#or going in a really sketchy elevator with flickering lights

[i-want-to-be-spaghettified]

that moment when you almost get locked in a library overnight

[ethicalelle]

HAZY ENCOUNTERS | CHAPTER ONE

1 | i really hope i don’t sweat away my silk press

ANDREA

I quietly put on my shoes, as the clock on my phone read, 3:47. Not in the afternoon, in the morning. Esmé was sprawled out on the couch, snoring awfully loud after me, she, and Jay stayed up until two last night. Jay was on the floor, mouth open, as he quietly breathed in and out with his lighter intertwined between his fingers. I looked through my bag for a writing utensil and something to write on, until I came across an old TJmaxx receipt and a green highlighter. 

i’ll be back around 10, i’m going to bring breakfast, text me if jay wants some 

-- andrea

I tiptoed to the kitchen and stamped the note onto the fridge with our stray fruit magnet.

Then, I tiptoed to the door and closed the door behind me.

I groaned as I checked the time on my phone again, another five-hour shift at Ulta Beauty awaited me. The endless shelves of makeup and skincare products always made me question if I was just another person in the world of consumers. From nine to five, I always wondered if I was the visitor or the captive animal. Stocking shelves from philosophy body washes to La Roche Posay facial cleansers, all the way to Fenty Beauty gloss bombs. This shift was usually just me, and sometimes Joanna, my manager was there.

Joanna was the textbook definition of lazy. Ever since she was promoted to task associate manager, she slacked off. She stays on her phone most of the time, in the back, and doesn’t really do shit. Yeah, sometimes she cleans the testers, but we all do that.

She only really works when we don’t do anything in return for her not doing anything.

I walked down the hallway of the third floor, and the ambient lighting flickered every few minutes, as I made my way down to the elevator. Acacia Apartment Plaza held three different buildings and Esmé and I were in building C. Building C was nestled in the far right corner of said plaza. The air had an odor of cooking oil, which sometimes added a layer of mustiness. 

This building was the worst out of all the three, as the parking sucked, and the lines were uneven. Lights flickered in the hallway all the time, and it was lowkey sketchy.

Thank the Lord our neighbor across from us was this huge guy, who said if anything happens, he’ll interfere.

Yawning as I rubbed my eyes, unlocked my phone, tapped on Spotify, and played Go Ahead With All That by Chanté Moore. Esmé put me on. I popped my AirPods in both ears, and I tucked my straight red hair behind my ear as it was currently in silk press form, and I clicked the lobby button.

Tomorrow, I have lunch with Elanna, Lucia, and Esmé. Elanna said that Irene might be joining us, and I didn’t mind.

Irene, Elanna, and Lucia’s childhood friend go to a different university. Almost every time I crossed paths with Irene, she was not sober. Either high or drunk. Usually high. Elanna told me that she and Irene met back in freshman year of high school. Lucia on the other hand met Irene through their mothers, as their mothers are incredibly close.

It’s weird being friends with people who already knew each other beforehand. But, at least Elanna and Lucia ignore that fact, but Irene couldn’t care less. We aren’t friends, we don’t talk to each other. We don’t even follow each other on Instagram. I tried connecting with her, but she put no effort into our conversations.

Another thing to add is that she had a girlfriend, well, had one. I forgot her name, but she had electric bright blue hair that contrasted against my fiery red hair, which pretty much made us polar opposites.

I always wondered if she liked me. Irene specifically. Like I said, she put no effort into our conversations, so she probably didn’t. It was weird every time Irene came into my mind, because why do I care so much if someone likes me? There are plenty of people who don’t like me but why does Irene bother me the most?  

┆彡

“Drea?” The voice called out behind me, pulling me from my focused search for toilet paper. I turned to find Elanna.

“Oh, hey,” I acknowledged, my eyes lighting up with recognition. It was weird when I didn’t expect her. I was sweating despite the AC on because I’d been on my feet all day, and that was when I noticed Irene. The black girl who I was pretty sure hated me with an afro and a gold nose piercing, rummaging through Elanna’s bag, “Do you have gum?” Elanna swatted Irene’s hand away from her red tote bag, “Nigga, get away from my belongings.”

Irene rolled her eyes and took out her phone.

“Oo, your hair is even cuter in person,” Elanna hyped me up, referencing to my Instagram story from yesterday. I moved the stray hair out of my face as I currently had my silk press up in a half up half down style with two stray hairs framing my face. 

Walmart was a very unlikely setting for reunions, but there I was. Elanna had two things in her hand, and I took them as some pressed powder and some pads.

Behind Elanna, Irene again caught my attention. Irene wore gray sweatpants with a boxer waistband peeking out, paired with a tight white compression shirt. Her Crocs were littered with jibbitz, and a singular gold banded ring adorned her middle finger.  She had a very intricate tattoo with multiple faces attached to one, and the large spider tattoo looked so good.

I always thought Irene was objectively attractive, but at the time didn’t tell anyone because I was with Liana. Irene turned around, with annoyance lacing her features, and Elanna sniffed her. “Irene, are you fucking high?” Elanna’s groan interrupted my observations, drawing my focus to the interaction between the two.

Irene rolled her eyes and replied, “What? It’s allowed in here.”

Her voice, which was surprisingly deep and raspy, carried a hint of annoyance.

I side-eyed her, knowing that probably wasn’t true. Well, it is Walmart after all.

It went silent before Elanna’s snort broke the silence, “Fucking addict,” she muttered, earning a sharp glare from Irene. “Nigga, talk to me when you get your money up. Broke bitch.”

Irene’s eyes were red, and I also noticed that she had her nails painted black, as she pointed her finger in Elanna’s direction. We were still in the aisle when an older woman walked by us and we exited the aisle.

“Sounds like someone just got her paycheck,” Elanna sighed, prompting a shove from Irene. “Shut up, nigga.”

Irene rolled her eyes as she blew out a gust of smoke, her gaze shifting to me. The woman in the aisle we were just in gave Irene a dirty look, and I sighed, going to where Jaya was standing.

“I need to pee.” She loudly whispered in Elanna’s ear, prompting Elanna to dumbly look at her. “Nigga, find the bathroom then,” giving her a nasty look. Irene scoffed and left to go use the bathroom.

“We gotta go to the post office after this. So, hurry your ass up,” Elanna called out, and Irene continued to walk, ignoring Elanna.

“Why are you going to the post office?” I asked her as we left the aisle, and she looked at her nails, “Shipping something off to a friend.” I hummed in response.

I love Elanna, trust me, but I need to go. I have laundry waiting, along with the comfort of Abbott Elementary reruns and a steaming bowl of noodles. My everything shower loomed tomorrow, a chore I couldn't postpone anymore. Esmé probably ate all the damn noodles anyway.

I really hope I don’t sweat away my silk press.

“Bye, Drea,” Elanna waved, and I turned around noticing Irene next to her now. A sharp smack echoed behind me, and I turned again to see Elanna's hand connecting with Irene's arm. “Nigga, help me with all this stuff,” she demanded.

Irene gasped, rubbing her arm. “All this stuff is like a pound. Please, if you keep talking to that lanky ass white boy your baby will weigh that much.” Elanna grabbed Irene’s hair, “I will fight you.”

“Ow, ow, o—”

first chapters r the worst things to ever write

i went through 3 different drafts and i still don’t like the results

[seeingivy]

something new 

megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

you and megumi take a walk on the roof in the dead of night

read on ao3

- 

You can’t figure out which side to sleep on. You usually sleep on your right, but the hotel window is really big and the light down the street is too bright. You would sleep on my left, but the air conditioner makes your wet hair feel frozen and you’ve exhausted all efforts in trying to turn it off. You would sleep on your back but that reminds me too much of how dead bodies look in coffins. 

You’ve exhausted all efforts to sleep tonight. If you’ve resorted to likening yourself to a dead body, you’re well aware you will not be sleeping tonight. You reach over to your nightstand and swipe the hotel key. 

If you walk around for long enough, you can tire yourself out. Then, you’ll have to go to sleep. Maybe you’ll be so tired you’ll pass out in the hotel lobby on the way back to your room. As you shut the door to the hotel room, you’re confronted by how quiet it is in the hotel hallway. 

The light directly above the room is flickering, the silence palpable. The red carpet looks different than it has in the past two days and the hallway is suddenly longer than it was before. 

You shuffle down the hallway, feeling the need to look over your shoulder to make sure the room I came from is still there. 

You say a prayer to make sure no ghosts follow you. Every ghost story Nobara has told you comes back at this moment. 

As you walk past two doors, you jump at the sound of the toilet flushing. You turn back and count the doors, realizing I’m only three doors down from your own room. This is Itadori, Todo and Megumi’s room. 

maybe you can knock if they’re awake too. maybe todo or itadori can walk with you for a little bit and convince you to be less nervous about tomorrow. 

It’s probably Itadori. Itadori has been your friend since you were in the fourth grade. He peed himself in the second grade when you had to perform for choir because he got so nervous. If anyone is going to have indigestion tonight, it’s him. 

You knock quietly on the door, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear. It feels illegal to break the silence, but you do it anyway. 

You hear an abnormal amount of shuffling behind the door and realize it might be Todo. Todo is deathly afraid of ghosts. When we went to the Capital in the third grade, he refused to sleep all night because he was convinced a ghost moved his things around in the room. It ended up being Nobara looking for his wallet in the dead of night,

As the lock clicks and the door swings open, it’s not Todo and it’s not Itadori. 

“If you’re knocking on my door for help with your apple juice, I’ll throw you out the window myself.” 

Heat rises to your cheeks, equal parts embarrassed and happy that Megumi answered the door. 

“In your dreams, Fushiguro. I heard the toilet flush and figured Itadori was having diarrhea again. Is he awake?” 

As he swings the door open a little more, you peer in and see that Itadori and Todo are dead asleep on top of each other. There are three singles in the room, the third bed still neatly made from the day before. 

“That can’t be comfortable.” 

“That’s what I said, but they insisted. They’ve been sleeping like that since the first night.” 

“At least they can go to sleep.” 

He looks over at you in the dark, the only light shining on you two being the one flickering down the hall. The door is half open now, the eerie feeling gone from the hallway. He squints at you in the dark, like he’s trying to discern something written your my face. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you on your walk.” 

As he locks the door behind him, you walk in silence. The hallway is loud, the sound of your heart pounding destroying any silence that existed before. He reaches the end of the hallway, a chipped white ladder moving up to the roof. 

“No way. We’re not even allowed to go up there.” 

“Yes, we are. There’s literally a patio up there.” 

“This is a sketchy way to get up there, let’s just take the elevator.” 

He rolls his eyes and climbs up without you. You’re standing alone in the hallway, figuring out what to do. The hallway feels scary again, your heart pounding for a different reason now. You give in and climb up the ladder as your rings clink against the metal. 

“Knew you’d give in.” 

“Do you have a mute button?” 

As you reach the patio, the breeze is swinging the yellow umbrellas in the dark. You move to sit on one of the leather couches but Megumi walks all the way over to the ledge of the hotel. He slides his feet over the ledge, his ankles dangling over the edge of the building. You hop on and join him. 

“No protest this time? This is objectively scarier than the ladder inside.” 

“Just…be quiet. I wanted to see the view.” 

There’s a dozen lights glittering over the view of the city. A few of you had been called to exorcize a few curses in the country, at an entirely different pace than what you were used to. This was your first mission fighting alone and the fear was petrifying. The green hills at the ends of the city take up most of the space, a few tiny buildings marking the downtown area. It’s quiet, with one car passing by every few minutes. The city is dead asleep. 

“Move closer, I’m cold.” 

As you shuffle closer to him, your knees knock against each other as the breeze gets stronger. You’re still looking out, but you can tell from the twinge of light down the street that the tops of his ears are pink. His hand makes his way to the top of your hair, patting down the stray hairs moving in the breeze. 

“You should have told me your hair was wet. You’re going to get hypothermia.” 

You feign shock and place the back of your hand on his forehead. 

“Are you feeling okay? Did you get a fatal illness in the five minutes we were sitting here? Who knew you were capable of human empathy?” 

He swats you off and rolls his eyes. He’s laughing. You wait for a bite back. It doesn’t come. It feels weird. There’s usually no absence of talk back from Megumi. Ever since the the first grade when you were suddenly made aware of his presence, it feels like he’s never been quiet since then. Always 

biting back, arguing with you - making his presence aware. But in the dark of night, you’re not sure if he’s even here. You reach and poke into the side of his shoulder, just to make sure I’m not imagining the entire thing. 

“You’re different here, y/n.” 

“Being alone on a roof, hundreds of miles from everyone else we know, with the possibility of death tomorrow will do that to you.” 

He takes a beat, squinting his eyes trying to discern the writing on my face once again. You swear his eyes pinch in concern, but push the thought away all together. 

