#like its all run through ONE company that you have to pay to test through AND pay to get a CAS evaluation which means a THIRD PARTY is crea

[machotwink]

i applied to law school. someone take me out back and shoot me already

[letternotekisses]

ok but saucy thoughts aside im talkin bout talon assistant reader genuinely being cute and silly with her agents:

Moira more often than not lets you eat your lunch in her lab provided that none of it comes in contact with her projects. She was hyper focused - her perfectly manicured nails holding still a tawny brown ball of fur, adorned with a baby pink button nose that sniffled the air hesitantly. You’d practically squealed when she raised a needle to the poor thing, and she quirked a brow when you hurried over to clutch the animal to your chest.

Moira appeared unimpressed with you. Her angular chin upturned as she peered down at you, baby talking the rabbit she had planned to test on. You looked up at her with eyes big and watery enough to rival the little creatures, and she sighed dramatically. The geneticist had a feeling that wrangling the critter out of your arms wouldn’t be so easy now that you’d seen what plans she had for it.

So that is how Lucky came to be. Despite Moira’s cold disposition, she enjoyed your company, and would like you to continue body doubling with her whilst she worked. The only way not to send you fleeing from her lab in tears, clutching the rabbit to your chest, was to keep it around. It has its own little space laden with toys and plush surfaces - a rather spoiled little animal.

Moira allowed the rabbit to stay, under the one condition that she name it. She’ll never tell you why, but she named the little guy Lucky because not only was he ‘lucky’ to avoid her experiments that day - he also gives you more excuses to come into her lab - and she feels ever so lucky for it.

Sombra finds unique methods to get your attention. She lurks around the base almost as well as Gabe does, but she’s not necessarily doing it to be broody. She can get greedy with your attention, so she finds ways to lure you off base so that she can have you all to herself for a little bit.

Sombra often hacks into Akande’s email to send you on faux errand runs, just for little things like coffee where she can swoop in for some quality time. And don’t worry, she pays for the dates and ensures you’re back on base by the time your break is finished.

Sombra also leaves little gifts where she thinks you might find them. Although, they’re never really that little. You’re always taken aback by new, expensive top-range electronics laden in purple ribbon on your desk. You know who leaves them, because they’re backed up with the best firewalls around and the display has a tiny purple skull on it.

Sometimes she just straight deposits thousands into your account. As a treat. Sombra only rolls her eyes when you try to decline the amount, flustered and telling her that it’s ’way too much’ but she honestly couldn’t care less. She’s perfectly able to spoil you and that’s exactly what she’ll do.

Reaper likes to play off that he doesn’t enjoy your company (he’s coping) but he’s also always skulking wherever you’ve been. You’re a bit of a yapper, especially when it’s early mornings in the Talon communal area, so he likes to sit and listen to you. If you stagger whilst talking because you think he isn’t listening, he’ll give you a stare so hard that you swear you can feel it through his mask. So you keep talking and his shoulders sag with contentment once more. (He now knows every single type of coffee you like, and you should expect a mysterious package of literally all of them in the kitchen next week.)

He’s a grump, and sulked for an entire week when you once changed your perfume. Reaper even went to lengths to shadow-step into your room to throw the new one out and replace it with a fresh bottle of your old one. It wasn’t cheap, but as long as you keep using it, he’s happy to buy them for you.

He’s also happy to scare off any of the overconfident Talon grunts who think you’re easy pickings. In fact, I’d say he takes great pleasure in showing those idiots who the pretty secretary belongs to. (He’s been doing this behind your back because he’s too edgy and emo to approach you directly and would rather trail you in the corridors like some sort of creep, but he means well.)

Reaper gets a little jealous over your attention from time to time, but with help from his unorthodox teammates (and you) he learns to share.

Amelie is slower to approach, but she’s all the more meaningful when she does. She may not be able to feel, but she more than just tolerates your company. She finds herself inviting you over for bottles of wine more often, showing you her manor and her dear guard hounds who’ve come to be much too gentle under your affections. Yet, she can’t find it in herself to blame you.

You show her simplicity in a blank and cold world - and soon enough her manor grows less full of cobwebs and vines, instead beaming with sunlight and the tiny succulents you’d gifted her with. You won’t replace Gerard, but Amelie still lets you dust off the weathered picture frames as if you’d been married together in this old house for years.

You help manage her hair, winding long and silky strands between your fingers, brushing against the elegant slope of her back. She welcomes your touch, despite the warm and cold contrast of your skin on hers.

Amelie craves the casual and domestic intimacy you provide her. She introduces you to self defence and gun wielding so you can take care of yourself without her, and you introduce her to reality tv and an absurd collection of coffee mugs. She would not take it any other way.

Sigma’s musings start small when he hears you humming a certain tune one day. It’s catchy, likely a pop song you’d heard on the radio whilst on your way to work, or maybe it was a song you’d been blasting in your bedroom the night before? He’d found himself picking up on it, unable to shake it until he’s humming it himself.

Eventually when you sit down with him for tea, he questions you about it, yet when you tell him the name of the song and he listens to it, he doesn’t necessarily feel the same pull.

The next week, when you’re passing by his lab in a hurry, heels clacking against the glossy wooden floor and papers flying in a trail behind you, he catches you humming another song. Another tune. He smiles softly to himself, picking up the documents you’d left behind.

Sigma realises then that the song wasn’t necessarily catchy enough to stick with him. He’d only picked them up because they reminded him of you.

Mauga is always excited to have you around. Sometimes he can be a bit much, but with two hearts he’s bound to have twice your energy. So that’s why he absolutely insists that you sit on his back whilst he does pushups. No matter what you weigh he’s not gonna break a sweat, so you might as-well relax on his back while he works out, instead of wasting precious quality time you could have together.

He’d suggested that you sit on other things too, but you’d smacked his bicep hard enough that the muscle rippled and he got the message to behave. You were still sore from the last time he said that.

Mauga also is a big cuddler, meaning, if you’re doing something he doesn’t deem as important, you’re being quite literally swept off your feet and dumped onto a soft surface like a wet kitten. Where he then hauls you onto his chest and squishes your face into his bicep, unfortunately for you, two hearts means he runs WARM. And you’re out like a light in less than 10. Smug bastard.

Big dude loves to show you off, too. Takes you back to some of his old haunts (pays for all of your drinks) and puts a song he knows you like on the jukebox. Sure, the night ends in a bar fight, a back-alley fuck and the worst take out you’ve had in your life, but would you have it any other way? Absolutely-fuckin-not.

And finally, the big boss of them all, Akande. Who’s satisfied with the knowledge that each of his subordinates treat you well and good, but knows he holds the ultimate claim. He holds the golden chain of your leash.

He treats you softly, like a well pampered pet all trussed up in the finest materials around. But it’s not always money with him. Sure, Akande has it, and he’s gonna flaunt it, maybe stuff a few bills in your panties when you least expect it but he also knows you’re not just a pretty face. Both he and his top agents have become adjusted to you in their lives, morale is high, people have improved.

You’re here to stay, and it’s only locked into place when he awakes one morning, your legs are tangled underneath satin sheets, and you’re drooling on his bare chest. He laughs - a deep rumble that shakes his chest and has you groaning at him to stop moving in a sweet, sleep addled mumble. You even give him a little kick under the covers.

Akande makes sure you’ll never want nor need again, and he’s sure that his team feel the same way about this odd, sweet assistant that stumbled into their lives.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Can you do a yandere!wheatley oneshot where the reader escapes but gets caught by him?

Attachment

Summary: His unpredictable fixation towards you is perhaps all that's left keeping this facility intact. Though "intact" might be a bit of a overstatement.

Warnings: yandere character; imprisonment; vague description of death;

  Wheatley likes you.

  Though, that's a sentiment he's not sure he should be feeling. Or, technically speaking, if he can even "feel" it. The ones responsible for his existence might have programmed a personality and a certain ability to recognize and simulate what a human can feel, but that doesn't make it any less of a fabrication. Still, he guesses it's real enough for him. If a turret can scream in pain when it meets its sudden demise, why wouldn't he be able to call you his friend?

  How else would he describe it? At first you were just a human, a surviving test subject, a way out of this place. The only way out of this place. He needed you for practical reasons, but you... You needed him more as a sort of an anchor.

  He endeared himself to you faster than he thought he would. Humans require some sort of connection, he's aware, and you have been locked inside this abandoned facility with barely any notable traces of humanity left. It's tragic, really. Who else would you be leaning on, if not the only sentient thing who didn’t seem to want you dead in this place?

  That’s when he realised it. He realised that you needed him. And found himself feeling quite proud of that! Would you believe it? Someone actually found him useful! Who needed his guidance, who wanted his company and who actually cared. Someone cared about him.

  But he's above all that now, right? Right.

  He's certain of it, probably just as much as he was certain he convinced you (and himself) that he doesn't need you. He got everything he could ever want now! Long gone are the days of pathetic little Wheatley, who took orders from higher-ups and was dependent on their mercy to even just move around the facility. Now he's the higher power, now he's the one in control!

  So why would he care?

  He doesn't! He doesn't. He doesn't care, he doesn't need you. You're just a human, an insignificant test subject. Who cares! He's just keeping you for... Practical, scientific purposes, of course. There's tests to run, and he requires test subjects to run them, after all. That's all there is to it.

  But his reaction to your abrupt disappearance spoke of a different story.

  During a moment he neglected to pay attention, in a rare instance that his gaze failed to be trailed onto you, you managed to get away. Though you finally decided to take advantage of a distraction, to slip through the faults of his supervision, you weren’t expecting your escape attempt to go that smoothly.

  Finding a fault in his "security" wasn't the hard part. Not really. Wheatley's intelligence has... Very noticeable limits. The hard part was not meeting your sudden and very painful death shortly after. The structural integrity of this place is about as stable as Wheatley himself, and it's honestly quite impressive how either are still standing.

  It actually didn't take him long to locate you, but he nearly destroyed whatever parts of the Enrichment Center are still functional, and he also nearly took you to your death while he was at it.

  Wheatley's anger is something that you, on most days, try to avoid. Despite still having the very fresh memory of him as your small, harmless and slightly idiotic spherical friend; you would be lying through your teeth if you said he doesn’t scare you in his current position. He's still an idiot, sure, but that doesn't make him any less of a terrifying idiot.

  "Sooo... Are you done with your little temper tantrum?" His voice has become somewhat of a background noise as your time trapped in here passes.

  You’d think at this point you would rather tear your ears out than hear him talk for even just a second longer; and at some point in the beginning of all of this you did find that idea enticing, but nowadays you can barely find it in yourself to care. Besides, at least it’s a sign you’re still alive, you suppose. The rare few times he does leave you completely rotting alone in a test chamber for long stretches of time make you question that fact.

  As usual, you don’t give him an answer.

  "Oh, c'mon, we both know that you can't keep this going forever." You wonder how he hasn’t gotten tired of this yet. Or if he ever will. He does like to keep mentioning how easily he could get rid of you, but he never follows through with his words.

  "Ok, maybe you can. I wouldn't put that stupid stubbornness beyond you, actually..." He’s technically not even in the test chamber with you, but you can feel his gaze searing into you through that large screen, even despite the cracked glass (courtesy of a particularly angry moment from you). "But my point still stands, mate. You're gonna grow desperate. And guess who's the only one left you can turn to?"

  You know he likes you.

  Maybe that’s the worst part. There’s no one else waiting for you outside these walls. And from what you vaguely remember of what GLaDOS told you before, is there even anyone still alive at all outside these walls? Had she told you the truth or have you just now grown exhausted and complacent enough to finally believe her?

