#hotel Furniture Factory
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Indulge in luxury at our Marriott Resort Hotel Project mockup room, where every piece of furniture is meticulously crafted from premium solid wood, oven-dried to perfection. Experience the sophistication of a lamb leather bed dressing on a solid wood bedhead, complemented by a solid wood canopy. The interior boasts leather-clad elegance, with acoustic-insulated and flame-resistant fabric-covered wardrobe doors. A lamb leather-covered tabletop graces the work desk. Discover the natural luxury of chairs and sofas.
#marriott #luxurydesign #solidwoodfurniture #naturalelegance #interiorinspiration #hotelfurniture #hotel #sagistgroup #hoteldesign
#youtube#hotel#hotel furniture#hotelfurniture#sagistgroup#luxuryfurniture#luxuryinteriors#metindurmaz#etsy#etsyfinds#marriott#hotel Furniture Factory
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31 Ik facts ~ or why Ikabod Kee is the best character in known history
Enjoy random stuff that I gathered from the game, because it brings me great joy
• He apparently remembers the names of every single guests in his hotel, like Lawrence and Patricia, but still call Fat Pajama Man like this. That, or he makes them on the spot
• He likes to eat dog treats
• He collected bowls of creamy potato, and had seventeen before he died
• His parents messed up his name at birth, calling him Ik instead of Ikabod. Which explain why we can't have more than two letters in our name and three in our surname (idem for Mr.Sob)
• Has a suspicious amount of cooling fans, there's a possibility that he collects them too
• He has party poppers at his desk
• He collects strobe lights (whatever it is)
• He has two arms, his tailor just never sewed the second sleeve and he never had the bravery to tell it to them.
• He had a spider on his forehead for two whole weeks (wherever the spider is a real spider or a previous guest is unclear)
• The way he introduces himself to you implies that he was hiding behind his desk until you came
• Recycle the aquarium water
• He collects barils of petrol
• He doesn't tell you anything if you throw furniture in his face
• He is an art thief
• His dad was a crow enthusiast
• Yep, same dad who pushed him out of a moving vehicule (and that he forgave for it)
• Why does he looks like this
• Why is he so tall
• He likes to fit his entire body in shoeboxes in the hope of being mailed to someone
• I made the math, and apparently the first thing that he thought after his horrible death as a teenager was to build a massive underground hotel for dead people with an asylum, three different factories, a mall, an entire western city, multiple endless pits and a level which is upside down. What a legend.
• His dialogue implies that he has two legs but the cover art for the ost doesn't show them.
• He has teeth in the shape of a heart monitor, if you hadn't seen that yet.
• He never got to tell that person he had a crush on them
• I thought it was a shame that his "sick tunes" were not in the OST, but I was unaware that HE COMPOSED THE OST. What a guy.
• He judged necessary to have a sound effect system in his hotel that he tests regularly
• He collected carnivorous plants that were apparently big enough to eat a small dog
• There is a tiny part of me that is not fully conviced that he didn't make up the haunted trucker thing on the spot
• He says that the Upturned Inn has no phone line, but if that's the case what is he calling us with ?
• He never lived to see the Internet, thank god
•We failed him
• I watched the Tomato stream and I'm sorry but this is his canon voice
Bonus Mr.Ballin fact:
Mr.Ballin has a slight chance of turning to look at you at the start of the level and it is legitimately one of the most horrifying sight I ever witnessed
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The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №5
next 6
prev 4
This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.
Wow, this is probably the longest and most productive time for me. I don't force myself to do any of this at all. The plot just comes to me, and I am filled with happiness as I embody it. But I think I will still slow down the pace and post the plot development a little less often, so as not to feel bad when I don't feel like drawing.
I'm trying to experiment with the glow of the eyes. It seems to me that it turned out very ok =)
Error got a little carried away with knitting. But it killed two birds with one stone: he no longer needs to constantly tie Cross and Dust with threads, the effect now works without his participation. Thanks to the generosity of the Destroyer, Dust now has a cozy corner of personal safety under his hood.
The Bad Guys found a sewing kit at Kitty's place, so they were able to mend their clothes a little and not look like tramps (well, more than they do now). There were also a lot of sweets and other food in the kitchen, which now fills the inventory of Horror, Cross, and Killer. They managed to find out the properties of some food:
Almond Water
Restores 15 HP and sanity.
*you can never have too much
Greasy Marshmallow
Restores -25 HP.
