#wheeling out trash carts

[artcalledoddities]

YouTube

Can’t you the tube

Standardize the Volume

After how many years

Or is that the Premium

Well I won’t buy

Because Volume

Is not Standardized

[todays-xkcd]

Now that airlines have started adding wheel locks to their drink carts, less than half of flights have one accidentally fall out through the hole.

Typical Seating Chart [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

Typical Airliner Seating Chart [Labeled items of a plane from front to back:]

[Front of plane:] Cowcatcher

[Cockpit (2 seats):] Please only pick these seats if you're a pilot

[First Class section (22 seats):] Main stage Mosh pit Various fancy classes

[Wings (2 x 55 seats):] Some airplane companies waste this space

[Ends of wings (2 x 1 seat):] Lookout

[Propellers (2 x 1 seat):] Passenger has to pedal

[Middle of plane, just behind wings:] Hole for trash

[Left side of plane, behind wings (7 seats):] Sidecar

[Back of plane (24 seats):] Extra middle seats

[Just in front of tail (4 seats):] Bumper car seating

[Tail (1 seat):] Penthouse

[Hanging off of left side of tail (3 seats):] Extra legroom

[Tail (4 seats):] Tail gunners (Must protect plane from pursuers but earn extra miles)

[Separate, smaller plane to the right (14 seats):] Fighter escort

[somewherebetweendisorder]

The Life We Build

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff ?? i think that's it

A/N: originally posted to my old blog (basicallybats). i was originally writing it as an eddie munson fic, but i really wanted it to be jason, so if you notice any typos or mistakes, no you don't. as always, thank you for reading! <3 i do not give permission to copy, repost, or use my work in any way.

~

"We need to go to the grocery store."

Your hands are buried in Jason's hair, thick waves curling around your fingers, soft and smelling faintly of your conditioner.

"Huh? Why?"

He tips his head back, so he can see your face, fingers freezing, a page caught between them. You recognize the book. It's your annotated copy of Pride and Prejudice. A soft smile curls at your lips, something painfully saccharine about the fact he prefers your copy; your thoughts.

"Because we have no food, Jay. Did you use my conditioner again?"

"Yeah."

"I know. I can smell it on you."

He snorts, eyes closing as you continue to massage his scalp, shaking his head lightly. "Then why did you ask?"

"I just wanted you to 'fess up. Now c'mon, we need to get food, for real. There's like, half a jar of peanut butter and a beer."

"Sounds like a decent enough dinner."

You remove your hands from his soft locks, and he whines, sitting up and carefully setting your book on the bed beside him. Jason doesn't want to go, you know that, can see the distaste and boredom brewing in his eyes already, but he will go, for you.

"Fine. Get dressed. Let's go."

You pull on an old, well-worn tee of his, slipping on your shoes and trailing him down the hall. He holds open the front door for you, locks it behind himself, jogs down the stairs to meet you at the passenger side door, swinging it open with a flourish.

The drive to the store is quiet, Jason tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the music on the radio, bobbing his head gently, one hand on your thigh. The smile on your face didn't go unnoticed as he snuck glances at you out of the corner of his eyes.

Gotham is a god-forsaken place. Smog, trash, the highest crime rate in the nation, and a mile-long list of casualties. Jason remembers what it felt like to be back. The whisper of trauma is at the forefront of his mind. The memories, good and bad, all shot through with something unshakeably bitter. Part of him will always love Gotham, just as part of him will always hate it. But you- You are beautiful. The sort of beautiful that frequently had his heart stalling, breath burning in his lungs when he forgot how to breathe at the sight of your sunny smile, and bright eyes. Your personality and laugh, uncensored and genuine.

You are Jason's diamond in the rough. He can't bring himself to hate Gotham quite the way he did before you, but he can't shake the thought that you'll never reach your full potential here. A flower without enough sunlight can't fully bloom. Fuck, everyone knows Gotham is where good things go to die.

As Jason grabs a shopping cart you walk next to him, sliding your arm through his, a sort of camaraderie.

"We should make a casserole this week," you suggest, eyes reading the signs above the aisles, trying to piece together a meal plan in your head.

"What kind of casserole?"

You sigh, distracted, uncertain. "I don't know. Never mind. I've never even made a casserole."

He bumps his hip against yours gently, silently asking for your attention. He waits until you look at him to speak, lips twitching into a soft smile. "We have that cookbook your grandma gave us. And lasagna counts as a casserole. You've made that plenty of times."

"Does it?"

"Sure."

He's bent on reassurance. Jason knows this is new; cooking is hardly your forte. It would be easier to let him do the cooking, but you've been so eager, and you're taking to it really well. He hates the insecurity bubbling in your voice, he wants it gone. At his insistence, you soften, a bit of tension leaving your shoulders as you nod.

"Okay, we can make lasagna. And what else?"

Your gaze catches on the fresh flowers, bright and fragrant, their sweet smell permeating the air. You look at Jason, desperately curious to see if they've caught his attention too, but they haven't. He's looking at a rack of magazines, leather jacket pulled taught across his shoulders, green eyes crinkling in the corners as he squints at the cover of the newest scandal magazine.

"Good God, Dick is on the cover of another fucking tabloid. I thought he-"

It's an odd thought, this sudden need to pick out flowers with your boyfriend. You long to talk about where you should put them, what color would match your sofa and look nicest in front of the window.

"Jason."

It's not the fact you use his name, his birth name, though this is unusual for you. It's always 'baby' or 'Jay' or 'babes'. No, it's the way you say it. Thick and serious, something he hadn't quite heard before, an almost severe expression taking over your pretty features.

"Y/N? Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing, just- Can we get some flowers?" He watches you shake your head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

It's the domesticity of it. A tender, mundane thing catching up to you as those things often do. Something painfully sweet about it, stability your life lacked until Jason. And now? Now going to the grocery store with him was better than anything you did before. Like cooking, like cleaning, like laying in bed all day, face pressed mercilessly into his skin, breathing him in as he reads to you, just because you could. It was an insatiable craving, one you needed fulfilled right now.

"Sure, baby. You wanna pick some out?"

Your nod is almost imperceptible, arm still curled around his, goosebumps creeping along your flesh. He sees. Sees the light in your eyes, knows you need this moment. Jason knows that every day like this erases those brutally lonely hours from before. Minutes marked with blood and grief, a bitter memory. He knows because these moments do the same for him, setting things right he wasn't sure could be fixed.

Fuck, he'll buy all the flowers here if it brings the carefree smile back to your lips. "What kind do you want?"

"I- I'm not sure. Anything. I'll know the right ones when I see 'em."

He peruses the bouquets, at a loss, this is far outside his comfort zone, but if it makes you happy.

Your wonder hurts his heart, wide eyes and shock every time you find new colors squished together, or flowers you haven't seen before. You should have been given flowers all the time. He checks the price of the bunch in his hands and winces. What he wouldn't give to buy you flowers like this every day. Maybe he should, he thinks.

"How about these?"

Your eyes fall on the wild bouquet of rich, wine roses, flowers in full bloom, overlapping each other, fighting for the gaze of the beholder. They're gorgeous, you can feel them without touching the silken petals, velvet. "They're nice."

He sees it on your face, the dismissal, the gentle rejection. The flowers are pretty, too pretty even, gaudy, and suffocating. They're the type of thing that would fit well in Bruce's home, but not yours. Far too formal, far too showy; you want something sweeter.

"They don't match… Anything at home."

"We'd have to pick weeds to match our apartment."

His words come too fast, voice flat, deadpan, shooting for humor, missing, falling by the wayside in a shallow bitterness. He sees the hurt in your expression the instant the words gush past his lips, a geyser of ill-timed distress. Fumbling, rushing forward, trying to make it right, he presses on. "I'm kidding. That was an exaggeration. We make a nice life. It's just we-"

He stops, letting the chatter of other patrons and the store radio fill the silence as he watches tears build in your eyes, shimmering beneath the harsh fluorescents.

"I'm kidding."

You know he wasn't. He meant the words, frustrated with dead-end jobs and your meager incomes, scraping by with just enough. He wanted more for you, more for himself, more of a future. But all you heard was the immediate dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough, it was never enough.

You shove the small cluster of sunflowers you're holding into his chest, plastic wrapping crinkling, flowers smushed against his chest with the severity of your action.

"I need to use the restroom. You can put these back. I'll meet you at the checkout."

"Baby I- Y/N!"

You run. There's not enough care in your bones to think about how odd it is for a grown woman to be running through the store, stumbling into the restroom, tears already tracking down her face.

Hands braced against the cool countertop, you stare at the water droplets scattered across the laminate from whoever last washed their hands. It's a fascinating pattern, water catching the light. A tear falls, splatters on the surface, and shines too. How pathetic are you that you're hiding in here, waiting for the onslaught of emotion to pass before you can face your boyfriend again? Before you can face his disdain?

Minutes drag by, the tears slowing and finally stopping. Red eyes stare back at you, bloodshot and hollow. With a harsh tug, you turn on the faucet, splashing cool water on your face, hoping it soothes the obvious signs of crying.

Time is up, you can't stall any longer. With a fortifying gulp of oxygen, you drag the paper towel harshly across your face, wiping away the water, and push the door open. Jason is waiting there, shopping cart abandoned a few feet away, leaning against the wall, local business cards pinned to the wall next to store notices, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Baby."

You're frozen, eyes locked on the overlapping flyers and cards on the wall over his shoulder, unable to meet his gaze. Jason can see it. The remnants of salt tracks on your cheeks, eyes red and puffy, lashes clumped together from the water you hastily splashed on your face in a harried attempt to cover your reaction. 

He wishes he could rewind, take back the past few minutes, and unsay those words, spare you the heartache. He knows he can't; it's a pointless wish, spent in vain like the coins he tossed in the well with his mother all those years ago. 

"Baby," he repeats, voice low, shoulders sagging when you ignore him. "Y/N, just look at me, please."

His voice isn't him, isn't Jason, viscid like a flower soaked with dew, drooping beneath his regret. He's too pretty, too serious, you shouldn't let him wallow in it, you know that. But his words were too real, too close to that oozy, rotten spot in your heart that cries for acceptance. 

It takes everything in you to drag your gaze to his, jarring when you meet those eyes, deep and sorry, churning like an earthen ocean, soil and sediment devouring itself. It's like watching the earth cave in. It's alarming, unsettling, it makes you want to touch his face and beg for the promise that it's all okay. 

Is it though?

"I'm sorry. What I said- It came out wrong. I would never insult the life we've built, I-"

"You did though, Jay. You did insult it. You pissed all over it."

Jason winces at your bluntness, nearly an idiom, yet far from it. He focuses on your words, playing them over and over, watching your lips twist sardonically, building a wall around yourself. "It's fine, okay? I get it."

"No, you don't." He finds his voice, gruff with the nasty feeling building in his stomach, unable to be gentle in the wake of his own despondency. 

"Can we just go home? I don't want to have this conversation here."

Movements stilted, uncoordinated he moves to the abandoned shopping cart, hands wrapping around the handle in a white-knuckled grip. He takes two steps, yanks the cart back, and turns to you so abruptly that you nearly collide with his chest. 

"No. No, we are going to have this conversation now, otherwise you'll never have it. You know damn well I wasn't insulting you, or our home, or our life."

Blank-faced, eyes a hollow shade of their usual verdancy, you don't show any sign you really heard his words. 

He's never felt this before, desperate and shaky with wanting- no needing you to understand. Why does this feel so insurmountable? His hands land on your shoulders, large, hot, scarred, shaking just enough to inspire a rise out of you. 

You swat his hands away, fresh tears burning tracks down your face, humiliating, telling. "I care, okay! Damn you, Jason, I care!"

You suck in air too fast, choke on it, a strangled sob dancing on your lips, free falling. Hands useless on his chest, feigning a shove, curling in his soft tee shirt and pulling him closer. Tucked away in your little nook, no one is around, no one sees the mania tainting the air. Lovers begging forgiveness for the transgression of misunderstanding. 

