#backrooms level 20

[chilling-seavey]

Who's Sorry Now (aa23)

↳ Timeless: F1 Grid Masterlist

↳ Summary: Prohibition opens up a whole new world of underground speakeasys in the roaring 20s. Alex is the proud owner of the best bootlegged whisky in town. On the downlow, of course.

↳ Title Song: Who's Sorry Now by Isham Jones (1923)

↳ Word Count: 1.5k

↳ A/N: I tried a different style for this one, more of an immersive feel through second person as if spoken to you, the reader, through a narrator. Again, this is not an 'x reader' fic, this is just a different style of guiding you through the story.

↳ Warnings: Illegal alcohol consumption and the consequences that come with that

July 1923

In the early 1920s, in depths of Manhattan, down the city streets clogged with motorcars and bustling pedestrians and nestled inconspicuously between a department store and a bank, you would have found a china shop. The storefront window was lined with sets of hand-crafted dishware, sparkling in the rays of sun that managed to streak between the skyscrapers of the New York skyline. During the day, you would have found this store filled with women looking for a piece for a collection or clueless husbands charging through the aisles like bulls trying to find a replica of a piece of their wife’s set they had broken.

But, after sundown, when the storefront housed a ‘closed’ sign in the window, you had to really know what you were looking for to truly find the heart of this chinashop. If you navigated your way around the back of the building, through the narrow alleyways lined with trash containers and rats, you would have found a black painted door with three words etched crudely into the surface: “The Midnight Shift”.

You had to know the right people under the right pretenses to know how to progress, knowing just how to approach the door and how you had to knock twice, and then three times. At eye level, a narrow opening would slide open, silently indicating you to speak the password in a hushed tone. You had to lean in close so they could hear it, the whisper necessary just in case law enforcement was lingering around the corner. 

Velvet Velocity

Upon your correct utterance of the password, the click of the lock would sound and the door would creak open, revealing to you nothing but darkness inside. Once you stepped inside, it would shut behind you with a firm click, plunging you into the pitch black, lured forward only by the light spilling around a second door at the other end of the short, narrow hallway you found yourself in.

The second door opened easily and as you stepped in, music and warm light spilled over you. Compared to the dull and unassuming exterior of the building, the backrooms of the china shop had been turned into a lively club for its exclusive and trustworthy members, you amongst them. 

The Midnight Shift was always a crowded place at nights, no matter whether it be weeknights or weekends. It would be hard to find a table as you weaved your way through the cramped room of small round tables donning white linens and candles. The haze of smoke dulled the warmth of the lights that hung from the ornate tin ceiling, adding to the elusive ambiance of the modern speakeasy. 

Along the main wall you would find the bar where dozens of unlabeled bottles were lined under the lights in a custom display of shelves and shimmering metal tiles. There, customers would lounge on stools or call their next order to the bustling staff behind the walnut bartop, hoping to be heard over the noise. Everyone was friendly here—staff and patrons—and there was no patience for hostility. Ever since alcohol was deemed illegal, society had to band together.

Behind the bar, you could always find a tall, slender man with raven hair and kind eyes as deep as the earth. He always was found wearing a royal blue suit that seemed to slim him down even more until he looked as though someone had taken a string to the top of his head and stretched him vertically. He would be wiping down glasses or pouring drinks, speaking to each person he came across like they had been friends for years. When he would see you, standing patiently at the bar for your turn, he would nod his head in your direction.

“Well, now, I don’t recall seeing you around here,” he’d offer you a wide, toothy grin, still absentmindedly wiping down the glass in his hand with a tea towel. 

You’d introduce yourself and upon confessing it was your first time at the establishment, the man’s smile would, surprisingly, get bigger. He would introduce himself to you as the owner of The Midnight Shift; Mister Albon. Alex, for those he liked—and he would assure you with an infectious grin that he already liked you. He would tell you how his fine establishment proudly made and served the best bootleg alcohol in south Manhattan and had been for almost the full three years since the prohibition law was passed. 

As Alex often did with newcomers, he would offer you your first drink on the house and he would serve it to you in a ribbed cocktail glass, likely from the china store out front. He would let you explore while he got back to work, welcoming you to find him again if you needed anything. With your glass in hand and a genuine thanks to the kind-hearted owner, you would drift away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. 

Most nights, up on the stage with the band would be a dazzling woman in a short beaded dress, cut hair, and a feather headpiece: the jazz singer. If the patrons of The Midnight Shift didn’t come for the bootleg alcohol, they came for her—the woman clutching the microphone, singing with a perfect pitch that could bring tears to your eyes. Captivating and classy and gorgeous, she was the talk of the club, but everyone knew the jazz singer only answered to Mr. Albon; she was his girl. 

As the patrons of the club danced around you, you could feel your heartbeat falling in time with the music, like the core of New York thrived on its illegal nightlife. Perhaps you shared a dance with a stranger or struck up a conversation with a friendly group around one of the cramped tables. Everyone was welcoming, a real sense of camaraderie. Mister Albon ran his speakeasy with a shining smile from behind the bar, bringing the people of Manhattan together in the darkness of the night to share his perfected hand-crafted alcohol. In a way, The Midnight Shift almost felt like home. 

