#cell phone ticket traffic school

[californiatrafficschools]

The course is a review of driving laws and common sense. You can open the entire course and search it while taking the simple final test. Only 70% needed to pass. Save thousands on your auto insurance. Once you get into the course and are doing it, you will understand it wasn’t so bad after all! No need for further procrastination.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy gets arrested

Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.

Masterpost

“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.

“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”

“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)

“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”

Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”

Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”

With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)

Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.

“Have you called anyone?”

Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.

Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.

Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”

Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.

Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”

They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”

Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”

“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.

“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.

Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.

The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”

“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.

——-

“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”

Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?

One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.

“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”

“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”

“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”

Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.

“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ���private property’?”

Vlad just sighed.

——

Bonus:

Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.

Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.

It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.

“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”

Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.

“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”

“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”

Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.

When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.

Part 8

[trafficticket247]

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[violetmuses]

Intertwined - Zemo (Chapter 1)

TITLE: “Intertwined” - Helmut Zemo (Detective AU)

FANDOM: Marvel (Modern AU)

CHARACTER: Helmut Zemo 

MAIN PAIRING: Helmut Zemo + Female Reader 

MAIN WARNINGS: Violence, strong language, adult content, dark themes, etc.

MAIN STORYLINE: When Zemo unexpectedly finds himself working in a new department, you change his world forever. 

Author’s Note: Hi! My newest project is finally here. Please let me know what you think and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much for reading my work as always. - V.  💜

Tags: @tavners @norabrice1701 🏷

Intertwined - Masterlist 🔍

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

An alert pinged from his cell phone around three in the morning. Helmut could barely rustle out of bed without disrupting Heike, who slept right beside him. 

“What?” she whispered, using accented English and hiding her bare chest with the duvet in one or another. 

“Work.” Helmut rasps, angling one kiss towards her cheek for a moment. 

“At least grab food or something on your way there.” Heike continues, hardly awake at this hour. Thank goodness for Karl, their son,still  being of age for international boarding school and not close by with this chat. 

Helmut nods, agreeing with his wife once more after slumping away from the warm covers and heading for another quick shower. There’s no other choice at a time like this. 

___________

During that early morning, Novi Grad seems quiet. Too quiet now. Little vehicular traffic. Almost no pedestrians crowd the sidewalk. Helmut soon wonders if anyone had even entered the building at all. 

Helmut was then proved wrong. 

Countless policemen, fellow detecives, or others lined up and down corners of this precient. 

A small but key lecturn stands up front and Helmut sits down in one of the last remaining seats, awaiting details. 

Sunlight barely casts through bulletproof windows of this precicent, but Helmut continues drinking lukewarm tea from a local shop blocks away. 

Meanwhile, The Chief of Police is barely awake himself, uniformed regarding the meeting. He would much rather sleep in and not make this announcement whatsoever. 

Opting to speak through accented English, several interpreters stand nearby in the name of translation. There’s a melting pot of employees here, despite how small their department really is. 

Helmut sits up in the chair and listens out for the Sokovian language, his native tongue. 

This brand of emergency news is simple, yet devestating at the same time: 

Transfers. 

No warnings. No clues. Nothing can stop what had been revealed. 

Helmut curses to himself, rasping through his native tongue as an eye roll faces the ceiling. Colleagues follow suit, reasonably pissed off. Everyone is handed airline tickets or given empty cardboard to gather belongings as needed. 

______

Not even hours later, Heike is not pleased, equally cursing through their subsequent phone call. On the other hand, Helmut somehow travels this low-level Sokovian airport to leave home. 

This new assignment prompts a stateside placement and he cannot risk moving family at the last minute, especially with Karl still enrolled in school. 

“I will come back as soon as possible.” Helmut attempts to make that promise. 

“Goodbye. I love you.” Despite their argument, Heike still bid farewell on the opposite line. 

“And I love you.” Helmut ends that call, focusing on the next plan alone. 

****

“What the hell?” You enter this precient and find manila on your desk, already pissed off before noon. 

“Got no other choice, Detective. He’ll step through sooner than later.” Lieutenant warns you of a new partner, someone transfered from abroad. 

“What’s going on, is he in for the long-haul?” You kept bringing up questions despite reading paperwork. 

“Who knows?” The Sokovian police are struggling in his country. That nation’s located somewhere in the Balkans.” Lieutenant continues speaking. 

As soon as the Lieutenant walks off, you roll both eyes. 

Detective Helmut Zemo will arrive before long. 

__________

You can’t even pour another cup of coffee when a text message signals your departure. 

Time to go. 

Wthin minutes, one non-descript car pulls towards that main curb, but you cringe internally based on the driver. 

Your partner, Zemo, has already taken the front wheel. 

Shit. You still open that passenger seat door and barely greet this man, giving him no other choice but to leave the department. 

_________

As of late, you’ve only had silence throughout this drive. Even Helmut knows better than to turn on the radio. 

“Let’s get this over with.” You face your partner at last, knowing damn-well that these next few hours won’t look rosy in the slightest. 

Clean-shaven face. Perfect light-brown hair. Dark shoulder holsters now lock onto his own sweater, despite the future heat of this particular day.

Nearly amber eyes concentrate as Helmut Zemo drives towards that upcoming crime scene. 

And yet, you know so much better than even slightly ogle. Every time your partner moves the steering wheel, his leftward finger shows off a gold wedding band. 

______

That crime scene is nothing short of an absolute disaster. Yellow tape runs along the block as you enter this apartment building with Zemo. Before long, neighbors have recounted what happened: A summer party went downhill. 

“I’m not talking to Mr. Posh.” One tenant, James, snips through his New York accent and gestures towards Zemo. 

“Fine. What else do you know?” You adjust, taking notes as James furrows his brow. His leftward prosthetic, an arm replacement crafted from metal, gleams in this living room. 

“One minute, they’re enjoying that party with loud music, but then bullets start flying. That’s all I’ve got.” James licks his lips, watching you with steel blue eyes.

“Thank you, James.” You stand from the nearest chair and say goodbye, not even allowing Zemo to give his own questioning. 

“Bucky.” James offered his nickname across the room as you stood in the doorway. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” You clear yourself, corrected. 

You leave Bucky’s apartment beside Zemo. There are far more questions than answers. 

__________

“The victim seemed young, probably fresh out of college during the summer.” You say, slyly eating in the car after picking food up. 

“This event was not spontaneous.” Zemo chimes in, not eating too fast meanwhile. 

“How could you tell?” You squint. 

“The main shot was taken at point blank range. Typically, average civilians would never know that kind of accuracy.” Zemo says, recalling his own experience in the military as a Colonel before earning Honorable Discharge. 

“Targeted victim?” You probe, attempting to stand on the same wavelength. 

“Or perhaps someone that they knew.” Zemo’s accented English rasps again and wheels start turning in your head. 

[samuraiko]

What has kept me nearly ENTIRELY accident free*...

Driving with the assumption that EVERYONE else on the road is a moron who's not paying attention.

I leave PLENTY of room in front of me (I look through the windshields of the cars in front of me or over them now that I'm in an SUV) just in case the moron in front of me is tailgating someone.

I reflexively check my mirrors TWICE before changing lanes in case the moron in the HOV toll lanes decides to cut over the double white lines to avoid the tolls.

I get into the lanes I need to be for exits or highway splits or whatever at least THREE exits in advance so I'm NOT the moron who swerves across four lanes of traffic at the past-the-last-moment to reach an off ramp.

My headlights are on automatic so I'm NOT the moron who overconfidently feels I can drive in the dark without my headlights (news flash - your headlights are there for OTHER PEOPLE TO SEE YOU).

I always use my turn signal, and nine times out of ten, I do NOT turn right on red arrows if I don't have a long shot clear view of oncoming traffic in case some moron decides to run a yellow or a red while I'm trying to turn.

I DO NOT USE MY CELL PHONE IN MY CAR. EVER. AT ALL. NOT EVEN IN HANDS-FREE MODE. (FYI, there's a municipal law in my neighborhood that if you're in an accident and it's determined you were on your phone, you are automatically at fault. And cops will pull you over if they catch you messing with your phone while you're driving.)

If I'm worried about traffic making me late, I check the traffic maps before I leave the house, and I leave EARLY.

*Apart from the time I sneezed and lightly rear-ended someone while pulling up to a red light, smacked myself in the face because I'd covered my mouth and nose while sneezing and abruptly stopped, and gave myself a horrific bloody nose while laughing hysterically. The woman in the minivan in front of me got out to yell at me and saw me with blood pouring down my face. The cop who showed up five minutes later was ready to call an ambulance. The damage to both vehicles was cosmetic. I went to traffic school to keep myself from getting a ticket over it. I had the best story at that class - "why are you here?" "I sneezed and rear-ended someone and bled all over myself."

I am BEGGING younger drivers. drive carefully. give yourself room. for fuck's sake use your turn signals and don't fucking weave thru traffic. this is not a video game, this is real life and if you get into an accident, you could get killed or kill someone else VERY easily

[njticketattorneys]

Tips for Avoiding Traffic Tickets in New Jersey

Nobody enjoys receiving a traffic ticket. In New Jersey, these tickets can come with hefty fines, increased insurance premiums, and points on your driving record. Fortunately, there are several strategies you can employ to avoid New Jersey Traffic Ticket and those dreaded citations and stay safe on the road.

1. Obey speed limits:

It may seem obvious, but obeying the posted speed limits is one of the most effective ways to avoid traffic tickets. Be especially careful in school and construction zones where speed limits may vary.

2. Stop completely:

Running stop signs or failing to stop at red lights are surefire ways to attract the attention of law enforcement. Always make a complete stop, even if the coast seems clear.

3. Wear your seat belt:

Seat belt violations are easy to avoid — always wear your seat belt and ensure all occupants of your vehicle do the same.

4. Keep your vehicle maintained:

Regular vehicle maintenance can prevent equipment violations. Make sure your lights, brakes, and signals are all in working order.

5. Avoid distractions:

Distracted driving is a leading cause of accidents and traffic tickets. Put away your cell phone, program your GPS before driving, and focus solely on the road.

6. Pay attention to traffic signs:

Pay attention to all traffic signs and signals. Yield the right-of-way when required, and be aware of one-way streets and no-entry zones.

7. Use Turn Signals:

Signal your intention well in advance of turning or changing lanes. Failure to signal is not only dangerous but may result in a ticket.

8. Don’t tailgate:

Following too closely behind the vehicle in front can result in rear-end collisions and tickets for tailgating. Keep a safe distance.

9. Educate yourself:

Familiarize yourself with local traffic laws and regulations, especially if you are new to New Jersey or just passing through. Ignorance of the laws is not a valid excuse.

10. Consider defensive driving:

Taking a defensive driving course can teach you valuable skills and reduce points on your driving record.

Remember that obeying traffic laws isn’t just about avoiding tickets — it’s about ensuring your safety and the safety of others on the road. Following these tips and being a responsible driver can significantly reduce your risk of receiving a traffic ticket in New Jersey. Safe driving!

[edmontoninstructor]

Common Driving Mistakes That Young Drivers Make and How to Avoid Them

Our team of professional driving instructors provides various training options for new drivers, such as young drivers who make several road mistakes that can lead to an accident. These include failing to wear a seatbelt, speeding, and being distracted while driving If you want to become a safe driver, you must avoid these issues.

Careless driving

Careless driving is one of the most common mistakes young drivers make, and it can be extremely dangerous. Most places have enacted laws prohibiting texting and driving to avoid these issues. Texting while driving is the most dangerous distraction. Not only does it take the driver's eyes off the road for two seconds, but it also increases the risk of a collision.

Another common form of distracted driving is talking on the phone. It's distracting whether you're checking the weather or reading the news. The best way to avoid this is to use apps that help you reduce cell phone usage. When you are on the road, the best way to prevent distracted driving is to focus your attention on the road.

Driving too fast

Driving too fast is a dangerous thing to do. It is a major cause of car accidents and can result in injuries. Driving instructors in Edmonton have always advised young drivers that there are steps they can take to avoid being distracted drivers. First, they should know the speed limit, and second, they should turn off their phone on the road.

Additionally, Drivers should have an alternative path in case something unexpected occurs, and you should watch out for pets and bicyclists. Fortunately, most cars come equipped with seat belt reminders. But you should still buckle up when the opportunity arises. Getting a speeding ticket can be a real hassle.

Failing to yield

Edmonton Driving School offers a range of driver training programs, including a Beginner Driver Education Course and Advanced Driving Lessons. Unfortunately, young drivers sometimes forget to stick to the rules and make mistakes that endanger their safety and that of others. The most common mistake made by newly licensed drivers is speeding. Speeding can be dangerous and cause a lot of accidents.

Failure to yield the right of way is another common hazard. This means you should be prepared to slow down or come to a complete stop if the vehicle in front of you does. Before crossing an intersection, always look both ways. Furthermore, young drivers should choose a reputable and experienced instructor for drivers training in Edmonton to ensure that they receive high-quality instruction.

Failure to use a seatbelt

Failure to wear a seatbelt is a common teen driving mistake that can be extremely dangerous. Teenagers are likely to make these errors because they lack the necessary driving experience to properly scan the road, judge speed, and stop in time. They may also overestimate their ability to handle road conditions. So, when you choose the school in Edmonton, you can be confident that you will receive the best instruction and support possible.

Moreover, those who did not always use their seatbelts had a higher risk of fatal injury. This is one of the most significant road safety issues facing teenagers.

Failure to adjust your vehicle's accelerator

One of the most common driving mistakes that a new driver makes is failing to adjust to their car's accelerator. Although this might seem like a simple step, it is often overlooked.

These crashes are most likely to happen when a driver is making a slow-speed turn, backing up out of a parking spot, or trying to enter or exit a building. This can be very dangerous if another vehicle is present or a pedestrian is in the path.

Another way to avoid a pedal error is to learn how to properly use your brake. You should take time to study your vehicle's operating manual for more specific guidance.

Edmonton Drivers test

In Edmonton, new drivers must pass a road test before they can obtain a full driver's license. The road test aims to evaluate your driving abilities and knowledge of traffic laws.

To schedule an Edmonton driver's test, follow the steps below.

1. You must have a valid learner's permit before you can take a road test. A learner's permit can be obtained by taking a written test at a Driver Services Center.

2. Before taking the road test, it is advised that you enroll in a driving school. You will gain the abilities and information needed to pass the test as a result of doing this.

3. If you have completed a driver training course and have a valid learner's permit, you can schedule a road test by contacting a Driver Services Center in Edmonton.

It is important to arrive at the testing location on time and bring your learner's permit and other required documents. You should also make sure that the vehicle you will be using for the test is in good working condition and meets all safety requirements.

[prioritysope]

Crush

Reader: Female Character: Miya Atsumu Rating: Explicit Chapter: 8/?

Yesterday went pretty well for you and the Miya family. You were so excited since today's the day when Atsumu it's going to take you to Nijigen no Mori (Naruto's park). Even you were the first to wake up. You couldn't even bear to wait for Atsumu to wake up on his own. With total silence, you walked with the tips of your feet, approaching the bed. Then you threw yourself on top of him, waking him up abruptly, but he calmed down when he saw that it was you. You straddled him, tapping him gently on his chest, eliciting soft laughter from the blonde.

"I see you woke up happy, uh." His morning voice was so husky, you even felt your core throb from it. It was crazy the effect Atsumu had on you and that he was so stupid not to realize that he has you at his feet.

Atsumu leaned on his elbows, turned his head towards his phone to take it. He unlocked it, opening the camera and taking a picture of you without you noticing, smiling to himself. You seemed so beautiful to him just waking up, no matter how many times he has seen you like this. He already wished he could tell you everything he feels. Waking up next to you in the same way, but adding kisses and confessions of love. He wished he could show you off and present you as his girlfriend, and not as his best friend.