He buries his face in your hair, hiding his face, hiding his relief at your touch, at your admission. "I care too. I care that I've tied you to this hell hole with almost no chance of getting out."

"You don't get it, do you?"

Jason can barely hear, your voice smothered by his chest, the fabric of his shirt, his hearing a bit unreliable from too many head wounds. "Get what?"

"I don't want more. I don't want... I don't know what you envision, but my happiness is this. Buying groceries with you and, and- Gotham. My happiness is fucking Gotham if I'm here with you. I don't need-"

"You deserve-"

"Do not interrupt me, Jason Todd!"

He recoils, stung, chastised, conceding quickly, lips pressed into a thin line. "Okay."

"I do not need anything more. I don't need a big house or a safer city to play in or whatever it is you think I ought to have. Deserve? I don't even know what that means. But I want you, and I'm content with this life. Until you start picking it apart and making it seem like it's not good enough for you. I cannot tolerate that. I won't." 

He waits, the silence stretching on and on, like the fraying string on a shirt that refuses to snap, until he is certain you're finished.

"You're right."

"That's all?"

"No. It's much more than that. But-"

He releases you, feeling your hands release his shirt slowly, confused as he steps back, raking his hands through his hair. 

"You asked me so nicely for flowers. Let's start again. And we can finish at home, like you asked."

You blink. Once, twice, three times, trying to process, waiting to see if any argument floats to the surface of thought, but none does. Nodding, you step to his side, following him quietly to the tables of flowers once more. 

It happens at the same moment, your eyes find the simple bunch of sunflowers and baby's breath the second his do. Understated and sweet, the type of flowers to catch your eye and hold it with a strange fascination. 

"These?" you ask, eyes never leaving the buds, fingers tentatively caressing the soft petals. 

"Yeah. I like those. They're pretty."

They are pretty. And suddenly, you need to see him, touch him. Placing the bouquet back you turn to him, cool hands pressed to his warm cheeks, eyes tracing soft lips, and the strong line of his nose. Those eyes that say secret things to you, things his lips could never speak. The panic and overwhelming nature of the trip are still fresh in your mind, but his eyes say he understands, his eyes reflect the same image as yours and it's less. Less upsetting, less frustrating, less misconstrued. 

"I get it too."

Your words soothe the cuts on his heart, shallow and stinging like paper cuts. His lips are on yours before he knows what's happening, no self-control left at this moment.

It's over too fast, a promise, a vow, an apology. You know; you feel it, trying to pass over all of your love in return. It's enough, more than enough because he smiles when he pulls away, kisses a trail up your nose to your forehead, and into your hairline. 

"I love you, Jay."

"I love you, Y/N."

Gotham isn't much, your apartment isn't much, and a single bouquet of flowers in your drab little living room is hardly anything at all. But it's plenty for you, plenty for Jason. It's enough. 

[bamsara]

20: "How long did you think that you could hide that?"

Sun Centric | Wordcount: 1,338 | AO3 Version

I pulled another Solar Lunacy bullet draft out for this prompt, so this is more of a SL crumb than it is a stand-alone drabble. Expect to see this scene again in SL, but maybe written better (and a different beginning and ending, some details more fitting, ect)

To be fair, you had done an excellent job hiding the limp you had so far.

It happened this morning. Routine schedule with a list of tasks and chores that required a cleaning cart's assistance to lug around all the tools and trash, except you got your wheel caught in the small gap at the entrance of the elevator, and your attempt to free it consisted of you pulling and pushing and praying to whatever was out there to dislodge the damn thing while profusly apologizing to the Pizzaplex goers behind you waiting impatiently for use of the elevator while you struggle.

Eventually, you get it dislodged. Yay! Unfortunatly, you twist your ankle when it pops out and you have to do some sort of ninja type of move to prevent from accidently being rolled over on. Only, you were a terrible acrobat, and now your ankle was throbbing and you didn't even have ibeprofen to help with it.

So! Power through it. You'll ice it when you get home. These paychecks won't earn themselves.

You don't allow yourself to limp because you don't want to get any stares or complaints from the families roaming the pizzaplex, or have any of the animatronics send you a concerned look (which makes you act particularly casual when Freddy comes around to say hi. The last thing you want to do is have the busy bear worry about you.) which means you're gritting your teeth and blowing air through your nose, but faking it until you make it seems to work.

That is, until you arrive at the daycare.

You bring a cart full of diapers, wipes and other important items for stock, the heavy lifting the last chore for the day but the one you were dreading the most. Sun greets you at the door, and behind him is a chorus of small voices that yell out greetings to you as soon as you walk in.

Friendly bunch, they are. You're glad the Daycare Attendant has his hands busy with the kids, so if you needed to lean on the desk for a moment, you probably wouldn't look suspisious. Rolling the cart in, you wave to the gaggle of children that sitting on the floor, gathered for story time probably, before wheeling the cart towards the shelves-

Metal hands come around your shoulders, stopping you in place. "My, my! You've brought us so many presents!"

You crane your head back. Sun's smile beams down at you, and you smile back. "Yeah! Hope you like diapers."

"I sure do! Keeps all the messy bits easy for quick cleaning." He jests, and as if on cue a couple of children give a very cute 'eewwwwww' in the background as you snort. Sun's head rotates completely, in full-jester mode. "Oh, you'll be joining us for story time, won't you? Won't you?"

You wave him off, forcing your face to remain plain and chipper despite the pain that was swelling up your leg at the moment. "Sorry, no can do. I gotta get these boxes sorted first-"

"Oh, but I think you can, and you will!" Suddenly, the hands on your shoulders are gripping a little bit tighter. You are all but guided (more like half-dragged) to where the gaggle of children are sitting in a circle and plopped in the middle. "In fact, you should take over! I've been telling the same fairy tales, all princesses and monsters and bears and rabbits-" Sun pats you on the back, non-chalant. "Why don't you tell a story, something new? I'm sure you have it in you friend."

As nice as it was to be sitting down on the mat where there wasn't a weight constant on your ankle, the several pairs of wide anticipating eyes of children was a little unerving. "Uh-"

"Good!" Sun reels back, hands on his hips. In one swift motion, his legs swivel around to start walking towards the cart and boxes, while his head and torso stay facing you and the children. "I'll take care of these gifts! Better this way, I have a very particular way of organizing things you know."

He leaves you there, and now you're stuck entertaining children until he's finished.

...Honestly? Not the worst thing he's done, and there's a sense of reflief since you're not standing anymore, so you'll play right into the game.

You tell the children stories about the horrors of what happens if you don't brush your teeth enough, of a boy that ate so many greens he became the strongest being in the world, of a dog that learned how to play basketball, of aliens that crashed into hawaii and made friends and a family there. Anything you can pull off the topc of your head, really, and lucky enough for you; they were eating the stories out of the palm of your hand.

Sun is quicker than you would have been putting away the boxes, and is at the ready for checkout when some of the first parents arrive to pick up their children. You continue to tell the stories even as your audience dwindles, answering questions when they raise their hands and resisting the urge to laugh when a little boy with glasses too big asks you if Santa Clause was an alien.

Sun finishes the stocking rather quickly, and instead retaking his spot, sits cross legged and joins the circle of children easgly waiting to hear your story. He even goes as far as to lightly clap when you're finished with one, the other children joining in just to mimick him. It's actaully really cute.

The last boy is checked out by his parents. You wave from your spot on the floor mat, not moving because you don't feel like it and uncaring if you looked a little silly to the mother. Sighing, you let relief out of your lungs as Sun closes and locks the Daycare doors behind them.

Sun literally cartwheels back to you, spinning on one heel before plopping down right in front of you. His height makes him tower over you even as you're both sitting down, and you're currently thinking about an excuse to say or mustering up the strength to stand on that leg again.

Sun leans forwards, head resting in his hands and smiling widly. "Looks like you've become quite the favorite around here!"

You return the smile, and move to get up. "Yeah, yeah. Just promote me at this rate and I can take your job all the time-"

A hand clasps around your knee and you wince. The preassure is genlte, not huritng, but heavy enough it forces you back down to the ground where you sit and stare at the Daycare Attendant's grip on your leg, and his thoughtful face as he hums. "And how long did you think you could hide that?"

A tug from your leg to free yourself, his grip doesn't budge. You almost pout. "...hide what?"

Fingers lessen around your pants leg, trail lower down to your ankle and hook underneath the fabric, pushing it up. There's a definate swollenness to your ankle now, more so than the last time you checked. Sun tuts at the sight of it. "This, friend."

Aw rats, you've been caught. "It's fine, I'm not a wuss."

"We never said you were!" Sun gasps, offended. A pause. "Well, I never said you were. Still a terrible idea, though."

Your shrug is half-hearted. "So? I can't exactly slack off, here. I'm already in hot water with managment and bills don't pay themselves."

"You are very lucky I was programmed with much patience!" Sun sounds like a mixture of frusteration, exasperation, and affection. It's a comforting tone of voice, so it doesn't alarm you right away until the animatronic's hands are reaching forwards, hooking underneath your knees and against your lower back before you can protest. "Onwards, to the first aid corner!"

"...Does this mean you've gotten a doctor's license yet?"

"I am not legally required to answer that question!"

[ns-imagines]

What they drive

141 Guys x domestic/everyday life

SFW | Word Count: 1.4k | Headcannons

**Long post with lots of pictures!

A/N: I dunno much about cars but I always wonder what the boys would be driving. See what they’re picking me up in for date night… this is just for fun and highlights the modern life they have outside of missions. Also the gif of Soap falling on the car took me out lmao. Not requested. -Kiv

John Price

A man who takes pride in his vehicles. He has two Chevy trucks. A nice truck for everyday use and a project truck. The perfect person to talk to if you are thinking of purchasing a car or truck. Price has got the “dealership scam” game down. You'll be leaving the lot with a good deal.

The project car being a 1985 Chevy C10. Price is always going on about how “this is every man's dream car to work on”. He says it everytime he opens the garage. Without fail! It's got a classic blue color with a few rust spots but, nothing a good layer of paint can't fix. Its the 90s car from the movies. Nothing else to say about it!

Ahh the project car. Price works on it when he can. Set up a lawn chair, get a glass of lemonade, and just watch that man work. Sometimes hell even explain to you what he’s doing. That is if you can even pay attention. There’s something so attractive about a man talking about what he’s passionate about all sweaty with a nice pump. HEY, wipe that drool off your face.

Price’s personal truck is nice. It gets him from point A to B. Everything on it is stock. He’ll always tell you hes gonna sell it once his project car has been fixed. But there’s still quite a lot to do on the project car. Its a 2012 Chevy Silverado in cherry black with a covered bed. Good on gas and can pull a trailer or boat! He doesn’t invest money in it for other than maintenance costs.

It smells specifically like “Lakeside Morning” from Bath and Body works car scents. The packaging is what got him. It was honestly super cute when he read the package out loud. “Smells like: Cool, Sweet, Fresh, and alone time on the dock” followed by a shrug and him throwing it into his cart. Does he even fish?

Oh, whenever he turns a corner in the Silverado theres a thud coming from the bed. Its a cooler that has been there FOREVER. He swears he’s going to take it out. Price brought it when 141 met for a cook out and some beers a few months ago.

-

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Don’t ask about the APR please. Kyle is going to use this bad girl till it breaks. Its his dream car. Price took him away from base to get a better rate for it! Its fast its speedy its a 2015 Ford Shelby GT350. Oh yeah racing stripes and all. He got it wrapped in a matte ocean blue. Im talking leather seats, tinted windows, and custom wheel.

Kyle loves this car and will always offer to pick you up. Ur always going to be passenger princess. Kyle always drives up reallll slow, rev the engine a little, and rolls down the window to smile big at you. He gets the door for you when you are both approaching the car. Don’t test him. He will literally sprint to get the door for you. An actual cutiepie

Hes so damn cute when it comes to long drives. Hand on your thigh and singing to the music together. Expect spontaneous trips!! He doesn’t even know where you guys are headed today.