  "Me. It's me- Just in case you couldn't guess. Wouldn't surprise me, humans tend to be a bit slow, afterall-" Your lack of response never really seemed to discourage him. If nothing else, he tends to get a bit lost in his monologues when you offer no input of your own.

  "I'm sorry." Your voice came out a bit hoarse, you barely remember when was the last time you actually spoke out loud instead of just screaming or giving him the silent treatment.

   "Of course you are-" He was so caught up in his speech that it took him a second to process what you said. "Uh, Wait- You are? And-" You watch his eye squint in disbelief. “You’re talking to me?” But he pretends to recover quickly.

  "I mean, of course! Oh, of course you’re sorry, why wouldn’t you be?” You would have rolled your eyes at the immediate switch up, had you any energy left. “And, as you know, normally I wouldn’t humour you, but well…“ He trails off.

  “Considering we’re having a civilised conversation for once, I might just let it slide!” He was doing a terrible job of pretending to be indifferent to the situation at hand, it’s been a while since you heard him sound this chipper. “I can be gracious, after all. But, well, you’re gonna need to say it again.” You can tell he had gotten really close to the camera, with how the screen only had visibility of his bright blue light “iris”.

  “No reason! No particular reason, it’s just-” You didn’t let him continue.

  “I’m sorry, Wheatley.” If you had to take a guess, he just missed hearing your voice. 

  There was a silence that lasted for a precious short while, a rare moment where he simply stared at you without saying anything. Observing. Absorbing.

  “Good to know you can still do that. Talk, I mean. Had started to think you lost your ability to speak. That can happen sometimes, you know?” For a moment, you could swear he sounded just like you remember him. Trying his best to sound helpful and knowledgeable. Well, you suppose he never lost that habit, just with way more of an ego now.

  “You know what? I just had the best idea.” 

  “Truly an ingenious plan. From now on, you’re going to stay with me. Right here, in my lair.” He put an unnecessary amount of dramatic flair on the last word. “I know, I know, what an honour.” You didn’t particularly want to be in the central AI chamber again, nor did you want to be physically near him, but… Maybe this could work out in your favor. 

  “That was the problem, right? Humans need company, of course. Failiable creatures with their impractical needs.” He sounded a bit too unpreoccupied for someone who was currently messing with the structure of this place, opening up a path for you to follow along. You wished this place would just collapse already. But you have a feeling he wouldn’t let you go even if it did.

   “And that way you won’t need to be going anywhere ever again.”

[olderthannetfic]

I went scrolling through anti ao3 tags and blogs because I was bored and not doing the shit I need to do and you know for a group of people who every year twice a year throw such hissy fits you’d think they’d at least have a point, but all their arguments make no sense(except their one main one that they almost never use?--why??) Like ok, there is one argument for why people shouldn’t give money to ao3, and that is the argument that ao3 is bad website because it has bad policies and refuses to moderate. I disagree, but ultimately if someone thinks that ao3 should update the TOS and moderate what fan fiction they allow, it makes sense that that person would be against the site making money because… well they are against the sites founding principles, I’m not shocked they don’t want it to succeed.

But the rest of the arguments!? Man they make no sense at all

“They are scamming you there is no way they need that much money”, ”its immoral to give money to ao3 because they already have so much!”, “Even if ao3 was perfect, its ridicuslous to give 100K to a fan fiction site!” — like… maybe I’m the asshole here, but ao3 made about 250,000 this spring, so they make about 500,000 a year… that’s just not that much money! That could what, pay for 10-30 employees at best! And that’s not counting the actual cost of all the shit they currently spend their money on! I get that ao3 is run by unpaid volunteers so antis think that 500K is a lot, but that’s not true! That’s not a lot of money at all! It might be a lot of money for an individual but for a company that’s practically pennies. Wikipedia, which granted is a lot bigger than ao3, with 57,218,269 pages to ao3s 6 million works, makes 155 million to ao3 500,000. According to antis ao3 has over a million in reserve and well according to wikipedia they have net assets of US$240 million. One is clearly more than the other!

I saw someone say that servers should be 1K, which is so stupid and out of touch with eveything I almost died laughing. I had a project using firebase this semester, I created 2 projects within firebase one for my school project and one to dick around and figure out. I accidentally set my test database to a “pay as you go” version instead of a free version. And almost had to pay a thousand dollars for the month! I wasn’t even using that database it was just sitting there but I check my google billing to make sure I wasn’t paying anything and it turns out I was! 150 dollars actually so that sucks! (My fault though)

Also also I keep seeing that its ridiculous and evil to pay the much for a site that “doesn’t improve” but the “doesn’t improve” is referring to A) no changes in TOS, which I don’t want to happen any way so good. B) the fact that it’s still in beta, which I don’t give a fuck about and I don’t understand why I should care. I think antis are dont like that the layout hasn’t changed but I don’t want to the layout to change. Also things come out of beta because they are a commercial product to be sold(this is very simplified), which is why some things come out of beta to waaaay to early and are glitchy as all hell! Ao3 isn’t being sold to me its slowly being built and archiving things that would probably be lost, and it will probably technically be in beta forever, but it doesn't effect me and I don't care. Would it be better if it came out of beta only to continously updated like a lot other shit does. I don't really play video games but I know ppl that do so I know at least once a game came out that didn't really work and people needed to later update shit for it to function and I'd argue thats worse than a functional website just being in beta forever. C) The claim that it hasn’t changed at all, which is just not true! They added the exclude section and eventually added the blocking shit. The blocking took too long to come out, so I guess in this sea of dumb criticism theres at least 1 piece of critism that makes sense. And finally again I don’t want it to change! Every other week we are all bitching that Tumblr or YouTube or Instagram or any other app are needlessly changing the layout or adding shit we don’t want in order to keep up with latest trends, make it more marketable or try and attracted new users. Ao3 is great because its never going to change. Ao3 and Craigslist will always kinda look like ass and I’m ok with that. If it aint broke ¯_(ツ)_/¯

I could keep going but there is no point. I just think they are all so stupid.

--

The thing about beta is the funniest because AO3, like oldschool shit from the 90s, has actual criteria for coming out of beta.

It's not "we've been going for 10 years" or "we want to sell the product": it's "we've checked off all the things on this checklist".

And they still haven't done them all, so it's still in beta.

[nogu-d-reamers]

CAN YOU PROMISE...

THAT WE WILL BE TOGETHER?...

(Or... And angel and Dogday a bit of Lore).

ABOUT "THE PLAYER"...

Patrick Perry Layer or "the player" was an employee of the factory that was in charge of the internal financial management of the company who worked at playTime Co. between the 80's and 90's.

Due to his work, he had to pay attention to the game station and playcare initiatives; Which he hated because he wasn't the biggest supporter of the idea of children in an industrial factory, so he was actively hostile towards them.

He had an "if it's none of my business, I don't care" mentality; Therefore, even though he had to be aware of the existence of experiments in the factory, the problem with the employees due to their treatment and that there were even spies trying to leak information about it to the public; He couldn't have cared less, it was beside the point.

Regarding whether he had family or someone close... due to the great time of conflicts that he lived through, he only had himself his entire life; which further substantiated that thought of not being interested in his surroundings if not for his work.

He mainly went to playcare when they insisted that he go to playcare at the suggestion of one of his subordinates upon learning that he was alone in adopting one of the orphans.He went reluctantly and being extremely uncomfortable with the excessive good treatment they gave him in the playcare.

Patrick and Libby...

as mentioned earlier; He met Lilibeth Faith one day when she was hiding, a girl who was particularly shy and defensive at first but who at the same time did not allow herself to be intimidated by the hostility of Patrick himself.

When he gave up on seeming hostile to her and it was approaching bedtime, he caught her attention with some of Barry's books and asking her if she liked the cart with eyes too.

Libby, not knowing what the "kind gentleman" was called (from her point of view), began to ask about "Mr. Angel." The confused caregivers did not know what or who he was; until the next visit she came running up to him shouting «MR. ANGEL!!! YOU'RE BACK! » leaving everyone stunned to see that he was referring to him, including Patrick himself.

Patrick asked the minor why she referred to him in such a curious way, which made all the sense in the world to her; I explain: «Brother once said that angels are kind and honest with those who need it, you seemed like both to me and you even wanted to play with me; why wouldn't you be?». Patrick didn't know what to respond and preferred to introduce himself formally so she wouldn't call him that again, but Libby still continued calling him "Mr. Angel."

when in starts 1992 and Lilibeth began to be a subject of experimentation or "testing" and they found a way to make her susceptible to experimentation through the "carmine serum" (it will have its own explanation later); I wasn't going to question much and I was just going to visit her since due to a very hectic Christmas season I hadn't had the time to see Libby with a gift... but I just saw her again and saw that she was so emaciated and that the only answer I had was Libby gave her «the white manss said I had something wrong, and they are trying to fix me, but hurts... Hurts too much...» he could no longer maintain his apathy and began to investigate more about what was happening to the girl.

When she found out WHAT Sawyer was doing to her, to the other orphans and that she found out in more detail about the things that he allowed due to her apathy, she put pressure and haste to protect Libby and speed up the procedures to get her out of playcare; then with the information kept and knowing of various irregularities at playtime Co. to at least mitigate some of the damage he allowed them to cause...however...

The day of the tragedy...

July 21, 1992, what was supposed to be the day Patrick took little Lilibeth Faith away from playcare, Dr. Sawyer called Layer to his office; while Libby had to wait for him; The girl was absolutely nervous, he didn't want him to leave her alone although he promised that it would only be for a moment and then they would be together.

Patrick and Harley had an dispute when he called him into the office, and at one point Harley critically said, «I'm sorry, but you didn't leave me any other choice.» Layer did not understand those words until minutes later when an employee in the maintenance area commented that a girl had suffered a serious accident in the gas production area. that girl was Libby.

At no time was Patrick allowed near the medical bay, and a doctor on Sawyer's team told him that unfortunately there was nothing to do; He allowed him to see the recently deceased body of her minor to identify her and that a priori through the adoption process she would let him take the minor's ashes.

Patrick, after seeing her "dead body" and being given a container with part of the Libby's ashes (with the parts that were not used for dogday), never set foot in the playcare again.

He blamed himself for the incident for a long time and over the years he stopped going to the company's special events because they were the only days in which the playcare children went out to the rest of the factory other than the games station, which ironically also included the event of August 8, 1995.

Loses this sunshine again...

some point in 2005; Patrick was in the eye of several investigators for what happened with playtime co (as well as his former employees); However, he had preferred to remain anonymous, out of the eye of suspicion and enduring as best he could the feeling of guilt for the disappearance of so many people (so much so that he bought a piece of land adjacent to the factory's wooded land just to know when he would feel ready to return). ; until one day the tape arrived with the "find the flower" letter, he guessed, he knew that he should not run away from playtime co anymore and he got ready to go to that place again…

If Patrick's mind was in chaos; when he met Dogday and the nickname he used to refer to him, of all the ones he could use, was precisely "Angel"; The same way and tone of speech that Libby used to refer to him was so shocking that he could only react again when the giant dog in the end could only say "JUST GO! RUN!" seconds before being attacked and possessed by the minis. If in itself the terrible coincidence of terms that Dogday used left Patrick in shock; when in the council building he finds the conversion papers for several experiments, including how his little Libby was used to be experiment 1202 - also known as Dogday; You can imagine the rage and helplessness of not only not having been able to get her out of playtime before her, but he has seen her die twice

after defeating the prototype; Before leaving she had gone to the playhouse one more time just to be able to lay watch over Dogday's body; finding himself surprised that he was still alive, even though he was devoured; but alive. He couldn't help but hug him and cry, thanking him for being alive and forgiving him.