His parents' words left him wondering. They already knew that his son was in love with you, for that reason they say those kinds of comments. They want to get some kind of information out to give both of them a boost.

"We should be showering now, leaving in less than an hour. We don't want to find ourselves in a long line." Atsumu spoke again as he stretched out as best he could. On the other hand, you got off him without first thanking him for the thousandth time and kissing him on the cheek. Action that caught Atsumu off guard, he didn't expected that.

After all that, they both went to shower. Atsumu left the bathroom in his room for you while he used the one downstairs. He took to himself the clothes he would wear, but you didn't really notice that. While you went to take a shower, which only lasted about ten minutes. You dried your body and put another towel on your hair to dry it little by little. You put on your underwear first. You opened the door, sticking your head out to see if Atsumu was already in the room, and when you didn't see him you left. You were undecided about what to wear.

After thinking for a while, you decided on gray sweatpants, white and black jordan, a shirt from your favorite anime and a cream hoodie on top. Before dressing, you put on deodorant and a little perfume. You also left your hair down, not so damp and with some waves. After you were dressed, you looked at yourself in the full-length mirror on the side of the bed, you felt good about yourself.

"Are you ready, Y/N?" You heard from the door, you turned your head seeing Atsumu already dressed. Your eyes widened when you noticed that they were both totally the same, and without realizing it. Atsumu finds it cute that they are dressed the same. "From what I see, yes. You look beautiful, as always."

You were going to answer, but those last words were familiar to you, but you couldn't remember where; you didn't want to bother Atsumu with that either.

"Let's take some pictures." And without being able to resist, Atsumu agreed to take some photos with you and then leave.

The road to the park was not that long, especially when there is not so much traffic. They were both very comfortable listening to random music. Atsumu had insisted on putting her cell phone and decided to put one of the many playlists that she made thinking of you. Right now One Direction's Perfect was playing while Atsumu sings it at the top of his lungs, as if he really felt those lyrics. Which made you curious about it.

"But if you like causing trouble up in hotel romos. And if you like having secret little rendezvous. If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do. Then baby, I'm perfect. Baby, I'm perfect for you."

After about fifteen minutes, they were both in the not-so-long line at the park. A couple of people were missing before it was their turn to pay for their tickets. Everything was too beautiful and without still entering the park in general. For a Saturday morning, it wasn't that crowded. Perhaps more people would arrive later. A couple of minutes passed and it was their turn. Atsumu asked for two tickets, paid and was given two headbands from Konoha village; in addition to the tickets.

You felt like you could fly from the excitement you brought when you barely passed through the giant gates of the park. You always dreamed of coming, and since you were little Atsumu promised you that he would take you and knowing that he has fulfilled it fills you with great happiness. On the other hand, Atsumu was happy just to see you happy. Seeing you smile only brings you pure happiness. And he wanted you to always smile and he would hate to see your smile go off because of him or someone else.

Just as they were about to continue walking, a female voice stopped them in their tracks. You recognized that voice clearly; however, you were not going to make a scene in a public place.

"Atsumu-kun?" It was Atsumu first "girlfriend", the one that one used him to gain popularity, Nakamura Akira.

Atsumu turned on his heel hearing the girl's voice. Since they graduated from high school, he hadn't heard anything about her. Not that he cared either.

"What do you want, Akira?" That was all he said to her. Looking at her with clear despise in his eyes.

"I just wanna talk to you a bit. About what happened between us."

[sgtbradfords]

Sorry your getting a ton of prompts off of me 🙈

Can you write a version of SE2E11

But slightly different

Caleb is a tech wiz and hacks the police computers

They think Lucy is just running late, they’re in roll call and the screen flickers on and it’s a live video of and unconscious Lucy strapped to a table getting her Day of Death tattoo

And basically it’s plays out similar, but they see her nearly escape they see her being forced into the barrel, and they have the live feed of her inside the barrel

Alright anon, first off thank your for your patience the past couple of weeks. I hope this does your request justice. Enjoy! :)

The only thing that Lucy Chen wanted to do was go home, unwind and crawl into bed. But according to her training officer she needed to go out, blow off some steam, in order to forget about the long and restless day they had endured. She thought over his words as she changed, reluctantly deciding he was right as she fished her phone out of the front pocket of her jeans, pulling up her social media messaging app, scrolling through before finding who she wanted, pressing his contact.

“Hey.” She said into her phone. “I know it’s late, but do you want to go get a drink?”

“I’d love to.” He said with a smile in his voice. “Want to meet back at Las Torres?”

“See you in twenty.” She told him, hanging up.

Caleb Wright was someone that Lucy never expected to stumble upon, let alone a person who found her somewhat worthy of being flirted with. It started when she met him while waiting at the counter of the bar, words and flirtation coming easily. Though she was not very forthcoming until the last minute about her occupation, she found him to be intriguing, and was surprised when he showed up at the station just to give her his number. She spent days playing the should she, shouldn’t she game which resulted in Lucy cyberstalking him on his social media pages.

Tim scolded her for not being on task as she sat next to him in the shop, scrolling through his Instagram and scoffed when he caught her later in the day watching a video of him playing with his dog, making sure to tell her that it probably wasn’t even his dog as she rolled her eyes at him. But, her training officer was also the first person to officially meet him, Tim going as far as to intimidate and question Caleb when the man visited the precinct, before he reluctantly handed over the number he had taken out of Lucy’s hands.

---

“Hey, have you seen Lucy?” Jackson West asked John Nolan as he walked out of the locker room. “She didn’t come home last night.”

“She’s a grown woman. Why, you worried?”

“No. Yes. A little?  It’s just- she didn’t come home last night.”

Thinking that their friend may just be running late, the two rookie officers headed to roll call, taking their seats at the front.

“Where’s Chen?” Tim asked as he walked into the room, noticing his missing boot.

“We don’t know, she had a date last night and never came home.”

Alarm bells began ringing in Tim’s head as John turned around in his chair, asking his training officer, Nyla Harper if Lucy was in the locker room. The detective’s response sent chills up Tim’s spine. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts to find hers. The phone ringing continuously before going to voicemail.

“Something’s not right.” Tim said, hanging up before quickly walking back out of the room and into the bullpen. “Sergeant.” He said as he approached their superior. “Chen’s missing.”

“What do you mean Officer Bradford?”

“My boot is missing sir. Nolan and West have not been able to reach her, and I just tried her cell myself.”

Nolan spoke first. “She had a date last night.”

“And she never came home.” Inputted Jackson.

“A date? Did she go out with that guy, the one she met at the bar?” asked Tim. “Caleb… Wright, with a W.”

Jackson recalled her plans. “Yeah, she was headed to meet up with him when we walked out together last night, about 8:30? We haven’t heard from her since.”

“If she comes in late and we sound the alarm, she’ll be in more trouble than what it’s worth.” John pointed out.

“Her phone could be dead.” Mentioned the Sergeant.

“No.” spoke Tim, shooting the suggestion down. “I just called it and it rang before going to voicemail. She also keeps it fully charged with a charger in her bag.”

“She could be stuck in traffic or maybe she’s overslept and is still at his place.”

John and Jackson spoke together. “No, Lucy doesn’t do one-night stands.”

“This guy, Caleb Wright, he came by the station yesterday, gave her his number.” Tim told the other officers.

“What else do we know about him?”

“Nothing.” Said Jackson.

“I met him yesterday, he told me he works for a medical supply company. She watched a video of him playing with a puppy.” Tim told them as they gave him an incredulous look. “Chen was checking out his social media page.”

Grey shifted on his feet. “Bradford, take West and go run this guy’s name through NCIC and LAPD’s database, see what you can find, warrants, tickets, previous charges, anything before we go knocking on his door.”

“I can run a trace on Lucy’s phone, get her into MUPS and NaMus systems.” Nyla told her commanding officer before walking away.

Tim moved quickly, beckoning Jackson to follow as he approached an available computer terminal, sitting down behind the desktop as he began his search.

“What do you think?” Jackson asked as he pulled up a chair to the terminal.

Tim worked on punching in what he knew about Caleb. “I think that we’re working a serial killer’s case and that given the circumstances, it’s not looking good.”

“She’s going to be ok, right?”

Tim continuously glanced at the clock in the corner of the computer screen, watching as the numbers for the minutes went up.

“Officer Bradford. Officer Nolan said you were looking for me?” Detective Nick Armstrong asked as he stepped into the room.

“Lucy Chen is missing. No one’s had contact with her in close to thirteen hours and Harper just sent me a text that her phone is turned off and that the GPS has been disabled.”

“And you think it’s connected to Rosalind.”

“I think that there’s no such thing as coincidences.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes, Caleb Wright.” Said Jackson. “But we’ve gotten no hits on any database.”

“Any social pages?”

“He has something, but we haven’t started a search.”

“May I?” he asked gesturing to the chair. Tim stood, moving out of the way as Nick sat down. “Name?”

“Caleb. Wright, with a W.”

Nick began punching the information that was given to him.

“Huh. And you’re sure that he’s on the internet?”

“Yes.” Tim told him, pacing.

“That’s weird because Caleb Wright doesn’t seem to exist.”

“What?” he said as he rushed over. “That’s impossible I seen him playing with- with a puppy on it yesterday!”

“Well, whatever it was on, it’s gone now. He must have deactivated it.”

“Even if he deactivated it, we can contact the company and-“

“On what grounds? We have nothing to back up what is being implied Officer Bradford. If he is our guy, he’s already faked one identity.”

“Bryan Coleman.”

“Exactly. This guy stole Coleman’s life to gain access to the old zoo, where he used the isolation to kill his victims.”

“He’s already got fresh blood, now he’s going to need new killing ground.”

“He already has it. If we can find the land, that’s where we will find Officer Chen.”

“We don’t have a picture of the guy, how are we supposed to find him?” asked Jackson.

“West, you work on pulling the security cameras from the front desk and the back hall. I am going to go sit with Isaac downstairs and see if he can compile a sketch from what I remember, it will be better than nothing.” Tim instructed as he quickly made his way downstairs.

Thirty minutes later, Tim was taping up the sketch of Caleb onto the whiteboard at the front of the room as Nyla worked on putting up the necessary information.

“Officer Bradford.” Jackson said walking into the room, lingering by the door. “A word.”

Tim walked over, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the rookie.

“We have a problem. There’s no footage.”

Tim looked at him in disbelief. “What do you mean there’s no footage?”

“The footage from yesterday has been wiped.”

Tim shifted on his feet. “Wiped.”

“Yes sir, I checked the timeframe that you told me he was here and all the footage, an entire hour is nothing but static.”

“Son of a bitch! How did he- when did he-“

“What do we know?” Sergeant Grey asked, walking into the room, Detective Armstrong trailing close behind.

“Any footage of Caleb inside the department yesterday has been wiped.”

“He hacked our servers so we can assume he’s very good with technology which is why we were unable to find any social media pages.”

Nolan spoke up, raising a hand. “If that’s true then he has access to anything we have on Rosalind.”

“Not everything.” Pointed out Armstrong. “Almost all of our findings from her earlier kills have never been scanned into the system, those reports are all still on paper.”

“Who has those?”

“They are locked up in storage in the basement which you have to sign out but you’re in luck, I’m old school. I happen to keep a paper copy of all my cases, for if and when technology fails us, and those copies? Are in my office.”

“Get them.” Ordered Grey. “In the meantime, we do have an update.”

“The bartender at Las Torres recognized Lucy and Caleb.” Detective Armstrong stated, pulling up the security feed onto the smart TV. “The good news, there’s a security camera in the parking lot so we know that they left at 9:05. The bad news is that the angles on the camera are shit which means we are unable to confirm faces.”

“He knew where the cameras were.” Stated Nolan from a table in the middle of the room.

“Correct Officer Nolan. Now, we were able to obtain footage from a neighboring business and have footage of this car driving by four minutes later,” Armstrong told them as he played the footage on a loop. “the plates are missing but it matches the description of a car that was reported stolen yesterday morning.”

“Now, Officer Chen’s car was found in the alleyway where she left it last night. Unfortunately, the amount of evidence that we have discovered gives us every inclination that Caleb is Rosalind’s protégée.”

The sounds of the room came to a halt as the words sunk in. They had all thought it, but no one had uttered the suspicion.

“Officer Chen is one of our own, and I know how upsetting this revelation is, but we have to remain focused. We owe her that.”

Tim closed his eyes, clenching his fist as he fought the wave of nausea that sat in the pit of his stomach.

“Nora was abducted two nights ago and we found her eighteen hours later, already tattooed and about to be put into a barrel to be suffocated. We believe that Caleb’s timeline from abduction to death to be twenty-four hours.” Nolan told them as he took over.

“Officer Chen has been missing for almost fifteen hours now, giving us approximately seven hours to find her.”

“Unless the timeline is wrong and she’s dead already.”

Tim stood from where he was leaning on the table. “You’re wrong. Chen, she’s not like the rest of the victims, she’s a fighter.”

“I haven’t known Lucy as long as the rest of you, but Bradford is right. She’s going to do everything that she can to stay alive until we save her.” Spoke Nyla, gaining a nod of appreciation from Tim.

“I’ve issued a BOLO to be broadcast for Caleb Wright and Officer Chen all over LA and surrounding counties, so I will need more officers answering the tip line as the phone calls come in.” said Grey addressing the group of officers before he began to call them out by name, giving them their tasks, leaving the close knit group of officers in the room.

“Detective Armstrong?” the officer from the front desk asked, knocking on the glass door as she stepped into the room. “Someone dropped this off at the front desk for you.” She told the group, extending the hand holding a manilla envelope.

Nick reached out, grabbing the envelope, observing the information on the outside, finding his name printed on the paper. “No return address.” He stated, looking up at the officers around him.

Tim reached into the pants pocket of his uniform, pulling out a black pair of gloves, slipping them on before he reached out a hand to take the possible evidence. He carefully undone the metal clasp, using the flashlight from his duty belt to peek into the open package. Tim looked around at the faces of the other officers that had gathered around, carefully shaking out the contents, a lone USB drive falling out.

“What the fuck?” he mumbled under his breath.

“He’s playing with us, just like Rosalind.” Armstrong said as he ran a hand over his head. “We need to plug it in, see what’s on it.”

Tim picked up the stick, palming the drive in his gloved hand. “And what if it’s just another game?”

“And what if it’s not.”

“I’m not going to let my boot become another one of their casualties!” Tim told Armstrong, his voice raising with every word.

Sergeant Grey sighed. “We need to find an unsecured computer, one that is not attached to our servers.”

“I can help with that. I’ve got my laptop in the truck, Lucy made flashcards for us to study on the internet, and we were planning on studying after shift.” Offered Nolan.

“Get it.” Grey instructed as he pulled out his phone.

Nolan walked away quickly, returning just as fast with a bag in hand. He pulled the device from the bag, powering it on as Tim connected the USB drive, a lone URL link popping up on the screen as they crowded around.

“Click it.” The sergeant ordered as words began scrolling across the screen.

‘Detective Nick Armstrong. Let it be known, this one’s for you.’

The room was silent as they read the scrolling words on the screen before they disappeared, a video popping up in its place.

“Oh my god.” John said in shock at the video before them.

“Is it live?” asked Tim, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I don’t- it doesn’t-“ Spoke the rookie, stumbling over his words.

“Is there audio?” Tim demanded, his voice raising.

