#backrooms office uniform

[backrooms-office]

You, yes you, the followers of this blog

You are now little creatures that will run around the office.

For context, I thought it would be fun to make all my followers into there little creatures to show I care for everyone!!

This means that if you aren’t following, you should and you will get a little creature! :D

I based these mainly off of profile pics so sorry if it doesn’t look as you would imagine.

Also, the numbers show who followed first, second, etc.

And for my first follower, you get a gold crown, second is silver and third is copper ^_^

Here are the followers and their respective blogs with the cropped pics!

1st - @exponentially-fxckedup

2nd - @a-p-0-c-r-y-p-h-a

Currently a WIP :1

If you are seeing this, go check your messages!!

3rd - @xoriamoth

4th - @averageyouneedenjoyer

5th - @aspen-is-exsisting

6th - @kits-adventure

Thanks for looking at all these! I hope to see you coming to this blog again soon ^-^

I’m really sorry if I didn’t do you lot justice, let me know if there is anything I can improve upon!

[sirianasims]

Psssst! Hey! Yes, you! We need to talk about clubs:

Using the Clubs for Immersive Gameplay

Of all the systems that Sims 4 has, the club feature is probably one of my favourites (Restaurants are a close second, but they're not why we're here today!) Clubs are one of the easiest ways to increase your immersion when you play and make the random townies that show up on community lots just a tiny bit less random.

The Basics

Often, people are mostly concerned with the groups their active sims are in. You might already have a club to keep track of your sims' closest friends, study group, or baby daddies, we don't judge here.

Clubs are also a great way to automate what you want your sim to be doing with less micromanaging, but for immersion, we're actually more interested in clubs for the sims you don't (or rarely) play.

WTF are the neighbours doing?

Most of the pre-made clubs are kinda meh. I prefer to add my own so I can make my community lots just a bit more lively and make sure people's activities make just a tiny bit of sense because the autonomy in this game is not great. These are just for inspiration based on clubs I often add to my own game:

A group of teens who meet at the retail clothing store to try on clothes and gossip about Nancy's nose job or whatever.

A local bowling league (complete with uniforms) who meet and bowl - just don't fuck with The Jesus.

An HOA of Karens who meet at the park to clean, raise property values, and be mean to people.

Geeks and gamers who meet at the local arcade to awkwardly flirt over pizza.

Comedians who meet at the local comedy club - you can even use the club doors to make a VIP backroom only for the performers.

Sports teams - such as a basket team who meets at a local basket court, or a swim team who meets at the local pool (you can even give them tiny matching speedos!)

Scouts! The scout feature is cute but it's a rabbit hole, boo! But you can make a Scouts club, complete with uniforms, and have them show up in parks where they can do various activities and work on their badges. Add a teen or two to supervise the younglings, their parents will be so proud, aww.

A sorority or fraternity in university who meet up at the local bar in matching varsity jackets to make all the other students feel inferior.

A group of old ladies who meet at the park to knit or cross-stitch and brag about the accomplishments of their descendants.

A "business" club, usually CEOs, lawyers and such, who meet in fancy bars to hold important business meetings and probably commit white-collar crimes, so predictable.

If you have a sim with an office/work from home job and you'd like to pretend they actually go to work, you can make an office building and a group of "coworkers" who'll show up to drink coffee, chat, and work on computers next to them in the office. It'll even simulate rotating desk assignments for an instant capitalist hellscape!

The possibilities are endless, and I find the club feature really useful to add little interesting scenarios to the background of my gameplay.

Thanks to SQOTD for inspiring this!

📩 Simblr question of the day: according to you, what are the most underutilized gameplay features in the sims games you played, dlc included? - @simblr-question-of-the-day

[junipernight]

Yangvik Week Day 1: Injured

@yangvikweek2024

Yangchen enveloped Kavik’s hands in water and took them in her own.

“Explain to me again where the mission went wrong?”

“It didn’t go wrong,” Kavik protested. “We got the information, and no one got caught!”

Yangchen pursed her lips. Kavik was pretty sure she’d be glaring at him if her eyes weren’t already fixed on the delicate work of healing burns. He sat very still, knee to knee with the Avatar, and let her work. 

For a moment, all was quiet, except for the muted sounds of customers drinking tea and chatting on the other side of the wall. It was crowded in the backroom of the little teahouse that Akuudan and Tayagum had opened in Ba Sing Se, especially with all seven members of the team in it (nine if you counted Pik and Pak, who were perched on Boma’s shoulders.) It would almost be cozy, having the whole team back together, if his hands didn’t feel like literal fire.

Akuudan clapped one enormous hand on Kavik’s shoulder. “We made it into the records office without any problems. But then Feishan’s guards came making the rounds, and our lookout here saw they were opening doors as they passed, which we hadn’t expected them to do. So Kavik stuck his hands into a nearby torch, and then made up a story about a rogue firebender who’d attacked him.”

The guards hadn’t even questioned the unfamiliar servant boy’s presence; he’d been dressed in the right uniform, and there was a high turnover rate in Feishan’s palace. The horrific burns had also been very convincing.

Yangchen sighed. “Was that really necessary?” 

“It was. You know what the consequences would have been if we were caught.”

“I meant, what happened to using the signal?”

Tayagum answered for him. “Our backup exit was blocked by a gaggle of court ladies shortly after we broke in. And anyway, we hadn’t had enough time yet to locate the correct documents. The whole mission would have been compromised if not for Kavik’s quick thinking.”

“I sent them on a wild pinegoose chase,” Kavik said. “I told them I was attacked by a fire bender who was 5 feet tall and one-eyed and had a shaved head. And then I said he ran towards the throne room and they booked it.”

“Do you ever come up with plans that don’t result in you injuring yourself on purpose?” Jujinta asked snidely. 

Even though Kavik and Jujinta were on much better terms these days, his old Association partner couldn’t resist getting in a jab whenever the opportunity presented itself. At least these days his weapon of choice was sarcasm instead of blades. Mostly.

“Why?” Yingsu asked. “What has he done before this?”

“When we needed to extract information about Unanimity out of his lousy brother, I stabbed Kavik, and we pretended to torture him until we got Kalyaan to talk.”

“Wow,” Yingsu said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s dark. And here I thought you were the good guys.”

Kavik and Yangchen kept their faces carefully still. Neither said anything, each still feeling guilty about the ploy for different reasons, even if it had been necessary. 

“It was his own idea,” Tayagum said, shrugging. “When we first met, I was smuggling him into Jonduri under an old crewmate's identity, but there was a last-minute change in the dock guard. We would’ve gotten caught, if this guy hadn’t purposefully ‘slipped’ and bashed his own nose in.”

“Is that why your face used to look like that?” Jujinta asked. 

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t know about that one,” Yangchen said. She stopped what she was doing so she could look Kavik in the eye. 

“The night we first met…” she began.

Kavik rolled his eyes. “I genuinely had frostbite that night, and I most definitely wasn’t aiming to get beat up by your guards. I’m not a one trick platy-pony, you guys. I don’t hurt myself everytime I run an errand. Believe it or not, I usually make a clean exit.”

“Hmmm.” Yangchen made a troubled hum in the back of her throat, and went back to healing him.

“… What kind of waterbender gets frostbite?” asked Jujinta.

Kavik’s hands were occupied, but his mouth wasn’t, and he was so incredibly tempted to spit icicles at Juji. See how he liked being subjected to surprise daggers for once.

Luckily, Akkudan spoke first. “Leave him alone, Jujinta. Frostbite is no joke. Even a firebender can get burned, even an earthbender can be crushed, and even a waterbender can succumb to the cold.” Not for the first time, Kavik wondered if there was a story behind Akuudan’s missing arm, or if he had simply been born without it. Kavik had never asked, in case it was a sore subject.

While they had been talking, the swelling in Kavik’s hands had gone down significantly, though his skin still bubbled and blistered in ways he did not like to look at. Yangchen gently set one of his hands down in her lap, so she could focus on one hand at a time for this next, more intense stage of the healing process.

“It’s always your hands,” she muttered in absent-minded annoyance. “You have such nice hands, why are you always damaging them?”

Tayagum made a strangled noise. “Nice hands?”

The question was addressed to Yangchen, but Tayagum’s expression made it clear that it was a threat towards Kavik. Any warmth the older water tribe man had cultivated for Kavik seemed to have been immediately replaced with suspicion.

The Avatar looked up in confusion. Kavik saw the moment she realized the possible implications of what she’d just said.

Boma smiled good-humoredly, “Anything we should know about?”

“I’d actually rather not hear about this, thanks,” said Yingsu.

Kavik’s face burned. Everyone noticed him turn beet red, and he noticed everyone noticing.

Yangchen spluttered. “I meant that his hands are very skillful!" Nope, that wasn’t any better. “—at sleight of hand! And- cheating at sparrow bones, and climbing, and things like that!”

Getting beat up, and cheating at tile games. Truly, Kavik had great skills that made him worthy of serving the Avatar.

Boma and Akuudan were laughing at them.

“Can we just focus on the info we stole?” Kavik snapped.

Still chortling to himself, Boma took the papers out of their folder and spread them out on the table.

The rest of the team began to read. Yangchen switched hands.

***

“Ohhh,” Jujinta said suddenly, much later. “You were implying they had sex.”

The burst of laughter and teasing and general noise that followed this statement was enough to send Pik and Pak flying.

Yangchen supposed that hiding her face in Kavik’s tunic would not help her beat the allegations.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away - Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Title: Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away

Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Pete the Chef OC and Marie OC

WC: 2,917

Warnings: A bit of obsession, maybe stalking maybe not?, Reader is a waitress and is mentioned wearing a skirt for work, teasing, flirting?, serial killer stuff mentioned very briefly, Reader has very brief negative thoughts, age gap, mini angst, and fluff

The uniform beat of the clock was the only sound in the room as it ticked away. It seemed to echo throughout Steve Raglan's office. The silence was unnerving, and the ticking of the clock seemed to be a constant reminder of the fact that time was indeed slowly crawling forward with each minute that passed.

Sitting in his swivel chair, Steve glanced over some client files, occasionally humming to himself as he used his feet to turn himself in his chair; side to side. Letting out a silent sigh, he closed the dull yellow file and sat it on his desk with the others. Pushing up the bridge of his gold-framed aviator glasses, Steve looked up at the clock. Upon reaching his scheduled lunch break, he pushed himself off the chair before grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. Adjusting his tie as he left his office, he walked down the hall, passing other offices before exiting the large building. 

It was a bright afternoon, though Steve hardly noticed as he made his way down the sidewalk, a certain confidence in each step. As he walked, he passed by the local flower shop, which stood beside a small bookstore, before crossing the street and the busy intersection to pass by the park. This was a part of Steve's routine, every weekday since about a couple of months ago. He always left his office at the same time for lunch, passed the same shops and stores, and entered the same diner for that said lunch. 