The most difficult thing of all was how to accommodate Dogday with the grabpack; because although the canine was in half and was terrifyingly light for his size, the half-dog was still larger than his body. and that although he could help him, the slightest mistake would cause him to suffer more damage; It was a difficult process to get him out of Playtime Co.

side note: a constant visual device is that Dogday does not see player as a human, but insteants he sa him as a dummy or "Dogday's POV"; It has an explanation. Since as a human DD' suffered abuse before and after arriving at playcare, the process of your conversion to a bigger body, the 10 years she was in the factory and due to several attacks from the specialists sent by Leith Pierre, she unconsciously sees the adults as a threat, something that can and will do harm. Therefore, as a method of defense and not attacking them directly because of that internalized panic; Dogday has lost the ability to recognize adult faces and see them instead as something more "safe" and has forgotten several adult faces. which is why them doesn't know that "poppy's angel" and "mr angel" are the same person.

A UNEXPECTED HOPE... OR A THREAT WITH THE DEVIL?...

Since Patrick has Dogday with him, because of the paternal love he had for him and the level of guilt he has for leaving him behind so many times when he needed him most, he tries to compensate him by showering him with the attention and care he deserves; something a little difficult because due to the scientists and his years of dogday confinement he hardly allows himself to indulge in feeling guilty for being alive (something that Angel has been working on so that that feeling is mitigated).

Patrick knows he has entered dangerous territory; not only because now the eyes of the researchers will be on him, but even though he tries to cure dogday (even being able to recover the lower part of the experiment), however; The amount of damage he has is absurd and the few medical examinations he performs indicate that he will not survive for long.

However, on one occasion where again a group of investigators contact him before he can send them to hell, they bring him a tempting proposal: "We have in custody former workers who were part of Sawyer's team and we know that you guard an experiment; and we need witnesses and information that only someone of your rank can tell, be the witness we need and in exchange we will give you the help the experiment needs."... Layer accepts with three conditions =

#1. do whatever you have to do to save dogday; except using him as an experimental subject behind his back #2. If you need dogday to testify, unless you promise absolute anonymity it will be denied and #3. fulfill Dogday's whim and remove that CENSORSHIP Sawyer voice box.

Now... this threat... Was it a good idea… or something else that will make Layer regret it?

[bluemoonjayy]

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗖𝗢𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗙 𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦

[𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖔 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗]

𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘠: ʏ/ɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʏᴠᴇ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀɴɪᴠᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴋɪᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴏᴜꜱᴇʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

[PART 1] [PART 2]

PLAYLIST:

On dat bxtch by lumi athena

Swimming pools by Kendrick Lamar or lloyd version

The party and the after party (Sango remix) by the weeknd

All mine by plaza

Nightcrawler by Travis scott

On the floor by removeface

Swim by chase atlantic

Into it by chase atlantic

[I RECOMMEND THE SLOWED VERSION]

BEFORE READING

- I wanted to say that english is not my first language so if I make some mistakes tell me lol

- this is not really my first story but im trying to write something different and also hope you like it :3

IM GONNA MAKE A CHRIS ONE IF Y'ALL WILL LIKE THIS

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.

-Are you ready?- my friend Yve asks me after knocking at the door of my room

-yeah, almost done!- I reply -i just need to wear my pants!- I wear them as quickly as possible and open the entrance

-finally!- she rools her eyes quite annoyed by the fact that I made her wait a bit too much -We had to be at the carnival almost 15 minutes ago…-

-sorry, sorry, sorryyyy!- I take my bag and her hand -we’re gonna absolutely run there- and we do as I said, sprinting through the people that are in the streets trying not to hit them

Well…

it didn't work…

-oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!- i apologize as I head myself to my friend who is far from me

-damn, it took you hours to arrive-

-its already much if I'm still alive- I take deep breaths because of the long run I had

After some seconds I recompose myself and look up seeing the amazing carousels that I was waiting to go on since the end of the school

My favorites are the musik express and the tagada

They're the best!

My friend actually finds them boring but still goes with me for unknown reasons, maybe just to keep me company

-come on!- Yve runs leaving me alone

-oh, you bitch!- I laugh and follow her

We first go near the tagada

I notice two boys on it

They both look so alike but one has quite long hair and a hat, they're probably twins

-Yve? Why are they the only ones on it?- I turn my head to watch her

-they’re the owner's kids- she replies -they do this to test the carousel to see if it has some problems, you know-

I return my eyes back on the two of them

-Nick! Make this thing start!- the one with the hat screams at another person that looked like them in the control box

-okay, Chris!- he presses some buttons and the machine moves

The boys are still standing at the center of it

-Matt, are you ready?- Chris screams

-Yes, i am!- he smiles a little

The carousel starts to move and the brothers do the most insane things to not fall down of it

One of them does a backflip

-wow!- Yve whispers -they’re really good-

-i could never- I chuckle

I would probably be at the hospital if I even tried to stand on it for a second

After some other crazy backflips and shit the carousel stops

Matt looks at me in the eyes and I feel myself getting this crazy feeling that I almost never had in my entire life

He smirks and winks at me

“Wait…did he REALLY do that to me?”

-Matt, we gotta help Nick with the tickets- Chris points at the control box where the poor boy is being pressured selling tickets to hundreds of people

-yeah…- the brunette looks at me a last time and heads to the other brothers

“he's so fin-Y/N! Stop having crushes on random people that show you affection,okay?” my cheeks get red at the thought of the last gesture that the man did

“but still…what if he wasn't doing that to me? What if I'm just being delusional? what if-”

My thoughts get interrupted by my friend

-girl, are you okay? You're blushing like crazy right now!- she laughs

-stop! It's better if we go try the attractions- we head to the nearest one

*one hour later*

It's time to (finally) go on the tagada

Yve pays her ticket and sits on the first free place she found

-it’s 3 dollars- Nick tells me and I take the money to give him

-Wait!- I look at the boy's side and I see matt -i’ll pay her ticket-

At those words I smile -don’t worry it's just 3 dollars!-

-nah, you shouldn't worry- he hands me the ticket -come on!-

I take it a bit reluctantly and sit far from my friend since almost all the good places got taken

I begin to hold myself tight to not slip/fall

Like I said before, my friend is literally unbothered by all of this

She doesn't even hold much most of the times

Maybe I'm too scared, i should be relaxed like her

I'm not gonna die for a stupid game after all

SWIMMING POOLS BY KENDRICK LAMAR PLAYS

My favorite song starts and I smile looking at Yve that mouths "im here just because of you"

I rool my eyes and we both laugh

-okay, ladies and gentlemen or whatever! The ride is initiating so hold yourself and have fun!- Nick states in the microphone

The two brothers are the last to enter

They both positionate in the middle, Matt right in front of me

He smiles and i do so too

“I'm 100 percent sure now that he's flirting with me” I think

Nobody ever flirted with me, people always tried to avoid being near me

Except Yve

She sees the real me and Im really grateful for that

The carousel starts and I feel quite nervous

It first spins around not too fast but some seconds after it forces some thrusts

As always, I was about to fall from the seat

Meanwhile Matt and Chris where perfectly standing and occasionally jumping to avoid the thrusts

I was watching them thinking that I wanted to learn how to do that too

I manage to not slip for almost the whole time

The ride was about to end and Nick announces the last round

I turn to mouth to my friend “help me” and she replies with “its all right”

The carousel spins around really fast and I try my best to stay where I am

Suddenly Matt loses balance and bumps into me

It didn't hurt much fortunately and he sits beside me

The game stops, making everyone stand up and head to the exit

I was about to too but the boy takes my hand

-i…I wanted to apologize for what happened- he says -did I hurt you?-

-im fine, don't worry!- I smile -and thanks again for the ticket-

-no problem, babe- he smirks

I feel myself exploding mentally and almost physically

-well…I have to go, see you- I leave and he follows me

-can't you stay a bit more?- I turn to face him

-i should be with my friend actually…-

I stop to think

This boy is trying to flirt with me and he's also my type

Yve will understand

I take my phone and text her

•YVE• •YOU•

You can go without me,

I'll explain later

fine...

✅(read)

---------------------------------------------------

-okay, now I can- his face seems to enlighten at my words

-great! Wanna take a drink?- I nod a yes and we head to the nearest bar

⭒₊ ⊹🌕₊ ⊹⭒⭒₊ ⊹🌕₊ ⊹⭒⭒₊ ⊹🌕₊ ⊹⭒⭒₊ ⊹🌕₊

PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU LIKED IT :D

SEE YAAAA

[soundwavemain]

Hold Your Heart In My Hands

A JazzWave fic requested by @fanficmaniatic | @karday 

General content warning for blood and tending to an injury.

In the surveillance room, Soundwave often found solace from his rowdy compatriots. No one bothered to step foot inside, not even his cassettes who were frankly too nosy for their own good. If anyone did accidentally enter the infamous surveillance room, they were subject to an interrogation from the Decepticon’s intimidating communications officer. Soundwave wasn’t stupid–he knew that not many aboard the Nemesis truly enjoyed his company. They were too put off by his stilted speech, his silent E.M. field, and his blank stare to attempt any friendly banter let alone stumble upon his secret sanctuary.

Of course, the surveillance room was the one place on the Nemesis that didn’t have any cameras monitoring it. Not even the hallway directly outside the door had a screen to display movement. With three vents leading to the room and how much time Soundwave spent inside it, it would be embarrassingly easy to off such an important member of Decepticon high command. Not that Soundwave was worried. He could handle almost anyone among their ranks and it wasn’t like the Autobots had enough gall to attack their vessel.

A tiny noise filtered through one of the vents. Soundwave stared at it as the sound of metal against metal slowly increased in volume until the vent cover popped off with a resounding slam! He sighed, covering his visor with his servo. Another clang echoed in the room as something much heavier than a vent cover landed on the floor. Soundwave dragged his servo across his faceplate. He should’ve erased the mech’s damn memory of this route. It would’ve been simple enough to restrain him, open up his helm, pick apart his processor to locate and lock the strain in his core files.

Instead, Soundwave snapped at the mech on his floor, “Jazz: not welcome here.”

Jazz smirked at Soundwave. He moved so his spinal strut rested against the wall. “C’mon, mech. You didn’t say that last time–”

“Jazz: desist,” Soundwave hissed to the spy’s amusement.

They both knew there would be no removing Jazz by physical means before he wanted to leave. Soundwave turned back to his wall of monitors. If Jazz insisted on staying, then Soundwave needed to do his best to ignore him. His optics followed the movements on the screens. Skywarp was testing her teleportation limits with Shockwave, Rumble and Frenzy were running from an oil-slicked Starscream, Shadow Striker raced through the halls, narrowly dodging mechs walking through the hallways, Hook removed a rogue missile from Vortex’s chassis–

A sharp tug at Soundwave’s processor nearly made him fall forward from the sudden abrasiveness of it. He managed to stay upright but his frame locked up. The pull dissipated to a weak pulse of energy. Soundwave had felt sensations much stronger than it many times outside the surveillance room. A damaged mech on the battlefield automatically requesting medical aid from a grievous injury, a cassette shot down while performing reconnaissance–they always released a distressing field to garner pity from nearby mechs.