Sergeant Grey placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, grounding him. “We have to assume it is. She’s not in the barrel yet so she has to still be alive. Officer West, assist Detective Armstrong in going over the files he has. I want you to check out every file that has Rosalind’s name on it, in it, attached to it. I want history, financials, background, anything that may help us get a location. Find me something Nick. In the meantime, let’s get someone from IT up here to find us a location. Officer Nolan, you stay on the computer and if she wakes, Wright shows up or anything on that screen changes, you let me know immediately.  Harper, contact her parents, don’t,” he said hesitantly. “don’t give them the full rundown of what’s going on but make them aware and that the LAPD is doing their best to find their daughter.”

Each officer went out the door, heading their separate ways as they went about the task they were assigned.

“Sir.” Tim said moving to the door, towards where his superior was walking out. “And me?”

Wade glanced over Tim’s shoulder at Nolan who was intently watching the monitor.

“She’s your boot Bradford, you know her better than anyone. Stay with Nolan and watch the feed.”

“But sir-“

“Watch the feed Bradford.” Sergeant Grey commanded as he left the room.

Tim sighed, running a hand over his face. He pulled out his phone, dialing the one person he knew he could rely on. “Hey, Lucy’s been taken. I need you.” Was all he said, hanging up the phone, clenching the metal device in his hand before stepping back into the room.

“Get Grey back in here, she’s waking up.”

“Hey Sarge!” He yelled out the door, running over to Nolan and the computer.

-----

Lucy Chen came to in a daze, her head throbbing, her mouth dry and her left side was burning. She knew what had happened as she glanced around the bare room, the realization that she had become one of them hitting her full force.

Instinct told her to pull at the restraints, the tape around her wrists not budging, making her realize that she wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until her numb body became more aware. She took in her surroundings, noticing the blinds we’re drawn, the sun filtering through, the wooden entertainment center and desk to her right, both covered in dust.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.” He spoke from behind her, his footsteps heavy as he walked into the room she was being held in. “I’d offer you some, but it’s better if your stomach is empty, for you know, later. All the screaming and lack of air tends to make you-“ he said before pretending to gag.

She glanced around the room, looking for anything that could potentially give her a clue as to where she was being held, spying the bottle of water on the wooden table.

“Can- can I at least have some water?” She asked, remembering that water is more sustainable, no matter the circumstance.

“Oh, of course.” He said as he moved over to the table, reaching for the bottle. “I’m not a monster.”

Caleb sat his plate down as Lucy took the time with his back to her to further observe her surroundings for the split second she had, before he turned back around, twisting the cap off as he walked over towards her. She opened her mouth, taking any water she could get. “Ah, don’t get greedy.” He chastised as she swallowed the sip he had allowed her.

“Is this why you hit on me in that bar? Why you asked me out? So you could make me a victim?”

“No! Not at all!” he told her as he took a bite of the apple from his plate. “Though, I see the confusion. You weren’t the target Lucy, you were just an opportunity. I was there scoping out Armstrong. Honestly, I don’t know what Rosalind sees in the guy. But who am I to judge, we all have our fetishes.”

Lucy swallowed harshly, “Are you gonna bury me in Rosalind’s third unmarked grave?”

“You know, that was the plan. I was gonna put Nora in there, but then your friend screwed that up.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, her voice raising.

Caleb smirked, “You know, that’s more of a second date question. And we’re just not gonna get there. I’m sorry.” Lucy could feel her heart stop as his words confirmed her fears. “Now, I’ve got a lot to do before I put you inside-“

Lucy panicked as he began to walk away, she needed to know, she deserved to know “Wait!” she yelled, causing the retreating man’s steps to faulter. “Why- why the tattoo? Is it… some display of ownership? Knowing that you have the ultimate control over a person, deciding when they die?”

“No.” he huffed a laugh. “It’s not for me, silly. It’s for you, to force you to face the truth of your death. It is the gift of something we rarely get in life, clarity.”

“Did Rosalind teach you that?”

“No.” he said, his voice raising as his tone became irritated. “That’s mine.”

“Rosalind is your mentor, is she not? So that would-“

“No!” he interrupted. “No, It’s not like that. We are equals.”

“Does she know that?”

Caleb laughed. “You’re good Officer Chen. But I would think carefully of how you want to proceed, because this, I’m going to enjoy this.”

________________________

The room was quiet as they watched Caleb’s retreating back, the conversation they just witnessed settling in. “The window to the left of the screen is obscured, so there’s no way to find out where she is. Dammit.”

“How long till IT gets here?” Nolan asked grimly.

“Soon. Officer Nolan, I want you and Harper to assist West and Armstrong, the more eyes we have filing through the paperwork, the better chances of finding where this house is.”

Nolan stood, walking out in search of his training officer.

“Officer Bradford, I need you to stay here and monitor the feed, she may not know of the camera but look for any identifying characteristics in that living room that could point us in the right direction. If he comes back, notify me immediately.” The Sergeant instructed before walking away.

Tim sighed sitting down into the seat that Nolan had vacated, watching as his boot took in the details of the room, her fingers twitching against the wooden arm rest. “We’re going to find you boot.”

Twenty minutes later, the sound of two pairs of footsteps walked into the room, dragging Tim’s focus away from what the IT analyst, Marcus, was working on on a second computer. “Hey. Thanks for coming in.” He said standing as Angela and Wesley walked in.

“Of course. What are you working on?”

Tim clenched his jaw, extending a hand to show what was on the screen.

“He’s recording her?” Wesley asked in disbelief.

Tim nodded his head, “We think the camera is hidden so she’s not aware that she’s being watched. Day off?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wesley said as shared a glanced with Angela. “Can I help?”

“What’s your tolerance level for cranks and asshats wasting your time?”

Wesley couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “I’m a public defender.”

Tim rolled his eyes as they walked out of the room. “There’s an empty spot next to West so help yourself to a notepad and a phone. Besides, nothing says we’ve got squat like listening to the public.”

Wesley sat down as Tim began walking back to the room, Angela walking beside him as he took large steps.  “This is useless. We should be out on the streets, kicking down doors.”

Angela placed a hand onto Tim’s arm stopping them in the middle of the pen. “Whose doors Tim? They wouldn’t be able to tell us where he is keeping her.”

“I don’t know.” He said shaking his head. “I-I can’t just sit here Ang.”

“I get that, but you’ve got to get your head in the game.” She told him as she pulled him to the side.

“I don’t need a pep talk Lopez.”

Angela searched his face. “Then why’d you call me? Because clearly, you need to get something off your chest.”

Tim looked away, glancing around the room for possible prying eyes and listening ears before he looked back to his friend, letting out a sigh. “Look, she- she wanted to go home. Okay? Go to bed. And- and I told her that she should focus on something else. She went out with Caleb because I told her to Angela.”

Angela Lopez had been witness to the many emotions of Tim Bradford over the years that she had known him, but the one he was displaying now, was one that she hadn’t seen in a long time. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I should’ve! I’m a fucking cop.” He told her, his voice raising with every word as he stepped closer to his friend, lower his voice. “I was standing this close to the guy. Okay? Right across from him, and I never saw him coming.” He vented, his hands returning to his duty belt as he quickly got himself in check. “But she did though. She- Some part of her didn’t feel right about this whole thing. She hesitated and I-I pushed her right into him.”

Angela stood there, her mouth opening and closing as his admission of guilt left her speechless.

“Sergeant Grey!” exclaimed the voice of Marcus, as he stuck his head out of the door of the room.

Tim snapped his head towards the trembling voice as his feet quickly carried him, Angela hot on his heels.  

Tim immediately went to the computer, finding a empty and broken chair on the screen. “Where the fuck is she?”

Marcus hurried back in, quickly pulling up footage on the second computer. “She escaped.”

Tim felt his eyes grow wide as he watched the recorded scene play out before them.

Lucy saw the opportunity, having previously checked the stability of the wooden chair by wiggling the pieces ever so slightly to find the weak spots, she waited for the best moment to make her escape. The chair was wooden, making it easier to break, and as soon as the front door closed, her knew it was time.  As hard as she could, she pulled her right arm that was strapped to the wood, the wood splintering as she moved her wrist to her left hand, undoing the duct tape before removing the tape from her right wrist and then both of her calves.

She never heard the door open again, her hands shaking with adrenaline as she moved quickly to the back wall.

“Okay. We are ready to go.” Said Caleb as he walked into the room.

Lucy pulled her arm back and threw her punch as he walked into the room, knocking him to the ground as the force and lingering drugs forced her unsteady body to the ground. She quickly got to her feet, running towards the door as Caleb gasped in pain on the floor.

“Where did she go?” Sergeant Grey asked, his voice tainted with excitement of her escape.

“There’s no other cameras so we can’t- Shit.” Marcus cursed under his breath, typing furiously into Nolan’s computer. “He cut the feed.”

“What do you mean he cut the feed!” asked Tim, moving closer, finding a black screen in front of him.

“It’s gone, it’s still broadcasting but he must have turned it off.”

Tim ran a hand through his hair as he stepped back.

“What about a trace on the broadcast?”

“The signal is being run through an anonymizer, meaning that each time I try to back trace a location, the ISP is in a different location. He’s keeping it local to LA and the surrounding counties but it’s going to take time that we don’t have to get a better trace.”

The shrill tone of Angela’s phone broke the tension in the room. “Hey. What? He may, let me find out and I will get back to you.” She said ending the call. “That was Nolan, we may have a lead.”

Angela informed the group of Nolan’s suggestion, gaining approval from Sergeant Grey before she made her way to Wesley.

“Hey.” She said as he hung up the phone. “Do you have any clients at the Central California Women’s Facility?”

“Sure.” He said running a list of his clients through his head. “Three, I think.”

“They need to tell you who’s running contraband into the prison.”

“Okay, but I can’t do anything that would incriminate a client.”

“No one cares about black market cigarettes. Getting the smuggler might be out only hope at finding Lucy before it’s too late.” She urged.

“Okay.” Wesley said, picking up the receiver. “Let me make some calls.”

Thirty minutes later, the feed was back online, the screen showing the dirt on the ground, as faint voices could be heard in the background.

“Can we make it louder, hear what their saying?”

Marcus shook his head. “No, this is as loud as it gets for the real time audio.”

A loud rustling could be heard before the image on the screen became distorted, showing Lucy sitting in the barrel.

“So I can watch.” Caleb’s voice came through the speaker before he placed the lid onto the barrel, positioning the camera in Lucy’s face.

“Can you go back?” Grey asked as Nolan’s computer continued showing the live events.

Marcus pressed a variety of buttons on his computer, going back to when the camera showed Lucy sitting inside the metal barrel.

“Slow it down. There.” Grey pointed out. “That tree in the background, if we can get a location...”

Tim’s eyes stayed trained on the live feed, watching as Lucy began panicking. The nauseousness that Tim had felt all morning intensified as he witnessed his boot being sealed into the container, her fate being decided. He couldn’t stand there and watch what was about to happen, watch her- he walked out of the room, heading straight for the locker room.

Angela gasped as the clack of the lock snapping into place echoed through the metal, Lucy’s breaths becoming shaky as a loud thud and tumbling could be heard before coming to a stop, dirt settling around the barrel as Lucy let out a whimper.

“Mute the computer.” Grey instructed somberly, knowing what was about to come.

“Sarge?” Angela whispered.

Wade turned away from the screen, “Did Wesley get anything from his clients?”

“I.. Let me go check.” She told her commanding officer before walking out of the room, returning five minutes later with Wesley in tow.

“Benjamin Lassie. He’s who you want.”

Sergeant Grey turned towards the couple. “Start pulling everything we can on him, if you see Bradford and West grab them, we could use the hands.”

Angela nodded, walking out of the room and towards where she thinks Tim may be.

“Hey.” She said noticing him walking out of the men’s locker room. “Come on, we’ve got a name from Wesley’s client.”

Tim walked ahead of Angela, flexing his left hand, the motion not going unnoticed by the officer, but Angela chose not to comment as they walked to the closest computer terminal.

She worked on pulling the information about their lead, finding out that the low-level criminal had recently been paroled. “He’s on parole, Officer Scott Francisco.”

Tim and Jackson were able to easily find the man, making a traffic stop, obtaining the name and information that they needed.

Jackson glanced at the superior the entire ride back to the station as Tim made the appropriate phone calls, acquiring a no-knock warrant from a more than happy judge and the Mid-Wilshire’s SWAT team. The two uniformed officers parked a block away, staging as SWAT suited up and went over the plan for the breech.

Tim could feel their moods tumble even further down as their promising lead turned into a bust. “Caleb used Jerry’s identity to get into the prison, get close to Rosalind.” He realized, staring down the man sitting in the floor. “And you were our last shot at saving her.”

He stormed out of the house, throwing his gear into the back of the shop as before slamming the hatch closed. He wanted to lash out, yell at someone, chase down every lead they could grasp. But Tim Bradford was slowly giving up hope.

“Hey, check it out.” Jackson said, pulling the older officer out of his pity.

“What’s that?” he asked solemnly, gesturing towards the folder in the rookie’s hand.

“Copies of every credit card statement from the card that Caleb used in Jerry’s name. He may be good with tech but even when you steal someone’s identity, you can’t erase what’s been bought.”

Tim stood, pulling the folder out of Jackson’s hand. He glanced over the statements, a hopeful smile taking over. “There could be charges in here that leads us to Caleb. Let’s go, we’ve gotta get back to the station, get everyone on it.” He said in a rush, closing the folder as he hurried to the driver’s side of the shop.

Jackson pulled out his phone as he sat down in the passenger seat, hitting the contact for the person he needed as the phone began ringing. “Hey, Caleb stole Jerry’s identity just like Brock Coleman’s. Jerry had copies of every credit statement and gave them to us, we’re on our way back.”

“Good, we’ve got a lead here too. Wesley has been going over some of Rosalind’s biographical data, if we can cross-reference those statements with the data, we can find where he’s keeping Chen. Wesley thinks it’s somewhere that’s near and dear to Rosalind’s heart.”

“We’ll be there in ten.” Jackson told her, hanging up the phone, reaching for the file that was haphazardly thrown onto the dash, scanning through the documents.

True to his words they rolled into the parking lot ten minutes later, both walking quickly into the bullpen, finding Sergeant Grey, Angela and Wesley gathered around a table.

“Hey, hey, we’ve got something. Caleb used Jerry’s identity to rent a post office box in Kern County near the prison. But, he kept it up even after he quit. Stills pay for it, so there must be a place close by.”

“Wait, Kerns County?” Angela asked, digging through the piles of papers in front of her. “Rosalind’s family – her trust owns a farm there.” She said handing the paper over to Tim.

Tim grabbed it, looking at the information as he let out an incredulous laugh. “Son of a bitch.”

“Sergeant Grey!” Marcus huffed as he ran to the table. “She’s not got much longer.”

Sergeant Grey stood, pulling out his cell phone, scrolling through his contacts as he delivered orders. “Call Nolan and Harper, get them headed in that direction.” He instructed before speaking to the other person on the phone. “Hello Sir, we believe we have found Officer Chen. Yes Sir. Thank you.” He said as he ended the call. “Chopper will be here in five. Let’s go.”

The four officers stood on the helipad, Jackson keeping an eye on the live feed with his phone. Angela was on the phone with Kern County Sheriff Department, giving instructions to the other person on the line, telling them about the situation and where they were heading, requesting local backup.

“It looks like she’s talking to herself.” He mumbled, moving the speaker of the phone next to his ear, listening to the quiet melody coming from one of his closest friends. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Tim asked, turning to Jackson.

“She’s- she’s singing.” He whispered in disbelief, pressing the volume button of the already maxed out device as a chill went through his spine.

Jackson pulled the device away from his ear, handing it over to Tim who held it up to his own ear, hearing the soft voice of his rookie come through the speaker.