Loves to speed up when there no cars in front of him. That feeling of the car pushing into you the sear is his favorite. Kyle is definitely the type to lightly bang on the steering wheel and go “Wooooooo” when returning to the normal speed limit. Hehe. Hope it didn’t freak you out too much. You will without a doubt get a few reassuring thigh squeezes.

Classic Black Ice scent. Cant go wrong with it! Its his car’s signature sent if you ask him. Kyle keeps his car clean. Theres a few half empty water bottles in the back but never straight up trash. He makes sure to buy the premium wipes for the interior. Like I said that car is his baby. Ugh did i mention the sound system?! Its absolutely amazing. You can feel the bass in your bones. Literally sounds like you’re in an air pod pro.

-

John “Soap” Mactavish

His car is the hangout car. Like if were going out with boys were taking Soaps car. He drives a pearl colored 2020 Honda Accord. He ordered the under the seat lights and everything. Its actually a vibe in there. The music changes the lights or he has an app on his phone to change the color. Another amazing sound system tbh.

Similar to Gaz the glovebox in the car is yours. He even puts stuff in there for you as a surprise :,). Sweet baby Johnny. Like one time you got in the car like usual and opened the glovebox to grab chapstick or some perfume/cologne and sitting on the car instruction manual was a bag/box of ur favorite snack. When you looked back over, Johnny was looking back at you with a big derpy smile.

Since his car is the hangout car it can get messy pretty easily. He has to do “trash runs” to empty the random things people leave in his car. Dont get it wrong, It isnt nasty with random food left behind!! Soap has tried those like little trash cans on Amazon but they always end up lost under the back seats.

Johnny always goes with New Car Smell. He doesn’t have a specific brand he likes he just gets whatever’s at the gas station at the time. He also has the bad habit of never locking his car. Soap swears he always forgets to but you think its just a habit at this point.

CEO of spontaneous trips. You would never believe how much camping stuff his car can hold. Soap will give him car encouraging words as it struggles to go up the hills to the hike or camping site. He always keeps an emergency box under the passenger seat. Its shaped like tackle box. It has a first aid kit, some portable batteries with chargers, flares, and an emergency flash light. Last time you both went camping he was so excited to show you the random hatchet he bought. He keeps it in the trunk for no reason. I mean, he cant have it in the barracks so you suppose it makes sense.

-

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon currently owns two bikes. Hes in the process of selling his old one. Which is a chameleon purple painted 2006 Suzuki GSXR600 with 750 cc. It gave him a good year and half off rides. He took care of it and rode it to its top speeds. It has a scuff on the side from when he tried to do a wheelie but, he was going to slow and had to jump off before it fell to its side. Your heart sunk when it happened. Ghost was super embarrassed because he thought he had it down. He’ll never tell you though.

After a long deployment where he was getting quite a big of hazard pay (extra pay when you’re in a dangerous location) he saved it all up. As soon as he got back he bought a black 2021 Honda Rebel 1100 DCT. This bike is fast but it’s more for cursing. Trust that he’ll ride it to its max speed at least once for the adrenaline rush.

Bought you a matching jacket. He wont say anything about it being matching but you noticed almost after putting it on. Best part about riding is when you get to wrap your arms around his waist. Simon always makes sure to take it slow especially if you get nervous on bikes. Don’t even try to do your hair. He wont move the bike unless you have the right gear on. Ghost doesn’t wanna lose you from an accident.

You are probably wondering what he does when it rains… or maybe you already knew he chooses to ride anyway. I promise though that after a ride in the rain he will slightly complain about how wet the road was. It makes you worry because so much could happen with one slip. Simon will always reassure you that he’s an experienced rider. If you pick him up in your car he won’t be upset. Definitely wont say no to a free and dry ride!

[choicesficwriterscreations]

April OC of the Month: Olivia Hadley

Please welcome April 2024's MC of the Month! Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s OC of the month is…

@storyofmychoices's Olivia Hadley!

More below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

Olivia is literally sunshine. She is the most genuine and empathetic person. She constantly looks for ways to help others and make life better for those who are not as fortunate as she is. She always tries to make everyone she meets (especially children) feel special and heard/appreciated. It doesn’t matter if she knows them or not. She looks out for everyone. She is just a good person with the most beautiful heart and soul. She is so precious to me. In an ideal world, there would be a lot more Olivia’s to help us all feel special.

Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I do think Olivia and I have a lot in common. While I wish I could be as kind and empathetic as Olivia, I am still human, and I make mistakes. I try really hard to live by the principles of “leave the world a little better than you found it” (even if it’s just putting away a grocery cart someone left or picking up one piece of trash in a parking lot) and “be kind whenever possible; it is always possible” (this one is a little harder, but I try every single day to show kindness to everyone, even when I cannot show it to myself). I feel those principles also represent Olivia, she’s just better at it than me.

I also think we have similar occupations. We both wanted to be veterinarians and then learned we’d have to put animals down. Then we both switched to Pediatric Medicine. Olivia stuck with it. I decided to be a teacher because Pediatricians need to know how to deliver babies, and that’s a hard pass for me. Childbirth might be a miracle, but it’s disgusting (IMHO) lol. But we both work closely with children and try to make a positive impact on their lives. We both do whatever we can to create a safe place where children can tell us stuff they don’t know if they can share with their parents yet (questioning their sexual identity or gender). I’ve been very lucky to help several transgender elementary students feel more confident and accepted as well as work with parents to help them help their child. I’ve also worked with students with abusive home lives or their families can’t afford basic needs so I’ve gone out of my way to try to help them through anonymous donations and gift cards through the school. Anything I can do to ease even one struggle, I will do it and I think that is very much the person Olivia is. Olivia will always look out for anyone in her life. 

As for differences, Olivia is a little more confident than I am. I drink far more coffee than she does. We both love plants, but she keeps them alive better than I do. I try, but I don’t always succeed, though a cactus I got as a gift from a student 3 years ago just bloomed for the first time this month, so I’m super excited for that. Maybe Olivia is finally rubbing off?

What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Olivia’s motivation is truly to make the world a better place. She knows that it’s not always easy, and there are so many struggles and so many hardships. She really wants to make a difference in the lives of those closest to her as well as in the community she serves. She knows she can’t conquer world hunger or global peace, but if she can make a difference to people around her then maybe those people can help some others and things would ripple out from there. 

After she has children, her motivation splits. She’ll never stop caring about those around her or the patients she sees, but her children are her first priority.

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

Olivia doesn’t like gossip. She doesn’t like when people talk about others behind their back in a negative way. It makes her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t like passive aggressive responses to situations. She genuinely believes that people are good, and if we all just try to have a little more empathy and understanding, the world would be a better place. 

She doesn't like rudeness, pettiness, or dishonesty.

Olivia prefers order and organization, so she dislikes chaos and messy places. 

If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

If Olivia could change anything, she’d find a cure for childhood cancer. She takes each case to heart and watching children struggle is something that is very hard for her. She would never trade her time at Edenbrook for anything, and she feels guilty for even thinking it, but she is grateful when she opens her own practice that most of her cases become regular checkups and normal/everyday illnesses.

What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

“My favorite things in life don't cost any money. It's really clear that the most precious resource we all have is time." — Steve Jobs

“You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that, I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.” ― Maya Angelou

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." —Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow." — Mary Anne Radmacher

“Even miracles take a little time.” — Fairy GodMother (Cinderella) 

“Happily ever after is about finding happiness within yourself and holding on to it through any storm that comes your way." —Chris Colfer

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?  (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your OC - an acceptance speech. :) )

Ahhh what else to say about my precious Olivia?! She truly brings me so much joy.  

If you’ve been in this fandom long enough, you’ll remember I was an Ethan romancer when OH first released. I enjoyed Ethan/MC’s dynamic. They totally reminded me of Thomas Hunt x MC. However, just before the pandemic, I wrote Bryce, thinking it was a one off thing, but as the world started to shut down, things got darker and scarier, Bryce Lahela’s sunshine and encouragement was something that resonated with me. I tried to make Olivia fit in the role of MC, but I just didn’t like the setup of MC with Bryce. So I made Olivia an original character. Taking her out of that MC role gave me so much more freedom with her and so much more freedom for telling her and Bryce’s story. I loved being able to see where each story would take them. I’m eternally grateful to Olivia (and Bryce) for helping me get through the Covid Pandemic. Having her and Bryce and their friends and family helped me have something positive and hope-filled to hold onto.

Olivia is actually really competitive. You might not see it or notice it at first, but if you’ve ever been a part of any competition with her, you’ll see she will not hold back. 

Olivia has a black belt in taekwondo, even though she never talks about it. She got it in High School. She wanted to do something to challenge herself and she wasn’t participating in any team sports, though she did try to get a pingpong team started in her school but it never took off. 

Olivia volunteered with Habitat for Humanity for a summer in the Dominican Republic.

Olivia has Scottish roots and has always dreamed of going to Scotland. She hasn’t gotten there yet, but one day!

Olivia is almost as lucky to have such good friends in Casey and Merida as I am to have @jerzwriter and @lilyoffandoms in my life. I can’t even begin to express how special they are to me and how I treasure their friendship.

Thank you to everyone who has ever supported Olivia. She is truly a special character who is so close to my heart. The fact that she is truly an original character and you still adore her means so much to me. I can’t say thank you enough. The amount of serotonin I get from writing and sharing her with you should be illegal, and then when anyone interacts, my heart explodes with unicorns and rainbows and all the sunshine. I’m eternally grateful for the support of Olivia, Bryce, and their little world. Thank you!!! 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mise en Place 1

Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

You place the final sparkling glass on the cart and give a tiny smile at the accomplishment. Your work isn't particularly complicated or glamorous. As eager singles and lively coeds wait outside to invade the downtown club, you work tirelessly to ready the place; clean the dishes, sweep and mop the floors, vacuum the coatroom…

The work is draining but simple. You don't mind it so much. You mostly hide in the shadows and get it done, take your check, and retreat to your singulsr existence. Your co-workers more than make up for your invisibility.

You can hear the booming voice of the bartender as he chats with the other. His voice tends to carry over most other noises, even the music when its thrumming from the subwoofers. You always hear him coming whereas you are ever unnoticed by others.

Sonny, the cook, chops at the cutting board, the air vibrant with the the aromas of his simmering pans. The private rooms are ready for their guests, most of the plates will be sent there. Everything has its place in the club; the burly blond behind the bar, Sonny at the stove, and you wherever a mess arises.

"Glasses," the door swings inward, startling you as you carry the used utensils and bowls from Sonny's station to the sink, "ah, perfect."

Thor, the bartender, strides over, his immense size making the space feel even smaller. Yourself too.

He nears and grabs the handle on the cart. You barely have time to react as he lurches it too sharply. One of the highball glasses slides off and shatters on the floor as he stops. You barely keep several others from following suit.

"Oh, apologies," he grins guiltily at the glass shards.

"Thor, if you're not in here stealing apps, you're trashing the place," Sonny guffaws.

"I didn't mean to," the bartender says defensively, "I'll clean it–"

"I got it," you're quicker than him as you grabs the broom from where you left it, "no worries."

A hum catches in his throat as you return to the cart and slowly roll it towards him. He backs up with your careful advance. He grips the handle and slowly pulls it with him, this time making a show of doing so cautiously.

"No worries," he echoes you, "thank you."

He wheels backward through the door as you turn to sweep up the scattered glass. Sonny grunts as a pan hisses. He tuts as he sprinkles spice into one.

"Bozo, that one is," he chuckles, "makes a mean cocktail despite having the grace of a newborn elephant."

You nod and say nothing. You don't know Thor well, you see him around, like most of the other employees. Bottle girls, servers, bouncers. You only ever see Sonny or the other chef, Enid, often. Neither really seems to mind you and talk more to fill the dearth than make friends.

"Lucky his brother runs the place or he'd be paying for all the nachos. Never knew a man who could eat so much. Good guy but… insatiable."

You listen without response. The crotchety chef is used to that. You almost think he prefers it. He doesn't argue with you like he does the bottle girls or posture as he does around the bouncers. Especially the big one, August.