Soundwave whipped around to stare down at Jazz who, while not under the Decepticon’s watchful gaze, had let his faceplate slip into a grimace. All at once, Soundwave realized Jazz’s E.M. field loosened from its tight shield held close to the mech’s plating and it was suddenly too difficult to ignore. The third in command moved without conscious thought, dropping to kneel beside the Autobot that had invaded the Nemesis time and time again.

“Jazz: injured?” Soundwave tried cautiously.

He had seen the other mech on the battlefield enough times to know that Jazz acted like a cybercat when hurt–he’d slink off when no one was paying attention to tend to his own wounds.

Once, in the aftermath of a particularly brutal battle, Soundwave went searching for a cassette that had gone missing in the fray. Instead, he had found Jazz splayed out on the ground with a giant chunk of his spinal strut sparking, incapable of movement. He could’ve terminated the mech–no one had ever caught the elusive Jazz with his guard down–but when Soundwave raised his blaster, Jazz merely tilted his helm back. As if the matter of deactivation was beyond him.

It irked him. It set off alarms across his HUD. Yet…

Soundwave had healed Jazz that day. Behind a cracked rock, Soundwave welded some wires closed–a butchered job at field medicine but it allowed the Autobot to crawl back to a real medic.

Now, Jazz winced, tilting his helm away. “Hope that offer’s still on the table. Even though we’re not… you know.”

Soundwave sighed in exasperation. Leave it to Jazz to use the worst words to describe their–don’t call it a relationship, it’s not a damned courtship–liaison. That was worse. He grabbed at Jazz’s arm, popping a piece of armor off to reveal the medical ports hidden beneath.

“Hey.” Jazz attempted to pull his arm back but his strength was waning. “Not even gonna offer a mech some energon first?”

Yes, Soundwave thought bitterly as he jammed one of his plugs into Jazz’s medical port, this was definitely worse. He ignored the other mech’s comments as he called upon the frame’s diagnostic data. His HUD lit up in an instant with notifications. He went through them, noting any concerning input before coming across a notice flashing red across his visor. A laceration in the upper chassis caused by rapid and continued movement jostling an embedded–

“You were shot?” Soundwave suddenly hissed, surprise overriding his vocalizer patch. He tried to look at Jazz in the optics but the spy kept avoiding his gaze. “Jazz: found by Decepticons?” His processor ran a mile a minute, formulating scenarios that would end in this exact outcome. He had never asked what brought the spy to his surveillance room that one fateful night, what kept him coming back for more, out of respect for both their sensitive jobs, but now Soundwave couldn’t help but wonder who among his ranks shot his–

“Not a Decepticon,” Jazz hissed. “An Autobot.”

“Oh.” That silenced Soundwave’s processor for a moment. Then it only piqued his interest. “Autobots: subject to insubordination?”

If the Autobots began attacking their own, they might be even easier to fell in a sweep led by Starscream should Megatron allow it…

A digit tapped Soundwave’s helm, bringing him back to the conversation. Right. Jazz was injured. And Soundwave was already planning the Autobots’ demise. He reset his vocalizer to ensure it didn’t needlessly glitch out on him again.

Before he had a chance to say anything, Jazz smirked at him and asked, “Soundwave: apologetic?”

The Decepticon couldn’t help the way his pauldrons hiked in his embarrassment. It was a far cry from a perfect mimicry of his voice but it didn’t need to be to get the point across. Instead of deigning Jazz with a proper response, he finally located the bullet wound and dug his digits in. Jazz hissed, batting at his arm.

“Easy, mech.”

“Jazz: not easy,” Soundwave mocked. He pressed his free servo against the other mech’s collar faring as his digits searched for the bullet.

It felt odd to be sticking his servo somewhere so close to Jazz’s spark, like an uncomfortable pinch to his sensornet’s common stimuli. This close, he couldn’t ignore the normally silent spy. Not just his words–Jazz’s entire frame seemed to work under the assumption that no one was authorized to listen to it. So the freed E.M. field, the frantic and nonsensical thought processes filtering through his audials, were… odd to say the least. He couldn’t mention it aloud, though. Knowing the intelligence officer, he’d scare the poor mech away by mentioning any of his internal functions.

Soundwave’s digits knocked against something. He checked Jazz’s faceplate and when he didn’t contort it any more than it already was, Soundwave grasped the object. It was small, solid–the bullet. As he began to remove it, Jazz’s servo covered his. He paused, staring at the Autobot’s blank visor. “Bullet: needs to be removed. Frame nanites cannot begin self-healing with alien object obstructing their–”

Jazz gritted his dentae to ignore the pain. “If that bullet comes out, you’re gonna have worse problems than a dead Autobot on your hands.”

“Earth slang,” Soundwave tutted.

At that, Jazz grinned. “This Earth slang got pretty far with you, didn’t it?”

Soundwave twisted his digits. “Desist,” he ordered.

“Scrap. I got the message, mech.” Jazz pushed at Soundwave’s arm. They were still attached. Somehow, that was more embarrassing than being servo-deep in the mech’s chassis. “‘s a tracking bullet.”

The Decepticon froze. An Autobot shot Jazz with a tracking bullet. An Autobot shot Jazz with a tracking bullet. Soundwave’s frame moved subconsciously, pressing the blaster he kept tucked away in his subspace against Jazz’s mandible. The barrel forced Jazz to tilt his helm back. He batted at Soundwave’s arm like he wasn’t being held at gunpoint. Like Soundwave wasn’t flinging his energon everywhere.

“Relax,” Jazz insisted, hissing low. “It won’t send a locator beacon.” He pushed at Soundwave’s arm–not the one aiming a gun at his helm. No. The one still forming a medical connection between the two mechs. “My security protocols deactivated my internal locator beacon millennia ago. Which means,” he drawled, visor flickering, “the bullet’s signal is blocked as long as it’s in my frame.”

It made sense, Soundwave reasoned with all of his processing that still argued to kill Jazz–annihilate the enemy, the threat to his cassettes. He shook his helm. Those logic strains were based on irrational emotions. It wouldn’t do him well to give them any credence. Still, his blaster remained where it was. “Jazz: true purpose for coming here. Answer now.”

Usually, anyone–Autobot and Decepticon–trembled at the rumble in Soundwave’s glyphs when he took on a threatening tone. Under normal circumstances, the Decepticon’s third in command could paint fear in the spark of any mech he spoke to.

Jazz was not an average mech.

His servo tugged at Soundwave’s, pulling it closer to his chassis. “Gonna make me say it, huh.” He wasn’t asking. He knew. Soundwave wasn’t the type of mech to do anything unless he was asked and he would make Jazz ask. “You’ve got those seismic waves, right? I’ve seen you use them on the battlefield. Destroyed everything in your path.” He pressed Soundwave’s servo flat against his wound. “Think you can focus that right here for me?”

Soundwaves were catastrophic weapons. They could deactivate an entire squadron of mechs in a matter of kliks. Soundwave only used the trick when under extreme stress, when he believed he had nothing left to lose. He attempted to separate himself from Jazz. “Seismic waves: incredibly damaging.”

But Jazz didn’t seem to comprehend the magnitude of his request. He pressed forward, clutching Soundwave’s servo. “When used by a random mech, sure. You’re not just anybody, Sounds.” His glyphs turned to a soft buzzing static as he said the Decepticon’s designation. It left Soundwave checking to see if the noise had knocked his gyros off kilter. “C’mon. You can focus that power here, can’t you?”

“Jazz: requires medical assistance,” Soundwave tried instead. He couldn’t escape Jazz’s iron-clad grip on his servo but knew that if Jazz persisted, it wouldn’t end well. He could deactivate him. “Soundwave: incapable of completing request.”

“Hey,” came Jazz’s gentle voice. Soundwave silently cursed how the tender intonation made it so his spark eased in its casing. The Autobot reached for his other servo, the one holding the blaster. It fell with a clatter as Jazz slid his digits across his palm and intertwined their digits. “Use that big, beautiful processor of yours. I know you’re still searching through our connection. You’ve gotta be able to see my spark readings. What do they say?”

Despite the uneasiness that continued to plague Soundwave’s field, he listened to Jazz. It was simple enough to pull the information from their link. His visor dimmed as the readings filled his HUD.

He froze.

Although Jazz was suffering from an injury, trapped under the stress from energon loss, his spark spun at an even pace. Soundwave’s visor brightened to the image of Jazz’s calm faceplate. 

“I trust you, Soundwave.”

Oh.

Oh.

And wasn’t that just a terrifying thing? Soundwave held his enemy’s life in his servos. He didn’t even want to take it–what kind of Decepticon was he? He stared at where his servo still covered Jazz’s wound, then at the rapidly dimming blue visor.

“Soundwave: will try,” he said slowly.

The smile Jazz threw his way sent his spark spinning again. He busied himself by building up seismic waves to the speed of his spark. A low, constant hum filled the surveillance room as the waves traveled through his arm. He increased the force, the hum turning into a deep, plating-rattling rumble. Multiple pop-ups filled his HUD. He cleared them before they could convince him to stop. The bullet was deteriorating from the collisions. Soundwave could do this. He could do this for Jazz. Red flashed across his optics as he doubled down. They only needed to hold out just a bit longer. He watched the last pieces of the tracking bullet evaporate, entering Jazz’s fuel lines to be discarded.

Soundwave did it.

He saved Jazz.

“Jazz–!”

The glyphs turned into a frenzied static as Soundwave finally looked at Jazz’s grey visor. All too suddenly, the sensation of the other mech’s limp grip registered to Soundwave’s overtaxed processor. An odd, warbled noise echoed in the surveillance room. It took him a moment to realize that the sound came from him.

“Jazz,” he whispered, leaning close to the other mech.

There wasn’t the comforting thrum of a spark easing into a normal spin rate, no readings going into the green as Jazz’s frame finally relaxed while its nanites worked to repair him–only silence.

“Jazz,” he tried again. “Jazz: respond.”

Nothing.

“Jazz,” his glyphs were basically static at that point, cracking from the force on his vocalizer, “respond.”

It felt like a cacophony of sensations–the hum of mechs speaking through the monitors, the constant buzz of the equipment, the erratic vents coming from Soundwave. He had to do something. But what? He was a communications officer. He managed surveillance. He couldn’t even perform basic field medicine, let alone reactivate a terminated mech.

“Jazz,” Soundwave sobbed.

His digits dug into the wound, energon already congealing at the opening. He hoped for a curse, a swat from the other mech’s servo for the harsh treatment. He searched through their medical link for any readings. The only reports that came up were the last spark notes, the speed of its spin, how it abruptly stopped–

Soundwave froze. He read the report, then read it again. Jazz’s spark skipped then skittered to a stop when Soundwave amped up his waves. Perhaps… he could use his waves to jumpstart Jazz’s spark.

It had to work.

It had to.

The release for Jazz’s chestplates was easy to find through their link. They opened with a hiss from the hydraulics already beginning to seize. Inside lay his spark–bright white, nearly blinding, but starting to dull by the klik. Soundwave pressed both his servos against it, wincing at the heat it gave off and the way Jazz’s arm came along with his. He released his seismic waves just as he had done before. His optics searched frantically for some sort of physical sign that it was working. When there was nothing, he searched through their connection. Jazz’s spark was stagnating–not brightening, not turning dull. Soundwave increased the power of his waves, ignoring the sound of their armor rattling against protoform.

And–

Frame reboot: successful.

Running diagnostics.

On instinct, Jazz dismissed the scans. His processor ached and the screenings usually didn’t tell him anything he couldn’t feel for himself.

Reinitializing diagnostic scans.

