

“Oh. No, not really.” The handshake continues through your short conversation, his hand slowly tightening around yours. You loosen your grip to pull away, but his fingers squeeze around yours.

“I won’t bore you with the details, then. But I’ll let you know the most important one.”

Shocks of pain shoot through your wrist as his hand tightens into a vice. He yanks you forward with surprising strength, and you stumble at the sudden jerk. You catch yourself before you collide with him, but you’re significantly closer—almost chest-to-chest with him.

He takes it in stride, leaning down to set his mouth near your ear. His beard scratches at your skin as the pressure from his hand begins to cut off circulation in your own.

He smells just how his office looks: all smoked wood and wealth and danger.

“You don’t come into my office. Ever. Understood?” His voice is a quiet growl in your ear—a gentle one-time forgiveness with a warning that is more promise than threat; you doubt he’s ever made a threat he wouldn’t follow through on.

A chill wracks your body.

You can’t tell if it’s from fear or inappropriate excitement.

He pulls back to look at you, ocean-hued eyes staring down into yours. You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you nod, and finally he lets go of your hand.

He brushes past you, scent lingering behind as you attempt to massage the feeling back into your palm.

“You can go home for the day. Start fresh tomorrow,” Mr. Price says casually, picking up the book you’d left on his desk and heading to return it to its place on the bookshelf. “Ghost will show you out.”

You whip around to stare at his back in confusion.

“Ghost?”

Is this place fucking haunted?

What are the ethics of employing the dead?

He looks back at you, nodding at something over your shoulder. You slowly follow his gaze, turning your head like a horror-movie protagonist.

Your nose nearly collides with an impressively solid chest. You crane your head up, searching for a face that must be attached to this solid wall of muscle and intimidation before you. How had a man that size gotten so close without a sound?

He’s dressed in solid black, this giant, every inch of skin covered from the neck down. A cloth mask rests over the bottom half of his face, white paint dried and chipping in the shape of the bottom half of a skull. His honey-brown eyes are shadowed by smudged black paint that reminds you all too much of your three-day-old eyeliner after a weekend bender. His sandy-blonde hair is cropped short, strands hanging messily over his forehead. Twin scars bisect his left eyebrow and eyelid, and pull taut as he glares down at you.

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, crushing grip wrapping around your forearm to pull you toward the door. He shoves you through it—not hard, but forceful enough for you to trip over your own feet—following directly behind you.

“See you tomorrow, Sparrow!” Mr. Price calls just as the door shuts.

Ghost follows you all the way to the parking lot, close enough for you to feel his body heat at your back at all times. He watches you get into your car, shut the door once then twice, and listens to the engine struggle to a start.

He doesn’t leave as you pull out of the lot, and you can see his shadowy form watching you in your rear-view mirror.

You get back to the motel in record time, but once you pull into a space, you can’t find it in yourself to get out. Instead, you fold your arms over the steering wheel, dropping your head on top.

“What am I doing?” you mumble, pressing your forehead into your arms.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

What are you doing?

You didn’t have to be here. You could’ve been back in the comfort of your home, lounging by one of the pools or getting ready for some fancy gala with those frilly little cakes and good wine.

But pools and galas meant skimpy bathing suits and revealing dresses; both options meant being leered at by those around you and being put down by—

Stop it.

You turn and rest your cheek on your arms, glancing behind you at the duffle bag lying on the floorboards.

It’s not ideal, where you’re at now, but it’s better than where you used to be. A small bump in the road is all this is. No one will follow you here, and you can deal with John Price and his intimidatingly handsome face for the few weeks it’ll take to get some cash under your belt so you can move on.

For now, you're safe, and that’s all you need.

taglist: @sleepyendymion, @blazedprince, @blueoorchid, @ohgodthebogisback, @melancholyy-hill, @wasteland-babe

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 8)

tw: like nasty living conditions implied

vote on da poll below ill start writing after 20 votes, next chapter will b focusing on monty

part 9

You can't do it. You can't say no to Yves without going through mental hoops. So you sigh as you let him conquer your room.

You had posters of your favorite artists, but they were all lost in the clutter long ago. It reemerged dusty and damaged, but Yves repaired it the best he could. It looks decent enough to hang.

You watched him cover his mouth in contemplation as he looked around the room, trying to figure out the best place to hang it.

Yves has done more for you than everyone else combined in your life. He cleaned, he cooked, he took care of your sickness, he cleaned you, he fed you, and now he's decorating your room to make it more habitable. All of this and you never said a word, neither protest nor request. You just let him do his thing.

From what you read in the group chat, he also replenished your section of the fridge with groceries.

Your housemate took a picture of the things he bought, all of them were labelled with your name. His handwriting is black marker ink undoubtedly beautiful.

Your housemate did warn him that you're not one for cooking, the perishables could potentially go to waste. He replied that he will be visiting over for the next few days to make your meals. One of them even broke the landlord's rules and gave him a spare key to the front door.

Eventually, Yves found the perfect places to position your posters' forever home. Who knew just the strategic placement of some piece of laminated paper would elevate a room? It looks much better and oddly bigger now... well maybe the latter due to his cleanup.

He clasped his hands and admired his work. As he should.

After that, he turned to you. Which made you jolt out of surprise.

"It's been an hour and a half. Do you still want to eat?" He asked.

You checked the time. He's right, it's now half past eleven. You're not hungry anymore, so you told him that you're full. He nodded and left your room again.

Your housemates blew up the group chat due to another wild Yves sighting around the house. Is this how it's going to be from now on?

This time, you received a picture of him portioning the leftover congee in disposable containers. He has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his lean forearms. You're surprised to see that they were riddled in old scars. It was captioned: "He's freezing the rest"

You squinted and it looks like he's weighing them on an electronic scale. There's a marker pen in this picture.