“Good different, y/n.” 

You don’t respond. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, biting your cheeks to avoid showing him the effect his words have on you. The two of you turn back and look at the hills over the few buildings, the sky turning from dead black to a dark, navy blue.  

- 

The next morning, you trudge to breakfast with your eye bags darker than usual. Your contacts couldn’t be pried into your swollen eyes so you mentally prepare myself for the jokes that will be made at breakfast. 

Some part of you thinks you dreamed the night before. It doesn’t seem like something that would actually happen. Megumi saying you were different, running his hands through your hair? Impossible.

As you reach the buffet, you reach to slide in the seats in between Itadori and Todo, who have clearly had the most restful sleep out of everyone at the table. As they’re all screaming at each other, you look up and see Megumi sitting there, eating (stabbing) a very sad looking stack of pancakes. As we make eye contact, you smile at him. He doesn’t smile back. 

maybe you did dream about what happened last night. 

You reach for the Martinelli’s apple juice bottle at the center of the table and twist the cap open on the first try. 

“Itadori, look! I opened it on the first try. I told you I could do it.” 

He rolls his eyes at you. 

“As if. Megumi opened it before you got here.”��

As everyone gets side tracked into their own conversations again, you look over again. He finally smiles back, the tips of his ears pink once again. 

[diegos-butt]

Electricity Chapter 3

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (Curvy OFC)

Warnings: mention of murder and dark alleys 👀

Wordcount: 3.4k

A/N: I love every single one of you who read this. This might be my fav chapter so far.. let me know what ya think ✌🏼

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

•••

In the days after I met Walter Marshall at the bar, he was suddenly everywhere. On Monday, I had to make a quick stop at the pharmacy, and he did too. On Tuesday, Gia and I went to the nearest coffee shop to grab coffee for our department, and guess what? He was there too with his colleague Liam. It doesn’t end there; on Thursday I went to get some take-out from the Greek restaurant near my house. While I parked my car, he drove away. You’d think we would have spoken to each other one of these times, but we didn’t.

Every time something happened to prevent that. It was suddenly my turn at the pharmacy as we were about to talk. Once I was done, he had left. At the coffee shop it was the other way around. Me and Gia just got our order when he walked in with Liam. I was about to say hi when the barista called them to take their order. Since Gia and I only had 5 minutes of our break left, we had to go back. The last time I saw him, we were both in our cars, making it unable to have a conversation. He did wave though. But honestly, I wanted more. I wanted to have a decent conversation with him.

“You know, you can just go over to the police station and see if he’s there,” Carmen said. It was Friday and more and more people were slowing leaving the office. It had been a long week. There had been two murders, and the murderer had not been caught yet. “Just ask if they got a lead.”

We had been covering these murders for the entire week. Unfortunately, the murderer knew what he was doing because he barely left any evidence. The detectives still had no idea who he could be or what his motive was.

“We could use some more information for our articles,” Gia agreed with her. “I think you should go too.” She and Carmen exchanged a look that meant no good.

“You guys are not going to force me to go down there. If I go there, one of you is coming with me.”

Before they could answer the phone rang. Carmen picked up, nodded a few times and before she hung up, she said: “we will check it out.”

“What was that about?” I asked, but I already knew something was wrong.

“They found another body in an alley across town. Stacy wants us to go there to see if we can get some information,” she said while standing up and putting on her jacket.

“I’ll come with you.” I stood up and grabbed my jacket as well.

“Be careful and call me when you guys are back home! I’m going to finish writing this article and then head home.” Gia said.

“We will. I’ll drive Mel,” Carmen nodded and waved with her car keys.

We stepped out of the car and we saw the crime scene was marked with yellow tape that had ‘do not cross’ on it. The alley was dark and empty except for a few dumpsters. I haven’t been in this city for long, but the few times I drove through this neighbourhood, it didn’t really feel safe.

The thought of being murdered here made me shiver. The murderer dumped her body in a dumpster in the middle of the night and just left her there. I looked around and couldn’t see security cameras. This murderer definitely thought this through.

Carmen and I walked towards a few people that were gathering in front of the alley. The police had arrived long before us, and I recognized a detective from that night in a bar. As we got closer, I spotted another detective whom I recognized immediately. Walter crossed his arms and talked to the other detective.

“Look who is here Mel,” Carmen poked my side. “Talk to him, see if you can figure something out. Like his phone number.” She winked and walked away to talk to some bystanders.

Fuck you Carmen. I walked towards the tape, and at the same time Walter turned around and looked at me. I stared into his blue eyes and yet again I felt a shot of electricity going through my spine. Why does he have this effect on me? I wondered and realized I had stopped walking and were glued to the street. I shook my head and start walking again.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once I was near him.

“Doing my job?” I said surprised. “You are aware I am a crime journalist, right?”

He lifted his eyebrow and sighed. “You shouldn’t be here. We haven’t caught the murderer yet, so it is not safe here,” he stated and wanted to walk away but turned back to me. “Also, I’m well aware you are a journalist. Your friends made that very clear.”

He gave me a small smile and walked away. I was caught a little of guard and looked after him surprised.

“Hey, wait!” I yelled. “I need to ask you some questions!”

He obviously sighed and dropped his head, but stopped walking. I quickly walked towards him and grabbed my notebook and pen out of my bag.

“First of all, are there any leads on the murderer yet? Do you guys have a suspect?” I started asking. “Do you think he murdered those other girls earlier this week?”

“No, no and yes,” he answered.

“Anything else you would like to share than yes or no detective Marshall?” I raised my eyebrow and looked at him. To say he looked irritated, was an understatement.

“No further comment, this is all you’re getting,” he responded while avoiding eye contact.

“Seriously?” I looked at him with puppy eyes.

“Look, we are busy with our investigation. I can’t tell you anything right now. Besides, you shouldn’t even be here. Just go home and let us do our jobs. Okay miss?” he replied while looking at me again. He did look annoyed though. Oh boy, why does he look so good when he’s annoyed? That’s just not fair.

I simply nodded. “It’s miss Williams, Melody Williams by the way.” I fiddled with the notepad and pen in my hand.

“Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going to do my job Miss Williams,” he grinned. He did look less annoyed than a second ago.

As he walked away, I watched his perfectly sculpted ass and thighs. Damn, he is so fine. I looked around to see where Carmen was and spotted her next to some bystanders. She looked at me and signalled that she would be done soon. I looked around and noticed how empty the street was. Just a few sketchy looking apartment buildings, but no stores or anything.

“So, did you get anything from him?” Carmen said as she showed up next to me. “It’s creepy here or is it just me?”

“No, he didn’t give me anything useful and yes, it’s really creepy here. Something is not right,” I said and looked into the alley.

“Really? Not even his phone number? I am greatly disappointed in you.” Carmen looked at me in shock before she laughed. “No, seriously, did he say nothing?”

“He looked pretty annoyed honestly,” I said a little disappointed. “Did the bystanders see anything?”

“No one saw of heard anything suspicious,” Carmen answered.

“Well, the police does suspect the one who did this, also committed the other murders this week.”

“Hmm, but why here? He somehow must have lured that poor girl here. How? Someone must have heard something in that case. I don’t think she would have come willingly into this alley,” Carmen thought out loud. “Wait, someone did hear a car in the middle of the night. It came by, stopped, and drove off not long after.”

“That probably has something to do with this,” I replied. “It is the perfect place to dump something. Empty street, no stores, not many people outside.”

“Sure thing. Also, it creeps me out that there are so many empty buildings here. Overall, there are way too many empty buildings in this town.” She shivered and we noticed the few bystanders who were still there leave. “We should go too. I don’t want to be here for another minute.”

During the weekend I couldn’t stop thinking about the murders that happened that week. It creeped me out that the murderer was still out there. I went over all the details known to the public to see if I could find a connection. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, I couldn’t.

On Monday I discussed the murders with Gia and Carmen. They also had no other insights and we decided to let it go for the day. We were going to wait until the police would release a statement or more information.

The rest of the day went by quickly. Once I got home I felt restless. I didn’t want to sit around and wait. I wanted to help. It sounded stupid, how on earth could a simple journalist like me help the best detectives in town solve a case?

I finished doing the dishes and looked outside. It was 8pm and it was dark outside. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had made another victim. Fuck it, I’m just going down to the police station and see if Walter is there. Maybe I can help somehow.

Before I could change my mind and realize this was the most stupid thing to do, I stepped in my car and drove to the police station. After a 15-minute drive I parked my car in the parking lot in front of the police station. I hesitated to go out for a second. But what if I can help?

I stepped out and walked, no rushed, inside. It was surprisingly empty in the entrance. I noticed the elevators to my right and remembered Gia and Carmen told me that the detectives were on the sixth floor. Suddenly the elevator door opened, I smiled at the guy who came out and stepped inside. Quickly, I pressed the button with 6 on it and the doors closed. Surprisingly easy to get inside a police station but okay.

Once the elevator reached the sixth floor, and the doors opened I noticed how quiet it was. Uncertain I walked further into the hallway, until I heard someone sigh heavily. It sounded like a familiar sigh and I decided to see where it came from.

A light flickered above me. Shit, I still need to watch the last episode of stranger things. I heard someone sigh again, and I noticed it came from a door just a few feet away from me. I looked towards it and saw it was slightly ajar.

Closing the gap between me and the door, I looked inside. Walter sat at the desk, he leaned forward on his elbows, papers spread across underneath. The computer buzzed lightly.

It felt a little creepy, spying on him like this. I wanted to let him know I was there, but as I want to knock on the door, I bumped my elbow against the door.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. Very smooth Mel, very smooth.

“What are you doing here?” He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at me. “And how did you get up here?”

“I wanted to know if there were new developments around the murders. And I got up here surprisingly easy I must say. I basically just walked inside and took the elevator.” I shrugged my shoulders and walked inside his office while taking off my jacket.

“Do you think I’d still be here if we had a breakthrough?” The look in his eyes softened as he yawned.

I looked around his office and my gaze fell on the computer. There were three different profiles from girls on display.

“Are those the girls who got murdered?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you are not supposed to see any of this,” he said with a stern look in his eyes.

“What are you going to do? Stop me? I’d like to see you try,” I said as I walked around the desk and stood next to him. A recognizable scent hung around him. He wore that same musky cologne as the day I met him at the supermarket. I almost closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Focus Mel, now is not the time to fangirl over this man.

As I stood next to him, I couldn’t help but notice how broad he was. He could easily pick me up and toss me around. Oh god, don’t picture that right now or you will not be able to speak ever again.

My gaze shifted from his chest to his face and I saw his blue eyes staring at me. I quickly looked at the screen and started reading the profiles. I stood there a little uncomfortable and looked around for a chair.

“Why don’t you have another chair here? I really have to stand?” I asked once I noticed he had no other chair in his office.

“No chair, no place to sit. Makes people leave faster.” He simply stated and shrugged his shoulders.

Next thing I knew I felt his hand on my hip, and he guided me down to sit on the armrest of his chair. It caught me off guard and I yelped a little.

“You wanted to sit right?” he said while his hand stayed on my hip. I felt the heat coming from it spread throughout my body. He was so close, and it became hard to focus on the screen. I felt his hot breath on my arm, giving me goosebumps. I regained my focus on the screen and noticed they all had last used a dating app.

“This is probably a dumb question, but have you checked the dating profiles of the girls? The last guy they met with has most likely something to do with this.”

“I am a little insulted by this question,” he said with a grin while putting his hand on his heart. His other hand remained on my hip, I felt his fingers dig into my soft skin. “We did obviously, but the last guy they chatted with used fake pictures and we can’t track him.”

“What about the conversations? Nothing suspicious there?” I asked and shimmied a little on the armrest, trying to get up as I started to feel awkward.

“Stay still, and no. The girls were found nowhere near where he wanted to meet them. And there is no connection between any of the places,” he said. “Wait, just read for yourself.”

Before I could comprehend what was happening, he turned around with chair and all to grab some papers from the cupboard behind him. Once he turned back, I was no longer on the armrest but sitting on his lap.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. My behind actually fitted perfect on his lap much to my surprise. “I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly and tried to squirm away.

“Stay,” he simply ordered, and acted like nothing happened.

“I don’t want to hurt-,” I spoke softly before he interrupted me.

“What are you talking about? I said stay.” His fingers dug a little deeper into my skin and I felt my cheeks burning. “Here are the messages between the girls and the guy there were going to meet. Maybe you see something we missed.”

I tried to focus, but feeling his strong chest pressed against my back made that pretty hard. I could smell his cologne even better now. One of his brown curls brushed against my shoulder and I had to fight the urge to not turn around to push it behind his ear.

I focussed on the papers in front of me. I read the messages, around us a comfortable silence. Only the sound of our breaths filled the room.