Now that was odd…

Jazz searched through his HUD for what was overriding his commands and found a basic connection formed between his medical ports and another mech. His processor lagged for a moment as it attempted to form the necessary logic strains to figure out what happened.

That’s when one hundred percent of the past however long hit him like a semi–Optimus had apologized for cycles after but, scrap, it still ached in his pelvic joints–

Jazz groaned. His helm fell back, clanging against the wall. “Pitslag. ‘s like Volcanicus stepped on me…” A firm weight shuffled in his lap. When he onlined his optics, he met Soundwave’s bright yellow gaze. “Hey, Sounds. I’m ‘nna guess everything went well.”

At first, Soundwave said nothing. Just kept his unwavering gaze set on Jazz’s faceplate. Then he raised a servo and pressed it against Jazz’s mandible, soft to start then firm once he realized Jazz wasn’t going to leave. A creaky, frail noise came from his vocalizer. All at once, he pressed forward, pulling Jazz closer.

“Jazz: functioning,” he whispered over and over again.

He pressed his mask to Jazz’s faceplate. It left the spy quite thrown for a loop. Jazz tried to turn and face Soundwave but was stopped by the Decepticon’s mouth on his–when’d he even lower his mask? His frame froze, hydraulics seizing with a whine. Soundwave was kissing him.

Soundwave was kissing him.

Since when–

Subconsciously, Jazz shook his helm. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth–earth slang–and offlined his optics. His arms came around Soundwave’s middle, his digits fitting into the grooves along the Decepticon’s spinal strut. The divide between his chassis and Soundwave’s was nonexistent, held together as they were. A ping came up on his HUD that he had finally reached an optimum internal temperature after rebooting. When Soundwave pulled away, Jazz felt dazed, confused. He didn’t bother to online his optics.

“You gotta tell me what happened.”

Soundwave slipped closer. “Request: later?”

“Later,” Jazz agreed. “Later.”

[voidsentprinces]

Adult Drama is weird. Like...even though I work at a gas station and you expect some weirdness. But my first year working here, I got some backrow seats to some weird soap opera drama going down.

The gas station, I work at, had just been renovated and was going through a "soft opening". In that we were accepting customers, getting the store set up by installing mirrors. Getting in iced coffee and getting the stocking and all the random stuff like insurance, gas delivery, food delivery etc. situated.

To begin there was the main manager, the assistant manager, the day shift who wanted to become assistant manager but due to having to wait for the insurance to kick in couldn't because the assistant manager needed to have access to reliable transportation. And without the insurance kicking in yet, they couldn't yet afford subscription glasses to get a license to get a car to get assistant transportation. Which is why even though they were the logical choice to be the assistant manager, the dude who became the assistant manager was someone lets just say...underqualified to doing the job.

So, reiterate, the main manager (works 9am - 5pm), the one chosen to be the assistant manager so we could eventually grand open in March, the person working morning to afternoon who should of been the assistant manager, the morning barista (cooks food from 4:30am - 9am part time gig), the afternoon shift lady, and two graveyard shifts. Alone Monday through Thursday and then working together Friday through Sunday (9pm - 5:30am).

The situation that is important is the assistant manager thingie. Aforementioned but the guy doing the job was more than just half-assing it. Which is why the Manager was waiting for the 1st shift worker to get insurance to eventually replace the current assistant manager. That was...until, they accidentally sold tobacco to an undercover test shopper.

For those who do not know, three bodies: Mystery Shopper, Local Police, and Corporate will occasionally send someone underage to come into a store and attempt to buy tobacco to see if the staff are I.D.ing and denying sale of tobacco, alcohol and lottery for those underage (Tobacco and Alcohol are 21 years for purchase while lottery is 18) in accordance to law.

The company has a strict, one strike your out policy. Because California law can strip any company not following this law of tobacco, alcohol, and lottery sales certification. The person who was to become the assistant manager and take over for the guy who was like...barely doing the job at all. Failed a test shopper and was subsequently fired on the spot by corporate. Leaving main manager to have to function with this newly opened gas station with an assistant manager half-assing the job the entire way through.

Well, Void, I mean you cannot fault a guy for half-assing a job that pays shit in this economy. I mean sure fine yeah, but also like...its kind of difficult for a business to function if said assistant manager isn't ordering important things like...cleaning products, tampons, coffee for morning rush, and soda bibs correctly. So we end up with things that just do not sell? And also spent like...the beginning of their shift in the bathroom, two hours of their shift doing the wrong orders, and the rest of it getting high at the dumpster outside? Its also difficult for me to do my job of keeping the place functionally clean if we run out of cleaning products, gloves to protect me from some chemicals used to clean the pumps to keep grime, oil, and dirt from building up as well?

In any case, due to the previous person ideal to the role getting fired, he's now around for longer than necessary. Which leads to the adult drama ahead:

The barista and the assistant manager. I've told you about the assistant manager but now its time to bring in the barista. Who was a married woman with kids and also part of a JW branch. Because the assistant manager comes in at 4:30am - 1pm and the Barista kind of works as a cashier fill in after they're done stocking and cooking in the morning. The two work close together alone from 4:30am until the Barista leaves at the end of the part time shift at 9am.

She starts using this time to try and convert the assistant manager to the JW religion. But something gets crossed...and they start catching feelings for each other. The manager comes in at 9am to 5pm to work their shift and notices they none too subtly are starting to take their lunches and leave and return with one another. And then they start spending time off shift together.

I am...like...half sure adultry is frowned upon by the JW religion...as are birthdays...and any holiday but putting that aside. This woman is still very much married with near adult children and a husband.

Let me digress by saying, that eventually due to corporate's rules that two people dating cannot work together due to workplace bias. The barista discreetly quits. But the assistant manager STILL goes to his lunch really quickly and drives off in a hurry. And from time to time, the barista shows up to get gas during my graveyard shift. And the assistant manager is most definitely in the car with her.

This all comes to a weird head when the aforementioned husband, one day shows up at my work during the last hour of my shift TO TRY AND THROW DOWN WITH THE ASSISTANT MANAGER IN THE MOTHERFUCKING PARKING LOT.

Since we're in the market for a new barista, the main manager is coming in early morning. So that assistant manager is now the unofficial barista cooking in the morning. ALONG WITH. Me and the secondary graveyard and anyone else pulling up on a Monday morning to witness the spectacle.

Words at exchanged but no fists are thrown because...boy all the witnesses yeah? The husband eventually leaves and the assistant manager comes back in and is all like, "I just wanna live my life man." ...my dude you are helping a woman cheat on her husband and you're surprised the husband has decided to hunt your ass down? But you just wanna live your life and be left out of this drama you are participating in? AMAZING! PLEASE CONTINUE!

The drama does NOT stop there. Because...like...holy shit. We have a regular who comes in to buy cigarettes on a weekly to nightly basis. Now and this will become important in a second:

This man is, for lack of a better definition, the most baby boomer to ever baby boom. Think of a baby boomer man. Old? Putting on the weight? Balding? Chain smoking? Hates his wife? Very weird about his politics to a racist if not bigoted degree? This guy checks all the lists.

I bring him up because he is one of the lucky millions to be kicked out of a cushy office job meant to grant him stability and a nice comfy retirement during the seventeen recessions we had. And now works at a pizza place as a delivery driver.

You know who else works at that pizza place? The barista's daughter.

The barista's daughter is obviously caught in the middle of this clusterfucker of the assistant manager and the barista in a relationship despite the barista being married with kids. And she actually has turned to THIS MAN. AND ASKS WHY PEOPLE FALL OUT OF LOVE! This man is not qualified to give ANY ADVICE TO A YOUNG ADULT WORKING THEIR STARTER JOB AT A PIZZA DELIVERY PLACE ON WHY MARRIAGES FALL APART!

Anticlimatically, the Assistant Manager eventually leaves too because, lo and behold if you do a bad enough job at your...job. Corporate will start laying into you and eventually he leaves. Still occasionally shows up with the ex-barista to drive off somewhere together. Apparently, that entire family has now been ex-communicated from that JW branch due to what transpired. And everything gets quiet again.

So yeah that is...uhh...adult drama is fucking weird.

[lokfeedsthegays]

Hi, hello. Posting like crazy rn but

I wrote a test snippet for a Mako fic I’m working on!! <3

The basic premise I’m thinking for this fic is Mako, a few months after the events of ROTE, becomes a private investigator, and through some turn of events goes to the Fire Nation, where he encounters his aunt he didn’t know he had.

As he investigates further, a case that he thought would be small and brief unfolds into a conspiracy with him in the middle of it. To boot, he’s been feeling strange, and has suspicions of its source being from his takedown of the spirit vine engine.

Any feedback appreciated 👀

—

Mako sat in an unfamiliar position in front of the Pai Sho board.

The constant ticks of his aunt’s clock resonated throughout the room. It made a noise that was debatably worse than silence would be. It made him feel like every second mattered when there was no viable time limit to latch onto. His aunt was patient enough, sitting there with her fingers folded under her chin.

As still as the room was, with his aunt and the golden, ornate grandfather clock being his only company, Mako was having an unusually hard time focusing.

The reason for his negligence of what was right in front of him continued to elude him. Something in his core buzzed at him like a hit of coffee, or a bout of adrenaline when he was running. But there was nothing wrong in the house. Just a quiet game of Pai Sho with his aunt.

And yet, sitting there on the red floor pillow, leaning over the short table, he felt something was wrong. The feeling was persistent, yet unhelpfully vague. Every time he glanced up he could feel tremors in his energy, like waves coming off of her and hitting him, resulting in mounting suspicion and anxiety when there was cause for none.

And most unhelpfully, it made his scarred arm ache, which meant he had to move his pieces with his other hand.

Mako moved one of the boat tiles from its perch on the edge, testing the waters. His line was caught as he hooked a smirk from his aunt that meant he did something wrong.

“No, the boat tile can’t move that way, dear. Move it back and try again”.

Pai Sho being different for various cultures was no joke. Mako thought it ridiculous when Bolin asked Korra to standardize Pai Sho rules in the middle of their steakout all those years ago, but he started to consider his little brother’s perspective a lot more seriously now that plenty of his moves were wrong by Fire Nation standards.

And each critique his aunt gave him chipped away at his ego. “I’m afraid that would be a useless move here, Mako. You could do it, but that doesn’t mean you should”.

If it were an actual game, he’d surely be drowning.

“Sorry. You said that”, Mako sighed, moving his misstep back to its original position. The board was barely changed in what had to be nearly an hour. “I guess I’m just distracted”.

“By what?”

Mako hated the way he impulsively averted his gaze when his aunt looked at him. She looked so much like his mom, just aged. Which wasn’t a surprise; they were sisters. But it made him ache for the impossibility that he could ever see his mom older than she was in the pictures. Or his dad, for that matter.

The only victory of contentment he could have now was seeing Bolin grow old. But it wasn’t like it’d be the same. Bolin being around that long was a success Mako didn’t deserve praise for. It was a necessity; something natural and simple. Anything for his brother. But seeing his parents, just older…it’d mean his life would be a lot different. He was at the point where he was unsure if that was a good or bad thing. Maybe just different.

“I dunno. I’ve been having weird feelings lately. I mean, like, sensations. In my chest and my arm. I’m worried that there’s something Kya missed when healing me”. As he told her this, his chest buzzed at a harsher level, like electricity was trying to reach his mouth and get him to shut up. His wrist throbbed, sending mini shockwaves of pain through his fingers.