Suddenly, the sound of the door being kicked off its hinges had the music screeching to a halt and the patrons scattering like rats. Three police officers came barreling in and made a beeline for the bar. Already prepared for this worst-case scenario, Alex slammed his fist against a button on the wall that caused the hand-crafted shelving and countertop of the bar to give way, sending all the bottles of bootleg liquor crashing into the cellar below. 

One of the officers grabbed him and bent him over the bartop to cuff him, announcing loudly, “Alexander Albon, you are under arrest for the illegal production and sales of alcohol.”

Splayed over the counter as the officer fought to click the handcuffs around his wrists, Alex protested loudly, “We had a deal, Ted! We had a deal!”

The officer replied gruffly, “Your payoffs are useless to me since my raise, Albon. You know how much this raid is getting me?”

Alex scowled as he was yanked up from the bar by the back of his suit jacket, the fabric wrinkling under the man’s callused grip.

From the stage, the jazz singer jumped onto the dancefloor and rushed right past you in a fit of hysterics, crying out, “Alex! Alex!” 

The establishment was a riot as patrons swarmed to the exit to avoid arrests while the other two police officers grabbed anyone they could. You watched as the jazz singer tried to cling onto Alex as he was tugged away in cuffs, her desperate hands pulling at his suit jacket and pleading for the law to spare him. 

“I’ll see you real soon, darling,” Alex assured her with hardly a waver in his voice, and she leaned up to take his face in her hands for a kiss. He stumbled over his feet as the officer tugged him roughly towards the door, “Real soon, don’t you fret.”

In a flash, The Midnight Shift was eerily silent with its patrons, staff, and band scattered out into the Manhattan night. Glasses and bottles were broken across the floors and tables and chairs were upturned as if it had been a robbery, the bar shelves empty with the evidence destroyed down below in the cellar. You still stood there holding your half-empty glass that Mr. Albon had poured you.

The jazz singer, still standing, stunned, in the middle of the trashed and empty speakeasy in her beaded dress and tousled headpiece, slowly turned to you. Her emotional eyes took you in—a look up and down. Then, with an accusatory finger pointed in your direction, she seethed, “You. Newcomer. It was you who tipped off the coppers, wasn’t it?”

Well, my, my, dear reader, whether you were a spy or an innocent bystander is no matter to me, but I don’t want to get involved with this now, so I will leave you to fend for yourself. Best of luck. And remember, the first rule to live by in the prohibition is don’t get caught.

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[death-ofpeace-ofmind]

Noah Sebastian(YOU!AU) x Reader: Chapter IV

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, captivity, manipulation, stalking, psychological horror, toxic dynamics, obsession, mental instability, gaslighting

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Banner by: @xmads-omensx

Dividers by: @silent-stories

Taglist: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lil-garbitch @blade-dressed-in-red @fadingintothegrey @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @heyyoplayer @klutzy-kay24 @chey-h @collidewiththesav @supersquirrel1996 @shayeanna-ashlie @xmads-omensx @miwomens @lacy1986 @pipidoll @ami--gami @astronoids @bloody-spades @renegadebirch @miwomens @dontwantthemoney @saythatuwill @runningincircl3s @fallinoutoforbit

Chapter IV: You Were Always Mine

Noah’s POV

Andy doesn’t scream at first.

It’s pride, maybe. Ego. That performative masculinity, the kind that tells him he can get out of anything. But when he wakes up cuffed to the chair, naked lightbulb buzzing overhead, concrete walls sweating cold… reality sets in.

And it devours him.

The box is soundproof. Air-tight, climate-controlled, buried two floors beneath my record store. Most people wouldn’t even know the sub-basement exists. A leftover relic from the building’s previous life as a speakeasy in the ’20s.

Now?

It’s where Andy learns what it feels like to be helpless.

You,” he rasps when I finally speak.

His lips are cracked. Eyes bloodshot. I’ve kept him sedated for the first twenty-four hours. Can’t risk injury. Can’t risk him screaming too soon. But now… it’s time he hears the music.

“You’ve done something unforgivable, Andy,” I say, crouching down to his eye level.

He snarls. “You’re fucking insane.”

“No,” I smile. “I’m focused.”

Two days earlier

You and I share a latte at the corner café you always post about but never tag. I know it’s your safe place, one of the only spots in LA that doesn’t feel like it’s trying to devour you whole. The plants are real, the staff knows your name, and the music’s quiet enough that you can actually think.

You’re telling me about your new song, the one that came to you in the middle of the night after Andy left. You look tired, but you’re smiling.

“He didn’t say goodbye,” you admit, stirring your drink. “Just… left. Like I didn’t matter.”

I lean in just enough. Not too close. Not yet.

“Then maybe he never deserved you.”

You laugh, but there’s no joy in it.

“I don’t think anyone does.”

That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.

Back in the box, Andy’s screaming now.

I’ve shut the lights off. It’s important he learns that noise doesn’t help him. The dark humbles you. It reduces a man to the bones of his own mistakes.

When I flick the switch back on, he’s sweating, shivering.

“Why the fuck are you doing this?” he snarls.

“I’m helping her,” I say calmly.

“She doesn’t need help”

“No. Not from you.”

You and I spend more time together now.

Lunch turns into late-night walks. You bring your guitar to the shop after hours, strum half-finished verses while I alphabetize vinyls and pretend I’m not falling deeper every time you sing. You smile more. Laugh more.

And when you talk about Andy, there’s distance in your voice. Like he’s becoming a memory.

