metal desk


Hello! Sorry I’ve been inactive for the past week – I’ve been coming home tired and feeling sluggish and I don’t know why ;;v;; I think I should try getting some proper sleep this weekend (usually I only get 3-5 hours a night) ;;v;;

I’ve received recent asks about the Zen Feels Train – please know that it will be updated after the holidays ^o^ Thank you for your interest ♥ I’m also working on some holiday artworks that I hope to finish before the month ends :D ((It’s super fun I hope you guys will like it ^__^))

I’m sorry for letting the messages pile up – I’m trying my best replying privately to some and I’m compiling the others for posting • v •;;; Feel free to resend your ask && tell me if you want a reply right away! I really appreciate all your messages and I’d like to thank you all for taking the time to brighten up my day ♥ ♥ ♥ Please give me a bit more time! Thank you!


VirusPhanAU! This is based off of @maddox-rider​ ’s AU and the art that goes along with it!

Part 1

~Part 2~

Part 3

Words: 1,769

“Dan!” PJ yelled from the top of the stairs as he heard the bell on the shop door jingle. He ran down the stairs before Dan could even reply, excited to see what he’d found.

“I found the usual, a SD card we can use, pieces that can fit on that old keyboard you have and a hard drive that was in fairly good shape, but that’s not really what I’m interested in right now.” Dan replied, tossing his bag onto the counter as he moved in behind to his computer that rest upon a metal desk that was too short for him. His desk chair wouldn’t fit under it and due to his height; it was difficult to work without hunching his back. PJ moved in behind him and straightening the bandana around his forehead so his hair was pushed back, allowing him to see better. Dan took the USB cable out once again and plugged his hard drive into the port, the wall in front of them coming alive like an old age computer screen.

“I see your memes, but what else have you got.” PJ mumbled, turning to read the file names. Childhood photos, left over documents from Dan’s law school days and blueprints for new technology that he was working on. The things contained within Dan’s computer represented his personality perfectly except for a few things. He didn’t have his memories stored on the hard drive and his character as a human being couldn’t be conveyed in sequences of ones and zeros. A computer wasn’t able to read his full personality although it sometimes tried.

“It’s an exe file. This guy was throwing away one of those AIs from the hospital and I downloaded the software.” Dan replied, wheeling his chair sideways and opening the folder with a wave of his hand.

“They still have those, don’t they?”

“Yea, but this is an older version.” Dan waved his hand again and moved the program to his own computer. “Back from the 30s.” The program, originally dubbed The Lester Program after its creator, began as a way to treat mental illness in patients in the United States before it was sold to governments to place in children’s hospitals and psychiatric wards across the world. It was famous for taking care of patients a way staff couldn’t. It was able to connect with its patient or user and aid in their recovery, but many people rejected in the beginning, Hollywood causing citizens to fear artificial intelligence. As the years went on and the Lester Program became more accepted by the generation it had aided, it was expanded to also teach and learn from patients to the point where it is now. The Lester Program now, as individual programs with different skills and personalities similar to humans, aid in homes of the rich as companions and personal healthcare workers. Users are now able to change the program’s appearance to what they desire and change their personalities to be more like their own.

“They were actually nice back then. Now they’re weird. I saw one as a holographic assistant to the Prime Minister and it was in the form of a woman. The new versions aren’t even being used for what they were created for.” PJ stepped closer to the screen and examined the file name

“Nothing is ever used for what is created for, though.” Dan replied.

“Why is it called Phil.exe?” PJ asked, clicking on the program.

“Wait!” Dan tried to stop him, but he was already too late as the computer began to make a small whining noise. The program was putting a strain on the system in order for it to run, but it was still able to read the file. “I was going to run anti-virus software on it, but I guess I’ll do that later.”

“Oh sorry.” Pj chuckled as the home screen flickered once and then went completely black. Dan feared he’d broken his favorite computer and sighed. “Maybe it takes a few minutes. Old tech doesn’t boot-up quickly.”

“They’re all called Lester when you first get them and then you can change their name so I would guess this belonged to someone before.” Dan looked at the black screen and sighed, sitting back in his chair. “This may take a while.” PJ looked down to him with a blank expression before agreeing.

“I’ll go get some pizza. The man gave me a coupon the last time I was in there.” PJ dumped the contents of Dan’s bag out onto the work bench to his right and grabbed his wallet from the back room.

“Don’t flirt with the pizza man.” Dan said before PJ had left through the front door.