“You know, there are specialized healers here in the Fire Nation”, Keima hummed, reaching out to take his hand and examine it with a sharp gaze. “I’m sure they could help you sense what’s giving you trouble. We have resources. Maybe an Earth Kingdom acupuncturist would help”.

Mako shuddered at the thought of needles. “Uh, no thanks. On the acupuncture, I mean. But…’sense’ what’s wrong with me? These are reputable healers, right?”

Mako recalled when he and Bolin were younger, and one of their frequent betters got Bolin on a healing crystal stint. Luckily it lasted for about a week; it didn’t take Mako long to convince Bolin that rocks helping auras was stupid, and there’s no way they were spiritual. He couldn’t bend them not because a spirit made them, but because they were made of cheap plastic.

And, in his defense, a week was a very short time for Bolin to not listen to him on something.

“Oh, of course! They’ll just read your energy and determine what’s best for you in terms of medicine. If any. You may be fine, and just experiencing phantom pains”.

‘Reading his energy’ didn’t sound very reputable to Mako. He must have shown his doubt on his face, because Keima gave him a warm chuckle. “My dear, surely you know that we Firebenders have applications beyond battle, right?”

“Well, sure”, Mako grunted, “I used to use my fire to heat up me and Bo on colder nights. And I used my lightning in a factory job once”.

“Practical and smart”, Keima praised, only to immediately spin it around. “But brutish, all things considered”.

Mako couldn’t take the jab to heart. His mother’s side of the family was apparently pretty well-off. They wouldn’t have to use it for battle much, unless something like an Agni Kai rolled around. Mako never learned their formal styles of Firebending. Breathing and feeling the energy and warmth of the sun seemed like a slower process than what was ideal.

He could agree it had merit, but he didn’t have time to rely on the sun and take deep breaths. His desperation and sheer force of will seemed to be enough for him. When he trained with Zolt in Lightningbending, he was praised on how fast he could get a bolt out. That was all he needed. No seconds wasted.

He found his grit to have further benefits in pro-bending. Toza couldn’t give Mako proper training like he could with Bolin, but Mako still took to the teachings of Earthbending in as much as he could.

He heard how earth was an element that someone needed to face down if they wanted it to bend to their will. Hold their ground, keep a wide stance. Be unwavering and confident.

Mako initially found it tricky. How was he supposed to face down something that came from within? Fire was so reliant on him. But in a way, it worked. Fire was a part of him he could think about looking in the eye and telling it that it was gonna do what he said whether it liked it or not. It wasn’t gonna get out of control, it was gonna come out quick, and it was gonna keep him and his brother warm and alive, even if the sun wasn’t out.

It cut the time of his lightning generation in half.

But he saw how formal Firebenders moved. How normal Firebenders moved. They didn’t swing their arms around and punch and kick like they were forcing their flames to come out. Fire seemed to erupt from their palms, the arches of their feet, blossoming in a wide motion until they cradled it. They raised it. They let it go, then it died.

It was slower than what he did, but for some reason he envied it. Or maybe he just envied never getting the chance to learn it like they did. He wasn’t completely sure.

“We feel our chi- our relationship with the fire’s warmth. It relies and is born from our energy, and in that way, it connects to others. We can feel what’s tangled up and impure, and it tells us how to conduct those pathways into something better. Something healthier. That’s why I suggested acupuncture. It’s a natural next step”.

“I’ll be happy just to know what’s going on. For a while I couldn’t even Firebend in this arm, and it’s still giving me more trouble. I still can’t Lightningbend, and it’s hard to even write. My hand shakes”.

“Then we’ll see what the trouble is this afternoon. I’ll make an appointment with Yangun. She’s one of the best around this area. Don’t worry, we’ll get this worked out in no time”, his aunt said with a warm smile. Mako looked away, feeling like his stomach was doing somersaults, electrified by that buzzing from his chest.

“In the meantime, why don’t we continue? I’ll reset the board”.

——

[dojae-huh]

you should be hoping sm doesn't pull on DJJ the same crap they pulled on CBX instead of asking why a fan would want them to leave the company. LSM was literally a money launderer.... the good music will follow an idol no matter where they go if they are talented. so you shouldn't be worried if jaedo leaves sm. if you are a fan, you need to be by their side, not sm's. what if sm doesn't pay them too? if sm was scamming CBX out of their money you don't think they are doing to other artists? if i remember correctly LSM was hoarding all the wayv money for himself 😭

I'm not on SM's side, I don't work for them, and I'm not a company stan.

I'm also a freelancer, a person who prefers financial instability to working for a company and following someone else's rules. Never lasted more than a year in an institution.

You, fans who cry your faves need to leave their company this instant, are very naive and detached from reality. Many of you don't even yet pay taxes or feed a family.

Good music doesn't follow nice idols. If it was so, the talented yt singers and indie artists would have showered the world with bangers and got money from their talents. Instead of singing covers in local bars and their tiny yt channels. Somehow it is "factory produced" pop-stars and rappers instead who get famous.

There is no "dating app" for producers. You need to know people, have connections, or be the one everyone sends their demos to. It was hated by the fans Chris Lee who travelled around the globe and collected all those European and American producers. It is SM's money and reputation that makes aspiring Korean producers send them their tracks in hopes of being chosen.

There are very few songwriters among idols. Even fewer idols who can be a manager or a CEO. There are more than 3 hundred idol companies in Korea, and only 5 or 7 are really successful. Even Pledis with self-producing 17, an idol group second only to BTS in popularity, was bought by Hybe (i.e. they had to sell themselves otherwise they couldn't continue).

Look at Jessi. She is very talented, she is good at variety, she knows a lot of people in the industry, she writes her own songs, and she struggles non-stop. She was scummed by one of the people who she hired, an orginiser for her concerts in Europe.

Look at Kang Daniel. He was and stays one of the most popular idols in Korea, he is a phenomenon. He opened his own company, he works like a horse on tv programmes to promote himself. And even his album sales started to go down.

2019: 500,134 copies sold

2020: 603,961 copies sold

2021: 320,114 copies sold

2022: 404,261 copies sold

2023: 171,552 copies sold

Where is Chungha?

I'm not saying it is impossible to become famous on your own, or that staying with one's company is always the best choice. No. It's business. Both sides use each other. Being a part of a big company has its downsides. Being independant or a part of a small company also has its downsides. SM is not strong in acting area, so leaving it as an actor (D.O.) or musical actor (Kyuhyun) makes sense. When it comes to idol music though?

You mentioned CBX.

On June 3, Ten Asia announced that Baekhyun has established his own company called "I&B100" and founded it on June 23 of last year before the issue of renewal contracts with SM was raised. Baekhyun will continue to work "separately and together" with SM through his own label during the contract renewal period. On June 19, SM and the three members announced that both parties had resolved their differences over contract dispute and the members had decided to stay with the agency.

Why the talented and super famous Exo members "resolved" their differences instead of leaving the hateful company? Because they are not stupid. They fought for their rights and improved their terms, but they still need SM's resources, the money that participation in Exo will bring. Baek's company is a production company. He can safely run it, make trial tests, learn the craft. And only later, when everything is running smoothly, when he gained reputation and trust, he can go into real independant sailing.

OK. Doyoung or Jaehyun leaves SM today. Where will they go? JYP? YG? The most famous and successul current soloists are Taeyeon, Baekhyun, Taemin (SM/Kakao), IU (Kakao), BTS guys and PSY. PSY has his own company, but Jessi left him, Hyuna left him, his boy group released only one EP and dissapeared. He is a bad producer and CEO, apparently.

Open their own companies? Doyoung didn't even finish school. He wants to be a CEO one day and he will. However, right now he has neither the capital, neither the fame to pull it off. Everything he gained was through SM. It is not enough to find a good song. You need investors who will pay for your MVs, you need album distributors and streaming platforms, you need PR managers who will look for tv-appearence opportunities and BA deals. You need translators and editors for YT content. Will Doyoung find them all on the street? With tens of years of experience under their belt?

NCT got their own centre. The right way for Doyoung is not to leave SM, but seize this centre, get producing and creative control over it, get all the executives under his thumb.

Different idols suit different companies. Soyeon wouldn't be given the free reign over her group in SM. It's because Cube failed with CLC, they risked it and tried to trust her talent of a producer. G-Dragon wouldn't become G-Dragon in SM either. And 17 became self-producing because Pledis was postponing their debut, didn't have money. On the other hand, Taeyong wouldn't have become Taeyong outside of SM. If Soyeon is a dandelion capable of growing through concrete. He is a capricious rose in need of a glasshouse.

SM is a company built by its artists as much as by the staff behind the scene. The older idols walked for newer idols to run. Taemin had to fight for the right to have more influence on the production side of his albums. Key fought for his vision. Kai invested his own resources. Seulgi and Taeyong? Practically produced their first albums. Shinee, even 127 gave out snacks to their first fans to slowly build a fanbase. Riize sold their single 1mln+ and are on top of brandrep after half a year after the debut.

Compare Hansol and Sungchan. One left. One stayed. Where are they now?

[drea-s-artblog]

Mousetrap

“Another gullible soul you plan to catch here?" - Eve's voice was cold, towards the sour-faced suit sitting in front of her, yet her expression remained unchanged. "Don't you have better things to do than get those obviously ripoff contracts on my back?”

“Don't patronize me, missy. I pay you good money for each of my visits, so it's not like you're hurting for it” - the man hissed, slamming the payment down at a table. “Just keep me out of whatever those delinquents are under, and stay out of my business!” There was a moment of an uncomfortable pause as they looked at each other. It was just a moment, but it felt too long and uncomfortable to him under the soulless gaze of those pitch-black eyes.

“Whatever” - her voice broke the silence, as she took another puff of her cigarette, filling the space with the new wave of cherry scent. “I’m not interested in dealing with anything connected to experimental wing of Weno’s anyway”

“WHAT? How did Y-you?” - he jumped up from the sofa, caught by surprise with that statement, getting slightly worked up.

“No need in making a scene” - she wave her hand, gesturing for him to sit down, - “Yes, I know what your darling company does, it’s not much of a secret if you know where to dig. Selling untested mods to naive idiots, ripping them off while at it, and keeping an eye on how fast the new victim succumbs to psychosis. And as my club tunes down visitor’s sense of danger, you cleverly use it as a perfect spot to get another fool on in your scheme. Am I correct?” Her unpleasantly calm tone set all kinds of alarm bells in his head. But before he could say a word, his vision grew blurry and his body went limp, unable to move. “Don’t worry, Terence, I’m not gonna tell anyone. As I said before, I have no interest in being involved in your business.” - she snapped her fingers, summoning two waiters to get him up. “Boys, would you be so kind as to get our guest to….” Dark. Everything is so dark. Someone’s voice could be heard, but it was so faint, almost like an echo behind the wall

“Mind…. memories….. recording” 

Terrence woke up in his office, disoriented and hungover as all hell. It was all just an alcohol dream. Best to go home and get a proper sleep. Getting up was a bit of a struggle with how heavy his head felt. But it was the hardest part of it. Now to get down to the lobby and get a ride home. Most are already off for the night. Just occasional cleaner bot running through the corridors. But something is off. He couldn’t put his mind to what exactly. But pausing to think about it was too much of a work for the alcohol clouded mind. That is until the dreadfully familiar alarm went off. “Containment breach”. Even hungover, Terence knew it was best to run and hope to not get spotted by a delirious, probably psycho victim of their tests. The man ran through the corridors, getting more and more confused as he kept making wrong turns and stumbling onto locked doors where there shouldn’t be any. Did his mind play tricks on him? Was he on the wrong floor? But he remembers the planning of the whole facility, how is that even possible? The more he tried to remember the right way - the more lost he got. Panic was setting in, slowly getting hold of his now sober mind, digging its cold fingers into his brain. There’s no way anyone from the security squad would be able to find him in time to evacuate. It’s a trap. He’s trapped in here with yet another mistake of their research team. He tried to hide, find a safe corner to hide, in hopes of not getting spotted, but it was too late. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the mangled figure, blindly wandering around. One wrong move and the figure was now staring at him. And then their eyes met. “Fa…ther? Why?” the trembling voice echoed in empty space “It… h-hurts… They… hurt… me”. That voice, that mangled, yet still familiar face. No, it couldn’t be happening. His son wasn’t supposed to be here. He tried to close his eyes and shake that image off like a trick of his blurred imagination. But it only got closer, making his skin crawl at the sight. He remembered the logs of that experiment. Pretty gruesome. Multiple mods to try out on one human. It wasn’t his client they had registered for it, so he wasn’t involved much. That only made this worse. He knew that the boy's clubbing habits were abysmal, but never expected it to end up like this. And then it all went to hell, when the delirious husk of his child launched forward, ready to kill him.