Pushing the glass door open, Steve walked in, only to sit down at his usual spot. Though the restored diner from the 1960s was practically in new shape, the edges of the red leather booth where Steve sat were beginning to peel from age. The menu board was still hung up behind the counter, along with other posters, antique metal signs of cars, and other things that had been in the diner longer than Steve cared to really care about. The jukebox in the corner was softly playing a song, ‘Put Your Head On My Shoulder,’ a song by Paul Anka. The walls were a pastel blue, red, and white, with some white tile detailing here and there. 

Going to the diner was routine for him, as said before, he went there every weekday to get his lunch. But he didn't go because the food was out of this world, or to appreciate the aesthetic of the place or anything like that. No, he came for you. 

You were a waitress at the tiny diner, dressed in the typical 1960s waitress attire, you scurried to the awaiting people, pouring their drinks and serving their food. Sure, there were other waitresses there, but they weren't you. No, there was something special about you that made Steve want to come there every day for the sake of seeing you. You were beautiful, with bright, sparkling eyes, and soft lips that spoke words so sweetly. You just gave off a feeling that made you stand apart, an aura of warmth and affection. So Steve took a liking to you. And he couldn't understand why he did, no matter how hard he tried. He just felt drawn to you. Like magnetite to a magnet.

Walking out of the backroom, you froze, seeing Steve sitting in his usual booth, hands clasped, looking out the window. Letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, you felt your heart begin to race. Oh, what that man did to you, even just his presence alone brought a smile to your face. Brushing down your waitress skirt, you didn't bother to grab your notepad and pen from your skirt pocket as you walked over. You knew his order well. Well enough that you had it memorized; a BLT and a cup or two of black coffee.

Stepping in front of the table, the man looked up, your smile softened slightly, "Good afternoon, Steve. Do you want your usual?" You asked, and what you had asked him practically every day since he came into the little diner a couple of months ago. 

The man gave you a small grin back, his clasped hands shifting slightly, making you look down at the movement; his sleeves were pushed back above his elbows, strong forearms exposed. Steve noticed your gaze, his eyes glancing down at your mouth as you bought your bottom lip in between your teeth, "Good afternoon, Y/N. Yes, I would like my usual." He answered, his words making you look back into his blue eyes before you cleared your throat nervously.

You gave him a nod, bits of stray hairs falling in front of your face as you did so, "... Alright, I'll make sure that it arrives soon." With one last look at him, brushing the stray hairs behind your ears, you headed towards the kitchen. 

Steve watched you go, staring after you until you disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. He sighed quietly as he leaned back in his seat. Meanwhile, you leaned against the wall near the kitchen door, letting out a breath as you pressed your hand on your chest, feeling your racing heart pound and hammer against your chest. Taking one last breath, you got a hold of yourself, pushing through the large kitchen to find Pete, the chef. 

Peering past a metal counter, you smiled at the old man who was mixing some sort of salad, "Hey, Pete," You grinned, "We got a seven and a black coffee." You spoke, gaining the man's attention. Pivoting his weight to his hip, he placed a hand there, tilting his head as he took in your expression; but mostly your eyes. He could tell that something was going on. 

"He's here, isn't he?" Pete asked, watching your face flush, as you glanced and looked everywhere but at him, his grin widened. 

"Yeah, Pete, he is. Can I please just get his order? Please, no teasing." You begged with a slight whine to your voice.

Pete, an old man in his sixties, had been working at the diner since he was in his twenties; and had been sort of a cool uncle figure to you, only shrugged his shoulders. Turning back around, he began to prepare Steve's order. "Sure thing, dearie," He replied softly, chuckling lightly. "You should probably head over and get him his coffee, don't want Marie to get to him before you do. She won't be so merciful."

Nodding your head you rushed out of the kitchen, heading behind the counter, passing Marie, who only grinned as you passed by her. Pouring the black coffee, you let out one last breath, mentally hyping yourself up before you walked back over to Steve. 

He raised his head, meeting your eyes as you carefully sat the coffee down in front of him. "Thank you, Y/N." He spoke, giving you the same small smile that made you want to melt. 

"You're welcome, Steve. Is there anything else you'd like while you wait? We just added a blueberry pie to the menu this morning." You asked, but the man just shook his head, his intense gaze unmoving as he gave you a small toothy grin.

"No, I'm alright."

Nodding, you gestured back to the kitchen, "I'll, uh, go check up on your food then."

Rushing back to the kitchen, you found Marie inside, Pete still working on the bacon portion of Steve's order. Marie turned to you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "He's here." She sang in a soft sing-song voice, smirking.

Throwing your hands up, you huffed, "Yes, that's quite obvious. He's here every day at twelve-thirty on the dot." You retorted.

Marie laughed, shaking her head, "I just find it funny is all."

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Pete began to chop up a tomato. "What's funny?"

"That you get so flustered around him." She answered, making you look down at your feet.

Marie had been your best friend since you were both in high school. She had been in the same few classes with you, and the both of you had gotten along great, even going to the same college. Later, you both tried going your separate ways, but this town had some pull on the both of you - so you both ended up working at the diner after a while of job searching. She was usually the voice of reason, the one you looked up to whenever you had a difficult question or task. She really was a great friend.

"I try not to be." You answered simply, turning to Pete, "Is his sandwich ready?" You asked as the man nodded, stabbing the red foil-tipped toothpick in the center of the bread; topping it all off. 

“This might be the best one yet.” Pete marveled, staring down at his sandwich with pride, but without another word, you grabbed the plate with the BLT and pushed the kitchen door open.

Walking over with his food, you felt your irritation fade away as Steve looked up, his grin growing. Placing the food down in front of him, you noticed that his coffee cup was empty. Gesturing to it, you spoke, "Would you like a refill?"

"Yes, thank you," He spoke, watching as you quickly grabbed the coffee pot from the counter across from him, pouring more of the coffee into his cup. "How has your day been, Y/N?" He asked, you had been preparing yourself for today's conversation.

"It's been alright," You said, your voice soft. A nervous chuckle escaped you before you continued, "Just trying to keep busy. How's everything with you?" You asked, hoping to change the subject a bit.

“The same as usual, I'm afraid." He answered, similar to what he told you every time you asked him how he was.

"Well," You cleared your throat, "I'll let you eat. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" You asked, smiling slightly, giving him one last look before walking back to the counter.

"Of course..." He muttered, mostly to himself, watching as you slid behind the counter with your co-worker, grabbing a rag and beginning to clean the marble with it. 

Looking down at the table, his sandwich seemed to stare right up at him. Picking it up with both hands, he bit into his BLT, taking a moment before letting his eyes wander the room before they settled on you once more. Watching as you talked with your co-worker, a smile on your face and hers. The co-worker occasionally glanced over at him, making him turn back to stare at his table, chewing his sandwich slowly. Straining his ears, he tried to listen in on your conversation.

"He's staring at you again," Marie spoke under her breath, "It's kind of creepy." 

Hitting her arm with the rag, you lightly glared at her, "Don't be rude. Or too loud… He might hear you…" 

"What?" She asked defensively, "It is, he's looking at you like a creep."

"And what about that? Should I be worried?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow as you went back to rubbing at the counter in front of you. “I think it’s sweet,” You muttered, and Marie didn’t seem to notice.

Sighing, she shook her head, crossing her arms, "I mean, maybe? Who knows? Maybe he's some serial killer."

You sputtered a laugh, raising your hand to cover your mouth, "You're ridiculous, Marie. He may be a bit… Antisocial, but that does not mean he’s some crazy murderer.”

Marie sighed again, glancing back over at him, "He’s still staring."

"I doubt it." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I'm not someone to stare at."

Marie stared at you, raising her eyebrow, "Girl, you're gorgeous. Shut up. And he is, look."

Rolling your eyes at her, you worried on your lip as you glanced over at him, noticing that he was indeed staring at you. It wasn't hard to notice that fact, with how much his eyes were locked onto yours, especially when you could almost feel them piercing through you. Your cheeks flushed with heat, as your stomach twisted and flipped. You dipped your head, biting into your lip with a bit more force so as not to let the growing smile slip onto your face.

"I might do something risky," You muttered, your voice soft, breathless. Marie noticed, raising both her eyebrows this time in surprise. “I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while…”

"Oh, wow, he's really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he? You're whipped."

You shook your head, twisting the rap between your hands, straining your fingers slightly with the force, "No, I'm not."

"You're whipped. Smitten. Absolutely enamored. You've got the hots for this guy." She continued to tease, making you let out a deep sigh, tossing the rag down on the counter. "What are you planning to do exactly, hon?" She then asked, noticing that she really wasn't helping you in this situation.

"I might give him my number." You muttered, taking a quick glance over to see him finishing his coffee; plate clean. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile, taking in his perfect features. His dark hair, sprinkled with gray, looked so soft. It looked like it would be great to run your fingers through it. Your hand moved to the front of your head, pulling on a loose strand of hair before returning it behind your ear. You wondered, as you stared at him, if his beard would be soft or rough... “Oh God...” You murmured under your breath.

Marie took a step forward, placing a hand on your arm, snapping your gaze back to her, "Hon... Uh, you don't have to listen to me… But isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

You tilted your head at her, confusion etching onto your face, "Too old?"

She nodded her head, "Yea, y'know, he's like forty or fifty or somethin'. There’s a pretty big age gap between you two.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, your lips parted slightly, sort of speechless. "Marie... I don't care how old he is... I don't care about age gaps. If I was like eighteen, then yeah, that would be a problem to me, but I am twenty-five... I just... I don't know… As long as we are two consenting adults… I- uh…" You trailed off. “You’re stressing me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Marie smiled sweetly, patting you on the shoulder gently, "Don't mind me then. I just want you to be a bit cautious… That is, unless he's super rich, then I say go for it.” You shook your head, letting out a small chuckle, before nodding your head towards the man in question.

"I should check on him. His lunch break is almost over." Marie watched you go, sighing before she left for the kitchen. Walking over, Steve sat his empty coffee cup down, looking up at you with a small grin, a strange glint in his eyes. "Ready for the bill, Steve?" You asked.

"I believe so," He sighed, grabbing into his jacket pocket beside him to grab his wallet. "Same as always?" He asked, and you hummed in confirmation. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, trying to ignore the sudden tingling feeling in your stomach at the contact. Stuffing the ten in your pocket, you pulled out a ten dollar bill. But, Steve only shook his head, “You keep that.”

Nodding with a small, grateful smile, you nodded, “Thank you, Steve.”

Shaking his head, he stood, "You don’t have to thank me. Your service was excellent, as always." He said simply, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Thank you," You muttered softly, blinking rapidly before you stuffed the money into your pocket, quickly opening your notepad and writing something down.

Steve watched you curiously as he adjusted the collar of his coat before you ripped the paper from the small notebook and handed it to him; unable to meet his gaze. He opened it slowly, his eyes reading and rereading the number - he could only assume it was your number - that you had haphazardly written down for him; though you were quick to write it, it was still neat and Steve could read it easily. Looking up at you, you finally managed to glance back up at him.