“You ever just… let someone get too close?” you ask me one night, curled up on the couch in the listening nook.

“All the time.”

You nod slowly.

“It’s like… I keep letting people love me the wrong way, hoping it’ll start to feel right.”

I look at you like you’re art.

“Then maybe you need someone who already knows how.”

Andy’s still alive. For now.

I feed him just enough. Keep his strength low. His mind fractured. I play your songs through the speakers, soft, looped, sometimes pitched a little higher just to disorient him.

He screams at them. At your voice.

He doesn’t deserve to hear it.

You come to the shop more often.

“I feel safe here,” you tell me, arms wrapped around yourself like you don’t quite believe it yet.

I believe it enough for both of us.

I make you tea. I tell you your voice is special. I offer to help produce your demo in the little backroom studio I’ve been building. And when your fingers brush mine reaching for a chord sheet?

You don’t pull away.

Andy begs now.

“Please,” he croaks one night as I watch him from the camera feed upstairs. “I’ll disappear. I’ll leave her alone. You don’t have to, please, just let me go.”

But I’ve seen the texts. The late-night voice memos. The way he made you question your worth just to keep you close. That’s not love. That’s control.

And I won’t let him do it again.

We go for a drive.

Somewhere outside the city. You let the wind mess up your hair. I play a mixtape I made just for you, songs you’ve hummed under your breath, artists you once tagged in your stories.

“How do you know all the songs I like?” you laugh.

I grin. “Lucky guesses.”

You rest your head against the window. Quiet. Peaceful.

I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You don’t flinch.

At night, I check on Andy.

He doesn’t scream anymore. Doesn’t speak. Just stares. I sit across from the glass and let him see me, see the man who’s rewriting your story.

He mouths something.

I lean closer.

“She’ll find out,” he hisses. “She’ll hate you.”

But he’s wrong.

Because you’re already slipping away from him.

And toward me.

You sleep on my couch for the first time after a late studio session. I make up a blanket. I offer to sleep downstairs. You shake your head.

“I feel safer when you’re close,” you murmur, half-asleep.

The words replay in my mind for hours.

Safer.

When I’m close.

I don’t sleep. I watch your chest rise and fall. I imagine a life where you never flinch again. Where you write songs from joy, not pain. Where you don’t chase ghosts back to your bed at night.

I’ll build that life for you.

Even if it means burning the old one down.

Andy’s losing it.

He cries more now. Laughs at things that aren’t there. He scratches at the glass like a rat in a trap.

Sometimes I leave him in the dark for twelve hours just to make the light feel like pain when it returns. Sometimes I play recordings of you laughing, real ones, pulled from the videos I’ve archived. The ones you deleted when you thought you were ugly, unworthy, forgettable.

I saved every single one.

I remember you, Y/N.

Even when you tried to forget yourself.

You wake up the next morning and ask if I want to get breakfast.

We eat pancakes in a tiny diner with chipped mugs and endless refills. You tell me a dream you had where your voice was gone and no one noticed.

“I notice,” I say.

You smile, it’s a small smile, but real.

“I’m glad I have you, Noah.”

You always did.

Later that night, I write in my journal. It’s messy. Obsessive. Sacred.

Day 47 since we met.

She’s smiling more. Touching me more. She didn’t mention Andy once today.

She’s remembering who she is.

She’s becoming mine.

And somewhere two floors down, in the quiet dark of his own guilt, Andy sobs himself to sleep.

————————————————————————————

Author’s Note: Hi! I’m back! I ran out of divider space so if this chapter seems jumbled that’s why!

[thatdykepunkslut]

Y'all ever think about how much suffering (both human and non-human) that is required to keep literal TONS of dead flesh piled up on shelves and backrooms of EVERY single grocery store in the US alone?

I tried to find an exact number of grocery stores in the country, it seems like there's roughly 50,000 (I saw mostly 40-60k as the number so conservatively averaging that as 50). Assuming there's maybe 1 ton in the average store (the one I work at has probably more than 5 tons at any given time but it's a fucking massive store so eh, the little boutique grocer downtown probably has only like 500 pounds); that's still

100,000,000 POUNDS OF FLESH.

CIRCULATING EVERY SINGLE WEEK.

5 BILLION POUNDS OF FLESH A YEAR.

oh ok nvm I looked it up, according to the usda,

IT'S ACTUALLY 20 BILLION POUNDS OF JUST DEAD FUCKING COWS.

Do y'all know anything about the process of slaughtering a cow? It's not fucking pleasant for anyone involved; and even if you don't care for the sentient beings getting murdered, slaughter towns ALSO have drastically increased levels of inter-human violence.

I don't even know what else to say, I just have to walk past the giant heaping piles of rotting flesh at work. every. single. shift. and I'm fucking devastated about it. constantly. so y'all get to hear about it.

[ameliahexagon]

Plot:

Once upon a time, the Earth was created, everything was calm, but one day it was replaced by a nightmare due to a new virus called Darkness. Due to frequent wars with it, most of the figures died and became infected, until families came - now groups that stopped the loss of lives and also died from the virus. The infection still worries people, and their heroes will have to go through a lot to stop it...

Notes:

The age of the characters in this AU is more canonical, except for Cirtunda. The thing is that Polina and I started making the story before season 2, so at first we thought that she was 20-22 somewhere and she was Spheer's mother, but we were wrong. Despite the mistake, we left her, let us have differences.