“You said they were found nowhere near where they were supposed to meet him?” I asked. He nodded in response. “Hang on, this girl was meeting him near my place. He said there’s a new restaurant that just opened, but I am pretty sure there’s nothing there. There are so many empty buildings in that street.”

“You sure? Someone googled it and saw it opened a few days ago,” he said.

“Absolutely. I drove through that street to get here, and there is no restaurant.”

He leaned forward, pressing his chest against me even more. I tensed for a moment. He felt warm, like he’d never get cold. I decided to just enjoy sitting like this with him, since it might never happen again.

He started typing the address into google with one hand. The other hand still remained on my hip. The website for the restaurant popped up and I immediately saw it was fake.

“Well, this is clearly fake,” I chuckled. “Look at the pictures, that is somewhere else. The sunlight does not match the sunlight we have here. Plus, that place is near a lake. Have you seen a lake in this city?”

He looks at me with his eyes wide open. “How can you- never mind. What about the other places?”

As he looked at me, I became aware of how close his face was. I quickly averted my gaze and googled the other places he was supposed to meet the girls. We instantly concluded that they also used a fake website.

“So, what’s next detective?” I asked and look at the clock. It was just past 9.30 pm. Probably too late to do anything right now.

He ran his fingers through his curls and sighed. “I, am going to discuss this with my colleagues tomorrow,” he said with the emphasis on I. “We are probably going to set up some dating accounts on that app. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure that out.”

“Well, if you need help with that you know where to find me,” I smiled. I suddenly felt really tired and realized I hadn’t been sleeping very well lately. I let out a yawn, and he copied me.

“You’re tired. You should go home,” he said after he finished yawning.

“I will go home if you do the same.” I stood up and felt his hand slide away from my hip. I missed the warmth that came from his body immediately.

“Alright, fine,” he groaned. He got up and grabbed his stuff. He walked around his desk and picked up my jacket and held it open for me. I walked towards him and let him help me put it on. His hands rested on my shoulders and I felt his hot breath in my neck. I felt a spark going down my spine and I nearly choke on air.

Focus, now is not the time to faint.

“I should, uh, I should get going,” I stammered. I grabbed my bag and walked out of the door. I looked back at him and I see his eyes quickly moving up. Was he looking at my butt?

He followed me out of his office and together we stepped into the elevator. It slides down smoothly as we stood next to each other in silence. Our hands brushed against each other briefly before the doors opened. We stepped out of the elevator and he waved goodnight to the security guard as we walked outside. That security guard wasn’t there when I got here. Probably the reason I got in so easily.

My car was the only one left in the parking lot. It stood lonely underneath a lamppost.

“Where did you park?” I asked.

“Other side of the building, employees only,” he said. “But I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” I started to protest.

“I’ll walk with you. End of discussion,” he stated sternly. We walked towards my car in silence until I realized I had to ask him a question.

“What’s your phone number?”

He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.

“What if I find another piece of information? I’d like to reach you if so,” I said and feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Right,” he smirked. “I would have given it to you either way.”

After we exchange phone numbers I looked into his eyes. He is just a few inches taller, yet it felt like he towered over me. I felt like I was drowning in the bright blue. But then I let out another yawn and the moment was over.

“You’re tired, go home,” he chuckled. I nodded and unlocked my car. He opened the door and I got in and started the car.

“See you around?” I asked.

“I’ll make sure of that,” he answered. I smiled and he closed my door. I drove away, and waved at him one more time. I can’t wait to see you again.

•••

> chapter four

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae / @klaine-92 / @xxxkatxo / @stxlemate / @oddsnendsfanfics / @amberangel112 / @seriouslygoodlookinggents / @sillyrabbit81 / @pixie88 / @cynic-spirit / @rn7rocks / @daddys-littlewhitegirl / @little-brattyangel / @omgkatinka / @myloveforhenrycavill / @eldarwen333

If you want to be added, just let me know ✨

[jjungkookislife]

I am thinkin of angsty hoho with 101 Jungkook ,3,15

pairing: ceo!jk x assistant!reader

101. CEO/Boss AU

3. “I love you, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

15. “don’t move, they hit your head really hard.”

tw: oc gets hit in the head (and knocked out) with a blunt object, oc is tied up, side character is knocked out after being hit in the head, allusions to illegal activities

You’d been working for your boss, Jungkook, for two years now. You sat outside his office every weekday and the occasional weekend. You did your job incredibly well, and it surprised all your colleagues when you’d made it past your first month, which is when all his other assistants would quit. If they made it that far.

Jungkook admired your work ethic. Plus, he enjoyed looking out of his office to see you at your desk. You were smart, intelligent, and didn’t take crap from anyone, not even him. He liked that! He liked that you stood your ground, but most of all, he liked that you didn’t ask questions about business that didn’t pertain to you.

You weren’t dumb, far from it but you ran on a need to know basis. If you didn’t need to know, then it wasn’t your business. You were aware there was some sketchy business going around the enterprise, but you kept your mouth shut and did your job.

However, you and Jungkook had a secret of your own. Your relationship went beyond boss/employee, it was romantic. It was a secret for now, not wanting the rest of the staff or the board to think you’d earned your position and kept it by sleeping with the boss.  

Jungkook didn’t like keeping it a secret, but if it would make you happy, he’d be cautious in your interactions with you at work and in public. You’d often accompany him to his social events, always looking spectacular on his arm, but that was as far as anyone ever saw the two of you in the public eye.

“I’ve got to leave for a dinner meeting with the Parks. Are you sure you want to stay? We can work on those reports tomorrow,” Jungkook tells you as he lingers by your desk.

“I’m about done. I should finish in thirty minutes. You should go or you’ll be late,” you rush him out toward the elevator and Jungkook drags his feet the whole way.

“Okay, security is in the building and I’ll have one come by every five minutes before they escort you to the car. Call if you need me,” Jungkook kisses the top of your head before getting into the elevator.

Once Jungkook is gone, you return to your desk. You hope to get all your work done so you can go to Jungkook’s place and spend the night. You can’t wait to take a long, hot bath in his tub and relax with a glass of wine until he gets home and ravishes you on his bed.

“Focus,” you chide yourself as you turn to your work, brows furrowing when the lights flicker and then go out.  You groan, hoping your work auto-saved before the lights went out.

Your name is called and you’re relieved to see Michael, the nighttime security guard with his flashlight.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he shines the light around the room.

“Yes, thank you.  What happened?” you ask as you grab your belongings and rise from your seat.

“I’m not sure, I radioed the other guards, but there was no response. I’ve notified Mr. Jeon and am awaiting instructions.

“I wish you hadn’t had done that,” a voice says behind the both of you.  You don’t recognize the man, but shriek when he hits Michael in the back of the head and he falls to the floor.  You stumble backward, terrified and gripping your pepper spray in your hand.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” the man says as he walks closer to you, smiling devilishly as he sees you tremble, your back meeting the wall.

“What do you want?!” you aim your pepper spray and he laughs.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” you ask, truly confused.

“Don’t act stupid. Where does Jeon keep it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you shout, screaming when he takes a step closer before another man comes running down the hall.

You’re screwed, you think.

“She wouldn’t know where he keeps it.  She’s just his assistant,” the second man says, scowling when he looks at you.

“Idiot.  She’s his girlfriend.  I’ve been following her for weeks,” the first man states, your face showing how terrified you are.  You hadn’t even noticed anyone following you, much less for that long.

“Just knock her out and check her desk.  He wouldn’t be stupid enough to keep it in his own office.  We just need that flash drive so we can get the fuck out. That guard called Jeon already and the Parks won’t be able to keep him entertained for long once he knows she’s in trouble.”  

The second man nods, walking over to you, ignoring the pepper spray and knocking it out of your hand, catching you by the waist as you try to escape.  He knocks you out easily with his heavy flashlight and lies you beside the body guard.

When you come to, you’re no longer on the floor.  You groan, grasping your head as you open your eyes slowly.

“Baby!” you turn to see Jungkook beside you on the couch in his office, the lights back on.

“What happened?”

“Don’t move, they hit your head really hard.”  Jungkook informs you.  “The paramedics should be here any second.

“How’s Michael?!” you turn to the doorway.  Jungkook holds your hand, “he’s fine, baby.  He’s being driven to the hospital already.”

A sigh of relief escapes you.

Jungkook holds you tight, mindful of your head, “I’m so sorry.  I promise, I love you, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.  I’m so sorry, baby.”

“What were they looking for?” 

“A flash drive that has all my... associate’s on it.  As if I’d be dumb enough to keep that on me or in my building,” Jungkook scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Do I even want to know?” you ask and Jungkook shakes his head, looking guilty.

“Sir?  The paramedics are here,” Jungkook’s bodyguard announces, stepping aside to let them in.  Jungkook steps to the side, allowing them to have access to you.

You meet his eyes, “we’re not talking about this.”

Jungkook nods, swallowing thickly and looking like a scolded child, “yes ma’am.”

[mithrilwren]

Inside Edge

So, this is all because of @fiovske‘s amazing, incredible Shadowgast figure skater!AU art. It ended up going in a slightly different, slightly angstier direction than I originally intended, but what can you do - the angst finds me, no matter how much I try to run. [On Ao3] [Find the whole series of one-shots in this AU here!]

(cw. vague implications of some sketchy sexual grooming in Caleb’s past)

---

There are procedures to be followed – fans to greet, hands to shake, cameras to nod at politely before the car arrives and Essek is swept away into the night. The others have changed out of their outfits into unfashionable travel clothes, but gauzy strands of black fabric still flutter beneath his purple mantle. He draws the cloak closer around his shoulders, warding off the blast of frigid air against his damp skin as he steps out of the complex and onto the sidewalk.

The reporters adore it, of course, always praising the commitment to his on-ice persona. He is a carefully crafted statuette, never to be cracked, lest the imperfect man beneath be revealed to the public eye. That mystery is all part of the appeal.

(Never mind that the thought of changing in a public venue makes his hands shake. Never mind what lies beneath the thin layers of chiffon and velvet. The illusion is all that matters.)

But then there’s Caleb, waiting out here amidst the rapidly piling snow, his face turned to the sky and ruddy from the same night air that’s chilling Essek to the bone. He never seems to mind the cold, or perhaps he’s accustomed to it, or maybe it’s the ratty coat he wears, patched one too many times to be anything other than thrift store fare, but undoubtedly warmer than Essek’s: built for utility, not show.

Then there’s Caleb, and no matter where they are, no matter how they meet, it seems that all procedures go out the window whenever he appears.

“We meet again,” Essek murmurs, directly below the other man’s ear, and he finds himself disappointed that the startle never comes. People tend to be nervous by him, when he’s dressed like this. Though sequins and spandex might make most look ridiculous, he wears it well, and he knows it. His juniors – and yes, that sounds good to his ears – tend to give him a wide berth. At first, he’d suspected jealousy, but now he believes (hopes) it’s respect. Four times champion, and for someone his age… unheard of. So yes, he is a little disappointed that Caleb doesn’t startle, even if the man is his senior by three years or more-

And then he catches the look on Caleb’s face, in the brief moment before his expression settles back into unaffected disinterest. A brief tenseness in his jaw, a flicker of… something in his eye, too quick to parse. But it lasts only long enough for Essek note the change, before Caleb smoothes out the expression to something more neutral.

“Herr Essek,” he says. “I thought you had already left.”

“My car will be here shortly,” Essek replies, and casts his gaze about. Where is that driver of his, anyway? They’re sheltered by the overhang and a convenient slab of granite masonry – an abstract art installation that he might find garish, if it wasn’t so unexpectedly convenient – but not all the reporters have left the venue yet, though most of the skaters have. Caleb seems to realize this at roughly the same instant as Essek, and he suddenly finds himself dragged around the corner, further out of sight of the building’s entrance.

The air is cold, and Caleb’s hand on his arm is warm, warm-

(And after all, the war is over, at least officially-)

…He should not be having such thoughts.

“If we don’t wish for the media to believe us up to something nefarious, perhaps we shouldn’t hide so often in dark alleys,” Essek says lightly. Caleb barks a laugh, then covers his mouth with his scarf, coughing for real at the sudden intake of frozen breath.

His coat looks warm, but he has no gloves on, Essek realizes. He frowns.

“And where is your car?”

Caleb doesn’t quite look down, but he certainly doesn’t meet Essek’s eyes as he finally resurfaces for air from his lumpy scarf.

“Oh, I think I will walk back to my hotel tonight. Enjoy the stars for a while.”

Essek stares harder at Caleb’s bare hands, the knuckles already chapping from the melted snowflakes that fall upon them both.

From the curb, a horn finally sounds. One beep, then two.

“My car has plenty of room. Let me take you to where you’re staying.”

“…I will be in your debt again.”