Folding the note, Steve slid it in his pocket, "I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked simply, watching as you nodded. He hummed, glancing around the features of your face before he found himself raising his hand, brushing the stubborn wisps behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lingering a second too long on the softness of your cheek before he pulled away. Your eyes widened a fraction, your lips opening slightly as a small, inaudible gasp left you. Steve swallowed thickly, swiftly turning on his heel before he lost what little control he had over himself, walking out of the diner, the door shutting behind him.

Standing there, you stared after him, letting out a sigh. What was that? Not that you were complaining. You slowly raised your hand, brushing your fingers along the same trail that he had touched moments ago, feeling the warmth. He had been so gentle and careful and... So warm. It felt good. You couldn't help but smile lightly. You hoped that he'd call you.

And he would. You'd be hearing from him soon. Very soon.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

Nancy Wheeler has always considered herself to be a practical kind of person. She keeps to her schedule, she gets her work done, she makes good decisions for her future. That’s why she can’t believe she’s ended up here, stuck at a minimum wage job at the new Starcourt Mall.

If she’s really honest with herself, Nancy can admit that it was a little bit of wishful thinking and a lot of overconfidence that led her here. She’d applied for a really competitive internship out in Indianapolis for the summer and she’d been so sure she was going to get it. Her application was impeccable and she’d thought the interview had gone so well that she’d quit her after school job at the Hawkins Post that same day. All she’d been allowed to do there was order the office lunches and make coffee on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays anyway, so it wasn’t like it was some kind of great loss to her. She’d practically added a line to the resume that was sitting in her desk drawer just waiting to be turned in to college admissions offices in the fall. 

And then the call hadn’t come. She’d waited two weeks and then finally given in and called the Indianapolis Star to ask about the status of her application. She’d held the phone in a white knuckle grip as the man on the other end had told her that, while she’d certainly been impressive in her interview, they’d decided to go in a different direction. They’d be sure to keep her in mind for any future positions, he’d assured her. She’d said “thank you” and slammed the phone back into its cradle; she knew exactly what men like that meant when they used the words “different direction.”

So now, Nancy Wheeler was trudging out to the new mall all the way across town everyday, wearing a ridiculous sailor costume and slinging ice cream alongside Eddie Munson, Hawkins High’s resident drug dealer and repeat senior. If anyone asked her--not that they ever would--she’d tell them this was far stranger than watching a demogorgon rip its way through the walls of the Byers house. Stranger by a long shot.

~*~

Eddie Munson’s not sure how he got here. He’d had a good thing going with Reefer Rick. Decent weed, a place to crash when he didn’t feel like sleeping at the trailer, and a pretty great gig that paid the bills.

And then Rick had to go and get himself arrested. Without Rick, Eddie’s supply completely dried up and he had no other real connections in this shitty little town. So what was a guy to do? He couldn’t lay around the trailer all day. He had tapes to buy and gigs to get to. It wasn’t like he could go an entire summer without a cash flow. He’d only really had one option: the new shining temple to the great evils of Capitalism.

That’s how he found himself pulling on the most demeaning sailor uniform in existence every morning and taking his place next to Nancy Wheeler, the princess of Hawkins, behind the counter at Scoops Ahoy, preparing for a summer full of obnoxious tweens and their even more obnoxious mothers. It was going to be a long three months.

~*~

“Where’s Nancy?”

Eddie sighs, but doesn't take his eyes off the Rolling Stone he’s flipping through at the counter. Thank god for whoever’d left it at their table earlier this afternoon.

“Would it hurt you to be polite? What happened to ‘hello’? ‘How are you?’ ‘Could you please tell me where my sister is?’” Eddie says, finally looking up from his magazine to see little Wheeler scowling at him. Mike reaches over to slam his palm against the bell on the counter, something he knows drives Eddie absolutely insane.

“Hi, hello, how are you? Would you be so kind as to tell me where my darling sister is?” Mike responds, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Eddie sighs again, then calls out, “Wheeler, your demon spawn are here.”

Nancy comes shoving through the door to the backroom with clean ice cream scoops in one hand and a box of little pink sample spoons in the other. Her scowl matches Mike’s.

“I’m not letting you use our mall access for another free movie. Grow up, Mike,” she says, before Mike or his friends can even say anything.

“Come on, Nance, please?” Mike whines. “Will wants to see Day of the Dead and you know we can't get tickets for it.”

Eddie’s eyes shift from Mike to Will, who’s making the biggest, sweetest angel eyes over at Nancy. Eddie can’t help but snort; these kids are good.

“Ugh, fine! But this is the last time.” Nancy shoves the ice cream scoops into their slots by the coolers and then slides the box of spoons toward Eddie, who ignores them. Eddie watches as Nancy leads the kids into the back room. He’s flipped through a couple of more pages of his magazine before she’s back.

“You just got played, Wheeler,” he tells her as she opens the spoons Eddie had left untouched.

“Will’s... been through a lot. He deserves to see a damn movie.” Nancy doesn’t seem like she wants to elaborate on what she means by that, so Eddie lets it drop.

“How’d you end up here at Scoops anyway? Doesn’t seem like something Nancy Wheeler of all people would be that in to.”

Nancy sighs. “Thought I was gonna get this perfect internship in Indianapolis, but... I didn’t, obviously. My options were limited by the time school ended.” She works on replacing the spoons for a moment, before she says, “What about you? Red, white, and blue don’t really seem like your colors, no offense.”

“None at all taken, Wheeler,” Eddie smirks. “Let’s just say, I’m not that interested in seeing what the inside of a jail cell looks like right now.”

Nancy hums in response but doesn’t ask him to elaborate. Eddie knows his reputation often precedes him. He’s kind of into that, anyway. 

Nancy rounds the counter with a rag to start cleaning sticky puddles of melted ice cream off the tables and Eddie returns to his magazine. They work in silence for the remainder of their shift.

~*~

Two days later, Eddie’s back behind the counter with that same Rolling Stone he keeps stashed under the cash register. He’s read the damn thing front and back so many times, he’s practically got it memorized.

“Hey, is Nance here?”

Eddie doesn’t have to look up to know who’s asking, but he does anyway. His eyes snap up to meet Steve Harrington’s gaze and he can feel his own heart racing a mile a minute. Of course the first time Eddie sees Steve Harrington after graduation, he’s wearing these stupid fucking sailor shorts. He feels his cheeks burning red.

“Uh, she’s on break. You need something?” Nancy usually takes her break in the back room, but today she’d apparently forgotten to bring her lunch, so she's gone out to the food court.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, just two scoops of strawberry, please? In a cone,” Steve glances to his left and Eddie becomes aware of the girl standing at his side for the first time. He vaguely recognizes her from school, thinks maybe she plays the trombone or the trumpet or something dorky like that. “You want anything?” Steve nudges the girl with her elbow.

“Can I get the Banana Boat with chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, please? And extra whipped cream,” the girl says.

“That’s for four people,” Eddie tells her, raising his eyebrows.

The girl just smiles and then Steve says, “You've never seen her eat, man, it’s like a snake unhinging its jaw to swallow a baby whole, seriously.” He pulls out his wallet as he speaks. 

Eddie laughs nervously. “I’ll take your word for it. That all?”

Steve smiles, seemingly pleased that Eddie laughed at his joke. “That’s it, man, thanks.”

Eddie tells him the total, takes his money, and then works on the Banana Boat for Robin. He slides it across the counter to her and watches as her eyes light up at the mountain of whipped cream he’d piled on top. Eddie grabs a cone and scoops out some strawberry. And so what if he makes the scoops just a little bigger than he normally would?

Eddie hands the cone to Steve over the counter, their fingertips brushing.

“Thanks,” Steve says, and his pink tongue darts out to catch a piece of ice cream that’s about to fall from the cone. Eddie’s brain short circuits watching him. “Can you tell Nancy we stopped by?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Eddie hopes his voice doesn’t sound as strangled and strained as he thinks it does.

Steve takes another lick from his cone. Eddie’s eyes track the movement hungrily. “Wow, this is great. We’ll definitely be back. See you around?” Steve smiles at him again and Eddie feels like he can’t breathe. He couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, so he just nods and waves, which makes Steve’s smile grow bigger before he’s turning and guiding the girl out of the store and into the busy mall. Eddie watches them go, eyes fixed out the door long after they’ve disappeared from view.

~*~

Nancy sits at the food court and contemplates her life. She’s seventeen years old, working at an ice cream shop, and sneaking her kid brother into R rated movies. How did it all come to this? 

She knew her job at the Hawkins Post had been a dead end. She was supposed to be a journalism intern, but they’d treated her like their own personal assistant and didn’t even allow her to sit in on pitch meetings or read any drafts before they were sent to print. She’d encouraged Jonathan to take on the photography internship and he’d had more access to the actual news writing than she ever had.

Nancy didn’t consider herself a particularly bitter person, but that had left a terrible taste in her mouth. She knew it wasn’t Jonathan’s fault, that it was a flaw in the system not in how Jonathan saw her, but she couldn’t stomach it when he defended the way she was treated. He was always telling her they were interns and they were just lucky to be there. He didn’t get it.

That’s why she hadn’t felt too bad about breaking things off when she’d quit the Post, so sure that she was destined for bigger and better things out in Indianapolis. Nancy loved Jonathan, she really, really did, and they’d been through so much together. But Jonathan’s ambitions had never really matched her own and she couldn’t ask him to wait around for her all summer, not when she wasn't sure she even wanted to come back. Besides, she was seventeen. No one met the love of their life at seventeen.

“Hey, Nance!” Nancy hears someone call to her from across the food court. Her neck snaps up from where she’s been staring at the congealed yellow substance masquerading as cheese on her fries to see Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley walking toward her. Steve’s got a dripping pink cone in his hand and Robin’s got a half eaten Banana Boat. Nancy sighs. She doesn’t like it when people she knows see her in this stupid fucking outfit.

“Hey, Steve,” she says, trying her bast to smile. “How’s it going?”

“Ah, you know, doing this stupid fucking job my dad got me for the summer,” Steve tells her. Nancy had heard something about Steve getting hired at the Post not long after she’d quit. She hadn’t really been able to believe it, but Mr. Harrington pulling some strings for his son made a lot of sense. “This is Robin, she’s another intern there. I think you guys are the same year?”

“Yeah, I know Robin,” Nancy smiles at the girl next to Steve, who seems too preoccupied with the half melted concoction in her hands to really pay attention to Nancy and Steve’s conversation.

“We were just stopping in to Scoops to see you,” Steve tells her. “Thought you were still at the Post, but then Jonathan said you’d quit? Dustin mentioned you were here now.” 

“Yeah, you know, thought I’d get some real-world experience. Make some money. Develop some people skills.” Nancy doesn’t want to admit that she’d made such a huge mistake, doesn't want anyone to know how sure she’d been, only to be shot down in a single phone call. It’s bad enough that Jonathan and Eddie know just how foolish she’d been and she doesn’t even really care what Eddie thinks of her, which is the whole reason she’d even told him in the first place. 

“Right.” Steve gets that little frown line in between his brows that Nancy had once thought was the cutest thing ever, back in another life. “Well, we have to get back so...”

“Yeah, no, me too. Break’s almost over. Can’t leave Munson alone with all that ice cream for too long.” It’s a lame joke. Nancy can relate.