The AU contains not only canon couples, but also canon with OC, among them there is one non-canon! This is not a proship, but our own story, learn to distinguish fan fiction from reality!

The birth of figures occurs with the help of the union of the souls of a couple, after which another soul appears, and from it a baby.

Attention! AU is in the category for people from 13 years old and in some moments from 16! There are murders and their incomplete description, blood, a little religion, violence and cruelty! Romance at the level of kisses, hugs, friendship at the level of hugs (between boys and also girls) and kisses (only on the cheek, forehead and nose, but between girls).

Terra and Void have wives - these are Luna and Midnight, they are each other's sisters. The first appeared from the Universe, and the second from the Dark energy of the Universe. Luna and Midnight also helped their husbands with the creation of the Earth, but they could not make normal animals and nature, which is why they will create the Backrooms in the 11th century. This world will also be connected with glitches and Darkness, figures will get there and among them relatives of the groups. I will show them separately.

The story about the Backrooms, although connected with the AU, will be separate.

The AU is based on canon, has connections with reality and the history of the world, but here it is slightly changed.

Paradise is a separate country bordering Eurasia and Africa. The main languages ​​are English and Russian (the TPC fandom mainly consists of English and Russian people). Beyond the borders of Paradise there is a separate territory with four cities, but this is not a state.

The religion in this AU based on Orthodox Christianity or just Christianity. Terra is here as Jesus Christ and Void as Satan, but Void on the good side.

This story took me almost two hours ... I hope you liked it!:3

(Please, reblog these two posts about AU in order to people could see it)

[porcelanitaa]

˖⏝ִֶָ︶⏝ִֶָ︶ 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄 ˖⏝ִֶָ︶⏝ִֶָ︶

♡ personal ♡

1. Why did you start this blog?

2. Do you have any pets?

3. Do you have any siblings?

4. How tall are you?

5. Describe yourself.

6. What is your dream job?

7. Are you on discord?

8. What's set as your phone's lockscreen?

9. Do you have any nicknames?

10. Tell a story about your childhood

11. Describe your aesthetic.

12. @ your favorite blog (non mutuals)

♡ fandom ♡

13. What is the first fandom you were ever a part of?

14. A show you would recommend to anyone

15. Fandom you're a part of that's the most obscure?

16. Most recent fandom you joined?

17. What fictional character do you relate the most to?

18. What character do you simp for most often?

19. Favorite characters of all time

20. Have you ever written fanfiction?

21. Favourite artwork you've seen?

♡ creepy ♡

22. Favorite creepypasta?

23. Favorite analog horror series?

24. Favorite monster?

25. Do you get scared easily?

26. Favorite weapon?

27. Favorite creepy place?

28. Favorite backroom level?

29. Creepypasta crushes?

30. What do you think of the Creepy House?

31. If you were a horror villain who would you be?

32. Favorite scary movie?

Free Pass! (Ask whatever question you want to know that's not on the list)

[loving-parasite]

Which backrooms level do you think I am? d( ･ω´･+)

hm . id have to say 1957 ("the bridge of bravery")?

the level is on and around an old bridge . the only technology that works on this level are cameras . theres woods underneath the bridge , the woods are entirely black/gray and red color-wise . after around 20 minutes in the level , wanderers start feeling an intense sense of paranoia and worry . its almost always night in this level . its a pretty straightforward level , after 20 minutes a hole somewhere in the forest floor opens , that takes you to another level when fallen/jumped in . the only real hard part about this level is finding the hole after the 2o minutes , and getting over the paranoia that something's following you . assigned this one to you mostly because of the general vibe and atmosphere of the level

[mod-jesse]

Artfight 24 Attacks : pt2. Backrooms Edition (When i ran out of ideas)

Characters + Credits + Backrooms Level under the cut. If the creator isnt tagged look them up on artfight

+ Ralph The Werebeast , Captain-Ziggy

+ Rosalind , DarkneyFactory

+ Ewan Semyonovich , @tiger-ink

+ Vishali Managold , @catoverlord4986

+ Cato , DaniSimp

+ Rodger Dextin , @randy-racc00n

+ Madeleine , @nixotinix , Level 5

+ Bebe , @squeakheart

+ Mr Slick , SkelliDog , Level 4

+ Lavret , @cubicalleaf

+ Hadrian Vega , @casthecorpse , Level 19

+ Wisp , WetGhost , Level 10

+ Keith, Rottweiler , Level 14

+ Anthony Earlynmyer , @nervothys , Level 11

+ Adrius , 11MUSIC , Level 1

+ Bloodlust , @fishy-salmon , Level 3

+ Crybaby , GhoulishlyDollie , Level Fun!

+ Cilo , cica , Level 9

+ Gabriel , NAMAN , Level 2

+ Quil Ny , Nyquil , Level 20

+ Kazimir , RaineyDaze , Level 16

+ Armom Circus , kiirer

+ Kelly Voidwhisper + Morganthe , beebers , Level 34

+ Mace , Agent_Mace , Level 7

+ Sunny Morri , Cadbberry

+ Hiraeth , 1080019u

+ Theo + Charlie Mintz + Charlie & Malachi Allegro , QueerTinkererGrim + Fruitloy + @silkenbow + Inkiel

+ Morrison , @unholyleaf , Level 25

+ Para , seraphim8core , Level 39

+ Hylios , Auviperic , Level 15

[backroomslittlecorpse666]

{Intro post}

{Basic info}

Hiiiiiiiiiieeeee I'm It also know as Graves :3

I'm 19-20

My pronouns are all tho my favs are- it/they/he :)

I'm Panromantic and greysexual!!!!