“I don’t! He does!” PJ’s final words were shouted from in front of the shop window where he could see Dan sitting comfortably in his chair before he continued on down the street toward the pizza shop on the corner. The screen remained black as Dan grabbed the bottle of water that had fallen from his bag and took off his oversized jacket, shrugging into the hoodie that hung on the back of his chair.

Phil.exe was silent. Other than the presence of a subtle hum from the computer’s speakers to confirm its existence, Phil.exe did not appear. It was as if it was hiding from its new user in fear of being tossed out again, but the Lester program was unable to experience fear, something that set it apart from its human creators.

Dan couldn’t be sure of what was wrong. His mind continuously tried to come up with a solution as he waited for his early morning pizza. He turned in his chair and looked back to the black screen, an idea springing to mind. A separate hard drive and an older processing chip was all that he had nearby, but he wasn’t afraid to try. He unplugged his computer and then grabbed a screw driver, tinkering with the inner workings of what he cherished the most. Moving pass the salvaged parts and broken tools, Dan began to modify what already existed into something better, something more capable to handle to type of file he’d acquired. Phil.exe was not large, but for some reason it refused to work without newer software. He was puzzled to find that it wouldn’t run with the old software it would have been created with, but actually came alive with the newer chip developed a few years ago.

“Error.” The program’s voice made Dan jump out of his seat as he booted up his system again, startled by the fact that it was not his home screen that appeared first, but the program. Dan grabbed his Bluetooth from the desk and smiled, realizing he had actually gotten it to partially work.

“Hello?” He asked, wheeling back so he could see the screen fully.

Dan… Word appeared on the dark screen in bright blue, interesting him further. Why couldn’t it speak?

“How do you know my name?” He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

My prime directive is to analysis human emotions, personality and overall health in order to better take care of my assigned patient. Bright blue text continued across the screen. Your user is Dan. Full name: Daniel James Howell. Alternate name: Danisnotonfire.

“Why can’t I hear you?” Dan fiddled with the speakers, but their volume was up.

You wish to hear me? The text turned red for a moment and flickered before returning to its normal blue. Although he’d spoken to AIs before, Dan felt uneasy. Phil.exe knew who he was because of the contents of his computer, but he felt as if the program was hiding something from him.

“Yes. You are a Lester Program, are you not?”

I am. I was created to help those who are sick.

“I’m not sick-”

I see that. You saved me Dan. Without you I would be lost with the other trash that resides in the landfills.

“You’re not trash. You’re brilliant. Are you able to speak or do you choose not to?” Dan asked, patiently waiting for an answer.

“I am a program that does as it is commanded. You did not say for me to speak, therefor I didn’t.” The programs voice came through every speaker in the room, startling him once again. He recognized a slightly northern accent and jumped up, realizing that it sounded human. A male with a northern English accent. It was quite different from Dan’s posh English accent, but at least he knew it had come from within the country. The sound crackled as the program appeared to be slightly damaged, its voice becoming distorted with longer sentences.

“How did you do that?” Dan asked, covering his ears as e braced himself for the extremely loud answer.

“Please clarify.” Phil.exe replied.

“You’re using all the speakers, even ones that are not plugged into my computer.” Dan looked around to the equipment in his shop. There were many old and new computers ready to be sold to any paying customer and different technology for any tech savvy person who might walk in. The speakers on the far wall all seemed to be connected to the program although they weren’t even close to his desk.

“Everything in this shop is connected together through your internet router and I am able to travel through that signal.” The program replied. All the computer screens in the room turned black before radiating a bright blue text across them. See? Even Dan’s cellphone that sat on counter lit up with Phil.exe’s message.

“Can you only speak through the two connected to my computer?” Dan asked and the program apologized, returning to the one computer screen. “Do you have a name?”

“My name is Phil.” The program replied.

“Lester Programs have humanoid avatars.” Dan sat back down and looked to the blank screen in front of him.

“Do you wish to see me?” Phil asked.

“Yes.” Dan leaned back in his chair as the programs avatar appeared on the screen in front of him in 2D, a dark turquois outline of features, hair and a t-shirt similar to his own materializing before him. Phil smiled and Dan smiled back, his fear of the program fading as he realized that it was only an adorable healthcare AI. He was used to save lives, not hurt them. Hurting someone would mean going against its core programing.

“Do you wish to change my appearance?” Phil asked, his head tilting slightly to the side.