She gathers her half-eaten fast food and heads for the trash can. She tries her hardest not to look back at Steve and Robin as she walks back toward Scoops.

Inspired by this post.

[pinkjellyfishgirl-blog]

Always Read The Papers Before You Sign (Jack in the box mascot X Reade) chapter 2

Summary:

(y/n) gets settled in her new house with Jack. It doesn't go as smoothly as planned.

Jack had in his hand, a small box which was holding a 14-carat diamond ring. (y/n) stumbled back into the wall, she couldn’t believe what just happened. Jack got off the ground and walked towards her with the ring. He took her hand and proceeded to try and put the ring on her finger.

(y/n) jumped and ran away from him. She went behind the desk, trying to build a distance between herself and Jack. Her face was filled with panic. Jack looked at her disappointed.

“What’s wrong? Is the diamond not to your liking?”, he said sadly looking down at the box.

(y/n) couldn’t process what was going on. ‘Did he just ask if the ring was the issue? Not the fact he just proposed to a complete stranger in the backroom of a fast-food chain?!’ she thought to herself. Her ideal proposal really didn’t include her wearing her old unwashed fast-food uniform. She put her hand on her head and tried to calm herself down. She looked back up at Jack, who was watching her every move.

“Sir the ring is not the problem, it’s beautiful in fact!” (y/n) replied hastily.

Jack looked back at her; his smile had returned.

“Please, call me Jack,” he said.

“Well, ‘Jack’ it’s not the ring, it’s the fact that you don’t even know me and I don’t know you. I am truly flattered by your offer but I must decline”, she replied in a soft voice. She didn’t want to piss him off, especially after confessing his love for her.

Jack started to laugh and (y/n) just looked confusedly at him. ‘I guess he has finally gone insane’, she thought frightfully. Probably would have been better if she wasn’t caught in the cross fire of it all. Jack finally started to calm down from his laughing fit. He wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“You really crack me up, you know that little mouse. I guess I should be the one to tell you that there is no way for you to get out of this. That contract you signed gives me the option to financially destroy you in court if you don’t agree to marry me and go through with it”, he told her smugly. “And if that isn’t enough proof”, Jack said than snapped his fingers together.

An army of lawyers came filing into the room. They were all dressed in expensive suits, hungry for a new case. Jack pointed towards the group.

“The best lawyers you can get in the state. So, what do you say? Do you really want to make this harder for yourself,” Jack said as he slowly walked over to her.

(y/n) sank into the seat behind her. There was no possible way she could get out of this arrangement without destroying her life. Even if she did fight him, she could never win against someone like him in court. She let out a long sigh and put out her left hand.

“I would be happy to marry you Jack”, she said looking up at him.

(y/n) didn’t mean it, but what other choice did she have. Her plan so far is just to bide herself sometime until she can make a break for it. Jack takes her hand in his and slips the ring on her finger. His hand was so much bigger than hers, it felt comforting in a way to her.

Jack turns to the group behind them. “She said yes, everyone assemble and roll out”, Jack said sending everyone in a scramble to leave the building.

Jack begins to walk towards the door holding (y/n) hand. He led her out of the office only for them to come to a line of people standing outside. As they walked past, everyone congratulated the new couple. This was all too much for (y/n), she looked up to Jack, he was waving and thanking everyone. ‘Has everyone gone insane,’ she thought to herself worriedly. She was miserable while walking past everyone including her co-workers. They just looked in shock and horror at her. She couldn’t hold eye contact with them.

“What about finishing my shift? I can’t just leave”, (y/n) told Jack as he dragged her out of the restaurant.

“You don’t have to work anymore. I’ll provide everything for you,” he replied cheerfully.

A black car was pulled up a front the entrance of the restaurant. A man exited the car and opened the car door for Jack. Jack pushed (y/n) forward towards the car, putting his hand on her lower back. She didn’t expect his hands on her already. She entered the car and Jack followed soon after. (y/n) looked out of the tinted car window, watching as her old life slowly left her forever. It was all too much for her and tears started to run down her cheeks. She looked over to Jack only to notice he was on the phone. She quickly wiped her tears away.

“No, you don’t understand. I said I wanted the walls to painted blush pink, not baby pink… Can you believe this guy,” Jack said and then hung up the phone. He turned to looked at (y/n).

“Must have a lot of questions, ask away,” he said with a smile.

(y/n) head was full of so many questions, she didn’t know where to start. She was just thinking to herself, ‘Why, why did he pick me? Did he offer this contract to others? Was she just the unlucky one who signed it’. She looked down at her feet.

“Why did you do this? Why did you pick me to marry? I thought you were married already!” She felt her heart strings pull as she spoke. (y/n) had seen Jack’s wife in many commercials, just none of recent. Even if he was single, he probably could have anyone he wants. Why bother tricking a poor woman into marriage.

Jack crossed his legs and thought about her questions for a second. (y/n) looked up from the ground and made eye contact with him.

“Why? Because I know you wouldn’t have said yes any other way. Why you in particular? I have been watching you for some time from a distance, though you never noticed me clearly.” He sounded hurt as he spoke.

“As for my ex-wife, we have been divorced for some time now. We do share custody over our son we had together”, Jack said in a regular chipper manor.

(y/n) let what Jack just told her sink in. He had been actively stalking her was all she could get from those comments. ‘No wonder his wife left him’, she thought to herself. She was a lot luckier than (y/n), stuck in a car with this insane man next to her. Jack had some personality traits and actions which some would call ‘extreme’ but he just likes to think of them as quirks. Everyone has to have some to make it in the world of business.

“I don’t really understand… were you following me around or did I serve you at work and not notice”, she asked nervously. Though anyone would of noticed a man with an ice cream for a head. “Oh don’t worry about all that now… oh look we are driving past your old apartment. Must feel nice to be moving out of there”, he replied, changing the subject.

(y/n) eyes widened. She couldn’t believe it.

“Wait, what!? Why are you taking all my stuff? Where are you taking me?” She yelled at him.

Jack just smiled back at her, seemly unbothered by her upset state. He reached his hand out towards her. She flinched not knowing what to expect but Jack just patted her on the head. (y/n) felt he was more treating her like a child than an adult.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I am having all your items moved into our house together. I think you like it a lot more, your own room and space too”, he said proudly.

Everything in (y/n) world was changing. She couldn’t even be in her own place thanks to the contract. At least she would have her own room and not have to share with Jack. She turned to glance at Jack, his body was muscular which showed even through his suit. “Sharing a room might not of been so bad… what I’m I thinking, he literally kidnapped me!’ She thought hating herself.

Jack noticed her looks towards him. It wouldn’t be long till she is comfortable around him, he just had to be patient.

The car started to slow down as they turned into the driveway of (y/n) new home. It was gigantic compared to anything she has ever lived in. It was a multi-floor house, with a wide front garden and many windows all along the front of the building. It was the American dream home many wanted but will never get.

The car stopped and Jack moved to open the door. He stepped out and offered his hand to (y/n) to take. She slowly took his hand and he led her out the vehicle. She walked around her new surroundings taking everything in. The movers were already taking her things into the house when they arrived.

“It’s a wonderful house you have here Jack”, (y/n) stated trying to make small talk with him.

“Why thank you, it will soon be yours too”, Jack replied back sweetly.

He moved closer to her and put his hand on her lower back. (y/n) felt warm from the touch and didn’t move away from him. Sadly, the moment came to an end when the sound of little feet came running towards them.

“Dad, I have missed you!” A young boy yelled as he ran over to Jack.

“I missed you too Jr!” Jack said as he crouched down to pick up his son.

He looked a lot like Jack, even down to having the same pointed nose as him. He couldn’t have been much older than 10 years old. Jack was talking to his son and (y/n) watched them. He was a lot sweeter here than at the restaurant, it almost made (y/n) forget about it for a moment. She was snapped out of her of thoughts by Jr.

“Who is this lady, Dad?” He said while point at (y/n).

Jack got a bit nervous, something she didn’t ever expect to see.

“Well, she is Dad’s new girlfriend. I told you about her before she was coming to stay with us, kind of like another mommy,” Jack explained to the child.

Jr stared at (y/n) for a moment, he crossed his eyebrows. She started to feel nervous now, she was not informed that she was going to be a step-mom.

“I don’t like you; you will never be like my mom!” He yelled at her.

He jumped from his dad’s arms and ran over to her. (y/n) didn’t expect the next thing, which was a small child leg being rammed into her own knee. The pain was intense, she didn’t expect him to kick her so hard. She had fallen over on the floor, cradling her leg. Jr ran off back into the house and Jack went over to (y/n).

“I am so sorry, I only thought he would slap you at most. Can you walk?” He asked in a worried tone.

(y/n) let out a groan and tried to stand up. It was too sore to walk on.

“I think I’ll live; I just need to rest it for a minute before walking. It’s okay, I used to babysit children all the time, they were crazy”, she replied back in a joking tone.

Jack’s face was filled with worried.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him after I take you in”, Jack softly told her.

Before she could protest Jack picked her up bridesmaid style. He carried her like she weighted nothing. He took her up into the house and up the stairs. It gave (y/n) a chance to see into the house. It was impossibly clean and has a homely interior design aesthetic. She noted the different family photographs on the wall. Jack stopped outside a door which she expected to be her room.

Jack opened the door and placed her down on the plush double bed. (y/n) lied down on the soft mattress, trying to get comfy.

“I’ll let you get settled in. I need to talk to my son, but if you are up later on, we should talk more,” Jack said in a caring tone.

He waited a minute before leaving, as if he wanted to say something else but didn’t. He soon left, leaving her alone in the bedroom. The room was filled with her items from home neatly place in the room. There wasn’t much for her to do as she couldn’t walk, so she stripped down her work uniform off and went under the covers. So much had happened to (y/n) in only one day, so she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

The next morning she was awoke by running footsteps up and down the stairs. She slowly stretched her leg to find it had healed significantly over the night. She got up from her bed and went researching for some clothes. Her pajamas were all placed neatly in a draw and she took a pair.

(y/n) got dressed and left her room to see what was going on. Walking down stairs she found Jack and Jr talking to each other. Jack turned to look at her and walked over to give her a big hug. (y/n) blush from the contact, he felt so much taller than she was.

“Good morning little mouse, how is your leg doing?” He asked concerned for her.

Jr had gone back to watching cartoons on the TV instead of speaking to her.

“Morning, I’m doing a lot better today actually,” she replied sheepishly.

She scratched the back of her neck nervously. Why couldn’t she concentrate around him?

“I know this is ridiculous to ask but can you watch Jr for a bit. A work meeting came up and I have to attend it”, he asked her kindly.

(y/n) know the kid didn’t like her so probably better to get someone else to watch him. But as this was a last-minute resort, she understood the situation he was in. It would give her well needed bonding time with Jr and gives her something to do.

“Okay, I’ll watch him. I am sure we will be best friends by the time you get back.” (Y/n) said in a chipper voice.