And I'm genderfluid/pangender (still figuring it out)

My main kins are, Backrooms entity, cryptid, corpse/zombie, and unholy thing/demon, proxy, and werewolf, liminal space kin :D

I'm an artist and my other/main Tumblr is @prettylittlecorpse666

And I'm single :p

{What is this account about?}

I'm still learning about the backrooms, and I plan on going through all the levels and making posts about each one!!!!! This is also a place I will repost other things about the backrooms!!!! As well as my backrooms ocs!!!! This is also a place I'll make content about being a backrooms entity kin/ liminal space kin since there isn't much of those I feel like :3 as well as this is a place to make friends with other kins and just people who like the backrooms/liminal spaces!!!!!

{More info}

And yes this page supports, xenogenders, agere, furrys, kind of all kind, poc, ect!!!!!

I eventually want to make a weirdcore Tumblr page soon where I'll post weirdcore related things as well as a nostalgicore one!!!!! So that's a project for in the future :3

This place is a safe place for all people who are not harmful or racist or sexist or bad in any form!!!!!!

Though I will say this page is not safe for agere because I can see the backroom is being kind of scary for Little's so just be aware of that ok :3

And please remember to spread love and kindness there's not enough of it :3 and I hope you enjoy my page <3 and feel free to ask me anything or talk to me cuz I would love to :3

[wanderfan2000]

Beyond The Nostalgia-Verse Original Soundtrack.

Tracklist:  1: The Final Adventure. 2: The Abandoned Mall.  3: Attack of the Phantomimes.  4: A Room Full of Carousels.  5: The First Carousel.  6: Sneak Attack.  7: Level 1: The Poolrooms.  8: Two Friends and Their Electric Alien.  9: Level 2: The Suburbs.  10: Searching For The Lost Wanderer.  11: A Joyful Reunion.  12: Pika-Napped!  13: Join Our Team, Pikachu.   14: Rescuing Pikachu\The Getaway.  15: No Where To Run, Heroes.  16: What Are All These Terrible Things.  17: Adia VS The Spring.  18: Forever Trapped.  19: Johto Victory Theme.  20: Backrooms Escape.  21: Goodbye, Backrooms. 

[mariacallous]

OAKLAND — A federal grand jury has indicted Oakland’s recalled Mayor Sheng Thao and her partner Andre Jones, sources with direct knowledge of the investigation told this news organization Thursday — a stunning development in a federal public corruption inquiry that touched the highest levels of the East Bay’s political class.

The indictments follow a monthslong federal grand jury inquiry that shook the region’s political circles just months ahead of a recall election targeting the first-term mayor. Thao was booted from office by more than 60% of voters in November.

Reached early Thursday afternoon, Thao’s attorney, Jeff Tsai, said he and his client had not been contacted by the U.S. Attorney’s Office, and they were unaware of any movement in the federal investigation. Jones’ attorney, Walter Riley, said the U.S. Attorney’s Office notified him of the indictment and that Jones planned to turn himself in Friday.

Federal officials said they were planning an announcement of “major law enforcement action” for Friday morning, though the details of that action remained unclear Thursday. The office of the U.S. Attorney for Northern California, Ismail J. Ramsey, did not return a call for comment.

The development came just a day after FBI agents raided the home of another East Bay politician, San Leandro City Councilmember Bryan Azevedo, who, along with Thao, was among several officials who visited Vietnam as part of a trade delegation two years ago.

The original inquiry burst into public view June 20 when agents with the FBI, the Internal Revenue Service and the U.S. Postal Service raided four addresses across the city, including Thao’s home in the Oakland Hills that she shared with Jones, a former City Hall council aide. Also raided were the homes and waterfront business offices of David and Andy Duong, the father-son duo who own and operate the city’s recycling contractor, California Waste Solutions.

The raids sent shockwaves throughout Oakland, leading to revelations of an alleged assassination attempt targeting a suspected FBI informant, alleged backroom election-season dealings and accusations of a sprawling “straw donor” scheme aimed at elevating politicians viewed as favorable to the Duongs and their recycling empire.

Thao has long proclaimed her innocence — declaring in a City Hall news conference days after the raids that “I will not be bullied” while maintaining that “I am confident I will not be charged with a crime, because I am innocent.” Speaking through tears, she stressed the FBI’s investigation was “not about me” while insinuating that the raids were somehow linked to the broader political forces seeking to remove her from office.

The entire situation “wouldn’t have gone down the way it did if I was rich, if I had gone to elite private schools or if I had come from money,” Thao said at the news conference in late June.

The Duongs have also denied wrongdoing — issuing a statement over the summer emphasizing that they were “very surprised” by the FBI’s searches and that they “have not engaged in or committed any illegal activities.” As of Thursday afternoon, there were no reports of indictments or charges against them.

Federal officials initially appeared to cast a wide net — issuing subpoenas to Oakland city attorneys that sought documents related to the former Oakland Army Base, local homelessness initiatives and Evolutionary Homes LLC, an obscure homebuilder partly founded by the Duongs. Also requested were a slew of documents regarding Jones, Thao’s decade-long romantic partner, along with city policies on retaining and destroying documents.