‘Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me

While I’m alone and blue as can be

Dream a Little Dream of Me’

Tim knew his rookie’s voice, whether it was sitting next to her for hours on end in the shop or listening to the hours long recording of her reading sentence after sentence to help him prepare for his Sergeants exam, he knew her voice. He had heard her sing before, quietly under her breath as she sung along to the song playing on the radio of the shop or her mumbling the words of the song stuck in her head that she had heard on her drive to work that morning. But he knew those words, the melody of the song that he was hearing her softly sing, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

The LA police department helicopter landed on the helipad as Tim stood frozen in place, his rookie’s oxygen deprived voice ringing in his ears.

“Bradford.” Jackson said questioningly. “Sir? Are- are you ok?”

Tim absentmindedly handed the owner of the phone their device back, the wind from the blades of the chopper hitting him, pulling him out of his trance. “Yeah.” He said clearing the emotions that were held his throat. “Let’s go.”

“She’s lost consciousness.” Spoke Jackson through the headset over halfway through the flight. Tim leaned his head back onto the metal wall, silently saying a hopeful prayer as a sense of dread overcame him.

Thirty minutes after takeoff, the helicopter was beginning its decent into an open field when something out of the corner of his eye, caught Tim’s attention.

“A tree.” He said pointing out the right side of the aircraft, remembering the piece of wood from a different perspective. “That’s the tree from the video.”.

The chopper landed, the passengers aboard hastily making their way out of the aircraft as they met the local deputies.

“If our calculations are correct, we’re out of time. Bradford, Lopez make your way up there to the tree, look for fresh dirt. Sheriff, Officer West and I will take your SWAT team and head towards the house where we believe our suspect to be.”

Tim took off in a run, Angela along with a few sheriff deputies following hot on his heels as they quickly approached the hill, scaling it with ease, swiftly reaching the top. He made his way towards the dead tree as Angela instructed the other officers to spread out in different directions in order to cover more ground as he walked the parameter around the dead tree, hoping to find something as he looked for any signs that the ground had recently been disturbed.

The late afternoon sun casted a glow onto the panoramic views around him, showcasing the dry California land that leaves everything in its path tarnished. But the burning star proved to be a blessing instead of a curse as the flash of something metal reflecting the sun’s rays back towards him, gained his attention.

He ran, stumbling over his feet as his knees slammed into the ground. A ring. And not just any ring, it was one his subconscious was familiar with, having seen it adorn her finger a countless number of times.

He picked it up, palming the warm metal holding the opal that was glinting in the sun. ‘She’s close.’ He thought as he stood, looking down at the ground around him before he began to stop on the ground, listening for anything abnormal.

It didn’t take long. “I’ve got her.” He yelled as his voice cracked.

Tim pocketed the ring, calling out once again, louder and more frantically as he fell to his knees, his voice echoing as the footfalls of Angela and the local deputies hurried over. He used his hands, moving away as much of the loose dirt that he could as other hands joined the effort, one of the deputies using an expandable shovel, casting it behind them.

“Come on.” He chanted under his breath as the metal lid of the barrel was exposed. He reached over, undoing the metal clasp as someone shoved the metal of the shovel under the lid, lifting the piece off in ease.

“Lucy.” He sighed as his arms reached in for her slumped form. “Help me get her. Let’s get her.”

“We need medical.” Someone said in the background, speaking into their handheld.

“Lucy.” He said once they extracted her as they laid her down.

“Is she breathing?” Angela asked as he glanced at her chest, finding no movement as his fingers went to her neck, feeling for a pulse.

“No, I’ve got no pulse.”

Tim leaned over, pinching her nose, giving her two rescue breaths as Angela moved beside him, counting out as she performed the thirty compressions. Tim giving her another two breaths, “Come on Lucy.” He whispered.

“Suspect had been neutralized.”

“MedEvac is five out.”

“Dammit Chen! Not like this.” He cursed as Angela counted to thirty once again as he leaned over, once again breathing for her. “Switch.”

Angela moved back and into Tim’s previous position as he laced his fingers together, pushing hard and fast into her chest.

“Tim…” Angela said worriedly.

“No!” He said in between counts. Angela was prepared to give another round of rescue breaths when a gasp came from before them.

“Holy shit.” Angela cursed, letting out the breath she had been holding.

Tim huffed out a laugh, smiling. “Lucy.” He breathed as both her arms rose, preparing for a fight. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re ok. It’s me.”

Lucy looked around with hooded eyes, as her head lulled to the side, staring at Tim as reality settled in, the tears escaping as she began to sob. He leaned over, pulling her into him, mindful of her injuries.

“I’ve got you Lucy.” He mumbled into her hair as her shaky hands grasped onto his uniform for dear life. “I’ve got you.” He repeated as she sobbed in his arms.

The next few hours passed in a blur, the medical helicopter flying in, loading up Lucy and taking her to the closest hospital.

“I’m going with her.” Tim sternly told the flight medic on board as they went to stop him from getting aboard. The medic knew then not put up a fight, watching as the officer climbed aboard, sitting next to his patient.

Soon they were in the air, Lucy holding on to Tim’s hand as the medic began their assessment. Her grasp never waned from his, even in her altered state of consciousness as he ran his free hand over her hair. He stayed by her side, never leaving her until they reached the awaiting staff of the emergency department.

“Sir, I know that she’s your partner, but I’m going to have to ask for you to leave.”

“I’m not-“

“We need to assess her injuries Officer Bradford.” The nurse stated firmly. “And in order to do that, you need to leave.”

“I-“ he hesitated as all the fight left him. “Ok.” He sighed, letting go of her hand. “Just let me- I’ll be back boot.”

Lucy sleepily smiled at his words.

He did come back, never leaving her side for longer than what he deemed necessary, keeping her unconscious form company as he sat at her bedside. They were two hours from home, affirming his decision to not go, at least not until he knew that she was ok. Wesley drove from LA, picking Angela up from the farmhouse with a change of clothes in the trunk, stopping by to give Tim his own fresh clothes and the emergency bag of clothes Lucy kept in her locker.

Jackson showed the next morning, giving Tim a break though he only left to stretch his legs before returning to the room. They sat in silence, Tim filling out his reports as Jackson scrolled through the apps on his phone. Around noon, Jackson stood mentioning going out to grab something to eat from the mom-and-pop burger stand that just so happened to have a second location nearby, Tim giving the rookie some cash and reciting the two orders he knew by heart.

He kept an eye on the clock, knowing that Lucy’s parents were due to arrive at any moment, Tim personally keeping them updated throughout the night on any improvements. There was none as the doctor chose to keep her sedated, but it was the thought that counts.

Tim was sitting on the doctor’s stool at her bedside when she came to, pretending to read a magazine as he watched her wake up. Lucy knew he was fooling no one as she chuckled.

“What are you reading, Teen Rebel?”

Tim looked at her with a teasing grin as he rolled over to her. “They actually have some really insightful political articles.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She said not believing him. “Oh. Which BTS member is your soulmate? It’s gotta be Suga, right?” she asked him as she leveled a look.

“Totally.” He agreed shaking his head as he skimmed the questions, not clear on what she was talking about. “What’s a BTS?”

Lucy laughed, a bad decision as her broken ribs protested at the movement. “Oh God.” She cried out in anguish as she took a steady breath, breathing through the pain.

Tim watched her with concern, masking it as she turned to him with a smile.

“Have you been here all night?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.” he denied, shaking his head as he forced out another no, repeating the word as he looked away from her stare.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Mm-hmm.” She said about to call her training officer out on his lying capabilities when a knock sounded at the door.

“Hey.” Nolan smiled as he walked through the door. “You’re awake.”

Lucy turned her head, changing her posture in the bed as Jackson walked through the door, carrying a bag. “Hey. Is that food?” she asked excitedly, causing the men in her life to chuckle. “What, I’m starving ok?”

“I would wait on the food Officer Chen.” A quite voice said as they walked into the room, knocking on the door. “Doctor Allison Rivera. And you, Lucy Chen are one very lucky lady.” Lucy nodded absentmindedly at the words, she didn’t think herself to be lucky.

“You have several abrasions and a few stiches throughout, as well as a slight concussion along with two broken ribs and moderate dehydration.”

“Does that mean I’m going to be in the hospital for a while?”

“I believe that you can be discharged tomorrow. Your body is dehydrated, and I want to make sure no other complications arise.”

She turned her head, looking towards Tim. “How did you guys find me anyways?”

Tim opened his mouth to speak when Nolan interrupted. “It was all of us. I talked to Rosalind, Jackson found the credit card statements, Angela found the farm, Wesley talked to some of his clients and Tim made all the connections.”

Lucy nodded her head appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“Oh!” Nolan said removing the item from behind his back. “I brought you something.”

She smiled, laughing at the enormous pink teddy bear that was in his hands.  “I can see that.”

“It was the biggest one I could find.”

“I would hope so.” She gingerly laughed once again. “Oh my god, I’m going to need a bigger apartment.”

“I think we’ll be just fine Lucy.” Jackson told her, smiling as he rolled his eyes.

“Thank you Nolan.”

“Hey!” Jackson weakly protested. “I brought you food! Besides, he cannot stay in my room.”

“Well, he is a she, and she is going to be sleeping with me in my bed, since I am clearly never going on a date again.”

“I’m not sure that should be your takeaway.” Doctor Rivera said from the foot of the bed, watching the interaction.

“Oh, hang on.” Nolan said looking at the doctor. “Statistically, that’s actually pretty safe.”

Tim quickly glanced at Lucy before looking away, nodding his head. “Definitely should.”

“Wow, so is this the kind of support and understanding I can look forward to from now on?” she asked as she looked around at each of them.

“Yes.”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh definitely.”

Lucy chuckled at their responses. “That’s great. That’s really good.”

“You hungry?” Tim asked her before looking at the doctor.

“You can eat, just keep the portions small and non-greasy for right now.”

Lucy nodded as she opened the Styrofoam container in front of her. “Wait. Is this- is this a veggie burger and fries with extra pickles?” she asked, looking at Jackson.

“Don’t thank me, it was all Bradford.”

Lucy picked up a fry, turning her head and smiled. “You know me so well.”

Tim laughed as she let out a sigh, chewing the greasy potato. “Too well.”

“Well, I’ve got other rounds to make but I will be back by this evening to check in on you. A nurse will be by shortly to take vitals and give you some medicine for the pain.” Doctor Rivera said, dismissing herself.

“Your parents called me on the way up and said they’re on their way, I’m gonna go meet them downstairs. Come on Nolan.”

“Oh great just who I wanted to see.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes as Jackson left.

“I’ve actually got a date with Grace in three hours, so I’ve got to head back to LA. But I will swing by your apartment tomorrow with pastries.”

Lucy’s face lit up at the word pastries. “Make sure there’s a bear claw!”

“For you, I’ll make sure there’s two.” He smiled, saying goodbye as he walked out of the room.

Lucy sighed, leaning her head back, closing her eyes. “Are my parents seriously coming?” she whined.

“Yes.”

She let out a groan, opening her eyes as she reached for the burger. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them, most of the time- but after all of this, I just don’t-“ she sighed, her words drifting off as she took a bite.

“You’re their only child Chen.”

She swallowed the bite. “I know, but-“

“Give them thirty minutes and then tell them you’re tired.”

Lucy turned her head. “Is that not the equivalent of going to the bathroom on a date and not returning?”

Tim shrugged before hesitantly speaking. “How are you?” he asked, his tone low and laced with concern.

“I’m-“ she began before letting out a sigh “I’m alive.”

He nodded at her honesty. She wasn’t ok, he wasn’t ok, and they both knew it.

She moved her left hand to the edge of the bed, leaving her palm up. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I don’t-“ she began, choking on her words as tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s ok Luce.” He whispered back, placing his hand in hers. Lucy relished in the feel of his hand in hers before a knock on the door tore them apart, her mom rushing in.

Tim rolled the chair away from the bed, wordlessly reminding her of his suggestion as her parents began speaking rapidly. Lucy looked past them towards Tim, her face pleading for help. He chuckled, shaking his head before moving silently towards the door. They weren’t ok, but with time (and a lot of therapy) they could be.

[the1918]

Keller is an affluent suburb of Fort Worth, Texas. Select parts of this article (warning: link contains a disturbing video with the footage of a Latino man being violently abused by white officers).

On Aug. 15, two officers with the Keller police department pepper sprayed Marco Puente directly in the eyes while they pinned him to the ground and handcuffed him. The entire incident was video recorded on multiple dash cam and body worn cameras [...] Puente and his attorneys filed against the officers in Fort Worth District Court on Dec. 15.

(Electrician Marco Puente on vestcam footage and to right)

Marco Puente, an emergency electrician from Keller, sat in the back of a police car for nearly 20 minutes begging for someone to wipe the pepper spray from his eyes. 

On Aug. 15, Marco Puente and his son, Dillon Puente, were driving to Marco Puente’s wife’s grandfather’s house to fix Dillon Puente’s air conditioning in his car. As Dillon Puente approached the home in the Riverdance neighborhood, Sgt. Blake Shimanek pulled him over on a street inside the subdivision for making a wide right turn.

Dash cam and body cam footage provided to the Star-Telegram show how the traffic violation escalated to Marco Puente’s arrest.

In the video, Shimanek walks up to Dillon Puente’s window, which is about three-fourths of the way rolled up, and tells him to roll it the rest of the way down. He asks Dillon Puente to step out and put his hands on the car, which he does. He starts handcuffing the 22-year-old, and asks him, “Why are you asking so suspicious?”

Marco Puente pulls up in the truck across the street and yells to his son, asking what happened. Dillon Puente yells back that he rolled up his window and Shimanek got mad. Marco Puente starts recording the arrest on his cell phone.

“You’re about to be arrested for blocking the roadway if you don’t park and get out,” Shimanek yells to Marco Puente, who is parked by the curb on the opposite side of the street. “You’re interfering with my job.”

Marco Puente, at Shimanek’s demand, backs up the truck and parks in front of his wife’s grandfather’s house. He gets out of the truck and walks up the sidewalk, still recording. Shimanek tells Dillon Puente it was suspicious of him to drive with his window down on a hot day and then roll it up once he got pulled over.

Another officer, identified in the lawsuit as Officer Antik Tomer, pulls up at the scene. Shimanek points at Marco Puente and says, “Watch him.”

“Watch me watch, stand here?” Puente says.

“Better yet,” Shimanek says, “arrest him.”

“For what?” Puente says from the sidewalk.

“For blocking the roadway,” Shimanek says.

Tomer walks over to Puente, grabs his arm and starts to put handcuffs on him. He tells him to drop his phone, which is still recording. Puente asks what he is being arrested for and continues holding his phone.

Shimanek walks across street and puts Puente in a headlock and knocks his phone from his head. He and Tomer push Puente to the ground and Shimanek sits on his back and cuffs him. Tomer pulls out a can of pepper spray and holds it inches from Puente’s face as Puente yells that he isn’t doing anything.

“Dude, oh my god, what are you doing?” he says. “What the heck?”

Shimanek tells Tomer to spray Puente, and Tomer starts spraying him in the face. He takes Puente’s sunglasses off and sprays him again in the eyes.

In the video, Puente’s wife’s grandfather is heard yelling at the officers. He had come out of the house and was also recording officers, and he yells at them and refuses to back up when Shimanek tells him to.

The officers pull Puente, who is yelling that his “eyes are on fire,” to his feet and put him in the back of a police car.

Puente asks for a towel, which Shimanek tells him they will give him soon. Over the next 15 minutes, Puente begs repeatedly for someone to give him a towel or help him wipe his face, but he is ignored.

“This officer literally took nothing and made it into something,” Scott Palmer, another of Puente’s attorneys, said about Shimanek’s actions. “He literally created havoc.”