“Great, then it’s all sorted… Also, if you think of running away while I am away, I will track you. There are security cameras all over the property and body guards to watch you,” Jack said seriously. She was sweating now. There was the scary Jack he was known for being coming out like always. She let out a sigh.

“Well, I’m off, have fun,” Jack said as he bounced out of the front door.

It was just (y/n) and Jr. She decided to join him on the coach and see what he was watching. He was fixated on it.

“Hey Jr, do you want me to fix you anything for breakfast?” She asked smiling at him.

She was trying to put the whole attacking her yesterday behind them. She really didn’t want to end up a pulp by the time the day was over. Jr looked back at her annoyed. “No, I don’t want anything from you.” He said and then stuck out his tongue at her.

Well, that didn’t work at all.

“Come on, I just want to get to know you. Your dad said we had to spend some time together inside,” She said now was a fake smile on to cover up her annoyance. “You know what we can do, lets go outside and play!” He said with a happy smirk.

Jr knew that if you both left the house without security (y/n) would be in a lot of trouble. He jumped out from his seat and ran off. (y/n) ran after him, she didn’t want to be killed by Jack for losing his only son.

“Why don’t we just play inside, we can do whatever you want!” She yelled behind him.

She was trying to plead with him. They were going to already break the first rule Jack had set up and it was not even 10 minutes since he had left.

Jr unlocked the back door before (y/n) could stop him and he was sprinting off into the woods behind their house. She ran after him, trying not to lose him. ‘God, I really think I am a bad babysitter. He could get hurt in there,” she thought in a panic. She entered the woods trying to keep up with Jr but she couldn’t. She stopped to catch her breath. She panicked and started to call out his name. “Jr! Jr! This isn’t funny anymore where are you?!” (y/n) said in a worried voice.

There was a commotion heard up ahead, so she ran towards the sound. Her feet were sore from running bare foot on the ground. She cursed through the pain and kept going. When she arrived at the noise, she saw Jr being held by a big strange man. (y/n) ran over to start fighting the man when she got hit on the head hit on the head with a piece of metal. She fell to the floor like a bag of bricks. She started to get up but she couldn’t. She tried her best to stay conscious. The sound of Jr cries filled the air. The last thing she saw was a pair of large red shoes walking in front of her before she passed out.

If you enjoyed this chapter please leave a like, thank you! ❤️

[phoneybologna]

Do you think Charlie had to run out to buy that maid outfit or does the office just have that available in case a job calls for it. If the office had the maid suit, I'm wondering if everyone has a maid suit custom made for them or if it's one shared maid outfit. As I'm typing , I realized that I could send pictures anonymously. Can I send you a drawing of Mr. Boss and the crew in the shared maid outfit so you can see my vision?

i would like to believe that the smiling friends office has several outfits/uniforms in a backroom in case they're needed for a job, including custom fitted maid dresses. jic. i mean i don't think pim could've worn that charlie-sized dress (or like, cartoon logic) but it's a funny idea lmao. also yes PLEASE send me your vision i need to see this

[phykios]

have a silly little ficlet dump that will go nowhere

It was a glorious spring morning on Olympus when she realized that she hadn’t attended a mortal ball in quite some time. This was not, in and of itself, an odd thing–Annabeth, goddess of architecture, was not exactly someone who particularly enjoyed balls any more. In the early days, it had been exciting, mingling with those whom she had recently departed, quietly basking in their awed gazes and flowery praises.

The novelty, though, had quite worn off some hundred years back.

Still, there was something in the spring air, high above London, that made her reconsider. It was the season, after all, and Aphrodite practically glowed as she floated around the halls of the gods, given new strength and power from the sheer volume of mortal matchmaking in the city below. Some of it must have rubbed off on her, because she agreed to join the goddess of love down in the city on her invitation, to observe the latest mortal drama.

“It’s been a fine, fine season,” Aphrodite said, as they walked into the ballroom, arm in arm, as though they were much closer companions than they truly were. “Ah,” she sighed, her eyes fluttering. “My, the romance in this room! Finer than any wine, more powerful than any song!”

And she flounced off, tittering, the smell of roses nearly overpowering in her wake. Leaving Annabeth quite alone.

That was fine. She didn’t mind, terribly.

She took her turns with a variety of young men, army officers all. Some of them had the air of Ares or Mars about them, and it didn’t take long for Annabeth to notice the god himself, skulking about in backrooms, waiting for his illicit lover. Is that why Aphrodite had insisted on Annabeth’s company?

Before she could dwell too deeply on it, she had a new partner in her arms, and it was only a testament to her centuries of existence that she did not gasp upon seeing him.

The hair. The face. Those eyes. It couldn’t be.

The man bowed over her hand, the picture of courtesy. “Good evening, lady.”

She swallowed, imperceptible to mortal senses. “Good evening.”

“May I have the distinct pleasure of your name?” He grinned up at her, roguish and slanted, and her heart shook.

“Only if I have yours first,” she shot back. She needed time, time to calm herself. What an odd sensation, requiring time.

“Of course.” Straightening up, he stood tall and proud in his uniform, his deep blue coat brushed to perfection, his Trafalgar medal shining. “Lieutenant Jackson, of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. And you are…?”

“…Miss Chase,” she said, splitting the difference. She would not give this man her name. Not yet.

There was a flicker in his eyes, something that could be recognition–or could be something else entirely. “A pleasure, Miss Chase, a great pleasure indeed.”

[crimsonblackrose]

.

Miguel dream time. Look at our boy defending his title also trying to survive and come back to us, fighting for his life in his subconscious.

It's been 2 weeks. I also can't believe a reporter is allowed to talk about it from within the school. KVTL 3's Maria Michael's interviews concerned mom Liz Matthews, Leonard Johnson (local resident who brings up the fight at the mall), and Moon singing with some friends in a peace circle.

We don't have to punch, hey, let's go grab some lunch and be friends.

Johnny's spent 4 hours at Frankie O's bar and grill, whose staff uniform looks like Rugby polos. Which seems to be based off teh pins the staff are wearing an Italian themed bar and grill which is kinda funny. I cannoli You with a heart, don't get saucy with me, ask me about my huge meatballs.

Johnny doesn't want to pay for a light beer because he ordered banquets and thinks light beer is not cool. So if they give him the right tab he will pay and leave.

Like I get the, you're at a bar, we're going to watch a game. But to turn it to the game to watch one minute and then make fun of the news where a kid's in a coma and then leave after the one minute is just...rude.

Johnny just is looking for a fight, punching the guys window in. Bud, this is the guys car, he loves his car, like you normally do. This is dumb, but I also know Johnny literally wants to fight someone. Though this is also terrifying. Some drunk guy punches in your window, puts you in a choke hold and drags you out of your car. I know he wants a fight because he lets the guy go.

I also love Johnny's: Kicking your ass, (is too drunk and misses) oh shit.

Johnny's barbie meme:

Sam suspended for 2 weeks is probably for the best for her own safety as much as it sucks.

Stingray is on probation and not allowed within 500 feet of kids, which since last we saw him he was in a backroom with Kreese and a bunch of kids seems...shocking. Maybe they charged him with it later????

Omg hug not hits, Counselor Blatt are you Moons mom????

So you're solution is to hug kids? They would hug each other.

Karate footloose, yeah Daniel.

Who on earth would've said "bullshit I heard you were teh real bully?" Daniel literally was bullied. Who are you random person in the audience, I need names and background and to rant to you why you're wrong.

Sam was suspended because "She was tramping around with that other girls boyfriend."

Seriously who is the the gossip tree at this school? The answers are all wrong.

Again, it was an accident.

We have police officer Lou. I love the "drug addict, drug addict, holy shit, applebee's guy." Hey, fernandez how do you even know that Robby is Johnny's son. And how dare you say 'guess the garbage doesn't fall far from the truck."

Like Daniel's getting it bad because he taught Robby, but Johnny's getting it worse because it's his son who hurt his student, so he's getting it from both angles.

Johnny sticks up for Robby, "Robby's nothing like me." aka accepting he's garbage but not that Robby is. He's a good kid. And Johnny understands it was a mistake and that it shouldn't end Robby's future.

Fernandez being mean by lying that Miguel is dead, thus sending Johnny into a panic.

I just realized, Sam was expelled for 2 weeks, but according to the news reporter, it's been two weeks, so her parents went to the PTA the night before she was to go back to school to complain then? Come on LaRusso's go in as soon as they tell you and you know Sam is safe, why'd you both wait so long?

Eli, some day should take Sam to get a tattoo over her scars.

Day one round 2, does this mean all the kids who fought got 2 week suspensions?

How very Daniel of Demetri.

Aisha leaving and going to private school is such a bummer.

Moon: I feel bad for Sam her and Aisha were friends since they were little.

Moon, I'm not sure how Aisha feels about the fight, let alone about her Miguel getting kicked off a landing because both boys were fighting to stop her and Tory, Aisha's other friend, from hurting each other. Like Aisha tried to stop the fight and was ignored.

I don't fully understand the backpack security when the weapon in the fights were karate...like literally just the students bodies. It's definitely security theater.

Our LaRussos are at one of their other locations. Not North Hollywood.

Louie...really? It's really telling that he has to preface that it's not porn, like he just excitedly tells them hey look at this and it's inappropriate.

They rehired Louie and he was the first one to their door to help when Sam got hurt, which kudos to good uncle Louie. Louie hates the cranberry bagels,bought bagels for everyone, he also worked at Fat Sal's (a restaurant) over the summer where he learned everything about inventory. Dude leveled up after they fired him.

They are missing a 1993 Dodge Grand Caravan. Which is incorrect. Wrong car.

Robby stole a car and he had the gate codes. Louie: Why steal that shitbox.

Louie would've stolen a ferrari.

I guess Daniel and Amanda talked to lawyers about Robby's situation. If he turns himself in it's better than if the cops find him first, which would've been good I think for Johnny to know.

A+++ Bail Bonds is the company that got Johnny out. And dropped him off West Valley General.

Miguel is fighting, he needs his sensei.

Rosa talks to Miggy about the Dodgers and has her rosery.

Miguel is in ICU so Johnny can't visit. Caroline Wilson, the nurse, is not letting him through. The flirting is not going to work.

Robby ditched the LaRusso auto GPS. Smart kid

I am glad that Johnny ditches the fake a doctor thing when he clearly is too roughed up and in a mess to be a doctor let alone one with a name he can't pronounce.

Though the choice to injure himself to ensure he can see there and support Miggy...

It's interesting that Daniel thinks Robby would be at Mr. Miyagi's, because that's where Daniel would go and feel safe. However that last time Daniel interacted with Robby he chewed Robby out and pretty much gave the you're evil like your dad speech. So there's no way Robby would come near anything Daniel related other than the auto shop to steal a car that wouldn't be missed. It's no longer a safe comfort spot for Robby.

It is a comfort spot though for Sam.

Nurse we made need to keep him over night for this one thing. Johnny eh that's fine, but this big giant bruise on my back? That's bothering me.

It does suck that the person Miguel needed couldn't be there to help him that much. But kudos to Johnny for finding a way in to be there and to tell Miguel to keep fighting and to not give up.