“His own son? Wow, you sure know how to make it extra gut-wrenching” - Richie muttered, watching the show with his arms crossed. “That’s what makes it so scary, don’t you agree?” - with a delighted smile, Eve checked the recording, giddy to start her work. “Just a few tweaks to the code, and whoever will run this gonna have the image replaced with one of someone they love. The raw emotion of this scene alone is gonna make us a bank. It’s perfect. The panic, the horror, the emotional turmoil, the guilt. Delicious piece for our clients to experience. Add to it the nice chunk of info on Weno’s shady business” “What will you do with it?” “Nothing.... for now. Anyways, be a darling and get the boys to dispose of garbage” “On it, ma’am”

[patrice-bergerons]

Crab day Q here- what about the fact that Tumblr has been making changes that ppl hate? Or the fact that they've flagged Trans ppl as mature? Or that they refuse to listen to its current base for things like Bot reforms and Nazi bans and Function updates? A lot of ppl wouldn't mind donating regularly, paying fun quirks of the site, or yk commissioning NSFW work through the site (which would make them so much $$) if they actually seemed to care about the current bases concerns. No one wants to give to a company that the same week a fundraiser is pitched there's changes made to the site that made it emulate a sinking ship (twitter)

You make great points! Like I just wrote in answer to another ask, it ultimately boils down to this:

Are you getting enough out of this site in its current flawed form that if it was between the site shutting down and you making a monetary contribution to it, you would choose the latter?

Because make no mistake, tumblr has problems and a whole lot of them. But I would still rather have it stick around even with its current issues, because between the chronological dashboard, the lack of a character limit, the ability to turn the algorithm off, tumblr gives me a unique offering I can't get anywhere else, and all my friends are here. And tumblr as it currently stands is massively unprofitable so something needs to change if it is to stick around for a long time.

That being said, the answer to the above question for you might as well be no and that's perfectly fine too--I certainly can't tell you that you are obligated to give money to tumblr if their service offering is not adding that much value to your life, especially given the many issues it has.

For what it's worth, I also think current management listens to the userbase's concerns...at least some of the time. For example, my understanding is that the layout update is something they are testing out and they are seeking user feedback on it. They also tend to give us the ability to turn most of their permanent updates off which is a marked difference to other sites. I don't think we have the most competent management or anything like that (how come they let so many Nazis run rampant on the site!) but they are juuust competent enough that there is a modicum of hope for the future imo.

[velathetanager]

Supernatural AU: Official Kay Origin

Kay is not the only one. There are seven, actually. About ten years ago, underworld scientists got funding from the ring of Greed/Avarice to create a mimicry of the Seven Swords concept that hadn't been touched since before the Fall (as far as they knew) using a nigh-limitless resource. Specifically, void power. The results were meant to be weapons. Objects. Certainly not sentient. But science isn't exact. And the seven experiments got out, eventually escaping to Earth and hiding among humans. The Seven, each bearing a number and mark on them matching one of the Seven Deadly Sins, don't fully know their story, but they're drawn by instinct to try and find each other. All of them have names, but I haven't decided any except for Kay's. Also, all of them love their wielders/hosts and will do terrible things to whoever tries to hurt them.

Pride found a princess of a little-known island, and with its power/knowledge and her ideas/connections (that totally don't involve weapons dealing or trafficking a drug that grants humans supernatural abilities), they turned that small island into a powerhouse nation in the 5 years since their coronation.

Envy found a business executive, and together they cut the others out of their jobs until they controlled the whole company. They've been helping Pride and its host with certain parts of their operations.

Greed found a con man that was down on his luck and the two go around stealing without getting caught. That part's just for fun, though. They mainly broker deals for the Six (all of them want it to be the Seven, which will spell problems for Houston) and handle all finance things (with Envy).

Gluttony found a nice guy who runs a restaurant chain. It's become a money laundering scheme since then, but the food is genuinely good. They also created whole new drugs that don't affect the body, but the soul (so they don't appear on drug tests or damage the body's systems), and had a physical fight with Greed to keep prices low.

Lust found a dancer, and through some very shady actions, they have come into ownership of clubs where dark deals and the like can take place, drowned out by music, dancing, and sounds of the night.

Sloth found a streamer whose mansion sometimes has to serve as a safehouse. One you access through tunnels. Also, they've become a hacker (partly to get an easy edge for games), and sometimes they have to do some track-covering for the others in their team.

And Wrath? Well, Wrath found a guy being shot at and jumped in. That guy is terrified of her power, but he loves her anyway. He named her Kay. Kay, when she has permission to use Houston's body, has been running hits for this smooth-talking guy who pays really well. Her instincts tell her she and Houston can trust him, but can they? Can they?

Please reply with commentary/questions, I want to talk about this so much

[mariacallous]

AMMAN, Jordan—Elsa Nodznaya was leaving class at JUGate Academy in December 2021 when she noticed a sleek, maroon-colored bus cutting through traffic. It was a stark contrast to the older, white buses she had watched languish in Amman’s notorious gridlock since she was born. She soon began to learn more about it.

The new vehicle was part of the Amman Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) network, which had opened earlier that year and combined aspects of bus- and rail-based public transit. Unlike other buses, the BRT’s fleet was granted its own lanes to sidestep traffic. The next day, the 24-year-old Nodznaya decided to buy a BRT pass through an app on her smartphone and test out the new buses herself.

Nodznaya had taken public transportation in the Jordanian capital before. Counterintuitively, what is called “public transit” in Amman has long been a private, for-profit enterprise of taxis, buses, and shared taxis known as “services”—essentially, a network of all vehicles that are not personal cars. Until the BRT, government-run transit did not exist.

Each of Nodznaya’s previous trips within the privatized public transit system had left her anxious, as she endured harassment and robbery. She was also frustrated navigating unreliable bus and service schedules; because Amman’s transit system is privately run, drivers often wait to depart stops until buses are full to maximize profits.

Before taking the BRT, Nodznaya experimented with other types of public transportation, squeezing herself onto Amman’s packed buses and paying high rates to service drivers. “It was awful,” Nodznaya said, recounting the thick air and claustrophobic crowds on the buses.

But from her first ride on the BRT, Nodznaya could see a difference.

“You get on the bus, and there’s space, there’s air conditioning, [there are] cameras, and there’s a limit to how many people can get on,” said Nodznaya, who now takes the BRT as part of her commute to her administrative job at an agricultural company in the Jordan Valley. “You don’t feel constantly worried.”

Jordanian women like Nodznaya are disproportionately impacted by gaps in public transportation access, since they are less likely than their male counterparts to have access to a car. Amman’s transit network is often not a realistic alternative. Over half of the city’s public transit users commute an hour or more per day and spend a significant portion of their income per month on transportation. Congested roadways mean that working women face long commutes and often return well after sunset, a practice stigmatized by many Jordanian families.

These trends have contributed to Jordanian women having one of the world’s lowest rates of labor force participation in the world, at 14 percent, despite their high levels of education. Nearly half of Jordanian women say they have turned down a job due to a lack of transportation, according to a 2018 survey conducted by the Jordanian civil society organization Sadaqa and the German foundation Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung.

“There are women who limit their outings because they don’t want to sit alone with a taxi driver or they feel the seats are too close together on [private] buses,” said Ayat Husseini, a Fulbright research fellow who studies vulnerable groups’ use of the BRT system, with a focus on refugees.

By cutting down on travel time and increasing safety on public transportation, the BRT has the potential to increase Jordanian women’s personal and professional autonomy. While the system has not been running long enough to gather robust data on how it has impacted women’s labor force participation in Amman, Husseini told Foreign Policy that there is initial unpublished research showing that women feel more comfortable using the BRT than other forms of public transit.

The government-backed BRT buses can carry about 50 passengers each and run every three minutes during peak hours. Tickets on its two major routes cost about half a dinar (approximately $0.78) and can be purchased through kiosks or smartphone applications. By comparison, Sadaqa found that nearly half of working women who take non-BRT public transportation spend 1 to 2 dinars getting to work, while the other half spend more than 2 dinars. With its low prices and improved overall service, the BRT is expected to help increase the percentage of overall commuters who use public transportation in Amman from 14 percent to 40 percent by 2025.

The BRT is operated by Amman Vision Investment & Development, a company owned by the Greater Amman Municipality. Before he began working on the BRT, Malek Bani Hamdan, Amman Vision’s health and safety officer, worked for more than a decade in Amman’s traffic police department, often responding to problems related to privately operated buses’ lack of fixed schedules, security cameras, passenger capacity limits, and well-marked stops. The latter two issues in particular led women to feel uncomfortable and vulnerable when in transit.

“The most common problem that my office delt with was gender harassment—like someone staring at a woman or saying something to make her uncomfortable on the private buses,” Bani Hamdan told Foreign Policy at the Amman Vision office.

Sadaqa’s research has found that more than 60 percent of women reported gender harassment while using public transportation. The most common type of harassment that women reported was inappropriate staring, followed by verbal abuse.

Bani Hamdan’s team aims to prevent these issues from happening on the BRT. Staff members monitor BRT bus interiors via CCTV cameras and operate a call center where riders can report complaints. In the future, BRT buses will be equipped to monitor their exteriors as well. In addition to the CCTV surveillance, Bani Hamdan says digital bus tracking and station lights have helped women feel safer, particularly when traveling in the evenings.

The BRT’s public financing model has also improved conditions for women. Private buses without fixed schedules often fail to enforce safety limits on the number of passengers who can board, meaning that women can find themselves in cramped vehicles without personal space.

“This structure is in large part why the service is unreliable. If everyone gets off the bus, they might not even finish the route,” said Hazem Zureiqat, who worked as a transport planner in the Greater Amman Municipality during the beginning of the BRT project. “The service is not attractive because it’s not reliable. A woman may have to wait at the bus stop at a place that’s isolated and unsafe, all while not knowing how long she’s going to wait.”

By contrast, BRT operators are paid based on kilometers driven, incentivizing them to stick with their routes and enforce limits on the number of passengers allowed on each bus. Amman Vision leaders hope that these changes will ultimately benefit the city’s most vulnerable citizens.

For now, however, the BRT has limited geographic reach. Only two routes are currently in operation, serving major transit hubs in the north and center of the city. “To get to BRT routes, you need to take other transportation, and the current transportation is ineffective, unreliable, and unsafe,” said Randa Naffa, a co-founder and manager of Sadaqa. “BRT as a service alone is better than the rest of the system. However, BRT will not solve the problem alone.”