Puente and his attorneys say he never should have been arrested or pepper sprayed in the first place, but the indifference officers showed to his continued suffering was even more egregious. Shimanek, who is seen on video complaining about the pepper spray burning his arms, wipes at his own skin with a towel, but tells Tomer not to give one to Puente.

Puente, who is Hispanic, was told over and over again as he sat in the police car that he would receive help from paramedics at the jail. But as Tomer drove Puente to the jail, they passed those paramedics — the officers had told EMS to go to the scene, even though Puente had already been driven away.

Once Tomer and Puente reached the jail, Puente was left in the back of the car for another seven minutes.

“You can hear him as they’re sitting in the sally port of the police station casually talking,” Roberts said. “He’s yelling for seven minutes. You see Shimanek complaining of the pepper spray burning him, and he only had it on his on his arms. Puente had it in his eyes.”

Fifteen minutes after being pepper sprayed, Puente received the help he had been begging for when jail attendants — not paramedics — sat him down in a chair and sprayed water in his eyes. Afterward, officers fingerprinted Puente, gave him orange-and-white striped clothes and booked him into jail. Through a sliver in the wall, Puente saw his son being walked into the station as well. From 3 p.m. to 9 p.m., Puente sat in a cell and wondered what had just happened.

“I��m thinking about what the heck went wrong,” Puente said. “I keep going back to that I did nothing illegal. Is it because this officer didn’t like what I was doing? Is it because he has more power than me?”

Puente also thought about how his wife’s grandfather, who is white, yelled at the police and did not move when Shimanek told him to, but he was not arrested.

“So is that the reason they didn’t pursue him?” Puente said. “Did they get me because I’m a brown guy in a nice neighborhood? It kind of seems that way.”

According to body cam footage, Shimanek told his supervisor that he pulled Dillon Puente over because he suspected him of having narcotics, and he arrested him so he could search his car. No drugs were found in the car. Dillon Puente paid the traffic ticket for making a wide right hand turn and was released from jail shortly after his arrest. Puente wasn’t charged with anything.

Every day when he looks in the mirror, Puente sees a scar that reminds him of the day of his arrest — when Tomer pulled Puente’s sunglasses from his face to pepper spray him, he ripped Puente’s nostril.

“So I’ve got this scar on my nose that I see every day,” Puente said. “It’s in the middle of my face. That takes me back, like why is that thing even there. There’s no reason for this to be there.”

His 22-year-old son feels like he’s “always looking over his shoulder,” wondering if he is going to be arrested for “making a wide right turn” again, Puente said.

This happened just miles away from my house. White people—we have got to do better. 

Do not call yourself an ally but still flinch when you hear “ACAB.” Anti-racism is all or nothing.

Because records provided by the Keller police department show the following about the officers who abused Puente:

In 2016, an internal investigation found Shimanek searched a woman’s home without permission and threatened to call Child Protective Services without just cause.

In 2018, Shimanek was the subject of a complaint after he spoke to teachers and made a comment about “women not carrying guns because they would not be able to protect the children during a school shooting.”

In 2019, Tomer was reprimanded when he responded to a “swatting” call and told the caller that he did not want to “respond to this kind of (expletive) again,” according to a written reprimand. He also told the caller that if “somebody calls in again, we won’t respond to this type of call.”

So say it with me, white people: All. Cops. Are. Bastards.

Get these abusers off the streets.

[purplesurveys]

1221

Are you mad at your best friend right now? I have absolutely no reason to be angry with Angela now and certainly not since our last petty childhood fight in like, 2009.

Do you know anybody with a pet snake? I used to know somebody, but she’s since gone off the radar and idek if her pet snake would still be alive at this point.

Do you buy your underwear in a pack or seperately? I can go either way.

Have you ever made fun of anybody and later became their friend? OMG yesss this was the entire background of my friendship with Sofie. Though I wouldn’t say I made fun of her...I just found her really annoying at first, and quite ditzy, too. Then something just clicked and worked out along the way and we ended up being best friends for quite some time until we went our separate ways shortly after college life started.

Is the lamp on in the room you're in? Yes; it’s one of my favorite pieces in my room.

Do you have a pair of shoes that you can only wear with one or two outfits? Nah, not really. I mostly own sneakers, which can go with most things casual.

Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? Most drinks, honestly; but mainly, I like my coffee and water cold.

Did you sleep in past noon today? I don’t think I’ve ever done that. The latest I’ve woken up is probably a little over 10.

Did your grandma ever tell you about her love life? Neither of them have.

Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? Possibly, but I no longer recall it.

Anything exciting happening in the month of September? I don’t think so. There are couple of birthdays in the family, but we don’t have plans for those days yet.

Who is your last missed call from? Some media or blogger I ignored because I don’t take calls.

When was the last time you ate Frosted Flakes? I can’t remember...I don’t really eat cereal.

Did you ever NOT want a substitute in a certain class? Yeah, for classes I hated, like math.

Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? Not regularly. When a homeless person or street child knocks on my car while waiting in traffic I do try to give them some money and/or snack, if I have one in my bag.

Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? I was barely conscious in 2001. I am also not American.

Do you know any songs that are older than you are? ...Many?

Are there framed pictures of you anywhere in your house? Yeah we have some framed photos going up the staircase. I also have my Prep graduation portrait up in my room.

Compared to other people of your age would you be considered 'NORMAL'? Ugh.

Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? I don’t have an MP3 player but I don’t think I ever had Hilary Duff on any of my music players.

Who is worst in your family about calling people back? Probably Nina as she hates making calls to begin with.

Do you like peanut M&M's? Nah, I hate nuts in my chocolate.

When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Safe to say well over a year ago. It’s not my snack of choice haha I never understood why I had to bite into my ice cream.

When was the last time you ate jelly beans? August 2019.

When was the last time you had hot chocolate? Around a month ago, I’d say? My mom fixes me a mug of hot choco every once in a while.

Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? I haven’t.

What was the last song stuck in your head? I think it had been Rain by BTS.

Do you enjoy doing math? If I know how the math works and have the formulas memorized, I can definitely find it fun. Math had actually been pretty manageable for me in school, at least right until we reached trig and calc which were just bleck.

Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? Oh without a doubt. I’m 200% sure everyone in the family has secrets we never share; we’re not open with each other.

Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? Yes.

Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? I will pose if I’m comfortable but most of the time I just smile.

Are there any colors you will NOT wear? I avoid orange as much as possible.

Do you use scented soap in the shower? Nah, just a normal-scented one.

Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? That was never part of my plans, no. 

Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? Angela and Hans. I was drunk, so yes I had fun lol.

Do you like convertibles? I don’t really care for them, or for cars in general.

Have you ever yelled at the television? So many times, usually when a favorite singer or band is performing OR when I’m watching a really intense sports game - usually basketball or wrestling.

How many songs on your MP3 player are about sex? -

Do you like water parks? I think they are nasty for the most part.

Dark or light colored jeans? Light.

Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? Nope.

Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? Even more so no.

Would your friends describe you as nerdy? I don’t think they would.

How many different colors are you wearing right now? Five.

Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? Nope.

--

Are you double-jointed anywhere? I am not.

What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? You know, I’ve never even understood the rules of Monopoly...I’ve never bothered to play a round of it. Board games are usually too complicated for me lol.

Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? Not a tornado, no. But I’ve experienced countless hurricanes and floods.

Did you play in the sand box as a kid? It was my favorite part of the playground and I was always exclusively found in a sandbox. I liked the texture (still do) + no one was ever there, so as a shy kid it worked out perfectly for me.

How about on the monkey bars? I tried it every now and then but I wasn’t a very active kid, so my arms would feel strained fairly quickly. It was never the first thing I’d run to whenever I got to go to the playground.

Have you ever made an alarm go off? I don’t think so.

Have you ever colored your eyebrows? Nope.

Did you ever own a pop-up book? Many of them, as a kid.

Have you ever honked at a biker? Yes but only whenever they swerve a little bit and are about to hit my car.

Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? No?

Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? No, I’ve played neither version. The sport doesn’t interest me.

Do you use gel in your hair? Only for formal events where I can’t afford to show up with my hair all frizzy.

Do you own a garden gnome? We don’t.

Are any of the rooms in your house painted blue? Nope, they’re all white. My parents’ room used to be green (came with the house), but it looked gross so it didn’t take long before they hired someone to paint the walls white.

Do you kick off your shoes as soon as you walk in the door? Yes. Actually, since the start of COVID, we’ve taken to removing our shoes even before we enter. We have a mat right by the front door where we can properly take off our shoes and head inside already barefoot.

Have you ever judged a book by its cover? Sometimes, but I don’t let it linger.

What is the most effective device at the gym? I don’t go to the gym.

Can you drive a stick shift? Hahahaha no, and I’m not so sure I’m ever willing to learn.

Have you ever picked on a substitute teacher? That’s mean and no, I haven’t.

How good are you at giving directions? Terrible. As much as possible I don’t do it and just refer the person asking to my nearest friend/companion.

When was the last time you looked out the window nearest you? Just a few minutes ago, actually. I put an arm out to check if it’s chilly outside since it rained all day today.

Have you ever got dressed with the windows open? Never. I make sure to pull down my blinds every time.

Have you ever given a foot massage? No.

Do public restrooms freak you out? They don’t freak me out per se but like I rarely go into them and use them, even before Covid. The idea of sharing a toilet with strangers is super gross lol and many of them don’t even put away their trash properly.

Have you ever taken a shower outside? I may have, but nothing sticks out.

Have you ever been to a junkyard? I don’t think so.

What do you think of Brad Pitt? I don’t really have an opinion...I loved his episode on Friends, but that’s it.

Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? Yes, a few times.

Have you ever used pennies to pay for something that cost over 50 cents? I don’t speak US currency, but yeah there’ve been around 1-2 times I had to pay for something worth P50 with just coins. It’s always been embarrassing lol so I try to avoid it and be prepared with paper bills as much as I can.

If a place makes you pay for delivery - do you still tip the driver? Yes.

Without the aid of a cell phone - do you know your parents numbers by heart? Just my mom’s. Since my dad is always in and out of the country (at least until the pandemic), I’ve never gotten to memorize his number.

Can you name 10 former presidents? Arroyo, Macapagal, Aquino, another Aquino, Estrada, Ramos, Magsaysay, Quirino, Quezon, Roxas.

But if we’re talking about US presidents...Obama, Trump, Clinton, Roosevelt, another Roosevelt I believe, Nixon, Reagan, Carter, Lincoln, Washington. I hope I got them right hahaha.

Have you ever bought a gift for a teacher? Just as a kid.

Is your bedroom carpeted? Nope.

Right now, what color is your tongue? Pink.

When was the last time you had a Tootsie Pop? Years ago. I don’t have it a lot.

If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? iPhone 12 Pro Max.

Who is your favorite super hero? I don’t have any.

How about your favorite villain? I don’t really have any, either.

Do you know anybody who works at a bank? Possibly, but I can’t place a name right now.

What do you usually order from your favorite fast food place? That would be KFC, and I usually order either their Zinger or Twister. FUCK now I want to get KFC :((

Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? No, because none of them ever reach this part of the village. We never have to prepare any candy lol.

What perfume/cologne do you wear the most? Heat Rush.

Can you name all 7 dwarfs? I always miss out on one or two.

Does the early bird really catch the worm? Idk what this expression is.

[omgjasminesimone]

Happiest Place on Earth

Logan x MC (Ellie)

Summary: Logan and Ellie go to Disneyland.

Now with Epilogue

Word count: 2500

Ellie lounges in her childhood bed, already dressed in her sleep shorts and tank top despite the fact that it’s only 8 pm. She’s currently unemployed, so her sleep schedule is a little off. Ellie really wishes she could land a job. Being out of her father’s house for four years and then returning to discover he still treats her like a child makes her wish she could afford to pay rent and move. Ellie lets out an impatient sigh as she continues to wait for her Grubhub order to finally arrive. Sure, LA is notorious for its terrible traffic, but this wait is ridiculous! She regrets pre-tipping the driver in the app.

The doorbell rings. “Finally.” Ellie mutters to herself, quickly running down the stairs and flinging the door open. She freezes, eyes widening as she takes him in, just casually standing on her father’s door step.

Logan smiles sheepishly. “Hey troublemaker.”

Ellie wants to simultaneously kiss him and slap him, but she’s rooted to her spot. It’s been over 4 years since she’s heard a word from him, since he ran after promising her he was done running.

Ellie crosses her arms over her chest, feeling defensive as she drinks in his manlier frame, the light stubble on his chin, the weariness in his eyes. “What are you doing here Logan?” Ellie questions.

Logan shoves his hands in his jean pockets. “I wanted to see you.” He replies softly.

“You wanted to see me?” Ellie asks incredulously, tears welling in her eyes. “You left me Logan! You ran and stayed away for years without even so much as a letter to tell me you were okay! I loved you so much, I would have run with you if you just asked.” Ellie whimpers, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Logan takes her face in his hands and wipes her tears away with his calloused thumbs. “You had to go to school, get back on the right path. And I didn’t run. I would never run from you.” He reveals.

Ellie looks up at him with watery eyes. “What?” She questions.

Logan smiles sadly, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “I turned myself in Ellie.” He explains. “I served my time. I just got out two days ago. I’m in a halfway house now, it’s an anti-recidivism program I got into because of my good behavior when I was in jail. They hook you up with a job with a company run by a former felon, someone who gets it.” Logan adds.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have visited you, I would have written you letters every day. I would have waited for you Logan.” Ellie insists, burying her face into his chest and hugging his waist as she pictures him all alone in jail while she was out enjoying college.

His arms encircle her shoulders, returning her embrace. “I know troublemaker, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to imprison you too.” Logan responds. “But now I’m out, and you’re done with school, and if you’ll have me, I’d like to start fresh.” Logan offers sheepishly, loosening his hold so he can look down at her. “Assuming you’re not seeing anybody. I checked your Facebook, and it said you were single. I don’t know if that’s current though…” Logan trails off.

Ellie lets him sweat for a moment before answering his question. “You’re in luck. I recently broke up with my ex-boyfriend. He said he didn’t want to do long distance after graduation, even though he got a job in San Diego. I guess 120 miles is too much to overcome.”

“He’s an idiot to let you go. If you give me another chance, I’ll love you the way you deserve.” Logan says reverently.

“And no more secrets? You promise this time?” Ellie prompts.

“Secretly turning myself in is the last secret, I swear.” Logan responds, feeling encouraged when he starts to lean down to her lips and she doesn’t pull away.

Ellie closes the distance, pushing herself onto her tiptoes and weaving her fingers through his now shorter, but still long, hair. Both their mouths open and their tongues tangle together as he grips her waist, hauling her completely against him. It’s like all the time they’ve spent apart melts away as they kiss. He left an imprint on her, and now, back in his arms, she finally feels whole again.

Logan pulls away when he needs to breathe, but he can’t stay away for long, pressing a quick peck to her kiss swollen lips. “Is your dad home?” He questions, hands slipping under her tank top and trailing over the soft skin of her lower back.

“He’s working a night shift.” Ellie replies, watching the glint that appears in Logan’s eyes when he realizes they have the place to themselves.

Logan steps into the house, making sure to lock the door behind him before gathering Ellie into his arms and hurrying up to her room.

30 minutes later, Ellie’s food finally arrives. But she’s a little preoccupied, so the delivery driver leaves it on the porch.

…

..

6 months later

 “I thought you said the lines wouldn’t be bad in February Ellie.” Logan complains, leaning against the railing as they continue to wait to board Space Mountain.