Not a refusal, then. That’s progress, in their tentative back and forth – at least, the one Essek has indulged himself to believe they’ve been dancing over the last few months, despite little evidence to support the theory. Still, he figures… he’s young. He’s allowed to indulge a crush, even a hopeless one, so long as he remembers that that’s all it is at the end of the night.

A hopeless crush, nothing more. Yes, he’s allowed that much, at least.

Essek smiles. “No more than you can pay, I’m sure.”

Caleb gestures down over the wrinkled coat. “You are, as always, an optimist.”

The car honks again, and when he looks back to see if Caleb will follow, Essek finds himself disappointed once more, to see Caleb still standing beneath the eaves, unmoved. But after a solid five seconds, he shakes himself, as though to shake the snow from his shoulders, or a spirit from his bones, and hurries to catch up to Essek.

None of the reporters see them, and the windows of the car are tinted, and that is enough for Essek to breathe easy, though Caleb still seems tense as he slides into the backseat at his side.

It’s not that he’s really that concerned about the scandal of the two being seen together. In fact, it might even be seen as some strange demonstration of unity, to the right eyes. The press has been eating that sort of thing up, lately. The ceasefire between the Empire and the Dynasty has gone on long enough it might as well be called ‘peace’, and if the two nations can deign to send athletes to the same events as they did tonight, well then, the world must be ready for some progress.

Evidently, Caleb doesn’t share the same hopefulness, because his body doesn’t relax, even when the heat is blasting full force and a little of the icy quake in his shoulders begins to subside.

“Where to?” the driver asks, and Essek looks at Caleb, who looks at his hands, then bites his lip and says, “The Chalet, on East Willow.” Essek’s eyes narrow.

The Chalet. Not a hotel, then: a hostel. It’s been a long while since he’s stayed in a place like that, but what he recalls – shared dormitories, insecure lockers, group shower facilities, noise till all hours of the night – he wouldn’t be eager to do so again.

Meanwhile, Essek will return to the Lux, where he plans to spend the evening pampering his body in preparation for another sound victory on the morrow. It’s the sort of place Caleb might have stayed, all those years ago, when he was still a junior’s champion and Essek was nothing more than an undiscovered prodigy on the rise. What happened, between then and now, to change his circumstances so greatly? Essek has often wondered. He knows there was some issue with a coach, a long hiatus, and a less-than-triumphant return, and that is the extent of Essek’s intel on the matter. The skating world is rife with gossip, but this is one tale it seems no one wants to tell.

Tomorrow is the second day of competition. Free skate: Caleb’s specialty, and his only chance to redeem himself after his lackluster short program today. Without proper rest, his performance will suffer. What hope will he have of acquiring more sponsorships then? He can’t believe Caleb has even one at the moment, or he wouldn’t be staying in a place like this.

They’re nearly at the turnoff to East Willow – a dingy street, with sporadic streetlights and not much to see beyond the occasional hostel and long-term residence – when Essek puts his hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“The Lux,” he instructs, and Caleb sits up, mildly alarmed as he leans forward between Essek and the driver.

“Bitte,” he says softly, “My stop is first. We’re nearly there.” He gestures out the window, like Essek can’t already see the sorry road where he’s meant to drop Caleb off.

“Do you have anything stored at the Chalet?” Essek asks.

Caleb swallows, then turns his head. “…I don’t.”

“The Lux,” Essek says again, and because the driver is on his payroll, off they go. Caleb sits back at last, no longer protesting, and Essek smiles privately to himself. His competition will be in proper fighting form tomorrow, if he has to buy out the whole hotel to do it.

Caleb even lets him take his bag as they exit the car and step up beneath the glittering lights of the Lux’s lobby, which he counts as a secondary success, especially for someone who was so reluctant to accept even the simple kindness of a car ride on a snowy night. The proprietors know him by now, so much that he barely needs to speak his request before another room key is being handed over. And perhaps it’s best that the exchange is quick, because Caleb grows more agitated by the minute, as he huddles into himself beneath the crystal chandeliers. Essek thinks he looks enchanting in the ethereal light, but his threadbare clothes don’t match the décor, and he can’t blame Caleb for feeling out of place.

Still, he feels himself like a dashing hero as he whisks Caleb off towards the golden elevators. Like a saviour from the movies, in the most romantic, foolish sense – and this is one more fantasy, but parts of it are real. The part where Caleb agreed to accompany him here, out of the cold? Impossibly, real.

Which is why the ice-water crashes down all the harder when the elevator’s doors slide shut and he finally gets a good look at Caleb’s face, and realizes exactly how unhappy of an expression he wears.

No, not unhappy.

Resigned.

“Is this the favour, then?” he murmurs, and that’s all the warning Essek gets before Caleb’s chapped lips are pressed to his throat.

He catches Caleb’s hands, pushing him away as his heart pounds like an anvil in his chest, realizing what just-

What Caleb-

Caleb watches him warily for a moment longer, then pries Essek’s fingers off his own and takes a step back.

“I apologize,” he says, soft accent turned brittle, “if I misjudged your intention.”

Essek puts his hand to his neck, where only a moment again, Caleb was-

The realization of his own presumption chokes him, and he shakes his head quickly. “I should be the one apologizing.” And he should. In hindsight, it’s easy to see how his actions might have been misinterpreted.

But at the same time, to misinterpret those actions, in such a way…

He is suddenly glad, to not have found out more about Caleb’s past, at least not without the other man’s consent. At least not without being told.

Essek pulls the second key card from his pocket and hands it over. Caleb takes it, turning it over between his fingers. “I should have given this to you in the lobby. Forgive me,” he apologizes again. “I had no expectations of this night, other than seeing us both at our best tomorrow. Neither of us frozen, or unrested.”

As Essek waits for his response, a small shudder runs through Caleb’s shoulders, that might be imperceptible to one unaccustomed to monitoring the body for even the slight minutia of posture and poise. But he straightens up as the elevator chime dings, and when he turns to look back at Essek, his body has lost a little of its stiffness. The tension that the judges so often criticize in Caleb’s form fades in inches, like he’s finally let out a long held breath. Essek’s breath is shorter held, but he does the same still, and makes a silent promise that he’ll be more careful from this moment on.

He’s not the only one who wears a costume, and who knows how to artfully hide the cracks beneath.

Caleb raises his hand in a little wave of farewell as he exits the elevator. “Till tomorrow, then.” The corners of his lips turn up on the last word – not quite a smile, but not so much of a frown. An improvement. A step forward, after two back.

It’s still something.

“Tomorrow,” Essek agrees, and the doors slide shut, leaving him alone again.

Tomorrow, he thinks. Tomorrow.

Show me what you’re capable of, Caleb Widogast, at your very best.

[wannabe-bella]

German Invasion!

(Detective AU series)

"Did you hear?" Comes a cheerful voice from the desk opposite the redhead's. With a questioning look, Chloe glances up to the boy.

"Hear what?" She asks while browsing through a case file.

"Beca's returning today," Says Jesse, her movements halting. After a few moments tick by, she shrugs, pretending to act uninterested.

"Whatever."

"And as Beca's future Best Man, I need to arrange a welcome back party-" Jesse's goes to explain but it's quickly cut short by the elevator door dinging and low and behold... the one and only Beca Mitchell steps out before making her way in.

"Well..." He awkwardly trails off, "I guess no welcome back party. So, I'm just gonna have to improvise this bitch." Standing, he climbs onto his chair before screaming an obnoxiously loud,"WELCOME BACK!" making the entire police squad glance at him.

Some grimace.

Some hold their hands to their ears.

And one may have cried before bolting out of the room.

Stopping in her tracks, Beca's grip on her carrier bag falters as her gaze lands on him. Her mouth gaping open a few times before saying anything.

"I could not be more ashamed of you than I am right now." She deadpans before moving over to her desk. Setting her bag beside the computer, she sees that he's still on top of the chair.

"Dude, sit down."

"Oh," He whispers before glancing around to the staring eyes. "Sorry." He apologizes, slowly climbing back into his chair.

Beca's eyes follows his movements and she shakes her head with an amused smile. "You're like an overly excited puppy. I hate it." Her attention then falls back to her desk.

Her empty desk.

"Ugh."

Grabbing her bag, Beca zips the side open before putting a hand through. Reaching around, she finds what she needs and pulling it out, she sets the documents aside as well as a notepad. Booting up the desk computer, she lazily taps at the wooden table as she waits for it to load.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't one Beca Mitchell." Comes the sickly-sweet voice of Chloe Beale.

Beca can only sigh as she glances over towards the girl. She tips her head, "Beale."

"Mitchell," Chloe throws back, standing from her desk. She makes her way over towards the girl and leans on the monitor. "I'm surprised they let you back this early."

Beca's scrunches her face up, "But my 3 months are up-"

"Which is just a travesty-" Chloe interrupts in a sing-song voice, added with a smirk. Trying to act tough, she leans further over the desk, but her arm slips from the monitor, ending with the screen tumbling over.

Beca stares dead ahead wondering why she chose to come back.

"Mitchell!" Suddenly comes from the Captain's office, causing her to glance over – and making Chloe straighten up her posture, as Gail makes an appearance. "In my office." She says, motioning behind her. Her eyes then flicker towards Chloe, who- for lack of better words, looks as though she has a stick shoved up her ass- stands staring ahead. "Beale, fix that mess." Gail gestures towards the, almost broken, monitor.

"Yes, Captain!" Chloe flinches, grabbing at the computer screen so fast that it almost drops out of her butter fingers.

"Sweet Jesus," Beca mumbles on her way towards the office.

20 minutes later...

"Who... are they?" Chloe voices from her desk as two, very tall, very intimidating looking, people enter the station.

There's a dark-haired man, tall, slim, around his early 30's stood next to a very gorgeous blonde. Their eyes lock and the woman sends her a wink.

"Damn..." Jesse whistles as they saunter through the desks towards the Captain's office. Suddenly Beca's scuttering out from the door, almost running into the gorgeous blonde amazon woman. She halts barely before colliding with her, cursing profanities, "Watch it you- oh my god..." Beca's eyes land on the woman's face.

Chloe watches from afar, her jaw slacked. "Is she-"

"Drooling?" Jesse askes from beside her, "I think she might be." He chuckles.

"Pieter," Comes the woman's weirdly attractive voice, oh and with an accent, "Tell ze elf to move."

"Move elf," Pieter says, beckoning her away.

Beca's eyes don't stray from the woman as she struts past, getting a whiff of her intoxicating perfume, before entering the office. But then she gets her grips about her back and makes her descent towards her desk.

Sitting at said desk, her mouth lays open. But it's suddenly closed as a soft hand shuts it for her and glancing up she finds Chloe by her side.

"How is she even human?" Is all Beca asks, dreamily, and for whatever reason leaves a bad taste in the redhead's mouth as she glares down the office doors.

XxX

"What?!" Beca's eyebrows shoot to the top of her head.

"Don't make me repeat that, Mitchell," Chloe spits back, grabbing her beer and taking a sip from it. The pair are sat at the bar in which 3 months ago, had lead them to-

...never mind.

Anyways, Chloe dragged the stubborn brunette here, only getting her to agree by persuading her with free pizza and beer.

She honestly thought Beca would have put up more of a fight.

"So, let me get this straight," Beca takes a gulp from her beer before picking up a slice of pizza, "You brought me here to ask me to be your partner?" She asks, taking a large bite from the slice... very ungracefully I might add.

"Ew," Chloe scrunches her face up as the girl gets tomato sauce on the side of her mouth. "Yes." She then says, her foot tapping along the wooden bar floor. "Look, please, Beca."

Beca rolls her eyes, "Why?"

Shaking her head, Chloe huffs, "Cos' we can't just have two German's come in and... and steal our jobs!" Is what she goes with.

"But they aren't?" Beca tries.

Sighing Chloe slouches back. With one last gulp from her beer, she stands to leave, "Forget it, I'll ask someone els-"

"Wait." Beca says, reaching out for the girl's wrist only to accidentally grab her hand. Pulling Chloe back, "I'll do it," She says before ushering her back to her chair.

"Really?" Chloe asks, her eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas.

Rolling her eyes once again, Beca lets out a small smile, "Yes."

Squealing, Chloe suddenly jumps up from her chair to bring Beca into a bone-crushing hug, almost falling into the girl's lap.

They fail to notice the others in the bar stare over at them.

"Woo!" One screams out, "I think we just got ourselves an engagement!"

And boy does that make the girls pull away.

"Oh, we're not-"

"Shush," Chloe hushes, leaning in to Beca's ear, "This could get us free drinks all night."

"Are you serious, Beale?" Beca exclaims in a whisper. And when she finds Chloe nodding, she gives in. "Fine." When she glances past the redhead, she finds the people in the bar staring at them as they wait for an answer. So, with a sigh, she puts on her best fake smile and-

"She said yes!"