Amman Vision and the Greater Amman Municipality plan to add more lines in the coming years. They also intend to expand beyond the city. The next phase of the BRT project includes a line from Amman to Zarqa, a city to the northeast of the capital. About 100,000 passengers will be able to shuttle between the two cities every day by the end of this year, according to Jordan’s Ministry of Transport. The municipality has also made transfers between some bus lines and the BRT free of charge, creating a larger network of transportation options for Amman’s residents.

The BRT project was launched in 2006 by former Amman Mayor Omar Maani. His team began by studying the distribution of residents and businesses in Amman with grants and loans from the World Bank and the French Development Agency. They weighed the option of buses against other forms of public transportation, including aboveground trams and underground subways.

“The BRT is simpler to implement than underground subways and aboveground systems. And the [BRT] buses themselves are safer and more comfortable,” said Husseini, the Fulbright fellow.

Despite their need for better public transportation, the Jordanian public has largely viewed government infrastructure projects like the BRT with cynicism. The BRT has taken more than a decade to complete and cost millions of dollars. After its launch, the BRT project came to a halt in 2011 amid accusations of corruption. An investigation eventually cleared Maani and the municipality’s team of wrongdoing, allowing the project to resume in 2015, but the allegations contributed to widespread public mistrust of the BRT and government projects more generally.

“We need to aggressively move forward with more improvements to the BRT service,” said Zureiqat, who now works at Engicon, an engineering consulting firm in Amman. “The main benefit is … the symbolism in showing people what it means to have proper public transportation.”

Since its rollout, the BRT’s ridership has been rapidly increasing. Today, the system carries about 700,000 riders per month. The high demand has resulted in longer wait times during peak hours. Despite their previous cynicism toward the BRT, Amman residents are now urging their city leaders to expand the system’s capacity to reduce wait times, add umbrellas along station platforms, and include night service.

Politicians are taking note. Late last year, Jordanian Prime Minister Bisher al-Khasawneh announced the government’s plan to establish new BRT routes connecting different governorates in Jordan. And within Amman, Riyad al-Kharabsheh, the director of public transport and infrastructure projects in the Greater Amman Municipality, has made it the BRT’s goal to cover the entire Jordanian capital.

“I don’t want just to stay home. I’ve always wanted to work outside the house,” said Nodznaya, reflecting on the impact that better transportation could have on her life. “On the BRT, I’m more comfortable, and it’s easy to use. Now we need more lines and more buses.”

[otiskeene]

Top 5 Live Chat Software Of 2023

Did you know that big brands like Amazon use Live Chat Software to assist customers in navigating their websites and answering questions about products? ASOS, the online clothing retailer, uses it to help with sizing and delivery inquiries, while software company Intercom leverages it to qualify leads and direct them toward making a purchase. Even Nissan uses live chat to engage potential customers and encourage test drive bookings.

Live Chat Software is transforming the way businesses communicate with their customers. By offering real-time support, it allows businesses to resolve queries quickly and close deals faster. In today’s fast-paced world, where instant responses are expected, Live Chat Software can significantly boost customer satisfaction and help foster long-term relationships. Sounds promising, doesn’t it?

If you want to elevate your customer service, implementing Live Chat Software is the way to go. However, with so many options, choosing the right one can be a challenge.

That’s why we’ve decided to help by listing the top 5 Live Chat Software of 2023.

Let’s explore the options! "Top 5 Live Chat Software of 2023"

Imagine if SpongeBob SquarePants had Live Chat Software at the Krusty Krab! He could’ve kept the customers happy while staying on top of his duties in the kitchen. With live chat, he could have answered customer questions, taken orders, and provided support—all without leaving his station.

While SpongeBob may be a cartoon character, the advantages of Live Chat Software are very real. Whether you run a restaurant or an ecommerce store, this tool can help improve customer interactions and streamline your business operations.

Here are the top 5 Live Chat Software of 2023:

Tool 1: Zendesk Support Suite Zendesk offers a unified interface for managing customer interactions across multiple channels like email, chat, and social messaging. It’s a powerful tool for businesses of all sizes looking to deliver personalized customer experiences.

Tool 2: LiveAgent LiveAgent’s omnichannel inbox, built-in call center, and customer segmentation tools make it easy for businesses to provide personalized service. This software is a favorite among top brands like BMW and Huawei.

Tool 3: Zoho Desk Zoho Desk allows businesses to handle customer queries through various channels, helping them manage communication efficiently. Its department organization feature is particularly useful for managing high ticket volumes.

Tool 4: Tidio Tidio’s AI-driven chatbots and live chat features help businesses respond to customers faster than ever, turning visitors into paying customers. It’s highly customizable and integrates easily with websites.

Tool 5: Freshdesk Freshdesk is ideal for businesses of all sizes and converts customer inquiries from different channels into a unified ticketing system. It also offers advanced features like AI chatbots and telephony integration, making it a comprehensive solution for customer support.

To wrap up, Live Chat Software is a must-have for businesses that want to improve customer service. By providing real-time support, companies can offer a more personalized experience and drive customer satisfaction to new heights.

[digitalcappuccinosblog]

Using PPC to Drive E-commerce Growth in Canada

E-commerce businesses have to have great strategies to maintain ahead of their rivals and reach their target market in the modern digital environment. One of the most successful approaches for reaching this is PPC marketing. Pay-per- click (PPC) marketing lets businesses show up on relevant websites and search results, therefore creating direct traffic to their online store fronts. Here at Digital Cappuccino Canada, we see how PPC advertising support e-commerce conversion rates and expansion. This article will show how PPC advertisements may transform your e-commerce company and clarify why working with a competent PPC firm will help you reach your objectives. 

Why PPC Marketing is Vital for E-commerce Success

Natural search engine results alone are insufficient in the cutthroat realm of e-commerce. PPC marketing enables e-commerce companies to directly target potential consumers by placing advertisements where they are highly visible, such as Google search, social media platforms, or shopping websites. Particularly when targeting intent-driven consumers who are already looking for the goods or services you provide, this accuracy helps to boost website traffic and raise conversion rates.

Instant Traffic Visibility

PPC gives your e-commerce site rapid exposure, unlike organic SEO techniques, which might show results months away. By bidding on relevant keywords, your site may appear at the top of search results almost immediately. Launching new items, pushing special promotions, or raising brand recognition may all benefit from this instantaneous exposure.

Using PPC marketing around Black Friday, Cyber Monday, or even Canada Day during peak shopping seasons would help Canadian e-commerce companies greatly boost sales. Thanks to a well-organised PPC campaign, your online shop will be more visible during these critical times, generating qualified visitors ready to purchase.

Targeted efforts increased conversion.

One of the main benefits of PPC is its capacity to precisely target your audience. PPC lets you design very focused advertisements depending on demographics, region, search intent, and even certain keywords. and ensuring that the individuals most likely to convert see your ads, this degree of targeting helps to maximise return on investment (ROI) and thus minimise wasted expenditure.

Leading PPC agency in Canada, Digital Cappuccino creates tailored PPC plans for e-commerce companies, emphasising the best-performing keywords and optimising bidding techniques to guarantee you maximise your ad budget.

How a PPC Agency Might Accelerate Online Retail Expansion

Although PPC's fundamentals appear simple, running a successful campaign calls for knowledge, continuous optimisation, and data-driven insights. Engaging with a proficient PPC provider can ensure the success and control of your campaigns. Digital Cappuccino Canada, a PPC firm, can provide the following assistance:

Keyword research and bid management

A good PPC campaign's basis is selecting appropriate keywords. Still, bidding on keywords may be costly—especially in cutthroat sectors like e-commerce. Using cutting-edge analytics and industry insights, we at Digital Cappuccino do extensive keyword research and bid on phrases with the most conversion potential at the lowest cost. Our PPC firm guarantees that, even with premium traffic, your campaigns remain below budget.

A/B Experiment for Campaign Enhancement

Managing successful PPC advertising calls for ongoing testing and optimisation. A PPC agency can find what works best for your e-commerce company by doing A/B tests on ad content, landing pages, and keyword bids. This continuous testing procedure allows you to maximise your campaigns for improved click-through rates (CTR) and increased conversions.

Shopping ads for product visibility

PPC shopping ads—like Google Shopping—are a powerful tool for e-commerce companies showing items to potential consumers. At the top of search results, these advertisements grab viewers eager to buy by showing photos, pricing, and product information. Our PPC firm specialises in configuration shopping. advertising. for best exposure and return on investment, thereby making sure your items stand out in saturated areas.

Remarketing to boost conversion rates

A key component of PPC marketing, remarketing lets you target consumers who have already visited your site but did not make a purchase. Remarketing efforts remind these potential customers of your offerings, motivating them to return and buy. Our PPC agency helps you design successful remarketing ads that re-engage potential consumers and increase general conversions.

Why do Canadian e-commerce companies need to welcome PPC?

The Canadian e-commerce business is fast expanding as mobile shopping and digital transactions become more common. Businesses must, however, make investments in top-notch digital marketing plans if they are to thrive in this packed area. For Canadian e-commerce businesses, PPC marketing provides a quantifiable, scalable, reasonably priced approach to generate visitors and boost revenue.

Working directly with our e-commerce customers, Digital Cappuccino Canada develops focused PPC campaigns that deliver results. We manage all facets of your PPC campaigns, from keyword research to bid administration and conversion monitoring, therefore freeing you to concentrate on expanding your online business.

Final Thoughts

Success in the very competitive e-commerce scene of today depends on making PPC marketing investments. PPC may provide the edge your e-commerce company needs to flourish with quick exposure, focused traffic, and outstanding conversion potential. Working with a seasoned PPC agency like Digital Cappuccino Canada will help you ensure that your campaigns are maximally successful and profitable.

Are you prepared to grow your e-commerce company going forward? To begin implementing customised PPC tactics that drive expansion and sales, contact Digital Cappuccino now.

FAQs

In what ways does PPC marketing differ from more conventional advertising approaches?

PPC marketing gives companies more control over expenditure and quantifiable outcomes by letting them target certain groups and pay only when someone clicks on their ad. Like TV or print commercials, traditional advertising often has a wider audience but less exact monitoring and targeting.

Does PPC marketing make sense for small e-commerce enterprises?

Indeed, PPC marketing is a scalable and adaptable option that allows you to set budgets based on your goals and only pay for real clicks, allowing small e-commerce businesses to be more successful.

When will the results of PPC marketing be visible?

PPC marketing, which typically offers immediate exposure and traffic, enables one to quickly see results. To maximise a campaign, however, usually requires many weeks of testing and tweaks.

For e-commerce, which systems best enable executing PPC campaigns? E-commerce PPC ads find favour on Google Ads, Facebook, Instagram, and Google Shopping. The target audience and the given goods or services will determine the decision.

Are other digital marketing techniques compatible with PPC marketing? PPC marketing may indeed augment email campaigns, social media marketing, and SEO. These techniques used together will increase general exposure, generate more quality visitors, and raise conversion rates.

Under e-commerce, what is a normal PPC marketing budget?

The size of the company, the industry's degree of competition, and campaign objectives all affect PPC spending. While some companies could pay as little as $500 a month, others would commit thousands. To maximise return on investment (ROI), the campaigns should be continuously refined.

How may PPC campaigns raise brand awareness?

Seeing your advertising often aids in brand awareness even if visitors do not click on it. PPC marketing raises awareness of your brand on social media and search engines, thus facilitating memory of it for possible clients when they decide what to buy.