You scoop up the glass in the dustpan and dumb it in a box formerly used for the ready to serve cans. You set it with the recycle and go back to the task of scouring the dishes. Sonny whistles along to the softly buzzing radio, soon to be replaced with the coursing of modern pop music.

Employees drift in and out; servers bitching, bottle girls grabbing tall bottles, and a shuffle you can't keep order of.

The DJ puts on the first track and signals opening. You put your ear plugs in then, it's a bit too loud for your brain to focus. You linger in the kitchen, you'll sneak out to collect empty glasses once the place is a bit fuller.

Sonny sends his first apps and slips the pack of smokes from his front pocket. He signals that's he's going for his usual break and you nod as you go to peek through the window. Servers take the trays and crumple tickets as you look past them.

The flashing of colored lights reflect off sparkling outfits and add definition to attractive faces. You were never the club type. Never had much of a chance. No school, no parties, just work.

"Goddamn," Thor blusters in, the door bouncing off the metsl corner of the counter, "Loki… always…"

He stops his grumbling as the door shuts and reveals you just on the other side. He gives a sheepish grin and you stand dumbly watching him. You probably should try to look busy.

"Tequila," he declares, "I missed it in inventory."

You quick push away from the counter and beat him to the storage room. You're not sure what kind he needs but you recall an empty one with the gold cap. You grab that and come back to the doorway as he nears. He almost jumps back, as if he didn't expect you.

"Oh, fawn, you scared me," he smiles, his blue eyes gleaming, "ah, you are exactly what I need."

He takes the tequila from you and raises it to read the label.

"Clever," he muses, "perhaps you might do me another favour."

You stare at him. Well, you won't have much to do for a while. You nod.

"It'll only be me tonight," he declares, "so, I need some help. You would only need to be my assistant. Hand me bottles and glasses…"

"Oh, I don't… know if I–"

"You will not get any trouble for it, hm? I will speak to my brother should he try to give any. Besides, I am rather desperate."

He sticks his lip out, just a little, just enough to tweak your heart. It might not be wise to say no to the brother of the owner.

"Just for a little," you permit, "okay?"

[dmitriene]

ʙʟᴏᴏᴅꜱᴛᴀɪɴꜱ.

❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

❝ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ❞ 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘔𝘌𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘐𝘔𝘖𝘕, 𝘎𝘖𝘙𝘌, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱, 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥.

❝𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦❞ 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢, 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢.. 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘢𝘮.

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

You hated your job.

Hated it with a passion that burned deep within you like a smoldering ember.

The hotel you worked at was nothing short of a cesspool of filth, and your position as a maid only amplified your disdain.

It was meant to be your ticket to independence, your way of stepping into adulthood, but instead, it felt like a never ending descent into the depths of human depravity.

Each day was a torturous cycle of cleaning up after inconsiderate guests who treated their rooms like garbage dumps — dirty towels littered the floors, trash cans overflowed with discarded fast-food containers, and the bathroom sinks were often marred with lipstick stains and toothpaste splatters.

And then there were the guests themselves — many of them brazenly objectifying you, making your skin crawl with their lecherous comments and wandering hands.

But the worst part of it all was your boss — a slimy, middle aged man who took your politeness as an invitation to harass you with repugnant attempts at flirting.

It was a constant struggle to maintain your composure, to avoid lashing out at him and risking your livelihood.

Tonight, however, would be different.

As you wheeled the cart down the dimly lit hallway, you muttered curses under your breath, a long list of complaints about the mess the guests left behind.

And when you entered the dimly lit room, your heart sank at the sight of the chaos.

It seems that some guests have not even made an effort to maintain their rooms in decent condition.

You sighed, muttering another set of curse words under your breath, and began to pick up the scattered towels from the bathroom floor.

Your thoughts were consumed by the disgusting treatment you endured every day, and the feeling of despair grew heavier with each passing moment.

And then, suddenly, you were startled by a knock on the door.

The door swung open with a sharp creak, and you froze in your tracks, you were alone in the hallway, and fear squeezed your heart as you carefully stepped towards the slightly open bathroom door.

But before you could react, a crimson splatter of blood splashed in front of you.

Your eyes widened in horror as you saw a man in military uniform, Simon, mercilessly deal with the man lying on the floor.

Blood gushed around the lifeless body as Simon's merciless blows pierced the victim's neck.

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, and instinctively stepped back, pressing yourself against the sink, not taking your eyes off the terrible scene unfolding in front of you.

Simon's cruelty sent a shiver down your spine and your breathing quickened as you witnessed the brutal murder — the man's body twitching and convulsing under Simon's relentless attacks until he finally froze motionless.

Simon stood up, calmly wiping the blood from his hands, and then you noticed the creepy balaclava hiding his face.

Terror coursed through your veins as he headed for the bathroom door, you stepped back, trembling, and just as you were about to open your mouth to beg for your life, the glass of detergent fell from your shaking hands and fell noisily on the floor.

Simon turned abruptly and moved toward the bathroom, yanking the door open as you fell to the floor in a panic, tears streaming down your face, begging him not to kill you — «Please, don't kill me!» you whimpered.

His cold gaze only glared at you as he muttered — «Maid, huh?»

Before you could react, he pushed you deeper into the room, away from the bathroom.

Your heart was pounding as he forced you to look at the lifeless corpse and the pool of blood as he placed his large warm hand on the small of your back and you shuddered at his touch — «Come on, love» he whispered in your ear in a strange soothing voice, coaxing slightly — «Clean this shit up»

His hand lightly spanked your quivering ass, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were used to being treated poorly by guests, but this was different — the contrast between his cold demeanor and the unexpected heat of his touch stunned you, despite the fear and nausea from the metallic smell of blood in the room.

Tears flowed freely as you grabbed the rag you had discarded earlier and began the gruesome task of cleaning up the blood-soaked mess.

Simon leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on you, clearly amused by the whole situation.

He listened to your sobs and watched as you vigorously mopped the floor, trying not to look at the terrible appearance of the corpse with open lifeless eyes and a deep bloody wound on the neck.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally finished cleaning the room.

Your knees went weak and you struggled to regain your balance — Simon, surprisingly gentle enough for a cold killer, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to your feet.

Holding you, he slipped a couple of large bills into your breast pocket— you could feel the freshness of the money through your uniform as he reached out to caress your tear stained cheek, his gloved hand surprisingly gentle.

— «Thank you for your work, love» he said quietly, before patting you where he spanked you earlier and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

The dim light casts eerie shadows, emphasizing the brutality of the scene in front of you as you knelt on the bloody carpet, and the smell of iron hung in the air, making your stomach churn.

You were left alone, a mixture of emotions seething inside you — you hated your job even more, but you couldn’t deny a strange feeling of gratitude to the unknown killer who left you a generous tip and a mysterious phone number.

What could this mean?

As you knelt there, shaking, covered in sweat and tears, you couldn't help but wonder if this night would change your life forever — what kind of darkness had you stumbled upon, and what role would Simon play in your uncertain future?

One thing was certain — your life would never be the same again.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

[blueiskewl]

Lost and Found: Bottle Hunter Digs Extraordinary Farmland Treasures

Tom Askjem is a time traveler. Every May to November, he disappears into the bowels of the earth, descends to depths of 13’-plus, and returns to the surface with treasure—bottles and glassware from farming’s past.

After 1,800 pits and hundreds of thousands of relics, Askjem is equal parts archeologist, thrill seeker, and mole. Muscle on dirt, the North Dakota farm boy has turned an addiction into a career, multiple books, and a captivating YouTube channel with millions of views. However, Askjem seeks more than glass.

“I’m digging for adventure, history, and love,” he says. The past is in these holes and there are countless numbers of them across farmland.”

Time to hunt with a master.

The Infection

On the flats of extreme eastern North Dakota’s Traill County, Askjem, 32, prepares for a dig trip. “No mountains and no hills in the Red River Valley,” he describes. “You can see your dog run away for days. The land is mostly featureless, other than a few big cottonwoods and shelter belts where farms used to be.”

A mop of blonde hair sits atop a 6’-tall, lanky frame as Askjem saddles his pony—a Honda Civic. At the current mileage rate, the Civic will be junkyard fodder before it has a scratch: 60,000 backroad miles added to the odometer in the past six months.

Askjem piles layers of gear into the trunk, including three of each tool for insurance: shovels, pronged garden forks, trampoline pads, probe rods, buckets, plastic scoopers, trowels, tents, sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, air mattresses, clothes, and waterproof, Redwing leather work boots.

“It never gets old,” he says, wearing a wide grin. “I caught the infection when I was a kid.”

Digging Bodies

Pushed from the Grand Forks area by the historic Red River flood of 1997, Askjem moved to a farm outside Buxton at six years young. The main property was an 1878 homestead—a progression from sod house to log cabin to the present standing 1898 farmhouse decked in Victorian-era woodwork and hardware.

Surrounded by history, including the skeletons of old wagons and rusting machinery, Askjem explored a 5-acre patch of woods on the property, and chanced on a garbage dump: pop bottles and trash.

Askjem dug.

“I went deep and found stuff going back to 1898. When you’re a kid living in the country, there’s no going down the street and there’s no hanging with friends to play video games—you make your own adventure. I started hitting up all the farmers I could find for leads.”

Behind the wheel of a rattling go-cart, Askjem sought Buxton old-timers and collected tips on abandoned houses. “They all helped me,” he says. “Nobody cared where I hunted because I was just a little kid exploring for all the right reasons.”

“I’ve still got an elementary school journal with an assignment describing my weekend,” he adds. “I wrote, ‘Me and Mom dug up old bodies.’ The teacher marked my paper out of concern,” Askjem describes, with an easy, deep chuckle. “I meant to spell bottles, not bodies. But it shows I was truly hooked.”

Indeed. Wonderfully hooked.

Soft Landing

Why are bottles buried under farmland and old house sites?

Prior to plastic and synthetics, glassware held everything: medicine, hygiene products, alcohol, soda, and beyond. Glass was it.

Additionally, prior to waste disposal services, homeowners discarded trash on-site—in back yard outhouses, trash depressions, burn pits, and wells or cisterns. In short time, the various ground receptacle spots were filled and forgotten.

“Let’s say, for example, a family moved in around 1880,” Askjem explains. “That site likely has two or three outhouse locations prior to World War l. The outhouse spots filled up at a rate according to family size. I dug one farmhouse site that had six outhouses in a 10-year span. Folks went into the outhouses and threw away bottles: medicine, opiates, beer, whiskey. It was convenient and private, and had a soft landing, and got covered quickly. Even now, the bottles often are still preserved.”

“Generally, these houses also had a burn pit and/or dump pit. In the early days, they burned all trash in the stove for heat. Also, homestead bucket wells were filled up with trash and bottles once they were replaced by pump wells. Cisterns also were eventually filled up, but most of those are associated with houses in town.”

And the sites remain, he emphasizes, hiding intact relics beyond the reach of farm machinery or tillage equipment.

X Marks the Spot

Location. Location. Location. Other than a tip or invitation, how does Askjem find dig sites?

X marks the spot, at least in the county courthouse or public library. He spends winters poring over early property transaction documents. “I look at lot sales. If several lots sold for $100 each in 1880, but one sold for $1,000 in 1885, the price climb tells the story and likely represents a building location.”

“I also read old newspaper archives, looking for hotel or business advertisements,” Askjem continues. “Then I can look up the proprietor’s name and keep tightening the scope, narrowing down the exact building location.”

“Every single house is different, but generally, in the countryside, outhouses were 30 paces out the back door. In the city, where most lots were 140’ long, outhouses could be as close as 5-10 paces.”

Confident of a site’s potential, Askjem first asks for permission to dig from the landowner. “Property owners are always so kind to me and I don’t hide anything I find. They’re curious about what is in the ground, just like anybody else.”

Second, he grids out the site. “I put down markers 2 paces apart, maybe 20 paces long. I push probe rods into ground and feel for compaction differences. Depending on the location, I’ll call in and have utility lines marked out for power and gas.”

Decked in Levi’s and a tank-top, it’s time to tunnel.