The bar erupts in a fit of cheers and drinks are bought all round for them.

Guess Chloe was right, eh?

XxX

"When you asked me to do this, I thought it was like an actual case..." Beca states as her and Chloe currently, sneak, their way behind a wall to catch a glimpse at the two German's. "Not some spy mission." But then pausing, Beca twists around to face the girl, "Not that I'm complaining."

"That's a first." Chloe pipes back, laughing at Beca's faux hurt look. Shoving her on the shoulder, she tips her head, "Come on, let's keep moving."

"You're so rough, woman-" Beca halts once more, and sighs, "You ever say something in which you immediately wish you could take back?"

"Oh, plenty of times- oh god, move!" Chloe exclaims out of nowhere, her eyes widening as Pieter and- after listening through the hearing devices they're equipped with- Kommissar make their way over to where they're at, or better yet, hiding.

Beca and Chloe decided to follow the German duo after their shift, finding them pulling into a sushi restaurant.

Safe to say, they think something fishy is up. Haha.

Anway, Chloe from the get go had been feeling iffy towards the new pair. And had even scouted out Gail to ask why they were here. Turns out, they were sent over to investigate a case. Now why they needed European soil for that is something beyond her.

Besides... this whole operation, "German Invasion," is totally not because Chloe saw Beca flirting, and by that she means the poor girl getting all worked up, with the blonde goddess of a woman.

Would also like to mention that Beca and Chloe are currently dressed in wigs. Yes, you heard that correctly.

Fucking. Wigs.

Which were Beca's exact words when Chloe threw a pair of dark sunglasses at her along with a black wig.

She honestly looks like she's been summoned by a witch, or is a witch, with the dark veil of hair added with her pale complexion. Whereas Chloe looks- in Beca's opinion, not that she'll ever admit it out loud- freaking hot in a blonde wig.

In a panic, Chloe looks around for where they can go as the German's near them. "Oh, my god, oh my god-" She flails about as Beca looks on hopelessly.

Suddenly an idea sparks in Chloe's head.

As Beca glances over the side of the wall, she's basically face to face with the German's, "Oh fuc-"

Before she can finish, she hears a faint, "Hey babe!" before her head is being tilted to the side and soft lips colliding into hers.

Beca's eyes go wide in shock, but they quickly close over.

"Ugh..." Kommissar tuts, "Filthy Americans..." She scoffs before continuing through a sketchy looking door.

Chloe pushes further into Beca, backing her up against the wall, completely forgetting why they're currently in the position that they're in. But she isn't complaining, considering Beca flips their positions.

But pulling back for air, Chloe bites her lip as her eyes flutter open. And when they do, they widen as she catches a glance over Beca's shoulder.

"What the hell?" She voices, making Beca's eyebrows furrow.

"What's wrong?" The brunette asks, stepping out of the embrace to glance over. "Oh, shit."

Through the glass window of the sketchy looking door, stands both Kommissar and Pieter. Who seem to be stashing their jackets with jewellery.

Diamonds to be exact.

Side note, why out of all places to hide jewellery would someone place it in a damn sushi restaurant? It doesn't make any sense.

"Are they..."

"Committing theft?" Chloe finishes.

"I- I think so." Beca says, still in shock. "We should stop them, right?"

"Right." Chloe says, with a nod. "So, how should we go about this-" Before she can even complete the sentence, Beca bounds away from her, bursting through the door-

"BPD, you're under arrest!"

Later that night...

"Not only did you follow Detective Kommissar and Detective Pieter, while they were on duty, but you also tried to arrest them, is that correct?" Gail asks from her seat in her office as Beca and Chloe stand at the front of the desk, wigs of shame held in their hands.

"In our defence," Beca begins, making the Captain sigh. "We thought they were stealing. Not retrieving..." She shrugs.

"I'm very close to cutting you off, Mitchell." Gail states, catching Beca off guard. She's pissed and the brunette can tell. "You just returned from a suspension and god give me strength if it weren't for you being a somewhat good detective, I would have had you fired long ago."

Beca can only run a hand through her hair. She falls into the chair behind her with a sigh.

Chloe watches with a dejected look as she fiddles with the wig (of shame) in her hand. "It was my fault," She announces catching Beca and Gail's attention. "I asked her to come along. You should be blaming me, not Beca." She says to the Captain who only shakes her head.

"I'm disappointed in you, Detective Beale." Pushing the glasses up on her nose, Gail points to the door, "You're both dismissed. Don't let me see anything like this happening again."

"Holy shit..." Beca sighs once they're out of the office. She glances over to Chloe to find her staring at the ground below. "Hey..." She reaches out to place her hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's okay."

"I shouldn't have made you come along." The redhead says, and it sounds like she's almost in tears.

"You didn't. You asked and I said yes. There's a difference there." Beca says. "How about we go get a drink at the bar? On me."

Nodding, Chloe shrugs, "Okay..." As they're walking out, she suddenly halts. "Beca?" She calls out just as they near the elevator.

"Hmm?"

"You wouldn't have a ring, would you?"

"A ring? Why would you need a ring-" But then Beca's face goes blank. "Oh fuck."

XxX

RAISE YOUR WIGS OF SHAME!

So yeah, I finally updated this and added a new one shot. This one was honestly ridiculous. But then again, this entire series is. Anyways, I hope you all are liking this so far.

P.S. Do you think this is the end for Kommissar and Pieter, or will they return? Hmmmm...

[pixelenchanter]

Old Wounds (Part 6)

Sorry for the delay in posting this and any future parts. Classes have only been in session for two days, and I’m already swamped. I hope I can post more soon. For now, enjoy!

Start  Previous  Next

Trigger Warning: blood

Wilford stumbled as he got up. Chase caught his arm, keeping him from falling. His thoughts were racing. Damien was unconscious. He wasn’t hurt. He couldn’t be hurt. Ollie. He had to check on Ollie.

“Wilford.” There was an edge to Chase’s voice. Will turned to him, distracted. Chase’s hand was bright red. Why was his hand red? Had he been hurt? “Wilford,” Chase said again as Will tried to pull away, “you’re bleeding.”

That snapped Wilford back to reality. The sleeve of his shirt was sliced open, and a large gash ran the length of his forearm. He shook his head. There wasn’t time to worry about that now. “I’ll be fine, Chase, but we need to get the others to the clinic.” He paused for a moment before cursing.

“What’s wrong?” Chase’s eyes were wide.

“The elevator is broken.” Will swore again. “I’ll have to teleport us up.”

Chase shook his head. “No way, man. Marvin’s told me how hard it is to transport even one person, and you’re talking about five!”

“It’s the only option we’ve got,” Will growled. “The elevator’s down, and we can’t carry the three of them up the stairs.” He grabbed the handles on the back of Damien’s chair, wheeling him over to where Ollie lay against the wall.

Chase looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he scooped Jameson into his arms and carried him over. Kneeling down next to Wilford, he asked, “What do I do?”

Will sighed. “Hold on to your friend there and grab my arm.” He placed one hand on Damien, the other on Ollie. When Chase was gripping his arm tightly, he closed his eyes.

They appeared in the clinic with a crack like a gunshot, a cloud of pink smoke swirling around them. Will cursed internally. He was too tired to control the aftereffects of his powers like he normally did.

He stood up. He had to find Doc and Green. They could help. He took a step, and his legs gave out under him. He tried to catch himself on a table, only succeeding in scattering the medical instruments on the floor with a clatter.

“Wilford?” Strong hands grabbed him, lifting him with ease. “You’re injured.”

Will shook his head. “No, help them.” His words were slurred. “I’ll be…fine…” His voice trailed off as he lost consciousness.

Green had not been expecting Wilford to pass out in his arms. He quickly placed him on a bed before turning to the others. When he did, he saw something that sent a jitter through his circuits.

Ollie. His younger brother was on the ground, the light in his chest dim and flickering. Green’s systems froze. His processor wouldn’t function. All he could do was stare at his little brother, unconscious on the floor.

“What the hell was that sound?” Doc’s voice drifted in from another room.

The question triggered Green’s primary objective. His circuits fired. “The noi-oi-oise was caused by Wi-i-i-ilford transporting in.” His voice glitched badly. “There are se-e-e-everal new patients in need of care.”

Doc rushed into the room. “What…oh.” He stopped when he saw them.

Chase locked eyes with the doctor as he lifted Jameson onto one of the beds. One word was explanation enough: “Anti.”

Doc stiffened. He knew how much damage the glitch could cause. Striding over to the wall, he slammed a fist on the intercom button. “Blue, Red,” he said, voice echoing through the building, “get to the clinic now.” He considered ordering the building into lockdown, but decided against it. If Wilford had teleported himself up here, Anti was gone. There was no way Will would ever leave a fight early.

Chase slipped out of the clinic as the androids entered. He didn’t need to be there. He’d only be in the way. He wandered down the hall, thinking through what had happened. Who the hell was this Damien guy? Who had that woman been? What the hell was going on?

He went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face, trying to clear his head. “Get it together, Brody,” he muttered to himself. He raised his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale. Chase sighed about to turn away. Then, he saw it.

In the mirror he saw a shadowy figure lurking behind him. Chase gasped, whipping around to face it. But there was nothing there. He frowned, turning back to the mirror. He watched as the figure reached out a hand, resting it on his shoulder. He stiffened as he felt a chill go down his arm. He looked behind him again, feeling his shoulder. There was no one behind him, no hand touching him.

Chase hurried out of the bathroom. He leaned against a windowsill and tried to think. There was nothing there. It was just a trick, that was all. Just an…illusion. Chase cursed to himself as he pulled out his phone.

The call went through, and a voice identical to his own answered. “Chase? What’s up?

“Marvin, I need you to stop. Pranks are great, but now is really not the best time, ok?”

There was a pause. Then Marvin said, “Chase, what are you talking about?”

Chase sighed. “Listen, man. Normally, I’m down for the whole horror-movie, shadow-in-the-mirror stuff, really. But today has been weird enough already. I don’t need you to make it any weirder.”

Another pause, longer this time. Then, “Chase, what did you see?”

His tone stopped Chase cold. Marvin wasn’t joking around. “I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I was in the bathroom and there was this weird shadow man in the mirror. But when I looked there was nothing there. I thought you were pranking me.”

Marvin’s voice was tight. “I wasn’t. Are you still at the Iplier building?”

The question caught Chase off guard. “Yeah.”

“Ok. I’ll be there soon.”

“Woah, wait a minute, Marv. Why?”

Marvin was deadly serious. “What you just described sounds like a haunting, and you have no idea how to deal with that. So what I need you to do is find another ego, and stick with them. Whatever you do, don’t go off on your own. I’ll be there soon.”

Chase swallowed, fear seeping into him. “Ok.” There was a beep as Marvin ended the call.

Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag List: @justmypuppets @theinvisiblespoon @princessbelix @littleteenblog @iammosias @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @snarkyowl @strings-and-glitches @silver-owl413 @top-of-the-morning-to-ya @immortalpoptart @wolfox76 @thatonegirlwhosobsessedwithspace @ekhoecho @dxmurei

[ghostmaggie]

you can take my best (it’s yours, it was never for me)

for the @tgpsecretsanta​ holiday gift exchange! written for @cheesecake-heartache, based on the prompts “stuck in an elevator” and “the first sentence your soulmate says is tattooed on your arm.” I hope you enjoy it, and happy holidays!!!

Ships: Eleanor/Chidi

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Words: 2k 

Summary: Eleanor Shellstrop almost died. Now she feels guilty for being a dick all the time. 

read on AO3

---

Eleanor Shellstrop almost died.

There had been a dropped bottle of Lonely Gal Margarita Mix For One; a row of runaway shopping carts; a billboard truck hurtling towards her, changing lanes at the last possible second.

And she’s still alive.

She figures it’s impossible to walk away from a near-death experience without being changed at all , but damn it, can’t she trade this stupid dumb guiltiness for two broken legs or a bigass scar on her face?

Because, yeah, she didn’t have a flash of, like, judgment day when those carts hit her, but she did walk away thinking, Wow, what a shitty way to die. And I probably deserve it. I’m kind of a shitty person.

Sitting alone in her apartment after she’s released from the hospital, no friends who care enough to see her--even after she almost died , thanks dickheads--she traces her hand over the words printed on her wrist in stark black.

You are my soulmate .

It would suck if she never got to meet them. It would suck if she wasn’t good enough for them.

Immediately she shoves the thought away. “They’re my fucking soulmate,” she says aloud. “Of course I’m good enough for them.”

But she can’t quite escape that guilty itch at the back of her mind.

---

 There’s no overnight change. That’s not how this shit works, apparently. Eleanor was kind of hoping enough lonely three a.m. Googling about how to be a better person would unearth some magic pill she could buy to make her act better--and more importantly, feel better.