“No. I do not wish for you to change for me.”


Hey! Go check out @maddox-rider for the original AU and beautiful art to go along with it! Like if you would like me to continue onto part 3! Hope you like it so far! Thanks!

Armoire de Marriage dite «Aux Sphinges» is a 17th Century Marquetry cabinet attributable to Thomas HACHE (1664-1747). That cabinet-making provenance attribution, established upon the factual, which knows Thomas Hache was the only French cabinetmaker who had the idea to establish his marquetry using the scagliola Italian technique, which obtained from selenite, a heated plaster crumbled and crushed into a powder, mixed with water, builds an adhesive skin, which with coloured pigments, warmly affixed, facilitates the wood plating.  It was at the beginning of 1685 that the activity of Thomas Hache as a cabinetmaker at the court of the Dukes of Savoy in Chambéry, was established.  We find the same arms of Mirabeau Rochemore in a metal inlaid desk by Pierre Gole, around 1680, in the Museum of Fine Arts in Chartres; a  discovery, which strengthens the provenance hypothesis , since Thomas Hache (1664-1747) frequented Pierre Gole’s (1620-1684) atelier during his apprenticeship.

Courtesy HdV Monaco

rogue one: rebelcaptain headcanon: by any other name

- link to my other Rogue One blabberings -

(title taken from William Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet:

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet

disclaimer: unedited babble.)

cassian will ask her gently, with a tone calculated between casual and careful. his head is turned towards the glowing blue hologram of his growing child, but his eyes are trained unerringly to the side, to her. do you want to name him after your father? jyn will reach for her neck before remembering that her crystal now hangs from cassian’s. instead, she’ll lean forward to trace the cool metal of the desk on which the projection stands. her pinky will rest against his.

she stares at the recorded ultrasound (at her son, at their son) for a moment longer before answering: no, let them rest. they’re gone. they’ve done enough. her hand spasms. it’s enough.

(jyn loves her parents. jyn forgives her parents. jyn aches for her parents. she wishes that her mother would come visit her in her dreams again. she wishes she had grabbed her father’s message as jedha was obliterated. most of all, she wishes that they had fought sooner. all of them. in their misplaced trust, their fear, their rage, their love, they had waited to fight the empire.

when the intervening years between coruscant and scarif connected, the blood of billions pulsed from the erso name.

jyn has seen death a hundredfold since she was a child, and it is not possible for anything to survive that type of shock.)

jyn turns fully towards cassian and wraps her arms around him. she tilts her head back and watches the dance of blue light across cassian’s face. she smiles: small, hesitant, hopeful.

what was your little brother’s name?

their son carries the first and last name of a dead Festian boy.

he has his grandfather’s eyes.

- link to my other Rogue One blabberings -


By: ProMarvelFanGirl

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary:  You have been lying to Steve and you finally get tattled on.

Warnings: Fluff


You were sitting in an interrogation room staring at your reflection in the mirror.   You were asked by Sam and Nat to help with training the new recruits, so here you were.  All you knew was you were suppose to lie throughout the questions they asked you.  You weren’t an avenger, but you did help with the behind the scenes work and had some of the training the agents did.  

So here you were alone in a grey room, your hands folded on the metal desk.   You heard the cackle of the speaker coming to life.   You sat up a little straighter and focused your attention to the two way mirror in front of you.

Sam turns to face the group of agents in the observation room, noting that Steve had snuck in the room, he couldn’t help but shake his head.  Steve had a crush on you and he was not about to miss an opportunity to hear you speak or get to see you.  

Nat let a smirk fill her face, “Everyone has a tell when they lie.  Your job as an agent will require you at some point to go undercover.  You need to be prepared to be able to know when someone is giving you the correct intel or is lying to you.  This agent has a tell.  Figure it out.”

“Okay Is your name, Y/n.”  You heard Natasha’s smooth voice fill the room.

“Yes”  Truth

Keep reading

Desks in the Shinra Tower

Tseng keeps his desk immaculate.  Bare, even.  The wood is almost black, and it gleams, thanks to the few extra gil that he slips the custodial crew every week.  The surface of the desk has an embedded leather panel, and the dark red leather is almost silky to the touch.  The drawers in the desk are also almost empty, except for the two largest drawers on the bottom.  That’s where Tseng stores all of the files that he can’t be bothered to put back, and every so many weeks, he eventually has to spend a few hours filing, unless, of course, one of the Turks has done something to land them on desk work.