Claustrophobic Comfort

Shovel in hand, Askjem descends into a layer cake of dirt: black topsoil to brown-colored clay to telltale ash to a use layer containing treasure.

“Generally, I go deep to find old items in quantity. The earliest bottles were used to the last drop by farmers and thrown out empty. Therefore, when they froze in brutal Dakota winters, the glass didn’t break from liquid expansion.”

As Askjem extracts glass vessels from the dirt and grime, his encyclopedic knowledge registers with each find. He recognizes the type, manufacturer, and age. Ink bottles, hygiene bottles, medicine bottles, beer bottles, soda bottles—and far more spill from the holes.

“I find patented medicine bottles across the country, but my favorite are soda bottles because they are unique to their locale and have character. The old soda bottles are usually marked with the bottler and town name because they were returnable.”

The outhouse pits are typically 6’-deep at home sites, with an average size of 6’-by-4’-by-3’. “I’ve dug ghost towns, dug saloons, train depots, and pool halls that were 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 8’ deep. I remember a hotel pit that was 20’-by-20’ and 8’ deep. There was a military fort with pits behind the barracks that was 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 13.5’ deep: That was a week’s worth of digging.”

Askjem’s subterranean realm provides no comfort to the claustrophobic. At 8’-9’, he braces the holes with woodwork. “I’m in a solid clay base that doesn’t cave, but I have a healthy respect for the ground’s limitation. Sometimes, it looks like I’m digging a rabbit hole.”

Preserved in nature’s freezer, the artifacts unearthed by Askjem often are in phenomenal condition.

“Pieces of newspaper can still be read; bottle labels are legible; white lime used in decomposition is visible; and undigested seeds are everywhere. Even 120-year-old human waste sometimes is perfectly preserved and still smells like hell. I wear a hydrogen sulfide respirator in those cases.”

“It’s all there; almost like it was dropped yesterday.”

Ghosts in the Ground

In 2022, Askjem began chronicling his digs via a YouTube channel, Below the Plains, and soon captured millions of views. At two posts per week, he gins footage at a steady rate to feed the algorithm, a tough task considering the ground in his geography is frozen from mid-November to mid-May.

Additionally, Askjem has written two in-depth books (Nebraska Soda Bottles 1865-1930 and A History of North Dakota Bottling Operations 1879-1930) and has more on the way. “I put the bottle prices in the books because they can sell for a whole lot and I always tell the landowners. Listing prices draw criticism, but that’s important to me because it helps preserve the item, and preservation of history is what drives me.”

Covered in dust or mud at the end of each day in digging season, Askjem is highly respectful of what he finds—almost reverent after 1,800 digs. “I appreciate everything I uncover because it represents a part of someone’s daily life and existence. There’s nothing wrong with coveting bottles, but I’m really in those holes for the moment of discovery.”

Even when not digging, Askjem is on the move, surfing on the coasts or river diving for lost cargo. In the decades to come, will he continue burrowing into the past? “Twenty years from now, I hope I’m still digging and there’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now.”

“There’s not an infinite amount of lost bottle sites, but there’s certainly an incredibly high number,” he continues. “There were 300,000 homestead farms in North Dakota with a minimum of one well, one outhouse, and one trash dump. And that doesn’t include towns where most of the population lived. There are millions of these sites in North Dakota and far more in other states.”

Respect to a freewheeling hunter like no other. Bottles draw the eye, but ghosts draw the heart: “The moment never gets old when you uncover a bottle and find that history,” Askjem adds. “Never.”

By CHRIS BENNETT.

[poop-fartious]

I see that your ask are open for request and I see that you do fnaf and I was wondering do you do all the Fnaf games like for example Security Breach if sooo

Can you do worker y/n x Yandere moondrop/sundrop

(Either one is good moondrop or Sundrop or even both, I just love them so much)

Of course! I love those two lol.

DAYCARE ATTENDANT X WORKER!GN!READER

cw: yandere, possessiveness, blood mentions

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN

You sighed, making your way over to the daycare, wheeling over your massive cart as your heart filled with dread.

The daycare was not your favorite place to clean in the Pizzaplex, namely because once you think you finished cleaning one thing, another thing always pops up. Oh,you finally scrubbed out the blood an injured kid dripped onto the mat? Guess what, there’s a new crayon mess you somehow missed! Oh, you finished cleaning off the crayons? One kid found a sharpie and drew inside the slide, guess like you have to clean that up!

These kids were always so messy, and it was moments like this that made you wish that there was another person working with you, as much as you hated working with other people.

You made your way into the daycare, which was just as messy as it normally is, only this time something else was there.

The Daycare Attendant, the Sun.

He was picking up the mess that the children made before the daycare closed. He noticed you walk in and gave you a wide and excited wave.

"Hello, Sunbeam!" He said, "I’m helping you pick up!"

Sunbeam was Sun's nickname for you. He bounded his way over to you, dumping some trash into the nearby bin and soon after wrapped his arms around you in a warm embrace.

You, in turn, hugged him back. He was a solace after a long day, and usually he’d spend his time trying to entertain you.

Yet today seemed… different. He was acting strange the past month, acting more protective of you. He's also been asking more personal questions about you.

Today was different, after cleaning up the mess that the children made he simply wrapped himself around you and hugged you once again.

"Sunbeam, why do you leave every night?" asked Sun.

"I have a home to go to," you answered, "I have to pay bills, pay rent, pay taxes… I have to do a lot of stuff, it’s the responsibility of living,"

Sun didn't look so pleased.

"But those are all bad things!" Sun said, "Don't you want to stay here and play forever?"

You were silent for a bit, Sun anticipating your answer.

"…No,"

Sun was silent, but you spoke again.

"I don’t mean that… I dislike you, quite the opposite, but… I have friends outside, and I have a life to live,"

"What could be more important than your very special best friend?" Sun asked.

"My family? Family's important," you responded.

Sun didn't respond, but didn't let go. You snuggled into him, to help make up for you not staying with him forever, yet he still didn't let go.

"Uh… Sun?" you asked, "Can you let go?"

"No," Sun said, chillingly.

Your stomach dropped. He was serious about you staying with him forever. You quickly wormed your way out of Sun's grasp and made your way over to the exit, but Sun was surprisingly agile and was faster than you, blocking the door with his body.

"I didn't want to do this, Sunbeam," Sun said, before reaching for the light-switch and turning the lights off.

You took out your flashlight and aimed it at the door, only to find Sun wasn't there… there was nothing between you and the door.

You ran over and grabbed the doorknob, but a pair of hands wrapped around you.

"It's nice to meet you, Starlight~," a deep voice says into your ear. You snapped your head to find that the Sun was replaced with a similar animatronic, one that represented the moon.

"Moon?" you hesitantly asked, to which the attendant nodded.

"Let's not stay up any longer~," Moon said, "You'd be naughty if you stayed up past your bedtime, and I don't want to punish you, Starlight~,"

Moon effortlessly picked you up and brought you into the rear of the play area, where a small tent was set up. His red eyes bore into you as you both entered the tent.

He set you down on a pile of blankets, taking a spot next to you and snuggling into you.

"Good night, Starlight~…" Moon cooed.

You were exhausted, and while you did try to put up a fight, exhaustion kicked in and you fell asleep in his comfortable arms.

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: Fall out of Friendship, Fall Into Love

Summary:

Jon drags Damian to a Fall Festival, and he has more fun than expected. also known as the fluffiest thing i've written this whole week.   for supersons week 2023 Day Seven: Tricks and Treats

“C’mon, Dami, pleaseeee?” Jon wheedled, making his blue eyes big and shiny, practically on his knees.

His hands were clasped and he looked pitiful in Damian’s opinion, but he knew the moment Jon turned on his accursed puppy dog eyes, there was no resisting him.

Not even he could say no to them, which is how he managed to end up at Smallville's Fall Festival at the end of the week, one hand holding a tea latte that Jon had handed him and the other being used to drag him to yet another random booth.

“Ooh, look at that!”  The excited super pointed to the stuffed animal filled booth, on display in the middle were replicas of their superhero identities, surprisingly well done.

Damian huffed, knowing he would be subjected to buying whatever caught Jon’s eye. And so what if he kinda wanted one too? They were cute, and he was supporting a local business.

The lady smiled at them kindly as Jon fawned over everything as he had the past fifteen booths they’d visited. Pretending not to notice how his gaze lingered on the ones of them, he sipped his drink, pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually very good.

The tell-tale tug on his sleeve came and before Jon even opened his mouth, he tsked and cut him off.

“If you want it, it’s yours. But I want one too.” 

“That wasn't even what I was gonna ask but thank you, Dami!” His eyes went as wide as saucers as he cradled his plush and dragged him off to yet another booth.

After having successfully filled up at least ten more small bags filled with various random things including scarves, candles, and more toys, Jon marched them over to the food, stopping by wherever Kon had lured Tim over to dump their bags on them.

They winded up on a bench under a tree that dropped leaves every few minutes, swaying with the wind. Jon held a warm funnel cake in his hands, Damian reaching over to tear a piece off for himself every now and then. They were close together, bundled in coats and scarves and gloves.

“This was fun, wasn't it?” Jon spoke, breaking the cozy science they had settled into, save for the slurping of hot chocolate and the rustle of a bag of kettle corn the two had between them.

“More than i expected.” The other boy admitted, only slightly regretting it when he turned to receive a smug grin thrown his way.

Somehow, he couldn't muster up the energy to be properly angry, feeling a flush of warmth at the way Jon beamed at him.

“Told you so.”

“Yes, okay, gloat all you want.” Domain grumbled, jostled to the side as Jon elbowed him and laughed, slinging an arm around him and pulling the shorter boy to his chest.

“Jonathan!” He let out an undignified squawk as he kept his hot chocolate in the air to keep it from spilling.

“Shush, let me have a moment of glory.”

It was…odd, in a sense, the comfortable warmth that radiated from them both as they curled into one another on the bench, watching the carnival go by.

“Hey, Dames?”

“Mm?”

“Wanna go on the Ferris Wheel?”

“Sure.”

It took a moment, but eventually Damian pulled away from Jon and Jon stretched out, gathering the wrappers and tying the large forgotten bag of kettle corn.

They dropped their trash in a garbage can and left the popcorn with their older brothers, along with a strict warning not to eat it.

In a move that seemed as natural as breathing, Jon took Damian's hand, and not letting go, gave their tickets to the person taking them and led him to a cart.

It was quiet, the wind brushing through their hair as the taller boy put an arm around the shorter one. Damian let himself lean on his shoulder as Jon murmured softly, pointing out all the things they could see from the tippy top.

Eventually they were lulled to silence by the soft turning of the large wheel, Jon’s chin laying on Damian's head, their hands still entwined. 

Something was growing between them, something beautiful and new and different. They could talk about it later, though, perfectly content with the way things were at that moment.

After all, it was fall. And fall was a time for change, for love, and for anything else it might bring. 

They didn't have to worry about anything but the two of them, assured that in that moment, no matter what happened, they would always have each other.

Dmaian and Jon.

The Super Sons.

for @super-sons-week-2023

[neonponders]

Part 17 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🐬

Part 16

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Billy leaned against his car, exhaling a stream of silver-blue smoke like a chimney into the night sky.

“Biwwy! Biwwy, hi!”

“See, Stevie? He bweathes firwe! Can you bweathe firwe? I wanna twy!”

Billy chuckled as Steve approached. He exhaled another stream, lips softly puckered as he greeted, “Hey, chipmunks.”

He tapped his cigarette in one hand to loosen the ash, but with the other he reached forward to offer the little ones a finger. They held onto him with smiling faces. “You’re looking fresh.”

“We wode bikes!” little Steve exclaimed. “And Hop got us new cwothes!”

“Already?” he crooned.

Little Billy added, “Course aweady! We’rwe fast!”

Billy listened but his eyes had drifted up to Steve. He raised the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Last puff for a rough day?”

“You’re so generous,” Steve sassed, but he glanced down at his pocket, “This is a bad idea,” and took the filter between his own fingers. His lips found the indentions already made from Billy’s mouth.