The inquiry later needled its way into the Oakland Police Department, where federal investigators sought OPD internal phone number directories, as well as police reports related to the Duong family and an apparent falling-out with Mario Juarez, who co-founded the housing company with the Duongs.

The Duongs’ involvement appeared to echo another scandal that ensnared a different Bay Area mayor nearly 20 years ago.

Their company — which also provides curbside recycling pickup services in San Jose — played a tangential role in the 2006 indictment of San Jose’s then-mayor, Ron Gonzales, on bribery charges. Prosecutors alleged a conspiracy to help Norcal Waste Systems secure a lucrative trash hauling contract amendment. California Waste Solutions was a subcontractor for Norcal at the time.

A judge later tossed the charges against Gonzalez, citing errors given to the grand jury. CWS later ended up with the San Jose city contract.

Since then, the family’s political maneuverings have come under a harsh spotlight.

In recent years, state campaign finance regulators and Oakland’s ethics watchdog accused the Duong family of orchestrating a yearslong campaign to secretly funnel thousands of dollars to numerous political candidates across the Bay Area, all in violation of campaign finance laws. The politicians whose campaigns allegedly benefitted from the scheme included Thao and former Oakland City councilmembers Rebecca Kaplan, Dan Kalb, Larry Reid and Lynette Gibson McElhaney.

In one instance, the regulators cited an internal email for Thao’s City Council campaign in 2018, detailing how one staffer wanted to request money from the Duongs. The email came a mere week before Thao’s campaign received 14 suspicious donations believed to come from the Duongs and their network of “straw donors,” a regulatory complaint said.

Regulators also claimed Andy Duong sought ties with several other politicians over the years, including California’s now-Attorney General Rob Bonta, who was viewed by the family as an “ally” and someone who would “deliver whatever we ask for.” His political schmoozing included a trip to the Philippines with Bonta — while Duong was under investigation and Bonta was AG — and handshake pictures with a who’s who of local and national politicians, including the last two Democratic U.S. presidents.

In December, a court filing by the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office claimed the Duongs and another city contractor paid hundreds of thousands of dollars around the time of the November 2022 election to Juarez, then a political operative. Their alleged goal: Elect Thao to office and maintain their lucrative contracts with the city.

“These companies have valuable contracts with the city of Oakland, and an interest in the election of then-candidate for mayor, Sheng Thao,” Senior Assistant District Attorney Kwixuan Maloof wrote in the motion. To that end, Maloof added that Juarez was “a conduit for these companies to help the mayor win and preserve and enhance the companies’ access to taxpayer-funded contracts.”

At least some of the $295,000 in payments funded controversial mailers attacking Loren Taylor, Thao’s biggest opponent in the 2022 election, and another mayoral candidate, former Councilman Ignacio De La Fuente, the filing said.

Also alleged was a $7,500 payment to Jones, whose employment history since 2021 has remained a mystery. Thao and Jones met while they worked for former Councilmember Kaplan — he as chief of staff, she as an intern.

Juarez had been a business partner with the Duongs until a bitter falling out in spring 2024 when the Duongs accused Juarez of defrauding them and failing to deliver on their $1 million investment in their housing company, court records show. The dispute led to dueling claims that each side assaulted the other during a May 3 confrontation outside the California Waste Solutions’ headquarters on Embarcadero.

A month later, Juarez’s Fruitvale District home was shot up in what authorities described as a failed assassination attempt. The federal raids happened 11 days later.

Juarez, a two-time Oakland City Council candidate, is believed to have spent much of 2024 cooperating with federal authorities in their public corruption campaign.

[hanafubukki]

Oc infodump alert!

I HATE LILIA

I hate his stupid cute face, I hate the brain rot he gave me, I hate that I made a whole oc because I also hated making him grieve in reincarnated!reader aus

I HATE HIM! THAT STUPID FRUIT BAT

He forced me into being creative again 💔 I don't have time for that, I need to work on my projects but NOOOOO Lilia vanrouge just had to be extra biteable that day

Anyways the oc comes from a world of magic, her specific ability is atom manipulation. She starts experimenting with her ability and taking it to the next level. The next level being time and space manipulation. She miscalculates her formula and puts too much pressure onto the space aspect, landing her into an endless, lifeless, liminal space (like the backrooms without monsters) she survives on scraps that occasionally pop in and by using her manipulation ability to turn junk into food while she explores the area.

She learns that the space she's in acts like a hub, like a neutral void that's connected to all realities and parallel universes. She finds a coffin that looks very comfortable. She decides to sleep in it for a while after fine-tunes her formula, and applying the probability of parallel worlds.

Uh Oh I forgot to mention she's a sleep talker! Spending a long time in a place where you're the only living thing can be very stressful for social beings, good thing she can fixate on her research! Unfortunately she recites the spell that she was concocting while asleep and lands herself in twisted wonderland.

She's in her 20s so she doesn't like being put in as a first year. But she does pick up a thing or two from this alternate world's magic, plus the vice dorm leader is nice to her.

I'm still working it out in my head but eventually she's forced to use her ability and manages to land herself into the area for general Lilia's camp.

He doesn't like her but her ability can lessen the load on his troops (clean water, making it warmer in the night, making food from thin air) so he keeps her around. Eventually he begins to fall for her, and she's not even bothered to hide that she likes him since he's the only familiar face she's seen.