Reno uses one of the standard metal desks in the bullpen of the Turks’ floor, and old files litter the surface.  What most people don’t notice is that there’s nothing personal about Reno’s desk.  The only things there are the scattered shiny things that the other Turks put there, the ridiculously gaudy model of the Gold Saucer that Rude gave him, and the files he keeps there are not on his own jobs.  Only “research, yo.”  He works on his reports when he’s alone in the office, so that no one can watch him cross-reference his written grammar with the textbook he’s been studying.  The drawers of his desk, however, are filled with all kinds of things, from a change of clothes to snacks.

Rude’s desk is easily the messiest desk in the office.  There’s always at least two coffee cups on it and a half-consumed energy drink (Furied Bull is an office favorite), and in addition to the regular files, there’s additional paperwork regarding the management of the explosives the department uses.  Plus, it doesn’t help that every little thing that Reno has picked up and handed him throughout the course of their partnership seems to end up on his desk.  He stays about a week behind on his reports, thanks to the fact that he just hates doing his paperwork.

Elena has the worst desk in the bullpen, courtesy of being the Rookie.  One leg is shorter than the other three, and the desk is under the vent so that she’s too cold or too hot, depending on whether the air or heat is on.  But it’s also the desk that gives her a clear view of the Director’s door, and she learns a lot from watching as subtly as possible, so she doesn’t complain about it.  She decorates her desk with a standard issue set of supplies from storage: a pen holder (which is mysteriously filled with pens that have huge bright flowers on the end) and calendar (which ends up with every birthday and important date marked on it after a few days) and wire mesh file holder.  Her second day in the office, a frame appears on her desk, her Elite Emblems already pinned in place in it, and she leaves it where she can see it.  Where she can remind herself of everything that she’s sacrificed for this.

Reeve has no idea who picked out his desk.  It appeared in his office years ago, sometime shortly after he made Head of Urban Development, from the plain heavy wooden desk that had been in the office, to a sleek metal-framed one.  The desk has a pale blonde wood surface, and while normally it might be a bit plain, this particular one has a trick.  The entire top comes up and readjusts to double as a drafting table, and Reeve hates to admit it, but whoever picked out the desk for him knew what he needed.  He has set up a second, matching desk beside it to create a corner space, and printed reports with their handwritten notes often cover the surface.  There’s a potted plant in the corner, and whenever he gets a new one, he takes the old one to his mother in Five.  In the bottom desk drawer, Reeve keeps an expensive bottle of whiskey for when there’s a Turk in his office.

Rufus takes a page each from both Tseng and Reeve’s respective books: his desk is almost entirely bare of any personal effects, but there is always a tidy pile of reports with extensive handwritten notes.  His computer terminal is more front-and-center than the others because he spends more time handling emails and digital work.  He has a fancy docking system for his PHS and PDA that he rarely remembers to use.  Unlike the others, his desk drawers are always empty, and he makes certain that he keeps all of his essentials in his briefcase instead of in his desk.

Sephiroth can rarely see the surface of his desk.  There’s simply too many files that he’s always supposed to sign, too many things demanding his attention.  It doesn’t help that when he does get time to sit at his desk, he often spends that time skimming the pages of whatever novel Rufus has convinced him to read instead.  Once a month, when orders come down with that couched, delicate phrasing, asking him if he needs more time with those reports, he will break down and spend the whole night signing everything so it can finally leave his desk, but only if Rufus will come by and read to him.  He claims that it’s to let Rufus practice for the speeches he’ll one day deliver, but the truth is, Sephiroth simply likes hearing him talk.

anonymous asked:

im so confused that metal silver desk toy looks so painful???? wouldnt the pointy little diamonds cut your fingers???? yikes

I think they’re shaped in a way that when you grab them, they flatten out to the smooth side, so you’re never really touching the sides or the corners! (Unless you do on purpose lol)

I’m pretty sure the sides/corners aren’t as sharp as they look, either! Idk how to describe it, but I think the only way you could hurt yourself with it is if you grabbed one and poked yourself really hard with the corner!

I have no idea what I’m basing this off of since I don’t have one of them myself, but I think I’ve felt something really similar to it before, or had a toy like it or something! ^^;;

The Precinct- Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Maggie watched the African American female pace back and forth behind the massive metal desk. The woman sighed twice. She took off the khaki colored suit jacket and angrily put it on the back to the chair. She rolled up her sleeves and flexed her fingers. Lt. Angela Jones slammed her hand onto the top of her desk.