The silence from his pocket felt foreboding. Then, as he exhaled hot, blissful nicotine, he heard, “We can totawwy bweathe firwe.”

“We’wll be spicy.”

Steve announced, “Not allowed,” as they pivoted toward the store.

Small Billy shrieked, “Why not? ”

Large Billy teased, “Yeah, why not?”

Steve sighed at the sky and warned, “This is the only taste you get.”

His breath was hardly smoke at this point, but the littles grimaced at the smell he blew over their heads. Small Steve complained, “Biwwy smewlls betterw than that.”

Small Billy agreed, “Thewre must be somethin’ we don’t get. Biwwy, what’s the twick to bweathing fiwre?”

The cigarette filter got flicked into the trash can outside the store as Billy said, “You need big lungs for fire.”

The small one lamented, “Ugh! What a cop out!”

Big Steve offered, “Wanna trade shirts?”

“YEAH!” they roared, earning a blurted laugh from Billy. Once in his shirtfront, it was like the night had been reset.

“Hi, Biwwy.”

“Hey, Harrington. You good in there?”

“Yeah!”

“What’s dinnewr?” little Billy asked.

“We’ll see what’s on the shelves.”

“What’s it like, wife-guawrding a big pool?”

“Do you fight any shawrks?”

He chuckled deep in his chest as he grabbed a basket, only to pause at the noise of Steve with a cart. “There’s a budget here.”

“You’re not paying for everything,” Steve defended, “and I like to ride the carts.”

Billy hummed a dubious sound but returned the basket. “Sharks are in the ocean, not pools.”

Small Billy said, “But we watched a big pool with shawrks.”

That gave Billy pause. “Like an aquarium?”

Steve confirmed as they strolled through the fresh produce, “They like animal documentaries. What crunchy water are we trying tomorrow?”

“NO!” small Billy chided.

“These.”

Steve turned around to see Billy waving open a bag next to the pile of peaches. He picked one up and gave it a sniff, before holding it for the littles to smell. Small Steve said dreamily, “That smwells good.”

Little Billy’s features pinched in a skeptical frown. “What makes this one speciawl?”

“Have a little faith. Chances are good that you’ll like them since they’re my favorite.”

A small smile warmed big Steve’s face as he let Billy take the wheel for the little ones. They listened, enraptured, as he shared, “I saw a shark while surfing, once.”

“No way!”

“Werwe you scawred?”

“I didn’t really have time to be scared,” he said while invading Steve’s space to look over the paper list in his hand. If Steve's eyes crossed a little bit at the wave of sunscreen, tobacco, and citrus that came off of Billy and infused his senses, he blinked rapidly to fix it.

“Did it chomp chomp somebody?” small Billy asked.

The bigger one laughed. “No, it got scared off by some dolphins.”

“Dawphins?” little Steve repeated.

“Yeah. They’re like the wolf packs of the ocean. Way scarier than sharks, who swim alone.”

“We don’ swim awone!” little Steve realized. “We’wre dawphins!”

But little Billy ventured in a more cautious tone, “Do you swim awone, Biwwy?”

“I liked surfing alone, but only at sunrise and sunset.”

Billy didn’t realize what was being asked until little Steve consoled, “You’rwe not a wonely shawrk, Biwwy. With Stevie, you’rwe a dawphin. Way coowler. Shawrks don’t scarwe us.”

Small Billy gazed up at his bigger self. “Werwe you scarwed of the dawphins?”

“I got the hell out of there, if that’s what you’re asking. They had little dolphins they were protecting. Sometimes the ocean’s not big enough to share.”

Little gasps got pointed in Steve’s direction. He defended, “I told you he can take care of himself. He looks pretty good in one piece to me.”

Billy smirked as the littles agreed. “I’m gwad you werwen’t chomped, Biwwy.”

“I’d be sad if Biwwy got chomped.”

Steve’s brows furrowed, unsure why he heard something in their tone that he couldn’t read -

Billy sure could, and answered it. “Don’t get any ideas. Dolphins are strong because they look out for one another. Don’t be vigilantes.”

Small Billy scoffed, “What the heck’s a vigiwante?”

“Somebody who does dangerous stuff alone,” big Billy cornered.

“But you do dang’wous stuff alone!”

“I’m big. I can do that from time to time.”

Little Steve whined, “But we wanna be stwong too. So Biwwy and Stevie don’t have to be scawred.”

“Then you won’t be dolphins, you’ll be sharks,” he outsmarted.

But Steve picked up, “Even sharks have pilot fish."

Billy blinked softly, considering that. Before he could agree or refute, Steve finished, "We stick together, right?”

“Right,” echoed the voices from Billy’s pocket.

Steve added, “Then you guys be strong. Billy and I will be scary.”

Billy laughed, “You’re the least scary person in Hawkins.”

“And yet you have foggy memories of Max using my baseball bat.”

Billy’s smile evaporated. “That was yours? You’re joking.”

“Dude, I wish. Every time it rolls around my trunk, I want to throw it into the lake.”

“Don’t say that now. You’re finally interesting.”

“Finally? Why were you riding my ass during basketball, then?”

Billy grinned, but before he could respond, they both heard murmurs behind them and rotated to point stoic glares at a couple of middle-aged women. They jumped like hens with ruffled feathers and moved along. Billy scoffed, “I didn’t realize church let out this late.”

“Bridge tournaments run late,” Steve concurred.

“What’s bwidge?” small Billy asked.

“It’s a card game.”

“Is it fun?”

“I prefer backgammon.”

“Oh yeah?” big Billy taunted. “Are you better with dice than a basketball?”

“You play mean, and yeah. I can hustle at backgammon.”

“We’ll see about that later,” Billy laughed and body-checked Steve out of the way to steer the cart. He gave it a push and stepped on the rail between the rear wheels to ride it down the length of the store to the butcher’s counter. The littles giggled and whooped at the rush of air in their faces.

Steve didn’t stop the smile on his face as he frisbee-tossed bacon and sausage packages into the cart. The shelves were out of ground meat, so he waited for the butcher to grind up some while Billy returned from the freezer section with beer and -

“Is that frozen pie dough?”

“Yeah? What’s the matter?” he challenged.

“Nothing,” Steve quickly retreated. “I never guessed that you bake.”

“I make a mean pot pie, Harrington. It’ll knock your tits off.”

Billy smiled, ready and waiting for Steve’s retort -

“No!” little Billy interrupted. “Don’t hurwt Stevie’s chest. I sweep there.”

Steve offered a finger for the littles to hold while he reassured, “He’s just spitting hot air...” He pressed the rest of his fingers against Billy’s shirtfront. “Wow, you do run hot, though.”

“What’d I say about feeling me up?”

“Well, nothing, yet.”

Steve’s eyes darted between the movement of Billy’s swallow and, by now, a very familiar rosy flush to his cheeks. A small smile lifted Steve’s features before he could stop it, but he removed his hand to give him some space.

As they finished their lap around the store with the dairy wall, Steve diverted, “B, which yogurt do you like so far?”

“The owange one.”

Steve looked at big Billy, who frowned curiously. Steve explained, “That’s the peach flavor. Good choice. Stevie?”

“Pink!”

“Peach and strawberry,” he narrated as the tubs were set inside the cart...

A loud commotion in the middle of the store suggested that someone had knocked over a display. Steve laughed softly, “I expected us to be the noisy ones, especially with you popping wheelies.”

But as they came around and walked toward the cash registers, they looked down the cereal aisle where a familiar blur of dark hair and denim was putting boxes back on the shelves before rushing out of sight.

“What’s Munson’s malfunction?” Billy asked.

“Hopper said that he’s been acting strange. Stranger than usual.”

Billy thought over that and said, “He’s not one to enjoy his own merchandise.”

“You deal with Eddie Munson?”

“He travels for music stuff,” Billy confirmed, “which means a decent variety in kush.”

“Huh,” Steve reconsidered. “I never tried hitting him up. I figured he’d probably charge me a small fortune.”

“I sure would,” Billy confirmed.

“What part of Scoops Ahoy and Family Video makes me look like I sweat money?”

“It’s daddy’s beamer you’re driving,” Billy smirked, and pulled the end of the cart into a cashier lane. He dropped a plastic barrier onto the conveyor belt to separate what he and Steve paid for, but for all his talk, Billy put the meats and peaches on his side. Steve offered, “You’ve got all that?”

“Don’t ask me that again.”

Steve held up the yogurt defensively on its way to the conveyor belt.

[tlouxobsessed]

“College Friends”

Abby x Ellie

Summary - Abby Anderson is starting College, she meets her new roommate. They suddenly have a spark, a connection like no other.

——————————————————

i packed my last few shirts into the brown boxes my dad left on my bed. i walked over to my bedroom door reading the sign i had made when i was nine. "abby's room stay out or else..."

i walked over carrying out the last few boxes, packing them into my car. i sat down in the drivers seat clutching the wheel tightly while putting my head back onto the dead rest letting out a sigh of relief.

i was finally all packed and ready to start heading to college, i hadn't gotten my dorm assigned yet. i knew once i got there i'd see a few people from the meet and greet last week. i couldn't get one girl out of my mind weirdly enough.

she was a few inches shorter than me, auburn hair, up to her shoulders a little above. greenish-bluish eyes. freckles, a tat on her forearm. she was wearing a flannel and some old looking jeans. some black dirty converse and had a cocky smile. she was hot. but i didn't bother talking to her much. until i went over to the table assigned where you apply for dorms. i signed and i had seen her signing right before me.

"ellie williams" the paper yelled back at me.

ellie? what a cute name.

i couldn't really stop thinking about her. anyways i stopped at my nearby subway to quickly get some lunch before i was on the road. i was honestly pretty exhausted after today. i was so ready to plop into my new bed and not move for hours.

i pulled into the spot where my dorm was apparently located. i approached the large double doors expected the usual crowd, the group of diverse people.

the usual preppy white girls, jocks, smart people that actually care about their grades. frat boys, frat girls ya'know? them. some lesbians here and there but nothing crazy.

i walked over to the front desk ringing the bell, my finger tips sweaty sticking to the top of the copper material. "hi hun, first and last name?" i looked at the woman at the front desk studying her. she was around 5'2, southern accent. short brown hair laying just above her shoulders. her crystal blue eyes screaming at me and her pencil thin eyebrows sharp enough to slice through the thick awkwardness of this moment.

"oh sorry...abby anderson." i finally spat out, touching my hand to my head wiping off the beads of sweat that had collected across my forehead.

"room 2204, your roommate should already be there. there are some carts if you'd like to help carry up your stuff. none of those fancy hotel ones, just wooden and plastic ones love." i thanked the woman.

i put my four small boxes, two backpack fulls and a couple pairs of shoes i brought into the grey plastic bin. i pressed the number "6" on the elevator brining me up. the silence of the elevator giving me an uneasy feeling.

i quickly made my way into my door, holding my key tightly in my hand slipping it into the key hole. i walked in to find just some boxes and two trash bags. i decided not to be a weirdo and mind my own business.

i unpacked into my small brown dresser and put some plain white and grey striped bedding onto my small twin sided bed. once unpacked i laid upon the bed immediately drifting into some sort of sleep.

"oh shit sorry" the sound of the door slamming shut woke me immediately. i jumped up clutching my chest then brushing it off once i saw the girl from the meet and great.

her short auburn hair looking perfectly smooth, hee soft plump lips poking out just enough. her green eyes staring into mine as i snapped back into reality.

"oh you're all good, i'm abby- you?" i asked puzzled on whether to add that i think i had seen her prior to this awkward encounter.

"well hey abby, im ellie..williams. i guess we're roommates?" i nodded then stood up stretching. the hem of my shirt lifting a little above my bellybutton as i raised my arms into the hair yawing.

i walked over to the door locking it so i could get settled for the night. we had a small stove, counter top, sink and microwave. a toaster too that i had brought from home. we had a small bathroom as well, this college was more upper class, i was asked if i'd like the "mini house option" and of course i chose this one. the shower could fit two people comfortable if they squeezed together, a toilet and a smaller sink. nothing crazy but just enough for me and my roomie.