No dice, apparently.

But, like, she’s trying . Mostly. Sometimes. When she thinks about it.

Seriously, she is!

Some dude cut her off on the freeway the other day, and she just honked and yelled at him--she didn’t even give him the finger! And she told a girl that her skirt was tucked into her underwear and only laughed about it a little! Plus she didn’t take any pictures of it. That was big for her. Oh, and she saw a guy drop his wallet and totally gave it back without even thinking about it.

So really, she’s doing great.

This thought is circling in her head as she waits for an elevator up to the third floor of some fancyass office building. She’d--well, she’d quit her job at the sketchy pill company after her accident, around the same time she’d cut her hair short, just above her shoulders, blessedly lighter, not weighing her down so much. So anyway, now she was working at some lameass temp agency. She’s not always as good at the boring lame shit her assignments want her to do as she was at manipulating sick old people, but it makes her feel less itchy.

Ugh. Being good is so boring.

The elevator arrives, finally , and Eleanor saunters inside, immediately checking out her own boobs in the mirrored wall.

She’s startled by a blur of motion as some nerdy looking dude wih bigass glasses and a fuckin’ man purse hurries toward the elevator.

They make eye contact, and the dude looks relieved, sticking out a hand in a hold the elevator, i’m super late and in a huge hurry kind of motion.

But Eleanor hates sharing elevators. And she’s still not a saint. And she’s still pretty much an asshole. So she pushes the door close button.

The door starts to slide shut. Eleanor sends the dude a sorry, bro look, and thinks that’ll be the end of it.

Except before it closes all the way, the dude’s arm is stuck in the way and he’s in the elevator with her.

Oops.

He doesn’t yell at her, or even shoot her a dirty look. He just makes a tight, uncomfortable face, his lips pressed together as he avoids eye contact.

Eleanor feels that stupid twinge of guilt.

But--whatever! He made it in anyway. Boo-freakin’-hoo. He’d’ve done the same thing to me.

The silence stretches.

Awwwkward.

Eleanor decides she’s definitely not going to say anything. This guy clearly lacks the balls to call her out on her dick move, so no harm, no foul, right?

Just as she thinks this, of course, the elevator makes a terrifying screeching noise and lurches to a decisive stop. The big nerd actually stumbles and falls to the floor. Then the lights go out.

“Holy motherfucking shitballs, what do we do?” Eleanor asks.

The dim backup lights flicker to life, illuminating the stricken look on the nerd’s face as he gathers himself to his feet.

Eleanor shifts under the force of his incredulous, unflinching stare.

“ You are my soulmate?” he demands, sounding none too thrilled with the idea.

It takes Eleanor a second to process the question. “ What? ” she demands, half a squawk. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Hands shaking and fumbling, the nerd shoves up the sleeve of his sweater and rolls up the button down underneath. There, across his forearm, are the words Holy motherfucking shitballs what do we do .

Eleanor’s jaw drops. “I...I…”

“Let me see your soulmark,” the guy says, sharp, panicked.

Dumbly, Eleanor holds out her arm. The guy takes it in both his hands, gently, looking closely at the words.

You are my soulmate.

“Oh,” he says.

“Yeah,” Eleanor forces out a laugh. “Not exactly the way I expected you to say that.”

The dude smiles a soft, sad, self-deprecating smile. “I’ll be honest,” he says, dropping her arm and taking a small step back. “I never quite came up with a plausible context for--well--this.” He gestures to his arm before rolling his sleeve back down.

Eleanor tries not to think about the sharp pang that goes through her heart once the soulmark is back out of her sight.

“So,” the guy says. “It seems like we might be stuck. Do you have any signal on your phone?” As he asks, he checks his own. “Looks like a no for me.”

Shaking off her weird reaction to the disappointment she’s sure she saw on his face when he realized she was his soulmate, she gives a cursory glance at her phone. “Nope,” she says, feeling the wall around her bruised heart building itself higher.

If he doesn’t want her as a soulmate, she definitely doesn’t care. She doesn’t need him. She doesn’t need anybody.

The guy is messing with the elevator’s control panel. “Seems like the emergency phone is out, too. Great.” He seems a little panicked again.

Eleanor rolls her eyes, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall.

“The only elevator in a seven-story building is stuck, genius,” she says, biting. “We don’t need to tell anybody. They already know. We just have to wait.”

For a second, the guy seems hurt, but he recovers quickly. “Right,” he says. “Of course.” There’s a beat. “Well,” he pushes on, “If we’re stuck here--not to mention soulmates --we might as well start getting to know each other. I’m Chidi Anagonye.”

She raises both eyebrows. “Eleanor,” she says. “Eleanor Shellstrop.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

He smiles. “You know, like--I’m a professor of moral philosophy. I like museums and French poetry. I was born in Nigeria, raised in Senegal. I’m here in Phoenix teaching Ethics at Arizona State University for the semester.”

Wow. he’s a major nerd. So why does Eleanor find him so oddly cute? Stupid soulmate hormones. She pulls her face into a dismissive almost-scowl.

“I sell fake medicine to sick old people,” she says. “I like binge watching bad reality TV, binge drinking, and not caring about the environment. I’ve never left Arizona, and I never finished college.” She finishes with a sharp, predatory, winning smile.

The guy--Chidi--blinks at her. He looks distinctly uncomfortable.

“It’s--uh--nice to meet you,” he says again.

Eleanor rolls her eyes. “You too, Cheeto.”

 ---

 They have been. In this elevator. For three. Fucking. Hours. Eleanor thinks they might really die here. Honestly, that might be a relief if it’ll get her away from Chidi’s incessant attempts at polite conversation. She blows him off with increasingly nasty replies every time he tries a new topic, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Right up until he explodes.

“Why are you so mean , Eleanor?” he demands. “Can’t you even pretend to be decent? I’m trying to be nice, i’m trying to be your soulmate , so why--”

All of her frustrations bubble up from the bottom of her chest, where she’s been tucking them for hours. Days. Months. Years. “Because I’m not a good person, man!” she snaps, leaping to her feet. “I fucking suck, and I always have, and I always will, so what’s the point of all this trying to be good I’m doing when I’ll never gain approval from my stupid morality professor soulmate anyway?”

There’s another long silence in which Eleanor feels her face burn and Chidi watches her with an inscrutable expression.

Finally, he asks, tone void of judgment, “So, you’ve been trying to be better?”

She blinks, surprised to find tears rising to her eyes.

And somehow it all comes pouring out. Her near-death experience. Her first exposure to real, actual, aching guilt for her effect on other people. How she quit her job. How little she feels like her efforts have any impact. How much she hates thinking about what she owes others and what others owe her, when her own parents and her supposed friends have never been there for her, not really. How she’s never really been there for them, either.

Chidi is a phenomenal listener, keeping his eyes on her, making her feel heard, nodding to acknowledge her but never interrupting. She can’t stop the word vomit, but he doesn’t make her feel foolish or shitty or awful because of it. He just listens.

When she’s finished, they’re sitting across from each other, cross-legged, maybe a little too close together.

After one more silence, Chidi says, “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Eleanor.” His voice is sure.

“You don’t?” she asks, feeling small.

“I think you’re a person who has been in bad situations and who has done bad things.” He pauses. “A lot of bad things. Some alarming, weird, improbable bad things--sorry.” He cuts off at her look. “But you’re trying , Eleanor! You’re trying to do better, because you want to, and that’s incredible! I mean, as a professor of moral ethics--”

“You can help me!” Eleanor says, jumping to her feet again.

“What?” Chidi yelps, taken aback.

“As a professor of moral philosophy, you can teach me how to be good! I mean, isn’t that your job?” Her voice rises a few octaves in her excitement.

“Well--yes--” he says. “But--”

Eleanor groans. “Oh, c’mon, man,” she says. “What are soulmates for besides helping? You can teach me how to be good, and I can teach you--how--how to swear, or, I don’t know, how to do two shots at once, or--” She racks her brain for more options. She’s gotta be good at something besides lying.

“Eleanor,” he says, and she stutters to a stop.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll help you. But--” he adds, as her face lights up and she starts to respond. “It’s not going to be easy. It’ll be rewarding and sometimes fun, but these are difficult concepts that are even more difficult to put into practice.” He gazes seriously at her, like this is something important. Like she’s something important.

Eleanor nods eagerly. “I’m in,” she says. “I want to do it.”

Chidi smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Then...great.”

With a bright grin, Eleanor leans down and kisses him on the cheek, rewarded by his instant blush. “Thanks, Chidi,” she says, and his smile softens.

 ---

 By the time the elevator starts moving again, they’ve gotten into three more shouting matches, called off their deal twice, almost kissed at least once, and laughed so hard Eleanor nearly wet herself.

But hey, that’s soulmates for you.

They leave the elevator holding hands.

[paranormal-teapot]

There’s A Ghost, Loose In The Hospital!

Okay so, this is gonna be my post about GHOSTS IN THE HOSPITAL! Haha no but for real. Also warning, looooooong post. Wow so long.

Basically this comes in two parts, part one is about the OLD hospital that was built in the 1930s as a children's hospital by the former Governor of my state. It was mostly built to serve children with polio, but accepted children with many types of orthopedic ailments. This building was later converted into a veterans home in the 1980s when the children's hospital was moved south to, and I'm giving a big hint about my location here ya'll, Los Cruses.

So ghosts? Yes. The staff at the veterans home, as well as visitors, have heard the pitter patter of little feet running around, and even seen children that were later found to not belong to anyone. The worst and creepiest story I've heard was from a friend of mine from high school.

He told me his mom used to work up at the veterans home. She said that while she was working there she would wipe down tables and when she came back around they would have children's hand prints on them. Now keep in mind that children do probably go up there to visit but she reported this happening even when there hadn't been any visitors, child or otherwise. I think she also worked graveyard, so do with that what you will.

Also the "New" children's hospital in Los Cruses is ALSO supposedly haunted! But I'm not here to talk about other hauntings in my state, just my town thx vry much.

On to our current hospital.

The current hospital was built in the 1950s on the top of a very steep fucking hill. the hospital was originally a 15 bed critical care facility and is now a 25 bed critical care facility w/ physical therapy room, mental health facilities, two clinic areas and an emergency room (recently renovated and expanded!). As well as an upstairs surgery facility.

The building used to host nuns who resided in the area which is now, fittingly, the behavior health area on the second floor. Original stain glass is still 100% intact up there and in what is the old sanctuary. So basically your sitting in old nun rooms when you go to talk to a counselor and your using in a treadmill where 100s of people prayed for the safe recovery of their loved ones. That alone is kind of haunting.

Despite the countless lives that have passed through, and sometimes ended, at the hospital, I've only ever read about the one haunting. The nuns. Though they technically left the hospital years ago, they used to work comforting patients and cooking meals. Supposedly, people sometimes smell the nuns brownies long after the kitchen has closed, and even if no brownies have been made. I can confirm I've never seen brownies in the cafeteria, or smelled them being baked while the kitchen was open. But I've also never smelled the brownies any other time, so if the nuns are around, they know I'm up in the air about ghosts and are currently respecting my space.

After checking up on some sources to confirm the haunting, I've learned that several other things have been reported happening in the hospital. Though please mind the fact that, I have local people I've heard talk about the haunting nuns and their delicious ghost brownies. I have heard of only one of these other haunting, and I think it may be a standard hospital haunting story that you get with most places.

That said, it's said that staff have experienced linen closets opening by themselves. TBH this one sounds implausible. WHY? Even if you are positive you aren't on a slant around here, you probably are. Also most of the doors in the hospital are heavy? Like really solid. Not saying it hasn't happened but its easy to get spooked at a hospital like this one, trust me, I was sitting in a waiting area with other people right there in broad daylight with all the lights on and I still started to have a panic attack!

Another haunting, beds moving up and down all on their own in empty rooms. I have no explanation for this one. TBH a lot of the beds in the hospital are modern, like most if not all. The new ones are easy to move up and down....if you, ya know, have feet or hands that can push on the pedal/lift bar. Spooky.

More people like haunting include shadows that you see out of the corner of your eye, that disappear when you turn to look at them head on. Standard haunty stuff.

And a disembodied baby's cry that happens when a woman is about to give birth. I heard this one but tbh it sounds like something you hear about all the old hospitals. Like standard ghost baby cry's to signal new life. Shrug.

These stories all change depending on what site your looking at too. Like babies just crying for no reason. Ghost babies. And just like all the doors moving when no ones there. Much creepier given what I told ya'll about how heavy some of those doors are. And random electronics going off, pretty normal for a haunted place.

Probably most creepy is that the stories go from nice nun brownie smells to actually SEEING NUNS in the kitchen area. Ugh creepy. Definitely hope that one isn't true.