There are two nurses super concerned for Johnny's health somewhere only to realize they've lost him.

Oof Daniel going to Cobra kai, he didn't get the memo that Kreese stole the dojo.

Kreese added: Fear does not exist in this dojo.

The return of the Kreese cut outs.

I like Daniel's 'the hell?"

Also I just realized that by losing the dojo, Johnny probably lost most of his trophies too.

That's new:

so are the sais and all the other weapons on the walls

The dojo is closed going through some renovations, aka weeding out anyone who won't study under Kreese and accept him as the new sensei. And of course, putting his face everywhere he can.

No wonder Daniel doesn't believe Johnny half the time. Kreese says Johnny's not there at the moment, but he'll be back. When in reality it's not Johnny's choice.

Kreese there is no Johnny and you.

The don't you ever answer your phone? Oh god what happened to you. I bumped my head.

ABOUT TIME DANIEL. You needed to loop Johnny in on stuff related to Robby like 2 seasons ago.

Also always here for them to team up.

MIGGGGYYYYY

[sirro85-blog]

Tales of the Dark Horses.

Captain Becca 2nd in Command of the Dark Horses Mercenary unit stared at the object in her hands, so familiar and yet strangely alien to her at this time of stress. She tapped her finger on the guard and looked up taking a deep breath to fortify her nerves.

Becca stepped forward and looked at the door to the quartermaster's stores. As she raised her hand she paused to study the painted wooden door; as she would expect of Major Kovac's base it was freshly painted but it was obvious whomever had done the job hadn't stripped or prepared the door first causing the paint to blister and crack. A minor thing but surprising for any of Kovac's Dark Horses. Becca pushed open the door.

The lights in the storefront were dimmed enabling Becca to see into the backroom of the QM's office, Major Kovac for once not wearing uniform was lounging on an old burst sofa, his bare foot resting on the corner of a low table. Leaning against him, possibly asleep was Sergeant Knickers, Captain Becca's 2IC. Sitting opposite them in a large relaxing chair of faded and shredded leather was Lisa the Quarter Master of the Dark Horses, ruddy faced and squat (possibly as broad as she was tall) she was wearing her ever present leather waistcoat, complete with her archaic pencil attached by a piece of string.

Lisa appeared to be smiling fondly at the two soldiers as she finished pouring herself a mug of tea. Kovac turned his head to look at Becca as she stood in the doorway and nodded to make the QM aware of her presence.

The QM stood and with a glower at Becca stomped into the front office, she leant her knuckles on her worktop and leaned forward. "Stilts?" The QM never called anyone by their rank or name.

"A requisition order for equipment and uniforms," Becca swallowed and continued, "I've itemised and prioritised them, some are for the troop others are for the Squadron as a whole Quatermaster."

Becca didn't know what eldritch power the QM possessed but something about the short, rotund woman with the greasy red hair terrified the Captain, her obvious displeasure at Becca's simple presence made her very gaze baleful.

"Bex, come join us," called Kovac.

Becca closed her eyes and offered a prayer to any gods who might receive her.

"Yeah come on Bex," called Knickers.

Unsure if she would ever breathe again Becca walked forward stiffly, passing a handswidth from the QM Becca had a moments surprise as she smelled lavender from the woman rather than dried blood as she expected. After she passed the QM Becca realised there was nowhere to sit, so stood awkwardly by the couch. The QM passed her, returning to her own throne, Becca worried that she'd lost all sensation on her right side as the QM passes that side.

"Stilts is too tall to be in here," growled the QM.

"Oh knock it off mother, she's 6 inches shorter than I am," Kovac said.

"Exactly, that's 12 feet of people in my lounge." A vague gesture at Knickers, "Sweet and you are alright Troop but add another body and it makes the place look untidy."

"Be nice to Bex, Lees, she's starting to sway, I think Captains Wolf and Dorman are coming here too with the Sergeant Major." Knickers said.

"Better put some water on mother," said Kovac - they weren't related, though it was a term Kovac used for the QM and none other.

"No point, I only own three bloody cups."

Hearing this Kovac closed his eyes and smiled and then looked upwards muttered under his breath, "of course you fucking do." He stood, and moving across the room kissed the hairline on the round woman's head, "never change RQ, never do that to me."

Kicking on his thong-sandles Kovac strolled past Becca to the door, "we'll relocate to my office."

Kovac and Knickers were the only two out of uniform, the others; Becca, Captain Dorman and Wolf and Sergeant Major Chloe aka "Panther" and sergeants Fluke and Glover were all in uniform. Even for Becca who was Kovac's partner it seemed odd to see him in anything but military dress. He was in an unusual mood too, strangely glib and appeared disinterested.

"Apologies sir, is there a better time for us to do this?" Becca asked, irritated as the Major toyed with a pocket knife.

Suddenly Kovac was sitting at his desk, his face intense. He swept his gaze across the faces of his subordinate officers and senior NCOs, "we're lost."

The matter of fact statement was met with silence, "we fought in a nasty war, we did nasty things. The mask slipped and we didn't get to see ourselves as noble heroes we saw behind the curtain and it turns out we're killers."

He gestured around the room, "we've all been guilty of it, humans are the protectors of the galaxy, cosmic heroes who fly in on a spaceship and win the battles for the vulnerable and protecting the peace. Then we used chemical weapons to win the war against the Xhost. Millions dead and Billions; Trillions maybe, saved.

Kovac gave a shrug, "what difference is there between killing someone with a rifle than with White Phosphorous?"

Becca looked at her fellow officers faces, they were blank.

Kovac closed his eyes, "it has always saddened me that humans made contact with the rest of the galaxy and it was our war fighting, our savage nature that made us. How few of humanity's contributions to the Galaxy have been anything non-military?"

"We all joined the military for different reasons, some of us have family history, others wanted to see the galaxy, a few of us made the decision based on poverty and wanting to avoid starvation or incarceration. Whatever the reason we've ended up soldiers hoping to do good things, wanting to be heroes, when the feeling comes to you that you might be the villains the glamour slips away and you're left to see what we really are. Paid killers."

"The Xhost campaign, what we did...it was all necessary sir" Captain Mark Dorman said, rather forcefully.

"I know Captain, I was the one that ordered it, the issue is our perception." Kivac glanced around the room, "so much of our cultural heritage, our heroes of myths and legends are war fighters, the Song of Roland, Thermopylae, Captain America, Rambo..." he gestured vaguely to indicate he couldn't think of many others currently. "Warriors all, sadly the reality isn't as good as the myths and legends."

Captain Becca was watching her fellow Sublalterns, none of them looked happy. "What's your point sir?"

"That war is terrible, its awful and anyone who tells you differently is selling something. We get sold a glittering ideal and then up closewe find its caked in the blood and shit of friends and lovers." He sighed, "to borrow a phrase, war crimes...all wars are crimes. You're either a perpetrator or a victim but it's still a crime you're involved in."

Major Kovac stood up, he looked more animated than he had done in weeks. His gaze swept across the captains and their sergeants. "The scales have fallen, some of our men; most of our men are realising that what we do is take and end lives. Others put there come in after and save lived, they heal and rebuild. We are killers, destroyers and wreckers. If they can't come to peace with that then they will need to make a decision."

"The malaise has gone on long enough, get out there and drill them, beast them, get them too tired to think and too obsessed with their skills and drills to worry about why they do it. Anyone has any issues is welcome to come and talk to me, we have a pension fund for a reason. Dismissed."

Becca was silent as she walked out, Knickers followed closely behind, also silent. She could hear Dorman and his sergeant having a muttered conversation behind her. Already she felt better, she had orders and a purpose, she needed to be a leader and to help her soldiers.

[betterbooktitles]

I was standing in the green room of the posh comedy club in Chelsea where I’d been hired as a publicity assistant. I was waiting to go on, taking deep breaths. The room, like the rest of the club, was unnecessarily fancy. Most green rooms are the size of broom closets. Most comedy green rooms are broom closets. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve eaten chicken strips from a red plastic basket while standing up, the basket resting at eye-level in front of me on a stack of extra chairs, next to a bucket and a mop. Why not? That’s what a comedian is. Another piece of furniture in the utility closet. The important part is that people come out to drink, not if the talent is happy. I know a comic who was asked to mop the floors at a club after a particularly bad set. What a business!

As I breathed in deeply and counted backward from ten, I was staring at the long purple padded bench along the wall with its too-tall back and its too-small seat. The only way to sit comfortably was to have perfect posture, and even then, half my ass hung off the front of the bench. So I stood and I sweat and I panicked. At 20, I was not ready to go in front of a packed room of strangers in a Manhattan nightclub that happened to employ me during the day. The feeling that I was not ready was verified a few minutes later. I didn’t bomb per se, but when I look at old tapes from this era, I not only cringe at my delivery but also at the exhausted and forced laughs from the crowd. It wasn’t bad. But I wasn’t good either. If people saw me in the bar after these sets, they’d look at me with baffled recognition like I was a character actor from a TV show they had seen years ago but couldn’t quite place, rather than the bland guy who was talking at them about “how Facebook is weird” from the stage less than an hour ago. I was forgettable.

A fancy dressing room is not required for comedy. Neither are high ceilings or good food in the showroom. Often, those flourishes are a detriment to a good comedy space. You want a cramped but air-conditioned hole in the wall. The backroom of a bar. A tiny theater. The club where I worked felt like someone had built the Titanic on land a few blocks from where it was supposed to make port at the Chelsea Piers. The mirror that covered most of one wall, the cabinet space, and the ornate but un-sittable benches all felt like Herman Melville’s description of fireplaces in bedrooms: they were “the luxurious discomforts of the rich.” It was a nice green room and a nice club by any standard, but knowing how sad and cramped the basement office space was, how much it smelled of dead mice down there, how the black seats in the showroom looked comfortable but felt spongy when you sat on them, how the show was never as electric as it should be, all added up to a feeling of unease. It all felt like money thrown at a problem that didn’t exist. Comedy was doing fine in worse venues. This place could not last. The space felt like most of what I discovered while working in Manhattan: it’s awe-inspiring, charming, and jaw-droppingly expensive, but eventually, you remember that parts were built on literal trash or a swamp. The rats are creeping in, the basement is flooding.

In the swanky green room, a toothy radio personality and sometimes-comedian was giving me unsolicited advice, holding my shoulder to relax me. I was wearing a bright red American Apparel shirt and black skinny jeans, my uniform for all of 2007. The only time I wore anything else was the day I ran out of clean laundry, so I bought a ThunderCats t-shirt on the way to work. My coworker, a perpetually hungover nightlife photographer asked me multiple times if my shirt had a Bacardi logo on it. “No, man. Much sadder. It’s a cartoon I barely remember.”

The radio DJ kept trying to talk me out of my visible nervousness. He was giving off a lot of step-dad-trying-to-earn-my-trust energy. He kept saying I was going to be great. He squeezed my shoulder and leaned in like he was about to softly tell me “I want to say one word to you, just one word: plastics!” He kept emphasizing his speech by using his other hand to tap me lightly on the chest with three fingers as he spoke.