“This isn’t bad at all. In the summer, these lines can be up to 3 hours.” Ellie responds, and then she tries to soothe his slight irritation by looping her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him softly “I promise you it will be worth it. I wouldn’t lead you wrong on your very first trip to Disneyland.”

Ellie had insisted on getting them tickets for his birthday after finding out he had never been. Logan had tried to convince her that the money would be better spend saving up for rent for when they got an apartment together, but his girlfriend was undeterred. He only has 3 more months until he can leave the halfway house, no more curfew, no more parole, he’ll be truly free. Ellie got a job a few months ago, working as a consultant. She doesn’t love it, but it pays pretty well. Her income coupled with what he makes as a mechanic means they can afford a one bedroom in a LA suburb. To Logan, it feels like things are finally starting to fall into place.

Logan smiles when Ellie breaks the kiss, pulling her back in for another more passionate one. Ellie pulls away after a few seconds. “Watch the PDA. There are children present.” Ellie gestures to the little girl waiting in line in front of them with her mother. The little girl’s attention is firmly on the pair of them as her mother seems to be busy on the phone. Logan smiles at her and the girl blushes and looks away.

“No, that’s not what I told him. I don’t know where he got that price point, it’s way too low, it’s not going to work.” The stressed out mother mutters into the phone, massaging her temples. “I’m aware of that Charles.” She spits out, pressing her cell phone more firmly to her ear in an attempt to drown out the loud sounds of the theme park. “What? I can’t hear you. Wait, one second.” The mother turns to Ellie and Logan. “I hate to have to ask this, but can you keep an eye on her for a few minutes while I take this call? You guys look like a wholesome couple.” The mother pleads.

Ellie nods. “Of course, we’ll take good care of her.”

The mother offers an appreciative smile at the young pair before she hurries off. Ellie turns to Logan. “Did you hear that? Wholesome! We should report that back to your parole officer.” She whispers, smirking at him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called wholesome before. Forget my parole officer, we need to tell your dad.” Logan retorts quietly. Detective Wheeler still isn’t a fan of Logan. He’s spent quite a bit of time trying to talk Ellie out of moving in with him, to no avail.

“I bet it’s our matching Disneyland sweatshirts and the ears giving off the wholesome vibe. Isn’t that well worth the $150 you had to spend, since you insisted on buying mine for me?”

Logan winces slightly as he remembers seeing that ridiculously high number come up on the gift store cash register. “That was a little steep for the apparel, but if it makes you happy it was worth it. Your happiness is priceless.” Logan’s charm comes through, as always.

Elle grins at him, giving him a chaste kiss. Normally, a sweet comment like that would have earned him a steamy make out session, but they’re in the middle of babysitting.

Ellie squats down to the little girl’s level. “Hi, I’m Ellie. And he’s Logan.” Logan offers a wave when Ellie points at him.

The girl smiles at them.  “Hi, I’m Katie.” She says shyly.

“So Katie, what’s your favorite ride?” Ellie asks.

Katie grins. “It’s A Small World. What’s your’s?”

“I can’t possibly pick just one, that’s like asking me to pick a favorite child. I love Disneyland in general.” Ellie answers.

“What’s your favorite?” Katie directs her question at Logan, who rubs behind his neck sheepishly.

“Well, so far I’ve been on the Pirates of the Caribbean one and It’s a Small World, so the Pirates one I guess.”

Katie’s jaw drops. “This is your first time at Disneyland? But you’re old!”

“22 – I mean 23” Logan corrects when he remembers that he is in fact 23 today “isn’t that old.” He says somewhat defensively, but he’s just playing at being offended. He crouches down next to Ellie to be eye level with Katie. “How old are you?” He asks.

Katie puts up 5 fingers triumphantly.

“Have you started school yet?” Ellie asks, and Katie nods excitedly. “What’s your favorite part?”

Katie has a lot to say on the subject, and the conversation flows until her mother returns. “Thank you.” She mouths at the pair as she and Katie turn away from the pair to continue waiting.

Ellie turns back to Logan, trying to decipher what the look he’s giving her means. “What?” She finally asks when she realizes she has no idea why he’s looking at her like that.

“You’re going to be a really great mom when we have babies.” He comments, pulling her into his arms.

Ellie loops her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “When? Not if? You’re awfully confident.” Ellie teases.

“I know that you love me, you’re not going anywhere.” Logan teases back, kissing the bridge of her nose. It tickles a little, causing Ellie’s nose to wrinkle. He smiles softly, allowing his eyes to close before capturing her lips this time.  

She pulls away slightly after a few moments, speaking against his lips. “How many kids will we have?” She asks.

“I don’t know, I think a lot though. Like, 8 or 9.” Logan answers.

Ellie steps back in surprise. “8 or 9? That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to carry them around, or push them out.”

Logan smirks, gripping her hand and pulling her to him again. “Not all biologically our’s Ellie. I do want 2 or 3 biological kids though. I want them to look like you, and be smart like you.” Logan reveals, resting his head atop her’s as he hugs her to him.

He can feel her smile against his neck. “I hope they’re kind and brave like you. And I hope they get your hair.” Ellie responds, tangling her hands in his soft locks. He’s growing it out again.

“Oh, they will. My hair genes are strong.” Logan teases, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Ellie looks up at him. “So what about the other 6 or 7 kids? Adopted?” Ellie asks.

“I was thinking fostered, actually. So it’s not like we’d have 9 kids in the house at one time. That would be a lot. I was placed in homes with 8 other kids sometimes, and it definitely wasn’t ideal. I think we’d be great foster parents, and there are a lot of bad ones out there, trust me on that one.” Logan reminisces on his own childhood in foster care, and Ellie squeezes him comfortingly.

“How does foster care work? If they wanted to stay permanently, could we adopt them?” Ellie questions.

“Well, the hope is always that their parents get their stuff together and reunite with their kid, but that doesn’t always happen. So in that case, we could adopt them out of foster care.” Logan answers.

“This is important to you, isn’t it?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah, it is. I want to give a foster child the kind of loving home environment that I wanted.” Logan replies.

“Then I’m 100% on board. Although we have a lot of steps to go before we start seriously considering kids. We have to move in together first, make sure we don’t actually hate each other.”

“I could never hate you. I love every single thing about you Ellie Wheeler. You think I would wear these stupid Mickey Mouse ears for just anyone?”

Ellie laughs, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you too.” She promises between increasingly passionate kisses. As they kiss, Ellie starts to envision the future he’s painted. Their future family. Family trips to Disneyland. Tears prickle at the back of her eyes with the knowledge of how much she wants that with him, how much she loves him.

Ellie pulls away from him. “Let’s get out of here for a little bit. I want to be alone.” She says suggestively.

Logan gestures to Space Mountain, they’re almost to the front of the line now. “I thought you wanted to ride this.”

“I’d rather ride you.” She whispers in his ear, delighting in the way he shivers at her words.

Logan grips her hand, leading her out of the line and to his car with the dark tinted back windows.

…

..

.

An hour later, the two lay cuddled up in the backseat of Logan’s Devore GT, their clothes scattered all over the car. “You ready to go back in there?” Logan asks, idly tracing patterns over Ellie’s ribcage.

Ellie gently runs her thumb over the smudged stamp on his hand to allow them re-entry to the park. “I want to stay here for just a little bit longer.” She answers.

Logan kisses her forehead. “No complaints here.”

They lay in contented silence for a few moments before Ellie breaks the quiet. “You know, it’s funny you skipped marriage talk and went straight to kids.” She comments, gazing into his eyes.

Logan arches an eyebrow. “I thought marriage was implied. Let me clarify for you, I do in fact want to marry you Ellie Wheeler.”

Ellie blushes despite herself at hearing him admit that so earnestly. “I want to marry you too.” She returns, kissing him softly. “But don’t think that that counts as a proposal Logan. I want the whole thing, big public romantic gesture and all.”

“Like a Disneyland proposal?” Logan questions softly, smirking when she looks at him with wide eyes.

taglist:  @choicesarehard @ifyouseekheart @brightpinkpeppercorn @regina-and-happiness @drakexnadira @flyawayboo @fairydustandsarcasm @alesana45 @umiumichan @maxwellsquidsuit @lahelable @god-save-the-keen @mrsmckenziesworld @paisleylovergirl @iplaydrake @sinclaire-made-me-sin @hazah @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @cora-nova @justdani14 @lady-dianelewis @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @badchoicesposts @client-327 @riverrune @liamzigmichael4ever @princessstellaris @mrskaneko 

[misssophiachase]

A while back the lovely @megansarah11 asked for a Klaroline drabble prompt inspired by Sybil and Tom from Downton Abbey (modern-day version). Apologies I never got to it love but I’m so excited about the movie coming out tomorrow so thought I’d finally write something : ) Hope you like it. Lyrics by Tracy Chapman.

He’s an Uber driver she wants to hate, she’s the daughter of an influential person he wants to hate but a mutually beneficial arrangement might change all that. 

Fast Car

You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere

“Five minutes late,” she muttered from the backseat, stabbing at the buttons on her cell phone. “And one less star for lack of decorum.”

He’d picked her up outside Columbia University but given it was peak hour and hundreds of students milling around campus he’d struggled to see her even if it was her responsibility to place his license plate first. 

Glancing at the impressive looking college in the distance while he waited, Klaus wished he could afford to study there. His GPA was impressive so too his SAT scores during high school but he couldn’t afford college and scholarships were few and far between. 

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t drive an Uber for fun, in fact, he only drove because he needed the money to support his family not rude commentary from passengers mid-trip. 

This type he’d seen before, the epitome of a spoiled princess, although Klaus had to admit she was easy on the eye; blonde waves, porcelain skin, pink lips and legs for days encased within that leather mini-skirt. Daddy’s little girl had obviously decided putting the Uber driver out of business would be a fun distraction on the way out with friends. 

“Five minutes late is reasonably good for New York traffic, although I’m sure you know that already, but what exactly is wrong with my decorum?” He asked, probably against his better judgment but Klaus was bored and needed some entertainment to pull him out of his Friday night funk. 

“Lack of decorum you mean and last time I checked that was none of your business.”

“Well, if you’re going to review my services aloud, it’s a little difficult to ignore,” Kaus offered, looking at her in his rearview mirror curiously, noting those expressive blue eyes widening in shock.

She didn’t respond immediately, obviously thrown off by his reply. Instead, she proceeded to punch at her cell with more vigor and Klaus knew he’d lost at least another star in the process. He wasn’t phased and decided he’d much prefer music than her thoughts anyway.  

“What the hell is this?” She growled, finally finding her voice as the music reverberated loudly through the speakers. 

“It’s called music, sweetheart.”

“I’m aware it’s music,” she growled, “and don’t call me that.”

“It’s the Clash.” 

“Well, the name seems fitting given the lack of musicality,” she shared. Before she could eviscerate him again via review Klaus replied. 

“I should have known I suppose.”

“Should have known what exactly?”

“That someone so uptight and privileged wouldn’t understand punk rock.”

“I understand it perfectly,” she huffed. “In fact, I admire the way the genre has pioneered political messaging over the decades.”

“Really? You do?” He inquired, not expecting that response from the princess in his backseat. He decided she must be taking a few political electives and thought she knew everything.

“Yes, and, while we’re at it, everyone knows the Clash. I didn’t think you’d be so easily fooled.”

“Well, excuse me if you don’t look the type.” 

“You got me,” she admitted, his crimson lips curved into a smile knowing he’d won the argument. “I’m actually more of a Ramones fan if I’m to be completely honest.”

“Figures, you’d pick the band with the conservative guitarist.”

“I was more of a Joey fan, not Johnny if you must know. I ought to really address your judgmental tendencies in my review.” Klaus had to admit she knew her punk rock and the fact brother Joey was far more liberal than his older brother Johnny. 

“Well, given that, my tardiness and lack of decorum at least I’m consistent, love.”  

“I’d be curious to know just what your other passengers think about typecasting their musical tastes and political beliefs. And, by the way, you’re down to one star, buddy.”

Klaus could tell by consulting the rearview mirror she hadn’t bothered to look down at her phone once and a sly smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

She was enjoying this and Klaus had to admit he was too. It also didn’t hurt just how cute she looked twirling a blonde lock in her fingers and biting the right corner of her bottom lip either. 

“I’m amazed I still have one star,” he teased, realizing he had nothing to lose at this point. “Daddy must hate that his daughter is a Democrat.”

“You have no idea, not that I’m trying to entertain your stereotypes at all,” she mumbled, laying her head back, her blonde waves fanning out across the seat. “I think he’d disown me if I wasn’t his only child.”

“Well, then I’m sorry I judged you,” he offered, his eyes meeting hers briefly.��“I definitely deserve that review.”

“Well, there’s still time to prove yourself,” she smiled deviously. “How about we make a detour and you can make it up to me?”

Maybe we make a deal

“You brought me to Central Park?” Klaus shivered, trying to ignore just how frozen his toes were and hoping it didn’t spread to other much-needed regions. 

Klaus had been unable to help himself, offering his jacket to his passenger who was less clothed and insisted they visit the Bethesda Fountain. It was empty given the season and this time of night.   

“If this is a frostbite competition, I give in,” he chuckled whilst trying to battle the chill. 

“This is my favorite place in the city,” she shared, looking upwards. The sky was clear tonight, the moon barely visible but multiple stars twinkling in the distance. “I like to come here when no one else is around.” 

“Well, you certainly chose the optimal time.” He agreed, hoping she’d get to the point sooner rather than later. As a driver, it wasn’t his role to get out of the car but for some reason, she’d enticed him into the cold. Klaus decided to blame it on his need for a good review, well in case anyone asked. “Don’t you want to meet your friends?”

“Maybe later,” she replied, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain and patting the spot next to her. Klaus wasn’t one to come on command but he’d long abandoned his usual routine when she’d jumped into his car. “I’ll pay extra and up your stars, promise.”

“It’s not about the money or the review,” Klaus admitted, probably too quickly. “I just like all my appendages working at full capacity.”

“Looks pretty good to me,” she shot back, a cheeky smile crossing her features as her eyes grazed his crotch. Klaus thought he’d pegged her when she jumped into his car but was finding it difficult to concentrate given just how unpredictable she’d proven.   

“You were not what I expected at all.”

“I have that effect on people,” she grinned. “My father doesn’t like it all that much, usually has one of his drivers take me around the city so as to avoid anything untoward.”

“And that’s not a nice, fatherly thing to do I assume?” 

“He does it to spy on me,” she growled. “It’s like I’m eight years old all over again and he’s chasing Liam O’Neil out of my treehouse.”

“What exactly were you doing in said treehouse?”

“We were playing doctors and nurses,” Klaus smirked knowingly, causing her to jab him in the ribs. “Get your head out of the gutter it was all above board. If anything it made me realise just what a bad nurse Liam made.”

“So, why no driver tonight then?”

“I snuck out before he arrived,” she admitted. “I wanted to spend my night my own way.”

“My curiosity is piqued, who exactly is your father?” 

“Republican Congressman for the 2nd District,” she murmured. “Talk about a total buzzkill. He has this tendency to put a dampener on my life in general and not just because of his choice of political party.”

“Wow, that was not who I was expecting at all when we started our discussion.”

“Oh, is that what you call it? From memory, it was all about you questioning my musical tastes and insulting my beliefs.”

“We haven’t even scratched the surface of a real political debate and you know it, Caroline.” For some reason that made Klaus smile in anticipation of a rematch.

“You said my name,” she smiled. “And here I thought I’d forever be known as love or sweetheart or whatever you call all the women you pick up.” Klaus didn’t miss her double meaning. 

“Assuming I pick up all these women, love,” he smirked flashing his dimples, noticing her creamy skin flush a cute shade of pink as he did. 