"are you stayin' in for the night?" ellie asked me looking over to the front door where i was standing.

"oh yeah i am, you?"

"yeah me too, what are you majoring in?" she asked me.

"oh um honestly i wanted to be in veterinary, well i am. i like animals and taking care of them so- i mean why not ha" i chuckled awkwardly touching the back of my neck.

she smiled back then replying, "i'm majoring in english arts, i enjoying playing music and drawing. shit like that ya'know?"

i nodded then grabbing a towel out of one of my boxes.

"hey ellie i brought 10 or so towel and a few cloths, you can use some if you'd like. i'm gonna go shower now but see ya after? we can talk more if you aren't already knocked." i walked over to the bathroom opening the door then shutting it. my heart beating a mile per minute. she was insanely hot. the way she smirked at me slyly when i shut the door.

i opened it once i was done, the hot steam rushing into the much colder room. i had on a pair of navy blue boxers and a black wife beater. i didn't bother having a sports bra on, i was going to bed so i didn't see a point. i hopped into bed, quickly glancing over at the very concentrated ellie. she was grilling at her phone, her brow furrowed in anger and exhaustion.

"you good?" i asked puzzled. she jumped not realizing i came out of the bathroom because of the darkness from the room. the room only lit by the slight moonlight peaking in from behind the blackout curtain i had put up.

"oh ya uh my girlfriend she's just being insane and weird" she replied going mute again.

i decided we weren't close enough for me to ask so i decided to leave things off on a positive note.

"i'm sorry, if you ever wanna like talk about it i'm uh here?" i said not meaning to add a question mark at the end of that sentence. i felt my face flush with a bright red palming my face once again.

"thanks abby, could i have your number? ya'know in case i'm ever locked out ha." she replied. i responded giving her it putting a contact into my phone.

"ellie williams dorm girl" i put making me laugh a little.

i turned over facing the wall, she has a girlfriend? i wonder how long they'd been together? whatever abby just go to bed i said to myself as i drifted off into a deep sleep.

I glanced over at the empty bed on the opposite side of the room, she was gone? maybe she had class. I dunno, not gonna put too much thought into it I reassured myself. I stumbled up, smashing my finger against the "shut off" button on my phone silencing the blaring alarm. 

My phone read "7:55" I knew I had to be quick, my first class started at 10:15 but I'd like to grab some breakfast and shit before going there. It was a three hour long block so I was going to become restless. I figured I'd come home around 1:30ish and hit the gym, hopefully I'd see Ellie at one point. I threw on a white T-shirt, some mildly ripped whitewashed jeans and my air forces. My hair looks like shit so I just braided it and laid it on my right shoulder. 

I picked up my backpack throwing it over my shoulders, it was a clothy material, my dad got me it when he found out I was going all the way to California from Seattle. My pack was brown and quite large, I could fit a good two full sized winter coats comfortably. I made sure I had everything I needed. 

"Okay Abby let's see wallet, keys, car keys, books, pencils, pens-" I looked over to see the door opening. It was Ellie and another girl, the girl was maybe two inches shorter than Ellie. She had brown eyes and short black hair. Maybe this is the girlfriend? I wondered as the two rambled before Ellie noticing my presence. "oh sorry abby, I thought you'd be gone by now" she replied with a slight smile out of embarrassment. The shorter girl took a step towards me moving Ellie out of the way, she held out her hand waiting for me to take it back. "Well hello, I'm Cat, Ellie's girlfriend. You must be the "roomie." She replied looking a little flustered. "uh yeah sorry guys but I got to go, I have class at 10, see ya later though?" I said awkwardly releasing my hand away from Cat's and heading towards the door. I shut it behind me letting out a sign of relief. I hurried into my car and started making my way to the nearest Cumberland Farms. 

~ Ellie point of view ~ 

I shook my head out of aggravation towards Cat. "Are you fuckin' happy now?" I asked practically yelling at her. "You didn't tell me she was MASCULINE. You had me thinking you were sharing a room with some pretty, lil' fem." Cat replied chuckling to herself. "Jesus Cat, even if she was some "pretty little fem" I wouldn' do that to you." I said Immediately embarrassed for being soft. "Aw El that's sweet, but I gotta get going, love you." She said her goodbyes kissing my on the cheek and leaving the room. I honestly didn't mind Abby, maybe I'd invite her to Jesse and Dina's party? She doesn't seem to have many friends, or bitches. Maybe she'd find somebody, ya'know what? lemme just go for it. I pulled out my phone not thinking it through completely. 

me - hey do u wanna go to my friends party tn? 

I pressed send quickly glancing at the time "10:35" shit she's already in class that's why she isn't answerin-

abby - sure! what time?

Oh she is able to answer? anyways I picked up my phone opening the chat right away, I began typing. 

me - 8 u can ride w me and cat tho if u want

she sent back a thumbs up emoji I laughed at the stupid character then walked over to her stack of towels grabbing one. I undressed and stepped into the shower feeling the hot water running down the peak of my back, my body arching when the hot liquid hit it. I finished washing up then threw on some sweats and a black sweatshirt I was assuming is Jesse's then laying down finally I was able to get some sleep. 

~later on~

I woke up to some mumbling, I looked over at Abby who was wearing a dark grey button up and some black jeans, her hair was down and she had on a backwards hat on. I kept staring until she looked back at me in the mirror catching my stares. "you should probably get ready, it's already 6:45" she said replying to my stares. "oh yeah hah" I stood up stretching my arms, I waddled over to my dresser grabbing out a reddish flannel, a white wife beater and some ripped jeans. I grabbed my clothes about to reach the hem of my shirt until I realized Abby was right there. I picked up my clothes carrying them into the bathroom. I threw them on along with some white socks. I looked into the mirror at my mess of a hair. I decided on leaving it down with just a small amount of it in a bun. I slipped my shoes on, grabbed my keys and looked over at Abby who had been sitting on her bed texting somebody. 

"Who ya textin'?" I asked not even realizing what I said until after the words had spurted out of my mouth like vomit. She looked up at me the smile fading, "Oh my friend Lev." Whose Lev I wondered. "Ready?" I asked looking at Abby who nodded in return. We got into my car, my aux connected immediately. Or Nah started blasting. 

"Do you like the way I flick my tongue or nah?" I bursted out laughing pressing the shuffle button on my phone.  "Oh um" Abby said holding up a pare of purple panties, she pinched the top of them holding them away from her. I laughed and grabbed them out of her hand, tossing them into the back seat. "Sorry HA." 

"So no Cat?" Abby asked after five minutes of deadly silence. I glanced in my rearview mirror checking for cars then continuing to pass. "Nah she wanted to go with some of her friends, I don't really like her friends but honestly we haven't been doing that great together either ya'know?" Abby agreed then I had to ask the question. "Have you ever dated somebody before?" I asked biting down on my tongue from embarrassment. "yeah I fucked a few girls, a guy or two but I dunno guys aren't really my thing. The only for real relationship I've been in was with this girl and uh it didn't end too well so hookups and one nightstands have been my thing for two years." The tension in the car became thick, I choked down a cough them decided to pry a little more. "What was her name?" Abby paused not saying anything. "Fuck Ellie" I cursed myself. "Sorry was that too much-" "no, It's fine, her name was Sam. How about you? any girls besides Cat?" Abby replied. I breathe out a sigh of relief knowing I didn't fuck anything up any more. "Uh no, I had a crush on one of my old friends Riley, fucked with a few girls here and there but nah. Cat was my first for the most part ha" I chuckled as we pulled up to Jesse's house. 

Jesse and Dina had been together since we were just 14, she loves him, he loves her. They made me believe in love. Dina is 20 and Jesse is 21. I'm 19. They live together while both going to college, the same one I go to. We all hangout a lot and they throw parties every other week. I love my friend's, they don't live too far. Maybe like 10-15 minutes away. Thankfully the car ride was shirt but felt like eternity because of the awkwardness. 

We walked into the house, lots of people already there. I walked over to Dina and Jesse. "hey guys! this is my roomie Abby" I said smiling and gesturing towards her. "well helloooo there" Dina said with a flirtatious smirk. "Uh hey what's up guys?  hah" Abby touched the back of her neck nervously and a little uncomfortable with Dina's full on flirting. "sorry Abby don't mind Dina, she's drunk and flirts with everybody. I'm Jesse" He held out his hand waiting for her ti shake it. "I'm gonna go grab something to drink, want anything Ab?" I asked. The muscular girl turned her head towards me, her muscle flexing in the darken lighting, was she always that attractive? I asked myself. 

~ Abby Point of view ~

"Hello?? Ellie? I said yes" I replied watching her stare into space, I looked behind me checking to make sure she wasn't looking at somebody else but sure enough it was me. "sorry what do you want?" Ellie's toned dried once she came out from her trance, her sudden demeanor towards me turned sour. I bit down on my tongue in an attempt to keep myself from letting tears roll. I wasn't super sensitive but weirdly enough for her I was. I choked my tears down in an effort to pull myself together. "uh whatever just get me something strong" I replied turning away. I searched around the room looking for a possible hookup for the night. A girl caught my eye, she was around 5'7 a nice height. She had curlyish dark brown hair that fell right above her breasts. She was wearing a small tight black skirt, a small purple shirt with thin spaghetti straps. She was pretty, I couldn't exactly see her eye color, all I saw was the side of her. She had a cute button nose, plump lips and a pretty smile. Her eyebrows were perfectly shaped. 

I walked over to the group near her, I heard her laughing. Even her laugh was cute, I walked closer to the cute girl, her friends walked away getting the hint that I was checking her out. "Hey, can I get you a drink?" I asked giving a small smirk after the quick attempt of a flirt. She turned to me, her cute button nose covered in freckles, her dark brown eyes bringing out the freckles. "Well hello there, you may, but could I get a name first?" The pretty girl asked me. "Abby, and you?" I returned. "Maya, can I ask you a question Ms.Abby?" she puzzled. "Yes shoot it." "What is a hot girl like you doing all alone, single I'm assuming, at a college party?" I chuckled at the stupid questions. "Well Maya I am single, very much. And my roomie invited me here." "Nice, now where's my drink?" Maya asked. We chatted the night away. Nothing too sexual, mostly just some flirting, talking about majors, jobs, schools, friends, then I decided to ask a more intriguing question. At this point the alcohol was speaking for me. "Can I get your number Ms.Maya?" I asked. "You may" She tore off a piece of red napkin scribbling down a number. I looked around searching for my ride before I felt someone suddenly pulling on me. "wanna dance?" Maya asked, I now knew the alcohol was speaking for her as well. 

Maya pulled me onto the dance floor, she guided my hands towards her hips. I held onto her as she turned around and starting moving her hips in a way I had never seen no other woman do before. I felt my face go bright red as she put her hands onto my chest dragging them down, she went down slowly then got back up. She moved closer putting her hands on my face pressing her lips against mine. She slipped her tongue into my mouth swirling it with mine, they intertwined, in sync we both kissed each other back passionately until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned around to see Ellie, she was bright red. She looked furious. "It's time to head out Abby." I pulled away from Maya. "I'll text you!" I drunkingly slurred my words as Ellie dragged me away from Maya. I felt Ellie lead me into the car sitting me down pulling the car out of park and driving us back home. 

The tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife. "What the fuck Abby? I bring you to one of my friend parties and you're all over some bitch?" my mouth fell open. "What the FUCK ELLIE. YOU CANNOT BE MAD AT ME WHEN YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND-" She pulled over the car. 

We were now sitting two blocks away from the dorms, she pulled into a parking lot making sure the car was out of sight. Ellie leaned over and pull my face towards her, looking down to my bottom lip then up to meeting my gaze. She pushed her lips against mine, our face's intertwine in usion. I wrapped one of my hands around Ellie's neck releasing a slight moan. I smirked then pulling away from the kiss gesturing to Ellie to take her clothes off. 