AAAAA Sorry for babbling on but this man who doesn't even exist has ruined my brain

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷💞

“I hate Lilia” me thinks you’re in denial 🫶🫶

Now now Anonie, don’t you know making your own oc/self-insert is the purest form of love? Love for that character and it is also self-love 🥰🥰

Also, you’ve come to me anonie. What did you expect me to say? “Nooo don’t Anonie, don’t do thiissss. Turn back while you still can!!” lolol 🤣🤣

No! I am the enabler! Do it! Make that oc! Put her with Lilia, let them all be happy!!! 🔥🔥🔥🫶🫶🫶

This is me to you right now Anonie:

Mwahahaha 😈😈😈 We have cookies 💞💞💞

Pffttt lmaoo okay okay I’ll stop hahahah

Also I love reincarnation aus, chef kiss, good taste Anonie good taste.

Your oc sounds very cool! I’m laughing at the fact she finds a random coffin and goes, “let me mess with this thing and take a nap.” 🤣🤣

Ohhh so her ability somewhat works in twst 🤔🤔 that makes living in ramshackle dorm easier at least. Can she rearrange Crowley’s mask? Or make everything he eats taste too bitter?? Just as a bit of revenge?? (Kallisto if you’re reading this, shhh no you aren’t 🤣🤣)

Ohhh timey winey stuff too?? Yesss hello my love. Yesss get that tsundere to fall for her. Yessss we adore that in this household 💞💞💞😌😌

I wonder if future Lilia remembered 🤔🤔

No worries Anonie, I enjoyed reading about it. You don’t need to be sorry at all. And you’re in good company, we adore and are swept away by one Lilia Vanrouge in this blog. 😘

Take a plastic seat while we all sit in a circle and tell us about your woes as we share ours 😄🌺💞

Good luck on your projects Anonie! You might need to get a bit of bat repellant to keep him away 😂🌺

[gamerspine]

February 2025 game releases

More info on Gamerspine Behind The Backrooms : Lost Levels - STEAM - 2025/02/02 終わりの鐘が鳴る前に Chapter3 (Before the End Bell Rings Chapter 3) - STEAM - 2025/02/02 How Much Items - Plants - STEAM - 2025/02/03 How Much Items - Tanks - STEAM - 2025/02/03 Macro Data Rafinement Simulator - STEAM - 2025/02/03 Pinchi-Stingi - STEAM - 2025/02/03 Spirit Swap: Lofi Beats to Match-3 To - STEAM - 2025/02/03 Ball Adventure - STEAM - 2025/02/04 Froggies at the Zoo - STEAM - 2025/02/04 Kingdom Come: Deliverance II - STEAM EGS PS5 - 2025/02/04 Urban Shadows Racing™ Tokyo - STEAM - 2025/02/04 Blocks - STEAM - 2025/02/05 Locks - STEAM - 2025/02/05 Looney Landers - STEAM - 2025/02/05 Rift of the NecroDancer - STEAM - 2025/02/05 While Waiting - STEAM - 2025/02/05 Atonement - STEAM - 2025/02/06 Escape Together: Secrets of the Professor - STEAM - 2025/02/06 Keep Driving - STEAM - 2025/02/06 Pelican Harbor - STEAM - 2025/02/06 zu xing - STEAM - 2025/02/06 Astral Throne - STEAM - 2025/02/07 Cats & Critters: A Dungeon Claw-er - STEAM - 2025/02/07 Los Pingheros - STEAM - 2025/02/07 Night Fright - STEAM - 2025/02/07 Unblinking - STEAM - 2025/02/09 Cats and the City: Shanghai - STEAM - 2025/02/10 FriendShapes - STEAM - 2025/02/10 Line of Fire - Pirate Waltz - STEAM - 2025/02/10 COLD VR - STEAM - 2025/02/11 Sid Meier's Civilization® VII - EGS XONE NSW PS5 XS - 2025/02/11 JUMP KING QUEST - STEAM - 2025/02/12 Legacy: Steel & Sorcery - STEAM - 2025/02/12 Urban Myth Dissolution Center - STEAM - 2025/02/12 Dawnfolk - STEAM - 2025/02/13 METAL SUITS - STEAM - 2025/02/13 Slime Heroes - STEAM - 2025/02/13 Youtopia - STEAM - 2025/02/13 Afterlove EP - STEAM - 2025/02/14 Assassin’s Creed Shadows - EGS PS5 Ubisoft Connect - 2025/02/14 Date Everything! - PS5 Microsoft Store NSW - 2025/02/14 Going for Nuts - STEAM - 2025/02/14 Peril in the Pines - STEAM - 2025/02/14 The Legend of Heroes: Trails through Daybreak II - NSW PS4 PS5 STEAM - 2025/02/14 World Tomb Raider IV-VI Remastered - EGS PS4 XS GOG XONE STEAM PS5 - 2025/02/14 寒いから鍋食いたいね女苑ちゃんと！！(It's cold and I want to eat hot pot with Joen!) - STEAM - 2025/02/14 Planet Pioneers - STEAM - 2025/02/17 Avowed - STEAM - 2025/02/18 Lost Records: Bloom & Rage - PS5 XONE STEAM - 2025/02/18 Collect Baby Oil - STEAM - 2025/02/19 Reverse Problem - STEAM - 2025/02/19 BrokenLore: LOW - STEAM - 2025/02/20 Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii - STEAM - 2025/02/20 Iridio: Prologue - STEAM - 2025/02/21 Century of Anticipation - STEAM - 2025/02/26 Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii - XS PS4 PS5 XONE Microsoft Store - 2025/02/27 Monster Hunter Wilds - STEAM - 2025/02/27 PGA TOUR 2K25 - STEAM PS5 - 2025/02/27