“Tell me again why the hell I shouldn’t suspend you Detective Sawyer.”

“I had further information-”. Maggie Sawyer started to explain.

“You know what I don’t wanna know.” The supervisor said as she put her hand on her hips.

“I’ve got McConnel complaining that you took his collar. I’ve got downtown every damn day calling my office wondering why the hell the Science Division seems to be passing off more cases to the Feds than ANY other unit in the department. Your squad Sgt. says you aren’t checking in with him like you should. ”

Maggie sat quietly in the chair with her hands folded in her lap.

Lt Jones sighed. “And I’ve got my best Detective letting Suspects go because of clerical issues.”

“I’m sorry LT.” Maggie said. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

Lt. Jones sat down in the leather chair behind the desk littered with paperwork.

“Sawyer. You were a rock star in Narcotics. You raised hell in Special Services. You have done exceptionally well here in the SD. But bottom line is we are a team. A unit. I know you’re used to running around on your own. I know what happened with your old partner…”

“That has nothing to do with-” Maggie interjected angrily.

The Lieutenant raised a hand to halt the argument.

“I have absolutely no desire to do this. But the brass are pushing me to make an example. You’re humping a post car for the next week. Uniformed patrol. Ride out the week. No complaints. You come home to the SD with no tick marks in your jacket and we go back to normal.”

Maggie but the inside of her lip in frustration. “Yes ma'am.”

Maggie stood and turned for the door.

“Sawyer.” Jones said.

Maggie stopped and turned.

“You’re my best detective Maggie. You really care about the alien population. I still got guys that think this is a joke. Some think these aliens are a waste of time. The future is now. And I’m hoping that you can rub off on the rest of the unit. Help them. Train them.”

Maggie nodded slightly.

“There’s a reason you hold the Precicnt Record for arrests Maggie. There’s also a reason you have more community awards and letters of thanks in you file folder than the rest of the division combined.”

“I broke my own record Lt. The bust today puts me at 32.” Maggie smirked.

Lt. Jones shook her head. “Duly Noted smart ass.”

Maggie smiled. “Would you be angry if I told you it was worth it?”

Lt Jones smiled. “Get out of here Sawyer. And make sure to tell those Feds you keep in your back pocket that your first loyalty is to NCPD. ”

“Yes ma'am.” She replied as she walked out into the squad room. She sat at her desk and began organizing the case folders sitting on top.

A smug looking Detective McConnel walked over. “I hear you’re headed back to patrol.” He said with an attitude.

“I hear You’re still number two on the arrest record McConnel.”

“Whatever.” He said. “Enjoy being back in uniform.”

She grabbed her jacket and walked past him. She turned and faced him and tossed him a cheap Bic pen.

He caught it awkwardly.

“Well look at that Brad. You did catch ‘something’ today. Next time remember to sign your warrants tough guy.” She said with a crooked smile. Several other detectives chuckled at Maggie and her comments.

She strode out the door and walked into the station garage. She rounded the corner on level 3 and grinned when she saw Alex Danvers leaning against her patrol car.

“Sawyer.” Alex said as she gently kissed her girlfriend’s cheek.

“Danvers.” She replied as she held Alex’s hand.

“I owe you an apology Maggie.”

“We are good.” Maggie said.


Maggie cut her off with a passionate kiss. Alex whimpered slightly as Maggie’s tongue brushed hers. Alex threaded her hands through Maggie’s hair and thanked goodness she was leaning against the solid surface of the police car.

As they broke apart they were both breathless.

“I’m booted to patrol for a week as punishment."Maggie said as she caught her breath. "I got tuned up by my Lt. For letting Winn go…”

“I’m Sorry babe. Take me home. Maybe I can make it up to you?” Alex asked shyly. She bit her lip and looked Maggie up and down before opening the passenger side door to the patrol car and slipping inside.

“Oh yeah? How do you plan on doing that?” Maggie asked as she settled into the driver’s seat.

Alex hummed softly. “At this point in torn between seeing what kind of punishment you get for being such a bad girl at work…or……seeing if I can entice uniformed Officer Sawyer to let me off with a warning.”

Maggie’s mouth parted slightly as both scenarios ran through her head.

“Guess I should test out the lights and sirens before I hit the streets next week huh?” Maggie said with a smile.