“You need to calm down. All that matters is that crowd, man. All you need to do is listen to that crowd. They’ll tell you what’s right.” 

It took me a decade to realize that advice is bad. Crowds are notorious for having subpar ideas and executing them in terrible ways. Crowds are responsible for the Reign of Terror during The French Revolution. Crowds love public executions and storming federal buildings and silent discos. Real psychotic stuff. I’m not a big believer in the Oscar Wilde adage that “everything popular is wrong.” I love the NBA and Egg McMuffins. But anytime a big crowd is focused on something besides sports or music, I am wary. Specifically, I’ve seen a lot of comedians who are one bad breakup away from turning a stand-up show into a Men’s Rights Activist meeting, and crowds adore them.

Read the rest of the essay here

[backrooms-office]

Bite’s performance check after about 6 months of working there.

Her number is No. 23825, forgot to add it.

[writersmorgue]

Day 20 - knife wound

read on Ao3

word count: 795

TWs in tags

note: this is SO LATE i am sorry anyway i hope this sweet feels whump makes up for it <3

╞╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╡

They’d been so distracted with Mina’s leg that they hadn’t noticed Denki wasn’t with them.

Kirishima had lost it, dragging his girlfriend away from Toga, barricading their small group in an empty meeting room.

At first, they’d thought Kurogiri air-dropping them to a random office building had been a mistake, but rest assured they’ve been proved wrong. When they’d finally found each other, the backrooms game of cat and mouse had begun. 

Two hours later they huddle around a pale Mina and watch as Sero uses his tape to wrap up her mangled knee. 

They might as well rip it off, it dangles by a few tendons like a loose tooth, and Kirishima’s not sure it’s worth trying to save. Naturally, he’s not going to tell Mina that. If Bakugo hasn’t told her, it’s probably not a good idea. 

Sero is the first to notice, looking around glumly, quickly turning frantic as he doesn’t see who he’s looking for in the small room.

“H-hey,” He stands, “did Kami not make it in?”

Kirishima freezes, looking up at Sero and following his gaze to the door.

“I fucking swear he was with us when Mina got hit.” Bakugo curses, looking down at Mina’s pale and glistening face, “Shit what if he-”

Apparently, none of them noticed the air vent in the ceiling, that is of course until the grate busts open in a cloud of dust and crashes to the floor along with a gray and yellow blur.

“Shit!” Bakugo shouts, leaping into a fighting stance.

The intruder is sprawled across the rough carpet, chest heaving, hand gripping a cylinder on his abdomen.

“Shit, Denki!” Sero yells, scrambling toward the boy.

Identifying marks begin to register, the black streak, the uniform, the wide golden eyes.

Kaminari wheezes, angling his head up to look down at what he’s holding.

“Damnit she got him.” Bakugo growls, looking back to Mina who is barely conscious, deciding she’s too compromised to move. “Bring him over here so we’re not going back ‘n forth.”

Sero apologizes quietly, the room collectively wincing when he pulls Deni by his shoulders and he shrieks. 

The handle of the knife jolts oddly, twisting at an angle as he’s dragged.

“Ha- Hanta please it’s through!” He cries, hands vibrating where they rest on his abdomen. He allows Kirishima to unbutton his top and pull it to the side. 

“What- it’s through you!?” Hanta’s eyes are bulging, and he tilts Denki slightly to the side, kneeling down to peer under his back. “Shit, Kiri tear is blazer off, I think he means it’s-”

Kirishima does so without a second thought.

Sero looks under again, pushing Denki further onto his side. The knife cuts sideways into his stomach with the added weight. 

He chokes, a mess of bile and blood spilling from his lips.

“Shit shit shit shit SHIT!” Hanta chants, turning to slap his hand on the floor in front of Bakugo, “It’s fucking THROUGH HIM!” 

Bakugo stares at Denki, eyes watering, “Fuck I don’t know what to fucking do-” he chokes, looking back to Mina.

“Aizawa?” Denki croaks, spitting on the floor, he’s staring blankly in front of him but still seems fairly aware.

“They have to know by now, lunch break was almost over, right?” Kirishima nods, pushing Denki’s hair out of his face.

“But we might not have time, we could be anywhere.” Hanta looks up at the ceiling, “She’s taunting us. She got Denki in here, she could come in whenever she wants.”

There’s another bang from above them.

“Shit they heard you-” Bakugo growls, scooting back on the ground.

There’s a series of dull thuds, like something heavy being rolled around.

There’s a sick squelch, and a squeal as skin drags down the metal tunnel. 

It comes to a stop right before the exit, whatever is in there has become stuck.

None of them move, the heady scent of blood filling the room like a fog. 

The… body- it has to be, jolts in the tunnel, continuing to screech as it heads toward the opening.

An arm flops out, followed shortly by a shoulder. 

The back of a neck breaches into the light, finally becoming unstuck and flopping into the open air. It’s quickly followed by the rest of the body, 

They watch in silence as it drops directly on top of where Denki had originally landed.

The neck is fileted open, the face lax in its features.

His neck is bent at an unnatural angle with how much extra flexibility it now has. 

Blond hair is almost entirely unrecognizable with how its soiled, neatly manicured nails crusted with blood where they lay splayed out towards his friends.

Bloodshot but familiar red eyes framed with crusted tear tracks.

Toga giggles behind them.

[hatchetfield-murder-mystery]

Hatchetfield Murder Mystery 4

Within a span of a few weeks, four CCRP employees have been murdered mysteriously. Most speculate that the murderer has got to be someone in the company and they're going to be targeting more of their fellow employees.

The administration has been trying to find suitable replacements for Sylvia, Paul, and Melissa, but with the news of a killer, it was quite the deterrent. Capitalism and corporate work kills the soul, sure, but now there's a literal killer on the prowl in CCRP too.

Gossip and speculation fly. People try to figure out what else the three victims had in common, in order to make sense of why they were killed, but it was all just theories. Could they all have something in common? Did they all piss off the same person? If so, then who? There were still no definite answers.

The CCRP Tech Department especially kept to themselves more during these times. Lately, Mr. Davidson had been asking the team to do a few additional work errands here and there, so now, there's less time for the group to laze around or goof around. At least for Charlotte, it meant she got to see Sam at her workplace every now and then when he had to come in with the investigation team. She could pretend he cared enough to worry about her safety.

Still, the days pass and somehow it makes people more anxious when there haven't been any more murders yet, because people were just expecting it to happen any moment now.

And it did. But it wasn't at CCRP. It was at the quaint little coffee shop a block away from the office — Beanies.

Zoey and Emma slipped into the backroom so they could get ready for their shift, but the morning ritual comes to a halt when they step out into the cafe proper.

Nora was slumped on the counter, her face contorted in a pained expression. Her arm was in the blender which was now filled to the brim with blood. Her uniform was askew and her name tag looked like it had been ripped off, judging by the hole in her blouse.

For the first time, Zoey and Emma clung to each other in shock and fear. Zoey's hands shook as she called Sam, and Emma dared to check for any vital signs. There were none.

Soon, the cops and emergency team came and took care of the crime scene.

[wil-is-done]

Officer Subaru’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day - Chapter 1: Ugly Duckling

Summary: On the early morning of her twenty second birthday, Officer Oozora Subaru is kidnapped by a blue-haired psychopath to become a living gift to an infantile sugar princess. Somehow, her day gets worse.

Word Count: 1.917

-

This is not how Subaru envisioned her twenties to go. 

Even from a young age, little Subaru was not blind to the state of the City she lives in. She was not blind to the darkness and the rot that corrupts at the fringes of society. Little Subaru was not afraid to face it, not afraid to fight it, to drive it back, to protect the people that she loves. It was thanks to that innocent dream that little Subaru eventually resolved to make the world a better place, by becoming a police officer. 

She’d barely taken two steps out of the academy before she learned that all the darkness, all the rot, have spread far beyond society’s fringes, and formed cracks in the badge she’d once would be proud to hold. 

Her first week in the precinct, and she’s already the snitch, the ugly duckling, the only one left to actually give a damn about the code of conduct. She was told – ordered - to keep her head down, but every corrupt act, every backroom deal, every blatant lie she witnessed was slowly killing her. One bribe was finally one too many, so she put her foot down, stood up, spoke up, and slammed headfirst into the blue wall of silence. She was even rewarded with a demotion on top, all the way down to managing intersections.

That is the story of how, on the eve of her twenty-second birthday, Officer Oozora Subaru had to jump out of the way of an idiot speeding through a red light. In the pouring rain. For the fifth time that night.

Subaru stares, empty, at the receding rear lights, before sighing, tucking the edge of her cap closer over her eyes. 

She tries to tell herself that even this matters. That she’s still making a difference, in her own small way. But what’s an inch when the city’s rap sheet is a thousand miles long? 

-

The tacky ding dong of a corner store’s automatic doors announces Subaru’s entrance to the unlucky souls inside stuck with the graveyard shift. Or rather, soul. A soul staring vacantly at nothing from behind the counter. A soul that Subaru’s grown quite familiar with these past few months. 

Mio perks up at the sound of the opening door, her ears twitching at the sight of Subaru. “Everything’s been quiet in this sector, officer.” She adds a small mock-salute, drawing a breathless chuckle from Subaru - a silly little back-and-forth for their mutual sanity. Mio then softens, smile turning sweeter than honey. “Finished your shift?”

Subaru nods, energy already renewed from Mio’s smile. She was happy to just step out of the rain, but she won’t mind the extra blessing. “Yeah. I’ll just have the usual before I head back.” 

“The usual, coming right up.” Mio busies herself halfway through the sentence, but pauses for a glance back. “Don’t stand in the door like that. Come in.” 

“I’m good here.” Subaru motions at her drenched uniform. “Soaking wet. I’ll just make a mess.” 

“I can mop it up later.” Mio’s look, and tone, becomes distinctly maternal. “You come inside and you have a seat, young lady.”

No use arguing with her now. “Yes, mom.”

“And don’t you start with that.” 

Subaru tiptoes her way to her usual table, tucked away in the back near the windows. She winces, then shivers, as the water really seeps into her undies when she plants her butt on the chair. Still, she leans back, stretching and relaxing, eyes wandering to the neon-lit downpour outside the window. Her mind follows not long after.

She’s caught herself doing it often these days – daydreaming. Because not only is the job she’s stuck with inane, it’s also plain boring. Maybe it’s the tiny sliver of a ten year-old girl still clinging to her talking, but frankly, she thought that policework would involve a number of shootouts and car chases. It wouldn’t even be so farfetched, considering the astronomically high crime rate in the City. 

“Happy birthday, Subaru.” 

Mio’s beautiful voice brings her back to the corner store. Not speaking, but singing, and singing her name. Subaru would be a grinning and blushing mess already, even if Mio wasn’t also cupping a chocolate chip cupcake decorated with a lit candle in her hands. 

“Happy birthday, Subaru.” 

Subaru tries to hide her red face behind her palms. “No, no, please, Mio, you don’t have to-”

“Happy birthday, dear Subaru.” Mio sits down opposite of her and gently places the cupcake on the table between them. “Happy birthday to you~.” 