She took her shirt off, we both headed to the back seat now. I pulled off the now stained white T I had put on under my grey button up. We both continued to swap spit until I reached my hand down further. My hand brushing against her warm thigh caused a slight chill to go down Ellie's spine, I watch as she tingled at the sudden wave of cold. I slipped my fingers past her underwear. She grabbed my hand before I could continue. "No" she said quickly pushing my arm away, flipping me up onto the back seat so I was now laying down. The auburn haired girl pushed my legs apart. She pulled my jeans then boxers off. She quickly slipped a finger in. 

Ellie was edging me, she slid it in then out but slighly pressed up leaving me wanting and needing more. "Ellie please" I moaned. "please what?" She asked looked up at me. "fuck me Ellie." She finally stuck her two fingers in completely. A moan escaping my mouth as I couldn't help it. my heart was racing. She quicken the pace then adding her tongue into the equation.She went faster and faster until I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I could see my hot juices streaming down her fingers onto her hand. I released and let out a loud moan gripping Ellie's head in the process. 

"jesus Ellie" I said as she pulled her fingers out and rested them on her tongue licking off any of my excess. "What about cat?" I asked.

"Uhh I dunno ha." Ellie said as she pressed "shuffle" on her phone. 

"...ahha i'm smoke this joint then-" 

we both looked at each other laughing. 

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

I hope you guys enjoyed this ;) This is my story off of wattpad but I know a lot of people don’t have it. I’ll probably be posting more of my one shots Ellie x Abby on here for all you Ellab shippers :) Have a great day loves

[foone]

I dreamed I went to a college campus because there had been some kind of computer swap meet thing the day before, and someone sent me a picture showing that a ton of good shit just got thrown out unsold at the end.

Since it was Sunday, I figured the janitors weren't gonna be there emptying the trash cans, so I could probably recover some of that stuff.

I got there and it was surprisingly busy for a Sunday. I even checked my phone several times, yep, it was Sunday, but eventually I realized that my phone was broken somehow. It was Monday.

Anyway I didn't get a location for where the trash was so it was a little puzzle, trying to figure out what building it was, by matching the stairways of the lobby behind it.

And then the whole electronics dumpster diving project got dropped because I discovered the Dark Secret of the college, where some evil zoo owner was keeping a boy captive? So I put him in a wheeled cart and we had a high-speed rollerblading chase out of the combination college/zoo, to freedom.

[trash-monkey]

Little Brother

Chapter 3

Once finished eating brother throws away our trash into a bin while Takashi settles me into his arms, not really wanting to risk me getting lost on our way around the mall before we finally walked through the sliding doors of a child store and Takashi sits me into the seat of a chart.

"Cold." I gasped when my bear legs touched the cold metal of the shopping cart causing both to chuckle before Takashi started pushing the cart down a clothing aisle with brother tailing behind, Takashi takes a look at the tags on my clothes for size since brother didn't know when asked.

"There's goes my wallet once again." Brother muttered at watching Takashi put things into the cart, pairs of three long sleeve shirts, short sleeve shirts, pants, shorts, underwear, shocks, one pair of flip flops, sandals and shoes are put into the cart with the thought of getting more at a later time.

"Which one do you like?" Takashi asked me while holding up two different colored pacifiers after we moved on from the clothes, I point at the baby blue one before I noticed brother has disappeared.

"Bu?" I muttered while searching around causing my already attached heart to drop at no sight of him, I turn to Takashi with glazed eyes and bottom lip in mouth trying to stop myself from crying but unwilling a tear rolls. With a 'oh no' expression Takashi quickly removes me from the carts seat and settle me into his arms where I nuzzled my face into his neck, the only thing he hears are sniffles while trying to clam me down with back rubs.

"What's wrong?" Jerking my head towards brothers voice, I immediately reached out to him and give his shirt a death grip once in his arms.

"He got upset when he didn't see you and I guess he thought you left him." Takashi replied, brother sighed through his nose as he rubs my back and lean his head next to mine.

"I'm sorry, I'll never abandon you." He whispered to me while giving me a light squeeze before turning me in his arm to show me a light teal colored stuff dragon in his other hand, wiping the water out of my eyes I give brother a pout and side eye basically say 'you scared me with your disappears for this?'.

"Sorry. I just went to take a look around and saw this little guy, thought you'll like him." He laid a kiss on my head, I sniffed one last time and accepted the stuff dragon as a apology before laying my head back on his chest to listen to his heart beat. The rest of the shopping went smoothly as I stayed in brothers arms the whole time and before I know it we're standing outside the mall a few blocks away saying bye to each other.

"Bye bye, Ashi." Takashi laughed at my nickname for him before he says he's own byes to us and we parted ways, I realize once we're back in brothers room in the brothel that he's strong since he carried me and the multiple bags all the way back here. While he puts everything away I noticed a large dumbbell sitting next the shelf after searching around the room for something to do, I crawled over from my seat in the center of the room and give it a experimental push which it easily rolled since the weights are acting like wheels. Brother smiled softly when he takes a glance to see me pushing his dumbbell around the room as a imaginary car causing him to stop mid way of putting the last few of my newly bought things away to remove his phone from his pocket to take a short video of me crawling throughout his room with his dumbbell.

"We're going to another friend of mine." Brother revealed after he stick the new pacifier into his pocket before we left the brothel once again but this time we head twords the parking lot and approach a Kawasaki Zephyr 400 motorcycle with a similar design as brothers tattoo.

"Cool" I gasped which he smiled at my excitement of the bike before sitting me onto it with him getting behind me.

"Hold on tight" He ordered which I immediately followed before he started the engine and we're off, brother stops at a old japanese style house with what looks like a dojo near. Slightly scared I take a hold onto brothers pant leg once we're off the motorcycle and I trail behind him while walking up to the house.

"Mikey!? I got your dorayaki!?"Brother calls out after we step through the front door and pulled our shoes off, I hide behind brothers leg when I hear running and see a short blond teen slid around a corner towards us when taking a peek around the leg. Brother hands the bag of pastries over to the blond he got on our way here and the teen quickly caught sight of me when I hide again while putting a pastry into his mouth causing him to ask who I am.

"Little Brother" Brother simply answered while the blonde kneel down to my level but for some unknown reason I find myself not liking him, I hold back from my face turning into discomfort.

"Wook ovr there!" I gasped in fake shock while pointing in a random corner of the house to distract him which luckily worked and I immediately went into run away mode, my feet slap against the wooden floor are the only sounds of my escape. Leaving the short blonde to pout while brothers face shows he's unamused but finds it secretly funny, I take a turn into a living room to find a older black haired man sitting on a couch with another on the opposite couch.

"Where did you come from, little man?" He asked once he takes notice of me and lay in his arms after being sit on his lap when I hold my arms up to him.

"Hey" Brother calls out when he steps into the room with the still pouting blond teen beside him.

"Is this little man with you?" After confirming brother once again tells what our mother did causing the man to be angry but it quickly dispell when he sees it causing me to squirm.

"Well Ren, I'm Shinichiro and this man over here is Wakasa." The older man introduced himself and his friend which I responded much to my brothers surprise, I've been quite so far unless spoken to.

"Helwo, Shin and Waka." I yawned in tiredness which Shin committed on but brother tells him that I have already taken a nap earlier causing the man to sigh in realization.

"The reason why he's sleeping so much is probably because he wasn't being fed enough by the way he's almost on the scary side of skinny, clearly that woman didn't want him." Before Shin could said anything a old man walks in and said what he was going to say instead, everyone welcomes him.

"Hello I'm Mikey, can you say Mikey?" The blond teen kneels in front of me while Shin watches Mikey interact with me as brother and the elderly talk in a different part of the room but I turn away from him to hide myself under Shins shirt causing him to laugh at my action and probably at Mikey's pouty face. I can hear Mikey ask Shin why I don't like him and he responded with that he doesn't know but to give me time to get use to him.

'This body is weak and gets tried so easily but hopefully once I started eating regularly it's be solved with time.'

I thought as another yawned escape from me before wrapping my limbs around the lean body of Shin like I did this morning with brother and stick my head out of the shirt to lay it under Shins chin.

"Me so sweepy." I mumbled while hearing Shins calm beating heart through his chest which is slowly putting me to sleep as my eyes drooping.

"It's ok, you can sleep I'll wake you for dinner." The last thing I heard before sleep taking over is his voice vibrating through his chest when he chuckled.

_______________________________________________

[hypnotisedfireflies]

What’s the funniest/dummest reason Tess or Joel knocked someone out. Like, did Tess ever really like someone’s shoes and Joel did her the favor ha.

Hahaha! Oh anon, you get a little ficlet. 🥰

You Haven't Seen Everything

Winter, 2021

"But getting out of Miami," Axel continued, placing another bag of cocoa on the scales, "that was something else. You ever seen infected on rollerblades? No? You haven't seen everything yet."

"Great, can you just concentrate on the merchandise, please?" Tess gestured to the pile.

"Oh sure, sure. Don't worry, I do this all the time."

Axel, with his shaved skull and toxic green mohawk bristling down the centre, gamely nodded at the scales as he pulled off the Ziploc bag and added it to the pile. He was a new contact. It had been worth travelling to this middling little New Hampshire town to meet him, but Joel was starting to think it wasn't worth the noise.

He leaned up harder against the wall like he could burrow his spine into the plaster and disappear. They were dealing in an old art supplies store, turned over and trashed, the wasted materials swept up against the walls like snowdrifts. Axel had set up a table in the bare centre and was scooping cocoa powder from a massive tin into the little bags, weighing them one by one. Tess sat opposite. Joel could see the patience sapping out of her with every breath Axel took.

But cocoa was a hot, rare property right now. It was the first time it had surfaced in the Boston QZ in years. Certainly not in the eleven since they'd made it home.

"I was hiding out in this Olive Garden? It was right on Miami Beach. All these infected staggering by on wheels. I just know that we got wheeled clickers down there. Board shorts and bikinis. That's something, right? Yeah, I seen some shit down there. I was in this golf club? You know the little carts?"

He looked between a silent Tess and a silent Joel.

"You know the buggies?"

Silence.

"Yeah. So there's these little buggies. You drive around the course on them. Just enough room for you, your buddies, your clubs. Make the caddy walk, though! The caddy, he goes after your balls. Not your actual balls, like your hairy gonads, but your golf balls. They hand you your clubs."

Joel slowly filled up his lungs. Axel slowly filled up the bags and carefully weighed them, one by one.

"I was hiding in this golf club. Beautiful place. Big ocean views. And we went to war, not against the infected, but against the club across the way! You talk about your gang wars, you know, but these rich old guys went to war with each other riding buggies like white Arab chargers. You ever seen old guys in polos whacking each other with putters out the side of a buggy? No? You haven't seen everything yet."

Tess stood up. "That's our cut. You're done?"

"Huh? What? Oh."

Disappointed, Axel watched Tess load her backpack up with the precious bags of cocoa. The trade - FEDRA-grade antiseptic, water purification tablets and a bottle of lube - sat on the edge of the table. Tess reshouldered the pack.

"Thanks. You know the frequency. Buzz us if you get something else interesting."

"Sure, sure. Let me show you out. So after the gold club, I thought that was too much for me, I got on this Greyhound bus. You know all the urban legends about them, right?"

Axel led them down the back, cheerful tongue wagging to the very end. Joel's chest began to lock up and his palms tingled.

"You ever take a Greyhound bus back in the old days? Overnight? Those were wild. You ever see that movie, Midnight Cowboy? Anyway I got on this bus. And you know who was on it? The Army of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You ever seen Mormons fighting the forces of Satan in sunny Tampa? No?"

Tess gave Joel a slight nod.

He grabbed Axel by the scruff of the neck and turned him ninety degrees. He banged his face against the wall, hard and just once. That was all it took. He let go and Axel's unconscious body slid bonelessly to the floor.

"You haven't seen everything yet," Joel muttered.

Tess lifted the bar on the door and they stepped outside into the crisp winter afternoon. They were going to have to book it if they'd make it back to their own Olive Garden before dark.