K so here are my personal feelings about the hospital and junk. These are abstract in some cases because I've never seen or heard anything but I tend to get....kinda feelings about this stuff? That sounds fake as shit and super dumb and sketchy but whatever I can't help it. All I know is that day or night, when I'm in an old part of the hospital, upstairs or down, I feel mega creeped. The nuns actually don't bother me at all, ghost nuns that bake brownies and just chill sound pretty all right in the grand scheme of things.

But as I mentioned I've never seen the nuns and I've also never smelled those delectable brownies. But I've felt kinda like I was being watched in the stairwell that leads from the old nun rooms to the old downstairs nun rooms? Thank god for elevators, I hate all the stairwells in that place tbh.

Day or night the only thing I feel upstairs is either angry (like I'm not angry something else is) and panic. Angry, like ghosts who DON'T want people wandering around disturbing them. It's not really aggressive? Just like, the ghosts of a buncha irritable grandpas is chilling in the upstairs, just let them rest and grumble about the weather hurting their old people joints okay? The panic is hard to place? I've only ever felt it in the waiting area that was once one of the nurses stations, in the east end of the upstairs area. To be fair, this station is right outside the surgery area. But today was the first time I'd ever seen that area or even knew it existed, I was super excited to get pics of it. But also when I think of that area I get very nauseous. There was an area filled with rooms just before the surgery area that was kinda light teal that 100% makes me get a lump in my throat. Not a good area, people def died there? Unpleasantly. The actual surgery room felt way less like, oof, ya know? But that teal area was wow nope.

Nurse station = Panic? Teal area = Worse panic/nausea because PEOPLE DIED AND IT WAS NOT A GOOD TIME, Surgery = Strawberry Milkshake but kinda sinister. Patient rooms=Grumpy grandpop wants to nap just leave him be? Stairwells = I would rather die in a fire than get accosted by stairwell ghosts, or go on the elevators alone.

As for the downstairs.... in the general downstairs area I feel an unpleasant shadow lurking just all over the damn place. If it's night and your walking around it's a super unpleasant feeling and is worse when you have to pass a room that’s door has been left open and that is completely dark. Sometimes florescent lights flicker too. Because light bulbs are not forever and they run an entire hospital so... like it happens....but its creepy.

That's just about it kiddos. That’s the entire haunty mess. I hope you enjoyed this!

[necro-romantic]

sooo i wrote a fan ep of it’s always sunny where the gang gets trapped in dee’s apartment building with a killer but they keep taking themselves out by being dumb bitches before the killer can even find them it’s here if u want to read it 

Title: The Gang Gets Murdered

Characters: Charlie, Dee, Mac, Dennis, Frank

Warnings: Violence, swearing

INT. LATE EVENING, DEE’S APARTMENT

The gang is sitting on various pieces of furniture, all pulled into a semi-circle around the TV. The floor is covered in empty food containers, ripped popcorn bags, and crushed cans of beer. The end credits of “American Psycho” are playing on the TV screen, which dimly lights the dark living room in flickering bursts of illumination.

DENNIS

I’m just saying, I think it’s a little weird that the killer never gets away with it on TV. It’s an art- there’s so much, finesse, skill- serial killers are brilliant, they’re gifted. And they never get away with it- look, I’m not defending murder, I’m not, it’s just weird is all I’m saying. Inaccurate. Frankly, I’d be offended, if I was a serial killer.

CHARLIE

But you’re not, right, so- (he shrugs) it’s like- it

doesn’t really matter.

DENNIS

(Exasperated, one hand on his face, gesturing with the other)

No, I know it doesn’t matter I’m just saying-

MAC scoots across the floor and pops open the DVD player, holding the disc in his hand and glancing back at DENNIS.

MAC

It’s my turn to pick the movie next, right?

DENNIS

(Motioning towards the now black screen)

C’mon man, the credits weren’t even over, what, you didn’t like my pick?

MAC

Little creepy man, too many prostitutes anyways. Boobs all up in- I mean- I like boobs I’m just saying, fake ones are, they’re, ya know-

DENNIS

Creepy? “American Psycho” is a classic, Mac. A classic.

MAC

(Shrugging)

I never saw it before. Can’t be that much of a classic.

DENNIS

That’s because you have shit taste, dude. Shit taste.

DEE

Mm, I’m with Mac on this one. A little creepy. Also I’m pretty sure you got off during that scene with the axe, and I’m just glad I was on the other side of the couch.

DENNIS

Alright, well, you’re a stupid bitch. What about you Frank. You’re with me, right? It’s a classic.

FRANK

Yeah- yeah, sure, I wanna go back to the tits though, (he turns to look at MAC) because a fake tit is still a good tit. I’ll stand by that, feel the same in your hand. Feel real enough to me.

DENNIS

(Groaning)

I don’t know why I bother to share my movies with you when none of you ever never appreciate them, the nuances in dialogue, the filming, the development of- uncultured. You’re all uncultured. Absolutely-

He’s interrupted by a shrill scream from above them.

DENNIS

(Angrily banging on the ceiling with his palm)

Hey! Excuse me! I am talking!

There’s a loud crash and the ceiling crumbles, spilling drywall across the carpet, and dumping a body- along with a shattered chandelier- into the center of the living room.

ALL

Shit.

MAIN TITLES

Title: “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia”

Title: “Episode ?????”

Title: “The Gang Gets Murdered”

FADE IN: INT. STILL DEE’S APARTMENT, MOMENTS LATER

DEE

Is she-

DENNIS

(Interrupting sarcastically and rolling his eyes)

No, she’s just asleep Dee, God, use your head for once you dumb bitch.

DEE

Oh, I’m sorry. This is just a little traumatic, you know.

DENNIS

You’re such a bitch. Like you’ve never seen a dead body before.

DEE

Are you saying you have?

DENNIS

C’mon, we gotta get out of here, the killer’s probably still nearby. I don’t want him catching me near the body.

DEE

Shouldn’t we call the police?

DENNIS

Yeah, Dee, let’s do that. Let’s just get all up in this mess, let’s just, involve ourselves. God, you’re such an amatuer. I’m not getting messed up in another man’s business. (He puts his hands up) I’m out of here. He takes care of the body, I take care of my own shit.

DEE

I live here. My carpet is covered in blood.

DENNIS

You think that asshole’s leaving any evidence here? We’re out for the night, we come back to a scrubbed carpet, fixed ceiling, no sign of body fluids. Free cleaning, Dee. Free cleaning. You think the cops are paying for this damage? Your landlord? You want to pay for a new ceiling, huh?

CHARLIE

I’m with Dennis, I wanna get outta here.

DEE

Fine, fine, we’ll go. Just let me get my purse.

FRANK pulls the door open and stands there stiffly, eyes wide.

CHARLIE

Hey, get outta the way man, what’re you-

FRANK leans in close to CHARLIE’S ear.

FRANK

Charlie.

CHARLIE

Dude- your breath smells like-

FRANK

Charlie he’s out there.

CHARLIE

What the fuck are you-

FRANK

He’s out there.

CHARLIE

Who? The mailman, the fucking pizza guy, I don’t-

FRANK

The killer, Charlie. The killer.

CHARLIE

Aw, shit. Close the door, maybe he won’t come in.

DENNIS

(Aggravated, motioning towards the dead woman lying on the floor)

The body’s in here Charlie, of course he’s coming in here!

CHARLIE

Oh yeah.

DENNIS

How do you know he’s the killer anyways, Frank?

FRANK

Sketchy looking dude.

DENNIS

(Peeking around the corner)

Oh my god he’s black. Are you saying he looks sketchy because he’s black? You can’t say that, Frank.

FRANK

Nah- nah- he’s not sketchy because he’s black, he’s just sketchy and black.

DENNIS

Well, we have no solid evidence it’s him, so I say we just go. We start walking, calm- calm. Bitch was poisoned anyways. Killer could be anywhere in the building.

DEE

Poisoned? How do you know that?

DENNIS

Oh, come on, no sign of physical injury besides the head wound from the chandelier that broke the floor- terrible floors by the way, Dee, I’d complain about that- the cord was in her hand, so she most likely did that herself, accidentally pulled it down on top of her in a panic- bright red blood, and she reeked of almonds. Cyanide.

DEE

Alright, so, sketchy black guy in the hall, sketchy white guy in the room with us- I’m taking my risks with hall guy.

She pushes past the others and out into the hall.

CHARLIE

Yeah, hall guy.

DENNIS

(Only one left in the room, shouting out into the hallway, motioning dramatically)

C’mon guys, plenty of people know- it’s not that weird to- (He lets out a disgruntled noise and let his arms drop back to his side.) Wait for me!

INT. THE HALL. IT’S DIMLY LIT, AND APPEARS ALMOST MENACING

They walk stiffly down the hallway and huddle together in the elevator.

INT. THE ELEVATOR

CHARLIE

Man, why do ya think he killed her?

MAC

(Shrugging)

She was probably being a bitch. I bet she deserved it.

DEE

She was kind of annoying. She tried to talk to me while we were doing laundry, I mean, who does that?

CHARLIE

Yeah, and she always talks real loud in her sleep when I come over, that’s annoying.

DENNIS

Charlie, you do know that’s not what- she’s having sex. She’s having sex Charlie.

CHARLIE

Oh. Yeah that makes a lot more sense I guess.

DEE

Y’know, I wanna talk about the fact that during that awful laundry conversation, she told me her boyfriend’s name was John, but, (she turns to DENNIS) I heard her screaming your name an awful lot.

DENNIS

(Shrugging)

She was hot. Insecure. Her boyfriend really did a number on her self-esteem, made it incredibly easy for me to get whatever I wanted from her. Not an ounce of self respect. Almost too easy, really. Mmm, but she sure knew how to-

DEE

(Visibly disgusted)

Alright- shutting that conversation down. Alright, so she was an annoying, bitchy slut.

CHARLIE

(Looking at the buttons on the elevator pad)

Hey, any of you guys noticed that we aren’t moving down anymore?

MAC

Yeah, I was thinking that. It’s been on “3” for a while now.

FRANK

Aw shit, we pissed off her ghost.

DENNIS

Ghosts aren’t real, Frank.

CHARLIE

Nah, they definitely are, there’s one at our apartment, we call him “Soft Tom”, he knocks shit over, and sometimes you feel him brush against you and he’s real soft and all.

DENNIS

That’s a cat, Charlie. Not a ghost, a cat.

CHARLIE

(Defensively)

Could be a ghost cat.

DENNIS

(Sighing)

Alright, well, whatever the reason, we’re stuck in this elevator. So let’s just remain calm and-

FRANK

C’mon Charlie- let’s climb out through the shaft.

CHARLIE

I don’t know Frank that seems a little-

FRANK

It’ll be just like all your vents Charlie, c’mon.

CHARLIE

(Apprehensive)

Alright, yeah, I guess.

FRANK

Get on my shoulders, yep- right, now, pull me up-

CHARLIE

Dude, you weigh like, a thousand pounds, I can’t-

FRANK

Mac- Mac- hoist me up.

MAC

Shit man, you really are heavy-

FRANK

Alright, alright, I’m up, here Mac, give me your hand and I’ll pull you up.

DENNIS

(Annoyed)

Are you guys idiots? You think you’re gonna make it up the shaft? The elevator’s gonna get fixed, and-

CHARLIE (O.S)

How long’s the shaft?

FRANK (O.S)

Don’t know- shouldn’t have to go too far along the shaft though, just to the next floor.

MAC (O.S)

Can you guys stop saying shaft?

DENNIS

(Exasperated)

And, they’re gone.

DEE

Dumbasses.

DENNIS

I know! God- there’s a corpse in this building and they’re crawling around in the elevator shaft- and they thought hall guy was shady. Amateurs. Goddamn amateurs.

DEE

Mm, see, but the more you say “amateurs”, the shadier you sound.

DENNIS

(Ignoring her)

Oh- and we’re moving again. If those assholes had waited just thirty more seconds they wouldn’t have had to crawl up to the fourth floor.

INT. FIRST FLOOR, RIGHT OUTSIDE THE ELEVATOR

DEE

(Stepping out of the elevator)

Should we wait for them?

DENNIS

Nah- let’s just go.

There’s a cacophony of noise and MAC comes rushing down the stairs, covered in dust and oil.

MAC

Guys- guys! You’ll never guess what we found in the elevator shaft!

FRANK shows up, panting, hunched over.

FRANK

Another dead body!

DENNIS

(Dismissively)

That’s impossible. It never would have fit in-

CHARLIE cuts in, and DENNIS’ jaw visibly tightens.

CHARLIE

Nah- man, it was pretty squished, like- real flat. Probably been there a day or two.

DEE

Great, so we’re dealing with a serial killer.

DENNIS

Well- not technically. Three murders makes a serial killer. Not two, and besides- we don’t even know if it was the same killer.