[joleneghoul]

I love that the backroom of my work shares a wall with the dominos kitchen because no lie every other day these 19-20 year olds are having The Bear level screaming matches over dominos pizzas

[partyp00per]

"Hello there, wanderer. Welcome to Alpinia, I'm one of those who live here. I assure you, you'll be safe here."

!!OOC!! !!Long post!!

Hi! I'm the mod of this blog, please just call me by "Mod", I go by he/they/it pronouns. Come follow the life of a Partypooper. As the backrooms is different for everyone, I've decided to make this. Not everything will be lore-accurate, and may often take back different statements made prior. All things here are subject to change.

Current backstory: Main Character had treated a wanderer which stumbled into them, though they didn't realize what the wanderer left until the wanderer was long gone.

Tags+color:

#ooc - Out of character.

#Asks and answers - Responding to general asks

#Roleplaying - Roleplaying! "__" when speaking, regular text when not.

Boundaries!

Shipping content: I'm not too thrilled with shippers, but wanderer x partypooper or partypooper x partypooper asks are alright, just nothing sexual.

NSFW asks: General gore is alright, I'll mark it appropriately. Though, no pictures of gore, or any sexual behavior.

Roleplaying: Roleplayers please interact I wanna be cool.

Headcanon insertions: Replying to these will be marked /ooc, and I'll give my honest opinions!

Character Information

Entity 68 "Partypooper" - A well-known humanitarian entity, working to help wanderers who are in trouble. {Entity status: ENDANGERED} We've been studying this entity species for a while. Currently, they have an estimated total population of 200-225. We classify them as high risk for extinction, as they are currently in at war with entity 67, and those infected with SFV. We've classified them as extinct in the past, but we've been proven wrong at that. As of recent, we have figured out their average height is from 6'5" to 6'10", we currently believe they can reach up to 35km/h. From what we've seen from torn hoodies, they wear biker gear underneath their clothing. Usually, this consists of a baggy black hoodie, either loosely fitting "tights" or jeans, and dark sneakers. The mask which identifies them as entities instead of wanderers is bright blue. It seems to have an aura while in the dark, this does not work in Level 6, however, you shouldn't follow anything there that you can see. There's a painted on simple frowning face in black paint, sometimes there are chipping in the paint as well. They have an alliance with entity 3.5; Frowners. It seems as if Partypoopers will visit level Frown on the regular, either for a break or for fun. They are also in an alliance with wanderers, often bringing them to shelters established in levels. However, don't take them as pushovers, they're strong, and often heal broken bones within a few weeks, instead of the normal 3 months. ---

This certain specimen is young-aged, around the age of a 20-year-old wanderer. They are around 6'0, though exact height is unknown, please follow up with M.E.G database to help keep track of them. We're not sure on the gender yet, as Partypoopers don't really have gendered voices. However, this one takes on a Canadian accent, and seems to communicate in French with wanderers, alongside English. The mask they wear has a small smudge of black paint under their left eye. a crack in the lower right side. However, we are not able to get a clear look at their face so far. They wear the usual black hoodie, though what makes them stand out is that their right sleeve, right up to their elbow, is torn off.

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

Sources used, or sources I will use:

(Above is where I'll get maybe 75% of the information, from other guys who like to write about these sillies)

(Can't forget the freewriting wiki, I'll use this a lot.)

(Above headcanons will be sprinkled in, the post is made by beneathh-the-brine, and roboreblogs, as seen in the post!)

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

Updates

Added character description, ooc, tags, and partypooper definition. [2024-05-23, finished at 10:45pmPST]

Added first three sources [2024-05-23, finished at 10:50pmPST]

[free-n-wild]

A few AUs I might start exploring again now that I'm back on my Wild Kratts bs <3

Fishy imposters AU (Luca AU) - Chris & Martin, seamonsters, disguise themselves amongst the humans of a coastal town in America in order to learn more about the land's creatures [Angst level: 15%]

Folklore seekers AU - The crew travel the world in order to locate and research the various beasts of folklore [Angst level: 15-30%]

Beyond reality AU (Backrooms AU) - Chris and Martin fall through reality and find themselves in the isolated, liminal spaces of the backrooms [Angst level: 20-60%]

(Subnautica AU) - Chris & Martin, marine biologists, become stranded in the middle of an extraterrestrial ocean after they lose contact with the crew [Angst level: 30-80%]

(Primeval AU) - The crew have the time of their lives meeting extinct creatures through strange portals, until a crashed portal leaves Chris stranded during the time of the dinosaurs and the others must find a way to bring him back [Angst level: 30-80%]

Green lament AU - After Chris' untimely death, a distraught Martin tracks Zach down and begs him to give his brother back in the form of 'Toodles', the robotic clone Martin recalls from one of their adventures in Africa [Angst level: 100% rip </3]

[betterbooktitles]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Read the rest of the essay here