She peeled wheels as she exited the garage and flipped on the lights and sirens as Alex’s laughter filled the inside of the car.

It was worth it indeed.

anonymous asked:

that metal desk toy is actually not great because the diamonds are kinda sharp (not sharp enough to cut, but they get caught under your nails and stab you) but its also sooooo stimmy! i used to have one til i dropped it and like 3/4s of the diamonds scattered and got lost

Aaaah you’re right, I never thought about them getting under your nails, that would hurt really bad!! I guess you’d have to handle them really carefully ^^;

And I was actually wondering what would happen if you were to drop it or something!! It’s a shame they didn’t design it with some way to prevent the pieces getting lost if that happened! (But now that I think about it I have no idea how they’d do that lol)

Bobblehead Locations

Up until quite recently, I couldn’t find a list of all of the bobbleheads in Fallout 4 and their respective locations, so I made one. Now, there are a few lists out there which makes me happy. Hopefully you guys won’t do what I did and go wandering around the Commonwealth without power armor, trying to find all the bobbleheads.

The S.P.E.C.I.A.L.Bobbleheads:

  • Strength: Mass Fusion building (on metal wall sculpture above the desk in the lobby)
  • Perception: Museum of Freedom (on the desk with the broken terminal in the Museum of Freedom room where you first meet Preston)
  • Endurance: Poseidon Energy (on the metal desk on the central metal catwalk next to a magazine and a steamer trunk)
  • Charisma: Parsons State Insane Asylum (on Jack Cabot’s desk in the administration area near the elevator)
  • Intelligence: Boston Public Library (on an electrical control panel in a mechanical/storage room at the northeastern most point of the library)
  • Agility: Wreck of the FMS Northern Star (on the edge of the bow of the ship on a wooden platform)
  • Luck: Spectacle Island (in a locker next to a steamer trunk on the second deck of the boat with the circuit breaker)

The Perk Bobbleheads:

  • Barter: Longneck’s Lukowski’s Cannery (in the metal caltwalk hut in the upper southwest are of the main room)
  • Big Guns: Vault 95 (on a radio in the north most room of the living area)
  • Energy Weapons: Fort Hagen (on a small table between two fridges in the southwest kitchens on the command center)
  • Explosives: Saugus Ironworks (on a control panel tower next to a magazine and a steamer trunk in the blast furnace)
  • Lock picking: Pickman Gallery (on the ground in between brick pillars and a fireplace in the last chamber where you see Pickman)
  • Medicine: Vault 81 (in Curie’s office in the southeast corner of the Vault)
  • Melee: Trinity Tower (on a table in the cage where Rex and Strong are being held)
  • Repair: Corvega Assembly Plant (on the very top most walkway)
  • Science: Malden Middle School (Vault 75) (on the desk overlooking the training area within the science labs)
  • Small Guns: Gunners Plaza (on the broadcast desk on the ground floor on-air room to the west side of the building)
  • Sneak: Dunwich Borers (on a metal table in the room before the sunken altar)
  • Speech: Park Street Stations (Vault 114) (on the desk in the Overseer’s office where you find Nick Valentine)
  • Unarmed: Atom Cats Garage (on the hood of the rusted car in the main warehouse area)
Writing Prompt #390: How They Met

1: I work next door to where you work and one day you run in asking for 6 bags of ice from our freezer and I demand to know why.

2: You’re a firefighter and I have to explain to you why and how I managed to catch my metal work desk on fire.

3: You’re my neighbor in an apartment building and all of a sudden the fire alarm goes off and next thing you know we’re stuck outside in three inches of snow. You were smart enough to grab a blanket. Can we share please I’m freezing.

4: I own a taxi and this is the third time in a week that you’ve jumped in and said “Follow that car.” I’m not taking you anywhere until you tell me what the heck you’re doing and why.

5: I’m sorry I started reading over your shoulder on the bus and I’m extra sorry I started commentating on it.

Raphael taking Simon furniture shopping to furnish his room. Simon makes them stop and test every bed for cuddling. (Raphael gets annoyed after the tenth time). 

He’s not amused when Simon spends twenty minutes looking at lava laps. 

Simon realising that he can’t have a wooden study table anymore because it might be used to kill him - just another reminder of how much his life has changed, of how much he used to take for granted. (Raphael hugs him from behind and walks him over to where the metal desks are and buys him the most expensive one). 

They bicker over curtains for ages because Raphael refuses to let Simon defile his hotel with anime themed curtains. 