Subaru needs a second to recover and find her words. “Oh, god. Wow. You actually remember.” 

“The heck’s that supposed to mean? That I’d be a bad friend?” Mio makes a playful pout, that quickly gives way to a chuckle. “Come on, birthday girl. Make a wish.”

Subaru’s eyes drift downwards to the lovely little chocolate chip cupcake on the table. The lit candle flickers, hit by a stray breeze from the old fan in the corner. She frowns, already overthinking. It’s nothing but a silly birthday wish, get over it. But, if she has one wish to make… 

Subaru leans down and huffs. The flame is snuffed. Somehow, she feels a tiny, marginally bit better.

“What’d you wish for?” Mio tilts her head curiously, cutely.

It’s on the tip of her tongue, but at the last second she’s embarassed to say. “Aren’t you supposed to not say your birthday wish out loud? Or it won’t come true or something like that?” Subaru says instead.

Mio rolls her eyes. “We’re both in our twenties, Subaru. Come on, spill.”

Subaru stalls for one more moment, cheeks puffing, then sighs. “Strength.” She wrings her fingers into her soaked pants, looking away. “Just… hoping I’m strong enough to endure this.” 

“Oh.” Mio sits back. The playful smirk melts. “Sheesh. Thought you’d wish for a holiday in the Countryside.” 

An awkward laugh. “Sorry. I’ve just been thinking. A lot.”

“It’s fine! I’m the dummy here, thinking you’d be anything but a hundred percent earnest.” Mio smiles again, earnest, like she’s trying to match. “Though if you ask me, you don’t need a wish for that.” 

She points, index finger pressing against the center of Subaru’s chest. “Because you already have this.”

“Wh-what does my boobs have anything to do with this?!” blubbers Subaru, cheeks rapidly reddening like an apple.

“Oi, watch where I’m aiming.” Mio jabs a bit more forcefully, before pulling back. “Your heart, Subaru.” 

Subaru zips her blubbering mouth shut. Her hand traces the spot where Mio touched her, feeling the lingering ghost of her finger. 

“You have a good heart. A strong heart,” continues Mio, like a fire’s been lit, leaving Subaru speechless, never to let Mio know that it skipped a beat. “If that heart didn’t fail you years ago, then it won’t fail you now.” 

Subaru breathes. Soaked to the bone, yet she feels warm, and she has Mio’s words to thank. “The disease I’m fighting against now is a little different from when I was a toddler.”

“But that heart is still beating, your eyes are still shining, and your lips are still smiling. In Hollow City, that’s a miracle.” Mio doesn’t lean forward, but somehow she feels inches close. The neon from outside the window reflects on her amber eyes, glinting with the light of a dying dream. “The world’s a little short on miracles.” 

It’s too much. Step back. Crack a joke. Make her laugh. “Someone’s high on Hope tonight.” 

A singing chuckle, short and sweet. Inside, Subaru sighs in relief.

Mio pushes her chair back an inch. Something that was bared is now wound up tight again. “You’ll make it through, Subaru.” The smile is light now, not heavy, and warm. “It might surprise you, surprise all of us, how you make it through. But I know you will.” 

Subaru notices the gap, the distance inching further. She can opt to speak up. “You always know what to say, Mio,” she says instead.

“Practice makes perfect, I guess. Certified mom-friend, eighteen years running.” 

Joke again, joke again. Subaru spreads her arms and practically fell forwards. “Hold me, mama.”

A hand on her forehead stops her dead. “Absolutely not.” Pushing her back, Mio puts the cupcake in Subaru’s hand. “This is your birthday present.” 

Subaru pulls out the candle and takes a big bite. She hums. Not filling, but cheap and chocolatey sweet. Delicious. 

-

A hot shower always calms Subaru’s nerves. Reminds her of simpler times. Takes her back to the hot springs of her Countryside childhood. The warmth, the gentle pressure, the drone of rushing water; it’s like she’s melting away from a rotting world. It’s pure bliss. Until the hot water runs out. 

A yelp that borders on a quack fills her tiny bathroom, as Subaru scrambles to turn off the shower and reach for a towel. She steps out of the shower, quietly laughing to herself. Shivering again. Great. 

She dries herself quick. No sense spending too much time in her cramped bathroom. And yet, she’s frozen, staring at the fogged mirror above the sink. She wipes it clear, and sees herself, bare, spent, a year older. She tries to smile. It forms, but slower than it did a year ago.

Subaru rests her palm against the heart in the mirror. Still beating, seventeen years past its due. 

A strong heart, but is it strong enough?

Subaru flinches from the mirror like it’s suddenly on fire. It’s one in the morning. Never trust your brain at one in the morning. 

She leaves the bathroom and gets dressed in record time. T-shirt and shorts, never a bad option when you’re aiming for comfort. Only two more steps, and she faceplants onto her bed, burying her face in the sheets. The small blessings of living in a dingy studio apartment. 

Subaru grabs her phone and opens it. Time to look for a funny video so she can fall asleep so she can wake up in the morning so she can do the same dull, inane, pointless work all over again. 

She slaps herself. Stop it. Just open a funny video she can fall asleep to, like always. Always.

She’ll find a way to make it through. So Mio says. 

Knock knock knock

Subaru blinks, then cranes her neck at the door across from her. A moment passes, and the three knocks repeat. 

She sighs, but sits up. “One sec!”

She crosses the room quickly. Through the peephole, she spots two women in front of her door - one with blue hair, the other purple. Can’t make out too much of their faces with their hats in the way, but the purple-haired one is carrying a cardboard box. Delivery folk getting the address wrong, looks like. 

“Who is it?”

“UberSheep delivery, ma’am,” says the blue-haired one.

Figures. “Yeah, that ain’t mine. Try Maimoto at the end of the hall.”

“Uh, pretty sure we got it right, ma’am. Apartment 916.”

Subaru frowns. Did Mom send something and forgot to text? Awfully early for a birthday present from the family. 

“Still there, ma’am?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, one sec.” Best not to trouble delivery workers stuck with the graveyard shift. Subaru twists the lock, swings the door open, and comes face to face with the gaping maw of a gun barrel. 

“Officer Oozora Subaru,” says the grinning blue-haired woman holding a gun to her head. “Baby princess wants you for a playdate.” 

-

It’s amazing how this never stopped living rent free in my head.

When is the next chapter? Who fucking knows.

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 161

Achilles Castle part 63

Lemonade and lies PART 6

Muncy: pov the sweaty guy is waiting for us, the boss needs to talk to the 2 of them alone, Liv doesn't like this at all, she convinces him to let all 4 of us in the room with the boss. Once in the room the boss asks if we want to see the other girls. Suddenly a second guy appears with a gun. We are outgunned, Boris tells us to follow him, he just wants to talk with us. In another room that is more private, I notice a weird smell, this does not seem good.

Jet: pov hey they are taking them out of the room, whatever happened. happened off camera.

Kate: pov I'm definitely still coughing badly but the cough meds I took earlier are helping. He starts asking us about the case and how much we know. There is a weird smell in the room. I can't hold my breath because of my health issues. I let out a nasty cough. I can feel my lungs start to burn and my chest is on fire. My heart starts to race, I just don't feel good.

Esposito: pov something isn't right I can feel it. Lanie who is sitting next to me in the van says you are right, something is wrong, she is looking at her phone. She tells me Kate's numbers are elevated indicating she is having a medical emergency. I tell Elliot something is wrong and we need to bust in immediately. He says give it a minute, i say no i out rank you and we are busting in i'm not risking their lives by waiting. I tell Jet to have an ambulance come to this location

Liv: pov something is wrong, this room smells weird, i can't put my finger on the smell. I tell Muncy and Ayanna to hold their breath or cover their mouths. Kate is gasping for air and grabbing her chest in pain. I tell the guy that she has a cold and a heart condition and what you are doing is going to kill her. He says he had no idea just wanted to see if we were police officers.

Ayanna: pov what she has a heart condition, Liv says yes.

Fin: pov we bust down the door and clear the warehouse room by room, along the way we arrest a few people. The sweaty guy tells us Boris took the girls in a backroom because he thinks they are cops. In a backroom someone is talking. Me and Esposito bust down the door, Liv is sitting with Kate who doesn't look so good. Boris is put in handcuffs, Elliot, Joe and Ryan went to look for the 2 undercover officers.

Jet: pov I'm on the phone with the medics, Once I explain everything I turn back to Lanie who is sitting next to me. She looks on edge. Ayanna, Liv and Muncy are going to get the other girls with some uniformed officers.

Ryan: pov we find Ayanna's 2 guys and meet back with the others. Jet is saying the medics should be arriving on scene soon. It is decided we are bringing Kate outside Esposito carries her to one of the cars. We have her laying in the back of an Suv. Ayanna, Liv and Muncy are back with the other girls. Lanie has Fin run and get her medical bag.

Lanie: pov it just happens so suddenly Kate starts grabbing her chest in pain, I can see the tears on her face I grab her hand trying to sooth her. She is gasping for air, I tell Esposito to go into my bag and get her meds. Jet is still on the phone with the medics telling them she is coughing and now seems to be having chest pain, she mentions Kate also has a cold. Joe is nice enough to wait for the medics. I'm checking her numbers on my phone. They are very elevated. Jet and Elliot look freaked out since they have no idea what is going on. Ayanna also looks freaked out and concerned. This Is definitely turning into a heart episode on top of her cold, she is having trouble breathing. The dispatcher says to Jet if it's chest pain this could be a heart attack and the cold and whatever was in that room might not be helping. Jet looks freaked out by this info. Kate is still conscious which is great. I can see her chest is moving too fast, this is going to turn into something without help.

Jet: pov Lanie tells me to pass the phone to detective Ryan who is now talking with the paramedics. Explaining stuff like her vitals. He says Captain Beckett is a shooting, TCA, PTSD, heart surgery and trauma survivor she also has vt. Whatever is happening is scary. It just happened all of a sudden. Captain Beckett looks a little freaked out. Elliot sometimes gets this way when he is having a PTSD episode. Captain Beckett looks to be in severe pain. She is also breathing heavily. Something was in the air in that room.

Elliot: pov I mention me and Liv have PTSD mine was from my wife dying near me and killing Jenna, Liv's was from being tortured by a psychopath. I used to get shot all the time on the job too, some more painful than others but nothing to make a big deal about, it happened so much to me.

Fin: pov Lanie says to Liv can you hold Kate's Hand. Ayanna Is checking on the undercover detectives quickly. Her lips are starting to turn blue meaning she is not getting enough oxygen. Thankfully Lanie has oxygen which Joe had gotten from the van, she puts the oxygen mask on her face.

Muncy: pov Ayanna looks shocked by the info given to the medics, The medics should be here soon. Lanie says she needs to give Kate her emergency heart meds. Esposito offers to have Kate sit on his lap, that way he can hold her hands out of the way and Lanie can give Kate her meds. I remember this from the last time we worked together. This is going to be rough. To be continued. ……..