“So, any chance you’d consider driving me around?” His eyebrows shot up curiously wondering how they’d moved from pick-ups to fully-fledged driving.  “Urgh not in that way,” she groaned, jabbing him again. Klaus had to admit he was quite enjoying throwing around double entendres especially if it warded off the chill. 

“What? You mean like a chauffeur? It’s not really my thing and I’m not sure your father would approve,” he whistled. “We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“He doesn’t need to know that. I just need more space and this arrangement could be mutually beneficial.”

“And what do I get exactly?”

“You get money and I get freedom,” she shot back. “Seems like the perfect arrangement.”

“Except for the obvious,” he said, “Your father probably has the most stringent vetting process in place for the position of driving around his only daughter.”

“Just leave it to me.”

“Why does that worry me?”

“Because for the most part, and not that I want to prove your earlier assessment correct, my father does most things I ask. It’s either because he loves me or doesn’t want me to make a scene. Either scenario works I suppose.” Klaus could tell by the hurt in her voice that she cared about what he thought more than she liked to portray. “You’re English, surely we can sell you as some Margaret Thatcher-loving Tory who came to America to discover his dream.”

“Of being a chauffeur?”

“Of being a chauffeur who is saving for college to become a lawyer at a private equity practice in Washington DC and then the next Attorney-General in a Republican White House.”

“Sounds exactly like me,” he joked. “It seems like you’ve offered this position to others before me.”

“No, that’s just pretty much every guy my father has tried to set me up with since I was eighteen.”   

“I think that will be a tough sell, love.”

“But just think about all the money you could make, Uber driving would be peanuts in comparison.” 

Klaus wasn’t motivated by money but given his mother’s health problems he knew the extra cash would make a difference with her treatment. He’d be stupid to pass up an offer like that and if it meant more time to discuss politics with Caroline Klaus certainly wasn’t complaining. 

Maybe she needed more freedom and maybe he needed more money but for some reason, there seemed to be an underlying reason neither had verbalized. 

It was as if she wanted an escape just as much as he did.

Maybe together we can get somewhere, any place is better

[emailsfromjanice]

Janice: 1  Assholes: 0

Claire: How's your day going so far? Janice: You mean aside from the man who harassed me in my car?

Claire: What!?!?

Janice: I was driving in my subdivision and remembered I needed to make a phone call. So I pulled into that cul-de-sac by the school, you know the one. I parked off to the side and put my blinkers on cause I didn't want to get a ticket for driving and using my cell phone at the same time.

Claire: ....Okay... Janice: So I'm sitting there with the phone to my ear and this man in a minivan drives up next to me. He rolls down his window and starts going off on me about how this is private property, a private community, I shouldn't be here, all this stuff. Claire: But you live there! Janice: So I finish my call and then wait for him to stop yelling. Then I say, "I live in this subdivision. I've lived here for years. I'm pulled over in an empty cul-de-sac making a phone call. There is no traffic. What is your problem?" But he starts yelling even more.

Claire: This is so bizarre.

Janice: No it's not. This happens to me every once in a while. Men like this are just assholes who go through life yelling at women because they can.  

Claire: Ok, fair point. Go on.

Janice:  I did not cuss at him. I did not get mad. I just looked at him like a mother who was very disappointed in her small child and I said — now this is the trick, Claire. Try this the next time some strange man starts yelling at you. I said, “What is your name?" He went "Uh...uh...why do you want to know?" They will never give you their name. They know they're misbehaving and don't want to get caught. When you ask them their name, they know you've caught them. That’s the trick. Claire: That's actually kind of brilliant. Janice: So I ask again. He asks why I want to know.  I say, "Well, I live here. I figure I should know my neighbors. What is your name?" He won't tell me. I don't think he'd ever been asked that question right after he presented the world with one of his unsolicited temper tantrums. Then I noticed that he has this incredibly tacky turquoise cross hanging from his rear view mirror. So I pointed to it and said, "Oh, are you a Christian? I’m surprised you would consider yourself a Christian and think it’s okay to speak to someone like this." Claire: You did not say that. Janice: And then I said — Claire: There's more? Janice:  — and then I said, "I'm so sick of people like you speaking to women like this. With a virus and the election and the protests, you're upset because I pulled over to talk on the phone? That is your big complaint about the world?" Claire: This is great. And then what happened?! Janice: He just huffed and puffed and rolled up his window and drove off. Claire: That’s it? He just drove off? Janice: Well, they certainly never apologize. All they ever do is give up and go away. Claire: That's so anticlimactic. Janice: I'm just so tired of men like this. They're all the same. They even look alike. They have gray or white hair and glasses and they're all so uninteresting. This particular one was some dad in a minivan. He thought he was going to be able to pull over and scare a poor little old lady into behaving the way he wants women to behave. Instead he met me.

[aeneidpdf]

ballpark au (2/?)

title: go home happy

chapter: 2/?

fandom: the long walk

word count: 4k+

summary: au where the long walkers work at a ballpark. in this chapter, ray works his first game at the gate

link to previous chapter: here

ao3 link: here 

“Are you new?”

Ray looked up sharply as the booming voice addressed him. The voice belonged to his team leader at Gate C, who had introduced himself as Scramm. Ray nodded, struggling to find his voice. Scramm was a large, imposing man. His height and broad shoulders immediately intimidated Ray. He wondered how Scramm knew that he was new- he guessed he looked scared.

A blond man laughed as he filled up his water bottle. He was wearing a white shirt like Scramm, but he didn’t look as frightening. He was closer to Ray in height, though his muscled arms revealed that he was quite fit. “Goddamn rookies,” he snorted, shaking his head. “You scared him speechless, Scramm!”

Ray frowned, but Scramm just rolled his eyes. “Don’t pay any mind to Parker,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Ray Garraty.”

Parker twisted the cap of his water bottle closed and left the gate, heading into the seating bowl. Ray watched him go, and then turned back to Scramm as he scanned the clipboard he was holding.

“Ray Garraty… here you are,” he mumbled to himself as he found Ray’s name on the sheet and marked down that he was indeed in attendance. “Have you ever worked the gate before?”

Ray shook his head. “No, sir. This is my first day.”

Scramm nodded. “Well, it’s a good game to start on. We’re not gonna be too busy.” Ray was relieved to hear that, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Pearson!” Scramm called, and a scrawny man in glasses looked their way. He had been chatting by the water cooler with another man who also wore glasses.

“Yeah, chief?” he asked.

“I need you to scan tickets today,” Scramm said. “I want to get Ray started on bowls, and it’ll be good to have Harkness there to teach him.”

“Tickets?” Pearson repeated. He looked uneasy.

“Yeah, scanner’s in the cage,” Scramm replied, pointing to the metal cabinet next to the water cooler where the two men were standing.

“I haven’t done tickets in three years,” Pearson grumbled to himself, but he grabbed the scanner from the cage nonetheless. Ray felt guilty for taking his job.

“Harkness?” Scramm called, and the other man looked up. He was shorter and stockier than Pearson, but had similar thick-rimmed glasses. “Can you run Ray through how to do bowls?”

Harkness nodded, and gestured for Ray to follow him. “So your name is Ray?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Harkness,” he introduced, holding out his hand for Ray to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. Welcome to Gate C.” With that, Harkness made a dramatic sweeping gesture with his left arm.

The gate was divided into four lanes, separated by red bike racks. He could see the four metal detectors, with a table set up next to each of them. Beyond those were the tables where the bag checkers worked. Harkness headed over to the fourth metal detector, and Ray followed.

“Have you been to a game before?” he asked.

“Yeah, loads of times.” Gate C was actually the gate that he and his family always came through. It was the gate closest to the cheap street parking in downtown Portland. In fact, Ray had faintly remembered Scramm from games he’d been to the previous year.

“Alright, good,” Harkness said, and gestured toward the table set up to the left of the metal detector. “You stand behind the table.” Ray immediately did as Harkness said. On the table in front of him, there were two small gray bowls. “Alright, so you’re on bowls, and I’m the traffic cop. When people come up to the metal detector, you’re gonna ask them to put their bags on the table and take all the metal out of their pockets and put it in the bowls.”

Ray nodded. “Phones, keys.” He remembered most of this from the training sessions he’d attended in March.

“Wallets if they have a lot of credit cards. Tobacco products,” Harkness added. “Basically, at this point what you’re looking for is knives and pepper spray. And what do you say to them if you find something?”

“They can either take it back to their car, or they’ll have to put it in the red bucket,” Ray answered automatically, referring to the red bucket that was underneath the table.

“Surrender it. They’ll have to surrender it into the red bucket,” Harkness corrected. “But good job, kid. I’ll get them through the metal detector, and you’ll slide their bag and the bowl down to them.”

Ray nodded. “Okay, sounds good.”

“And I’ll be right next to you if you have any questions. I’ve been doing this for quite awhile.” Ray then looked at Harkness’s name tag. Underneath his name, it said: “Team member since 2015.” This would be his fifth year.

Ray’s own name tag said: “Rookie season.” It sent a thrill through him, but made him nervous at the same time. All these people had been working together for years, and the gate ran like a well-oiled machine. Ray felt so out of place.

“You’re in good hands,” Harkness assured, and patted Ray on the arm, just as Scramm was calling them all together.

“Circle up, guys!” he yelled, and the group of workers gravitated towards his voice. “How we all doing? I hope you guys enjoyed the time off.” The Sea Dogs were having their first home game that night after a week-long road trip. “Just a normal game today. Crowd will be around 15,000. I don’t have much else for you guys. Any questions?”

No one said anything. Ray shifted from foot to foot nervously.

“Alright then. We open in ten minutes. Head to your posts.”

As the group dispersed, Ray followed Harkness over to the fourth metal detector. He took his place behind the table. The two bowls were on the table in front of him- he slid them around to distract his nervous mind. Although the gate wouldn’t open for another ten minutes, fans were already lining up by the bag checkers’ tables.

Pearson took his spot standing a few spaces, fidgeting with the ticket scanner in his hand. “Aw, fuck this. I haven’t scanned tickets since Memorial Day three years ago,” he scowled.

“And that was a nightmare,” Harkness recalled, turning around to smirk at his friend.

“Exactly,” Pearson replied. “I mean, why’d I have to do tickets?”

“Because it’s Ray’s first day, and Scramm needs me to teach him how to do bowls.”

Ray cringed at this. He felt like he was imposing. He was upsetting Pearson. He was disrupting the work dynamic that Pearson and Harkness seemed to have at the gate.

“Yeah, I get that- welcome to Gate C, by the way,” Pearson said, looking to Ray for the first time. “But like… why couldn’t he do traffic cop, and I do bowls, and you do tickets?”

“Because…” Harkness drew out the word, a teasing tone in his voice. It seemed like this was a conversation they’d had frequently. “Traffic cop is harder than bowls.”

Pearson gasped, hands going to his hips. “Take that back!”

“No way, hon,” he replied. “You know it’s true.”

Pearson spluttered. “Ray, it’s not true at all! Like, you’ll do great, but it’s not true.”

Harkness locked eyes with Ray, and mouthed, “It’s true.”

Ray laughed, nerves forgotten as he listened to the easy banter between the two of them. He told himself he’d be fine. Harkness and Pearson were there to help him out. He checked his watch- 5:29.

The line by bag check was much longer than it had been before. Most of the fans seemed to be dressed in Sea Dogs gear. Usually visiting fans didn’t make the trip up to Hadlock Park, unless they were coming from Boston or New York City.

Suddenly from behind him, he heard Scramm shout, “Let ‘em in!”

The bag checkers began to let people in, and the sounds of zippers and chatter was heard as bags were opened. Ray schooled his face into a smile as the first fan approached him. “Hello! Bag on the table and cell phone, keys, and electronics in the bowl.” The man did as he asked, setting a drawstring bag on the table and pulling his cell phone and keys out of his pocket.

“You can come on through, sir,” Harkness said, and the man stepped through the metal detector. As he did so, Ray examined his keys as he slid the bowl across the table. No knives, no pepper spray. Just a house key and car key. As the man gathered his things and headed to get his ticket scanned, Harkness said, “Enjoy the game.”

There was Ray’s first fan. He supposed he should have relished the moment, committing all the details to memory, but it was over so fast. He had done it. He repeated the same process with the fans to come.

Greet them, ask them to put metal objects in the bowl, looking over those objects for any prohibited items. Harkness would beckon them through the metal detector, they would collect their belongings, and then it was on to the next fan.

Ray really was finding his groove, sliding the bowls back and forth, smiling at the fans. Until there was a lull in the crowd and Harkness asked him, “Where’s your other bowl?”

Ray looked down. He only had one bowl. The other had vanished. “I… uh, I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He was suddenly panicstricken. He had made a mistake.

Harkness shrugged. “It’s alright, I’ll grab another one once we get these fans through.” He wasn’t angry, but the knot in Ray’s stomach didn’t untangle itself. He greeted the fans, his smile much more tight-lipped than before, and did the best he could with only one bowl. He made sure to keep a close eye on it.

The crowd dwindled, and Ray relaxed, as Harkness left to retrieve another bowl for him from the cage. “Ray, you’re doing great,” he told him, and he seemed sincere. “It’s your first day, so don’t stress too much. I mean, Pearson here has been here for four years, and he’s a disaster.”

Ray chuckled as Pearson let out an indignant “Hey!”

“How many times did you have to ask Davidson for help with your scanner?” Davidson, Ray presumed, was the blond ticket taker that was working next to Pearson.

“Fuck off,” was Pearson’s only reply, and the three of them- Ray, Harkness, and Davidson- erupted into laughter.

Once they had calmed down, Harkness asked, “Ray, what’s the time?”

He looked down at his watch. “6:35.” He was surprised- they had been doing this for over an hour.

“Game starts in thirty minutes,” Harkness said. “We’ll get another rush at like 6:45, when the bars start clearing out, but by 7:30 it’ll be pretty dead out there.”

Ray nodded. He imagined that Harkness knew the operations of Gate C like clockwork. Five years of observing and learning trends in the crowd and mannerisms of his coworkers.

“So, are you in school, Ray?” Pearson asked.

“Yeah, I just finished up my second year at the University of Maine,” he answered.

“How far away is that from here?”

“Like two and a half hours.”

Harkness looked surprised. “And you came down to all the training sessions?” Ray nodded. “Wow, you’re one dedicated rookie.”

And a broke one. Taking the bus back and forth from Orono, Maine to Portland was not cheap, and Ray had spent more money than he’d earned by coming to the several training sessions required for rookies.

He was about to say that, but a fan was approaching the metal detector. “Hello! Cellphone, keys, and electronics in the bowl please,” Ray said, and the man emptied his pockets.

The man stepped through the metal detector, and it went off. Harkness asked, “Sir, do you have anything else in your pockets?” As the man checked his front pockets, Ray’s eyes wandered, and he could see the man’s phone in his back pocket.

“Sir?” Ray spoke, and the man looked at him. “Your phone is in your back pocket.” As soon as he said it, he panicked. That made it seem like he was looking at the guy’s butt- was he going to get in trouble? He looked to Pearson, and to Harkness, and to the man, but none of them seemed fazed.

“Oh, sorry about that,” the man said, pulling his phone from his back pocket and setting it into the bowl.

Harkness smiled. “Now, sir, can you step back through the metal detector and come through again for me?” The man did as he was asked, and the second time he came through, the metal detector did not go off. “Enjoy the game,” Harkness said cheerily as the man gathered his things and went to get his ticket scanned.

It took Pearson several tries to get the ticket to scan, but finally, with an exasperated sigh, it scanned. “Enjoy the game!”

Harkness turned and opened his mouth to say something, but one withering glare from Pearson shut him up. He turned back to Ray and said, “Nice catch there, with the phone in the back pocket.”