FRANK

I’m not taking any chances. (He pushes past everyone and walks towards the door.) Can’t run fast as I used to, getting outta this bitch before things get any worse

He tugs on the handles. Then pushes. Nothing happens.

FRANK, (CONT’D)

Alright. Charlie- c’mon, we’re hiding in the broom closet.

Mac grabs the handles and tugs.

MAC

Man- they’re really locked. Bet I could break the glass though.

DENNIS

Don’t-

MAC backs up and runs full force forward, slamming himself against the door. He staggers backwards, slightly stunned, wincing and rubbing his sore shoulder.

MAC

Must be, some kinda real, police grade glass. Otherwise I’d be able to break it.

DENNIS

(Sighs and gently places a hand on MAC’S shoulder)

Alright, well, it looks like we’re stuck here. We stay together, we wait it out. Got it? Someone’s bound to call the police, and we’ll be in the clear.

CHARLIE

(Raises his hand)

Why can’t we call the police again?

DENNIS

(Points at him and raises his brows)

Good question, and- Because I say so, and because I know what I’m doing. Alright- let’s go hide out in the gym locker-room. Plenty of places to hide, plenty of potential weapons if we need them.

FRANK

Nah- I’m sticking with the closet idea, Charlie, you in?

CHARLIE

Sure man, ‘course I am.

DENNIS

Yes- split up! Fine- goddamnit- (He gestures angrily) That’s what every killer wants! (He turns back to the others, exasperated) Are you guys with me?

DEE

(Shrugs)

Yeah, sure, why not.

INT. THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM IN THE GYM

MAC, DENNIS, and DEE are standing near the entrance.

DENNIS

Alright. Mac- you stay near the door, keep guard, Dee- into one of these lockers. I’ll climb up into the rafters and maintain the element of surprise if necessary. Got it?

INT. THE DARK INTERIOR OF A CLOSET IN WHAT’S PRESUMABLY THE BOILER ROOM

CHARLIE is looking out through the slits in the door, lined shadows playing upon his face. He crinkles up his nose.

CHARLIE

Frank what's that smell, did you- shit your pants what the fuck, Frank, aw it stinks in here.

FRANK

Charlie- charlie, get your hand off me it feels like a goddamn ice cube.

CHARLIE

Dude- I’m not touching you.

FRANK

Aw fuck it's another dead one isn't it, goddamnit I knew it. Alright, get in 'is pockets Charlie, we gotta get outta here, but get his cash first, leave the card or the cops’ll get suspicious when they find him.

CHARLIE

(Shoving the wad of cash into his pocket as FRANK pries open the closet door)

Alright- well, now where do we go?

FRANK

(Shrugs)

Might’as well go meet up with the others.

INT. THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM IN THE GYM AGAIN

MAC is gripping the corner of the wall, peering around it.

MAC

Yo- Dennis- someone’s coming.  

He glances up at Dennis, who is perched precariously on a thin piece of wood, white knuckles wrapped around another inch thick piece of the rafters. He is uncomfortable, but trying very hard to look as if he is not.

DENNIS

Yeah? What do they look like?

MAC

(Peeking back around the corner)

Not sure yet.

DEE (O.S, FROM INSIDE THE LOCKER)

Well get back in here, don’t let them see you. If they come in here we’ll deal with them then.

MAC shrugs and obliges, sliding into one of the lockers.

DENNIS

(Quietly)

Alright. When you see them, I want you to scream, and I’ll jump down and surprise them. Then jump out of the lockers and ambush them. Got it?

Before MAC or DEE can agree, FRANK enters the room, and MAC lets out a high pitched scream. DENNIS attempts to make a badass leap down from the rafters, but only succeeds in clumsily falling down and landing on top of FRANK. DEE and MAC race out of the lockers, screaming, and pile on top of CHARLIE as he enters. CHARLIE and FRANK, thinking that the other three are the murderers continue to fight back until they finally realize that they’re just beating each other up. Everything goes quiet for a moment and they all freeze mid-fight.

Cut to:

INT. THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM IN THE GYM, A COUPLE MINUTES LATER  

The gang is sitting in front of the lockers, covered in bruises, scratches, etc. DEE is holding a wet paper-towel over a cut on her forehead. DENNIS is holding up a hand mirror and lamenting over his bruised, swollen left eye. MAC is eating a granola bar and staring vacantly at the wall in front of them. CHARLIE is picking at one of the scratches on his arm. FRANK is bleeding profusely from a large cut on his neck. This doesn’t seem to phase him. The scene is silent for a moment. Finally, DENNIS speaks up.

DENNIS

Well that went poorly.

DEE

Yep.

MAC

Absolutely.

CHARLIE

It was bad.

DENNIS

But you know what- us thinking that each other were the murderers- it got me thinking- what if one of us is the killer?

CHARLIE

Yeah- me and Frank already did that when we were in the closet. But we decided that if it was any of us, it was you.

DEE

Yeah, I agree.

DENNIS

What? Me? Why me?

They shrug.

CHARLIE

You got that- that weird eye thing going on. (He pries open his eyes with his fingers to demonstrate)

DEE

Yeah- yeah. The serial killer eyes. Ever since we were kids.

DENNIS

Oh, screw you guys. If I had done this, I’d have killed all of you assholes first. And besides, I would never be this sloppy. This is just embarrassing. What the- the body in the elevator shaft, the closet- I mean, really, as if those weren’t going to get found. It’s all been done without any- care, any concern for the art.

DEE

See, it’s this kind of weird psycho talk that makes us think you’re the killer.

DENNIS

Shut up, bird.

CHARLIE

Ahhaha she is a bird!

DEE

Oh goddamnit!

CHARLIE, who is sitting beside FRANK, notices that his eyes are closed, and that he didn’t laugh at the bird thing. Strange.

CHARLIE

Frank. Hey- wake up. You missed a funny joke.

FRANK doesn’t respond, and has presumably passed out from blood loss.

DENNIS

Alright, well, we can’t carry him around with us, so. Leave him?

Everyone agrees. They walk out of the locker room but the camera remains focused on FRANK’S unconscious body, slowly zooming in.

Cut to:

INT. A HALLWAY ON THE SECOND FLOOR

DENNIS

Alright, so, our best bet is, again- to stay together. I vote we just keep walking around casually, so if the killer does see us, he won’t know we know, and he’ll leave us alone.

CHARLIE

I don’t know man- we aren’t really sure why he’s killing people. I mean, there hasn’t been any connection that we know of between these people. Maybe he just likes killing.

DENNIS

Oh, so you’re an expert now.

CHARLIE

I just think-

DENNIS

You know what- I don’t care. Get killed all of you, just. Go get killed. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m sticking to the plan. You assholes can do whatever the fuck you want.

He throws his hands up and walks away. MAC, CHARLIE, and DEE walk in the other direction.

MAC

Dude- I think we should just call the police.

CHARLIE

Yeah. I left my phone in Dee’s apartment though.

MAC

Me too. You think we could sneak in and get them?

CHARLIE

Probably.

INT. DEE’S APARTMENT

MAC and CHARLIE are rooting around in the piles of junk on the floor looking for their phones.

MAC

Man, why is this place always such a mess.

DEE

Because you and Dennis trash it all the time.

MAC

You should really keep it cleaner, I mean, don’t you have any feminine- sensibilities or whatever? Isn’t that a thing women do, clean?

DEE

Alright, asshole, I’m going to ignore that. I’m heading to the bathroom. I ate some weird egg salad earlier, and it is not staying down. (She burps as if to prove her point)

MAC

Ew, gross. Did not need to know that. Whatever. Just spray the febreze when you’re done puking or whatever.

MAC and CHARLIE continue tossing trash around, the dead body casually lying in the background. Suddenly a loud crash is heard from the bathroom.

CHARLIE

What was that?

MAC

Sounded like it came from the bathroom.

CHARLIE

You think Dee’s okay?

MAC

How the hell would I know? You wanna check?

MAC keeps looking for their phones. CHARLIE opens up the bathroom door.

CHARLIE

Aw, shit. The toilet seat fell on her head. Dude- dude she’s out cold. Shit.

MAC

Well- I found your phone. You wanna just leave her there till the police come?

CHARLIE

Yeah, I guess. Shit man.

INT. A HALLWAY ON THE FIRST FLOOR

MAC and CHARLIE are leaning against the wall.

CHARLIE

How long until the police come do you think?

MAC

Who knows man, they said like, ten minutes, but like- that’s what the pizza place says and they don’t get here for like, thirty-five.

CHARLIE

Man. Don’t talk about pizza, you’re making me hungry.

MAC

There’s a vending machine on Dee’s floor. You wanna go back up?

CHARLIE

Hell yeah.

INT. A HALLWAY ON THE SECOND FLOOR

A tiny vending machine sits lonesome in a dimly lit cove in the wall. MAC points to it.

MAC

See, right there.

CHARLIE

Aw, sweet.

He begins walking towards it, but before he can get more than a few steps forward, MAC interrupts.

MAC

(Cautiously, voice almost a whisper)

Wait- doesn’t that look like exactly the sort of place a killer would be waiting out? Hang on- let me go check it out, make sure it’s safe, you know.

MAC creeps over towards the machine, trying to be stealthy, but managing to make himself look like a complete ass. He’s about halfway to the machine when he hears a cough from down the hallway and, in a panic, runs towards the window, screaming.

MAC

It’s the killer, save yourself Charlie!

He leaps out the window, glass shattering all across the hallway. CHARLIE runs over to the window and glances down. MAC is unconscious on the ground, legs in a position that legs should never be in.

CHARLIE

AW, shit.

DENNIS, the source of the cough, walks up behind him.

DENNIS

What the hell was that about?

CHARLIE

(Startled)

Shit- goddamnit man- you scared the shit out of both of us.

DENNIS

Apparently.

CHARLIE

You think he’s okay?

DENNIS

(Shrugs)

I’ve seen him recover from worse.

CHARLIE

Aw, phew. Man, he looks bad though.

DENNIS

Nah, he’ll be fine.

CHARLIE walks back over to the vending machine and slips a dollar in.

CHARLIE

It’s just you and me now man. Everyone else is out cold.

DENNIS

What happened to Dee?

CHARLIE

Toilet seat fell on her head.

DENNIS

(Laughs)

That goddamn bitch. Aw. Man, that’s hilarious.

CHARLIE

(Laughing)

Yeah, it was pretty funny.

CHARLIE reaches into the bottom of the vending machine and we see him struggle for a minute before he pulls out what appears to be a human hand.

DENNIS

Is that… a hand?

CHARLIE

Yeah, you know what, I think it is. That’s weird. I’m pretty sure I pressed the button for a bag of chips but-

DENNIS

I bet there’s a whole body in there. Hey, Charlie, reach up in and see if you can pull anything else out.

CHARLIE

Alright.

CHARLIE leans down and starts rooting around in the machine, until he’s all but inside of it. He starts tugging at the severed arm, and the machine starts rocking back and forth.

DENNIS

You should probably be a little more careful. You’re gonna pull the whole thing down.

CHARLIE

Nah man, it’s cool. I almost got it.

That sentence is followed by an immediate crash as the vending machine topples down on top of him. DENNIS sighs.

DENNIS

Just me now. Idiots. Goddamn idiots. (He spins around and raises his voice) Alright! Four murders! I’m impressed. Sloppy, sure, but hey. We’ve all got our own methods. I’m impressed, really, I could never do it. (He begins clapping) Come on out now, game’s over.

A figure in a black mask steps out of the shadows across the hall.

DENNIS

There we go. Yes. Come on over here.

The figure stops right in front of him and takes off the mask, letting her long, brunette hair fall down her back. She smiles at him.

DENNIS

Oh. You’re- a- a woman.

MURDER WOMAN

Absolutely. I’m a woman, and you’re a very handsome man-

She runs her fingers through his hair and leans in, her plump, red lips, inches from his. He-

Mac’s voice suddenly entered the shot,and it began to dissolve, fading to the five of them sitting in Dee’s apartment.

“Now hold on- I was willing to play along with some of that other bullshit, I mean, I never would’ve jumped out the window over a little cough, but this is-”

Dee rolled her eyes. “Look, when you invited everyone to movie night tonight, we were hoping for an actual movie, not one you wrote.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah- the bitch is right for once.”

“It was full of plot holes,” Dee said, shaking her head.

“Totally out of character,” Mac chimed in.

“You know- I didn’t ask for criticism,” Dennis said defensively, holding the script to his chest.

“What’re you gonna do? Kill us?” Dee laughs.

The others join in.

Dennis sits silently, jaw taut, eyes narrowed.

Laughter can still be heard as the screen begins to fade, the camera zooms in on Dennis’ face. “Hip To Be Square” plays.

FADE OUT:

END