You sent a message to the group chat asking if he's using his own items.

"I think so??? Idk i have never seen these containers b4" "well theyre not stained yellow yet, he has gotta have these brand new" "yea n hes using rich people sharpies, like none of us here can afford it, all of us get offbrands"

You wonder if he managed to fit them into his handbag.

Yves came back into your room, explaining that the congee will last up to 3 months in the freezer. He also walked you through the steps on how to reheat them by yourself, using the microwave or otherwise. Yves told you not to worry if you couldn't remember what to do, he wrote it down and attached it to the containers- or you could call him instead.

You nodded and waited to see what he would do. Yves seem to be doing the same thing to you for the next few seconds. Eventually though, he deem that you didn't need anything from him at the moment.

"I have to retrieve something from my car." He informed you, walking towards his bag and fishing out his keys. He checked the contents of his thermos cup, it's empty. The metal straw clanked around the walls as he picked it up and carried it with him.

You paid no mind to your housemates' frantic messages enquiring about his departure. You're too tired to care anymore, and you're too tired to know if you actually wanted him here or gone. It's nice to have company for once, but it's from a questionable source.

So you tucked yourself under your blanket and curled up into a ball. Hiding your head under your pillow so you wouldn't need to see Yves when he comes in.

You heard footsteps. And sure enough, Yves is now breathing the same diseased air as you.

But this time, he says nothing. Yves flicked the switch to your lights off and set whatever he has down on your desk.

There was a long period of silence accompanied by the soft sounds of typing. A dim glow from his computer screen illuminated his face and reflected on his reading glasses. He's logging in all the events, the observations and other pieces of data he collected from you today.

Yet you're not awake to see any of it. Blissfully sleeping and snoring away as Yves kept you company throughout the night.

__

You woke up the next morning feeling much better. But still not as healthy as usual. You should be fit enough to go to the university today.

Yves is gone and so are his belongings. However, you found a handwritten note addressed to you on your night stand.

"Your breakfast is in the fridge. Look for a mason jar with your name. It is ready to eat. -Yves"

You stretched and yawned, crumpling the paper and shooting it into the trash can.

You peeled the blanket off yourself and set your feet down onto the floor. That was when you realized he left something on the foot of your bed.

Another note resting on top of a set of neatly folded clothes and a bottle of sunscreen.

"The weather today will be reaching 90⁰F/32.2⁰C, take care of yourself and avoid the sun. -Yves"

The clothes he picked for you were the ones you forgot you had. It was breathable and cooling, but in your daily, personal style. He must have found it yesterday when he did your laundry.

You carried it in your arms and walked to your door to see yet another note- this time it was a folded A4 sized paper, attached to your bag, which looked noticeably lighter and... newer.

"I do not recommend leaving yet. But if you do, I packed an umbrella for you. Please wash your water bottle regularly, it is growing mold. Your bag was full of unnecessary paper scraps, wrappers, food crumbs, and other garbage. I had to hand wash it as I found a dried house lizard pressed between a dictionary and a magazine. Some of the notes and textbooks you carry were not even required for this semester or the next, hence I kept it away on your shelf. Your bag had holes at the bottom and was already falling apart at the seams. I sewed the best I could, but replacing and upgrading is the better option. Be mindful of your belongings.-Yves"

Your face became bright red after reading the last line. You never asked him to do this for you! Why is he judging? He chose to stick around! You don't like being told you're pathetic, directly or indirectly!

Did he really have to underline the word "mold" more than thrice? And why did he switch to red ink for that one word?

You took a deep breath and sighed. Exiting your room to pay a visit to the bathroom.

You were taken aback by the cleanliness. It looked like how it was in the listing, shiny and grime free. The shampoo and soap bottles were arranged neatly with no trace of dark sludge coating it.

There is another note stuck to the mirror.

This time, there were crude drawings depicting penises urinating on your name, no doubt vandalized by your housemates. You went ahead to read what Yves had to say.

"To (name), I replaced your toothbrush as that too, was growing mold. Pay attention to your hygiene or else you will be prone to sickness.- Yves"

There were hearts drawn all around his name, no doubt the culprit was your housemate who took a liking to him.

After taking a shower and changing into your new set of clothes, you left the bathroom to eat breakfast in the kitchen.

You opened the now pristine fridge and sure enough, there is a mason jar with a sticker of your name on its side.

You rotated it to see that he has written something else:

"Banana chia pudding: Chia seeds, almond milk, banana slices, vanilla extract, maple syrup, granola. Gluten-free and lactose-free. Do not heat, eat as is."

You're not sure how to feel about the taste, texture and temperature. It is "sick people" food after all. Perhaps you liked it, perhaps you don't. But you are definitely grateful that you have a free meal from Yves.

One of your housemates entered the kitchen, she greeted you as she began preparing her own meal.

You asked her what time Yves left.

"Beats me. His car was already gone when I woke up at 4am to take a piss. He did leave us a note though."

You asked her what she meant by that.

She shoved her hand in her pant pocket and handed a crumpled piece of paper to you.

"I will visit at 6pm, please take care of (name) for me. -Yves"

You asked where did she find this note.

"Next to the light switch in the living room" She cracked open an egg on her skillet.

You looked at the wall clock. It says 12:03pm

You have around 6 hours left before Yves comes back. There is nothing much to do in your house because the Internet runs at a snail's pace and there is no air conditioning. So you would be boiling in your room.

You think you're well enough to move around and you definitely do not want to spend time with your housemates.

You don't have to go to the university, since your exams are over and so are your classes for the semester. But all the study spots, including the library, have air conditioning.