Ray flushed, but it wasn’t visible in the shadows of Gate C. “Thank you.”

“You really are getting the hang of this,” Pearson supplied, and Harkness snorted.

“Yeah, unlike you with that scanner,” he replied.

Pearson gaped at him. “I try to be nice! I try to be nice and this is what you say to me?”

The three of them were laughing again. Pearson and Harkness had an easy camaraderie. Clearly they’d been friends and worked together for a long time, and they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, but never in a mean way.

By this point, the game was about to start, and stragglers from the bars were heading over. “Ray, national anthem,” Harkness prompted, and Ray saw that he and everyone else at the gate had removed their hats.

Ray mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ and bashfully removed his hat. As the anthem played, people continued to come through the gate, and Ray would ask them to empty their pockets. A blonde woman stepped up to the metal detector and put her keys and phone in his bowl. Ray studied her key ring as she stepped through the metal detector, and his eyes landed on a pen knife. Suddenly, Ray could feel his heart in his throat. “Uh.. excuse me, ma’am. I’m sorry but you can’t bring a knife into the ballpark. You’ll have to either take it back to your car or surrender it into the red bucket.”

“No problem,” the woman said, and removed the knife from the key ring and dropped it into the red bucket.

“Thank you, enjoy the game,” Ray said.

Harkness was beaming at him. “Your first confiscated item!”

“And you got through the speech beautifully,” Pearson added. “It’s kinda wordy, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Thanks,” Ray said, grinning. “This is stupid, but I feel really proud.”

“Hey, not stupid at all,” Pearson assured him.

Ray felt his smile soften into something more genuinely happy, and the three settled into companionable quiet as they let the straggling fans into the ballpark.

As the game progressed, Ray watched as Scramm closed down the first two lanes, sending all those workers to take their break. Then, he closed the third lane, so only Ray’s line was open. He checked his watch. It was after 8:00.

The sky was dark by then, and he couldn’t see very many people walking on the street outside. He rolled his shoulders back, allowing himself to relax. His feet hurt, and he tried to flex them in his shoes.

“Feet bugging you?” Harkness asked.

“Yeah,” Ray replied.

“That takes awhile to get used to,” Pearson said. “We’ll be getting our break soon, and it feels nice to sit down.”

“Plus, if Scramm sends you into the bowl, you’ll get to walk around a little,” Harkness added. “It’s better than standing in one spot for so long.”

“What do you do in the bowl?” Ray asked.

“You help out the ushers in there,” Harkness replied. “Parker- he’s the team leader in there- sends you over and you just work with one of them until the game’s over. You get to watch the game too.” Ray remembered Parker from earlier, and he remembered that he hadn’t liked him. He didn’t seem like a good guy.

“Not that they’re doing too well,” Pearson said, looking behind him and straining to see the TV hung up on the wall. “I’ve got shit eyesight, but I haven’t heard too much cheering.”

Ray squinted to see the score. “It’s 5-2, them.”

“Any idea what inning?” Harkness asked.

Ray couldn’t see that closely. “No.”

Scramm walked up to them and clapped Ray on the shoulder. “Break time, Ray!” he said cheerfully. A boy called Ewing came to take his place. “Be back in 25 minutes, alright?”

Ray nodded, and left the gate.

When Ray returned from break, Scramm didn’t send him into the seating bowl. Instead, he posted him by the gate, to make sure nobody snuck into the ballpark without going through security, and to say goodnight to fans as they left.

When Harkness and Pearson had come back from their break, Scramm had sent them into the bowl right away. They had taken the steps down from Gate C to the concourse two at a time, and disappeared into the seating bowl. From where he stood by the gate, Ray could see the sea of red-clad fans, and the green of the field. He really wanted to be out there, under the bright ballpark lights, instead of in the shadows of Gate C. The concourse was by this time mostly empty. The fourth security lane was the only one still open, but no one had come through it for at least half an hour. The workers over there were mostly talking amongst themselves.

His first day had been good, but now Ray just felt drained. His feet hurt, and he flexed them in his shoes as Scramm approached him, grinning broadly. “What do you think?” he asked. “How’s the first day treating you?”

Despite his exhaustion, Ray returned the smile. “It’s been good.”

“I thought you did good.” Ray grimaced. “What? You don’t agree?”

“I mean… I did lose a bowl,” he answered, looking apologetic. Harkness hadn’t seemed to care, but he worried that Scramm would.  

But Scramm just laughed and clapped a hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Don’t even worry about it! Fans wander off with stuff all the time, and we’ve got plenty.” Ray was relieved. Up close, Scramm wasn’t as intimidating as Ray had previously thought. He had kind eyes. “Seriously, you did a great job. I liked having you around.”

“Well, thank you. I really enjoy it here.”

“How old are you, Ray? Are you in school?” Scramm asked, taking a step back. As a fan walked past, he bid them goodnight and to drive safe.

“I’m 20,” Ray answered. “I just finished up my second year at the University of Maine.”

“Good on you, congrats,” he beamed. “Your parents must be real proud.”

Ray wondered how old Scramm was. Definitely older than Ray. He looked like he could be nearly 30. Then, a man approached, waving to Scramm. It was the same man in the white polo that Ray had seen earlier, with the tan face and strong arms. He remembered Scramm had called him Parker. “Hey, Collie,” Scramm said. “Be right back, Ray.”

Ray nodded, as the two men left the gate and stepped off the sidewalk into the street. The street right outside Gate C was always blocked off on game days. He watched as the two lit up cigarettes, standing close together to ward off the chilly breeze and talking amongst themselves.

He wondered what it would be like to work with Parker in the seating bowl. Harkness and Pearson seemed to like him, but Parker hadn’t been nice to him earlier. Maybe he just didn’t like rookies. By this time it was the eighth inning, and some fans had started to leave. The Sea Dogs were behind, and a comeback win did not seem likely.

“Goodnight! Thank you for coming!” Ray called as they left.

Soon Scramm and Parker returned from their smoke break, and Scramm started to shut down the final security lane. Parker headed back into the seating bowl. The workers from the security lane divided up and stood on either side of the gate, preparing to bid the fans goodnight as the ballpark emptied.

One of the workers who came to stand by Ray was Davidson, the ticket taker from earlier who had helped Pearson. “Hey, you’re Ray.”

“And you’re Davidson,” he answered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Davidson waved to a family as they left the ballpark. “Have a good night!” He focused his attention back to Ray. “How are you liking the ballpark?”

“I really like it,” he answered. “How long have you been here?”

“It’s my second year. Gate C is a good place to work. I’ve been all over the ballpark and it’s my favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Davidson affirmed. “Last year I spent the month of April traveling all over the ballpark with the rest of the rookies. I put in a request to become permanent staff at Gate C after my third series here.”

“Thanks for coming!” Ray waved to a young group of friends. They looked about his age.

“Scramm’s a good team leader. Friendly, really fair. A lot of the other places I went to, you had to deal with all these workplace politics. A lot of drama.”

Ray nodded in understanding as Davidson spoke. “I was thinking of working a couple homestands and then applying to be permanent at wherever I liked best.”

“I see the logic there,” Davidson said. “But make sure you don’t wait too long. It’s no fun to be flex in July.” The flex staff were workers that didn’t have a permanent position at the ballpark. After every series- which usually lasted three games- they were moved to a different part of the ballpark.

“I appreciate the advice,” Ray said. And he genuinely meant it- everyone he had met at the stadium so far had been so friendly. Just then, he could see people beginning to exit the seating bowl in earnest. That could only mean that the game was over.

“Thank you for coming!” “Have a good night!”

“Drive safely!”

The fans streamed past them, waving and smiling and thanking them. The thanks and the appreciation he felt brought a bigger smile to Ray’s face. The flow of fans thinned out, and Ray could see Pearson and Harkness leaving the seating bowl and making their way over to Scramm. He wrote something on his clipboard, and then they were on their way, heading back to the locker room to clock out.

Ray stayed by the gate, with Davidson by his side, until the crowd dwindled to nothing. Scramm approached the two of them, his clipboard in hand. “Great work tonight, you guys,” he said, grinning as he wrote a mark next to each of their names on his list. “See you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Night, Scramm,” Davidson said, and he and Ray left the gate. “Damn, I can’t wait to sit down.”

Ray laughed as they threaded their way through the crowds of fans still remaining on the concourse and walked to the employee door. They took the steps down to the locker room. “Pearson told me it takes awhile to get used to it.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Davidson said. The two clocked out and gathered their things from their lockers. “Guys like him and Harkness have been doing this for five years- five years. I go home every night and elevate my feet, but it still hurts the next day. I don’t know how they do it.”

Ray couldn’t imagine it. He had worked one day, and his feet were killing him. He and Davidson left the ballpark together, but went separate ways towards their own cars.

Ray went home that night, happy and tired. A good kind of tired.

[howtohero]

Piloting a Mecha

If you can swing it, piloting a mecha is one of the most efficient ways of fighting crime. After all, if you’re a regularly sized human only about 30% of crimes can be squished with your foot, which means that putting your foot down is not a very big deterrent against crime. If you’re a giant sized person then the number of crimes you could step on grows exponentially higher but your feet can easily be injured by such actions meaning that once again, you don’t have that natural deterrent. But when you’re in a big metal robot... wow, you could step on almost any crime. Not to mention all the cool weapons and entertainment systems you can load that sucker up with. If you’re going to fight crime, get yourself a mecha.

Upon getting a mecha the first thing you need to do is give your giant robot a cool name. When it comes to naming your robot there a few schools of thought. The first one holds that you should throw a bunch of powerful sounding adjectives in front of a couple of cool adjectives. Something like: Mighty Omega Ultra Galaxy Piercer or Aquatic Bulbous Gentlemanly Canyon Splinter. Another school of thought maintains that every robot name should end in -tron, hearkening back to your robot’s animatronic nature. So think of something like Electrontron or Synchrocyclotrontron. (On a related note, if you ever need a sick burn while fighting a robot adversary try calling them Doltron. This also works if you need a sick burn while fighting someone named Ron.}) Whatever you decide to name your robot though, it should be cool as heck. Otherwise really what are you even doing with your life.

Piloting a mecha is a lot like wearing armor. You’re encased in a powerful metal shell, you’ve got lots of retractable guns and gizmos, and you look cool as heck. However there are enough differences between the two methods that different superheroes feel that one is better for them than the other. If you’re got an armor suit you can fit into most normal sized rooms and interact with other heroes on a more personal scale. When you’re in a giant robot, you don’t have to be physically strong enough to carry the armor on you. Most robot pilots actually just go to work in their pajamas. If the robot is big enough you can even just live inside of it full time. You can’t do that with armor. It would start to smell. Some heroes even choose to wear both. They have their own suit of armor which they wear while piloting a twenty story robot into battle. This allows them to successfully combat crimes on any scale. Unfortunately, both armor wearers and mech pilots are susceptible to the dangers of magnets.

Other superheroes don’t wear any costume at all whilst hanging out in their robots. They actually don’t need to. Giant robot pilots are one of the only subsets of superheroes that don’t really need any sort of secret identity at all. It’s kind of weird actually. Supervillains just don’t seem to care about the person inside the robot. Even if the identity of the pilot is public knowledge, robot operators, historically speaking, have never had to worry about the safety or protection of their loved ones. Supervillains simply focus on the giant multicolored robot that shoots fireworks whenever it walks. Go figure. Supervillains will focus all of their energy into developing ways to combat the robot and forget about the fragile fleshy human inside that they could manipulate through threats to their loved ones. <Hey, that gives me an idea...> What you’re still here. (He’ll be here as long as we continue to pay him.) We pay him???? 

Because of this fixation on the robots though, it would be a good idea to actually disguise your robot when it’s not in use. Supervillains will undoubtably try to track down the giant robot during downtime and try to either destroy it, sabotage it, or steal it. Giant robots are, as I’m sure you can imagine (you guys have pretty good imaginations) difficult to conceal. They’re very large. Larger than most garages. Larger than most buildings of any kind. Larger than all (bar one) pockets. Which means that, if the robot is not disguised, the bad guys will find it. So you need to invent a secret identity for your giant mech suit. If the villains can’t recognize your giant robot as the giant robot that frequently foils their plans and steps on their evil machines they’re very likely to leave it alone. No sense risking failure and making yet another giant robot enemy. Try putting a giant wig and maybe a fake mustache (of any size) on your robot. 80% of the time that should do the trick. However, if your super robot is very distinct (congrats on the unique design by the way. You really screwed yourself over on that one.) then you’ll need to take more precautions. You can try pretending that your super robot has an almost identical twin, but then you’ll have to do a very good job conjuring up an entire fake civilian identity for your robot. Make him an accountant, an ice cream man, a 16th century explorer. The skies the limit. Disguise the limit. If your robot’s cover identity is convincing enough the bad guy also won’t both with them, even though it looks exactly the same. This goes doubly so if you make them a 16th century explorer because then messing with them might mean fracturing the timeline. (That’s right, if any 16th century explorers are reading this, come to the future, nobody will bother you here!) Of course, if you’ve gotten yourself a transforming mecha then none of this matters. Your robuddy (not to be confused with Robud, the basketball playing robot dog) need only to shift gears and convert into their alternative mode when they’re not fighting crime. 

Another thing you need to be cognizant of is that piloting a giant robot isn’t as easy as it sounds! There are actually a lot of laws you need to follow. While an exhaustive record of all of the robot piloting laws is a bit beyond the scope of this guide we have put together a quick cheat sheet on safely and lawfully operating your giant robot:

Giant Robot Drivers Ed:

Always signal before changing lanes: If you don’t you might accidentally get some poor sap’s station wagon stuck between your robot toes. (Do a lot of robots have individual toes? Interesting.) Or, if there’s another giant robot in the next lane you might enter into an accidental combination sequence. (If this occurs see here.) 

If you are unhappy with the color the traffic light is showing take matters into your own hands: We were just as surprised as you are but this is really what the law recommends. Just project your own bright colors and do what you want. You are a giant robot.

It is illegal to operate your giant robot with a suspended or expired license: This is just for everyone’s safety. We can’t have a bunch of unlicensed robots jogging around the town. But don’t worry, we’ve come up with a couple of workarounds. The very precise wording of this law actually opens up a pretty large loophole. Like, large enough to walk an unlicensed giant robot through. The law specifies “suspended or expired” licenses, so if you’ve got one of these just chuck it in the river. Law don’t say nothing about giant robotting with no license. Alternatively, don’t build windows into the cockpit of your robot. If you can’t roll down the window, cops can’t give you a ticket. Life hack.

Children operating a giant robot must wear a seatbelt: Hard to argue with that one tbh. 

It is illegal to use a mobile phone of any kind (cell, satellite, shoe, etc.) whilst operating a giant robot: Why would you even need too! Just use the robot’s speaker system. These things are big enough that they can be heard almost anywhere in your city, so as long as the person you want to talk to is nearby they should get the message.

If four giant robots arrive at an intersection at the same time the giant robot furthest to the right should go first and then so on and so forth (what?): In order to determine which of you guys is furthest to the right try engaging in a four way game of giant robot rock paper scissors (wait). In order to determine who gets precedence in this game of rock paper scissors, find an impartial fifth party to think of a random number from 1-4 and then each of you should guess. Whoever gets the closest (wait, meaning not exactly right?) to the person’s number then pits their rock, paper, or scissor hand against that of the giant robot to their right. Whoever wins that battle will then face the next person and so on and so forth. Should two of you guess the closest to the correct answer you should have a quick all out brawl in the middle of the intersection and whomever shall survive that is the winner of the number guessing game (what in the world). Hey, I don’t make the rules!