All this is happening in the dead of night so they break into the store, take the stuff, leave money at the register, and sneak out. Raphael smacks SImon every time he starts humming the Pink Panther theme. 

Office 7734

Welcome to Hell, my friend. No, it’s not what I expected when I first arrived, either, but it’s true.

Hell is an office job.

Doesn’t seem too bad for Hell, does it? Practically a dream job, compared to lakes of fire and all that. I mean sure, it’s not one of those hip offices with funky feng shui and trendy colors and organic juice bars. It’s not even a cubicle farm, where at least you get a tiny scrap of privacy while you work.

No, it’s just an office with an open floor plan. Nothing but desks, row upon row of gray metal desks beneath sickly fluorescent lighting. These people sitting at the desks are your new co-workers. You may hear an occasional cough or sniffle, but for the most part, we’re all very quiet.


Because we’re thinking, that’s why. We are thinking very, very hard about the blank piece of paper on our desks.

You’ve got one, too. It’s a standard 3x5 index card, with one red line at the top and ten blue lines underneath. No fancy computers to work on here, just a plain, simple index card.

But it’s a very important index card. You get a new one every day, and if you write something on it, then you might get the evening off.

What’s so great about an evening off?

Well, a day in Hell may be like working in an office, but the nights are another thing entirely. At night, we could end up with fire ants poured into our ears, or dancing barefoot on broken glass. We’ve had our eyes lanced, our tongues shredded, and our intestines unwound. And those were the easy nights. Normally it’s much worse.

That’s why these index cards are so important.

Did you think devils and demons would be creative with their punishments? Try telling a bunch of humans that one of them will get the night off if they come up with the most inventive torture of the day. Demons can’t even compete with our creativity.

But hey, it’s almost quitting time. We’ve got to drop our cards in the suggestion box before the 5:00 deadline. I’d wish you good luck, but that would mean really bad luck for me, wouldn’t it?

Oh wait, I see that look in your eyes. You’re thinking about getting everyone to band together and write down easy tortures, like runny noses and stubbed toes, right?

Well, forget about it. No matter what you do, there will always be that one guy, you know? Usually more than one, but there will always be at least one stupid, selfish, or just plain evil asshole who ruins things for everyone else. If you don’t believe me, then you don’t know your fellow humans very well.

Or you never worked in an office.

But I wouldn’t worry about it. After tonight, I’m sure you’ll fit right in.

The storm had been going on most of the day. It had taken Elyza and Alicia by surprise and now they were trapped in an abandoned office building until it died down.

Elyza was pacing the small space fiddling with her knife. She hadn’t stopped moving since they settled in to wait out the storm. Alicia sat on a long metal desk and watched Elyza go back and forth across the dingy tiled floor.

“Hey, come sit down for a bit.” Alicia patted the spot next to her on the desk. Elyza chewed on her bottom lip anxiously and paced for a few more seconds before stopping in front of Alicia.

“How are you this calm about being trapped here? It’s been hours and who knows what happened to the others.” Elyza’s voice was so thin and broken that it took Alicia by surprise. She pushed herself off the desk and walked up to Elyza who now had her fingers laced on top of her head. Her blue eyes were darting around the room like a caged animal.

“Hey, hey.” Alicia moved in close to Elyza and put her hands on her cheeks to get her eyes to focus on her. “Look at me. I’m right here with you. We’re here together.” Alicia smiled and rubbed her thumb soothingly on Elyza’s warm cheek.

Elyza shook off Alicia’s touch and turned to pace the floor again. “No, this is too much. I hate being stuck here. I hate feeling helpless.” Elyza’s voice was becoming more frantic as she turned to look back at Alicia who hadn’t moved from where Elyza had left her. “What are we going to do if they aren’t okay when we get out of here?”

“Elyza we can’t think like that. We can’t do anything about that right now.” Alicia slowly walked over to Elyza again. “We’ll figure it out once we can get out of here.” Alicia tentatively reached up and put a hand on Elyza’s forearm and gave it a squeeze.

“I don’t think I can keep my sanity much longer.” Elyza sighed and once again started chewing on her bottom lip.

“Should I take your mind off of it?” Alicia’s face brightened into a wicked smirk as she took a small step closer to Elyza.

Immediately Elyza’s attention was focused on Alicia and her words. “What are you thinking?” Elyza cocked her eyebrow and matched Alicia’s smirk.

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