*sometimes there is too much
*makes your skin smooth and elastic
*follow the recommendations
Fortunately, the recommendations were found in the notebook with some details:
I once saw how one idiot ate 50 of them on a bet and turned into a pile of marshmallow and fat. A terrible sight. Smelled like at Willy Wonka's factory. But wow, this thing is almost like chocolate when melted. Sometimes I'm ready to kill for such a treat. Recommendations:
- Melt the marshmallow.
- Do not melt more than 30 at a time.
- The interval between marshmallow intakes is 40 minutes.
- Cook it with Almond Water.
- Make sure you are safe during use - its smell attracts dangerous entities.
This food looks dangerous, but they are not in a situation to turn up their noses. And the note about chocolate excited at least half of them.
As soon as Error finished making a knitted doll for Kitty, they all left her house. As the notes said, she moved them back to the halls of IKEA. From there, they found an exit to some underground corridors resembling catacombs. The air there was humid, and condensation had formed in some places.
The local architecture resembled a labyrinth with orange wallpaper and a smelly carpet. The corridors twisted haphazardly, and there were many more doors and stairs than they expected. Some of the doors had signs. Most of them said "Service Rooms", "Storage Rooms", and they found various things in them: cleaning supplies (Dust took some of them without any explanation), mops, knives (Killer took a couple, he didn't need any explanation), rusty muskets, wet gunpowder, bundles of wires, dolls, coins of different countries and denominations, boxes of rotten canned food.
There were also "Room 402", "13", "10". These doors led to living rooms, as if from hotels and inns, but some abandoned ones, with broken and rotten furniture. Nothing interesting.
Finally, the corridors became wider, branched out, and there were rooms with several passages, communications ran along the walls, in which, judging by the sound, water was flowing somewhere. They were both warm and extremely hot.
Finally, in one of the corridors where they decided to stop, Killer found a balloon, which he carried around like something funny. Around the corner, he found another one and a bunch of scattered confetti. There was also a disturbing graffiti on the wall. But the Bad Guys were no longer surprised by anything, having traveled for about a week and a half through constantly changing space. They stopped for a break in this remarkable place.
However, those who decided to flip through the notebook, Dust and Cross, were a little scared, distracting Nightmare from his conversation with the Destroyer with a flash of negativity.
Party people
Very dangerous. Do not touch the balloons, poppers, and confetti. RUN WITHOUT LOOKING BACK. Do not let them corner you, and if you see signs of their presence, pray that they don't find you. Smart creatures, constantly hacking our databases and editing texts (be careful with "=)").
Recommendations:
- Correct/delete pages created/edited by Partygoers
- Run if you see or hear one of them.
- Inform others, especially operatives [illegible], about any observations of 'party rooms'.
Prohibitions:
- Follow the balloons, party sounds, and confetti.
- Make tactile contact with the Partygoers
They tried to calm down by the fact that the author of the notebook clearly sometimes exaggerated by calling things "lethally dangerous " and Error said that most things in this place work on them "not as they should have ". But in the main moments, the former owner of the notes was right, wasn't he?
Despite this, the short break went quite normally, no one bothered them.
Nightmare belongs to Jokublog
Killer belongs to RahafWabas
Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale
Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios
Error belongs to CrayonQueen
Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork
#bad sanses#cross sans#dust sans#error sans#horror sans#killer sans#nightmare sans#the backrooms#au#undertale au#bad guys in backrooms#bad sans gang#art
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So I'm building a Minecraft city and so far my big obstacle (other than all the houses I have to build) is trying to remember/ figure out all the little businesses/buildings I pass everyday IRL and don't think about.
So like if y'all have any suggestions for everyday boring buildings that might go in a city, feel free to reblog or comment on this post to make a suggestion, it would really help me.
So far I have built, along with just a lot of houses:
-3 apartment buildings, 4 office skyscrapers, a laundromat, a library, a vet office, an animal shelter, a dentist, several restaurants of different bents, a movie theater, a ballet studio, several gas stations, a doctors office, a jail, a shoe factory, a salon, a bakery, a coffee shop, an arcade, a mechanic shop, a park, a car wash, a motel, a hotel, a grocery store, 2 schools, school bus depot
I plan to build, eventually:
-a fully decked out hospital, a cemetery, some churches, more gas stations and grocery stores bc I know I need several of those, a clothing store, a bus depot, a nursery/gardening center, a furniture store
Current map of city:
Any ideas are welcome. I'm sure there are like a thousand obvious things I'm not thinking of. I just wish so much that there were more decoration blocks in Minecraft bc my stores are barren. :(
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Perfect Strangers part one: The Academy
Viktor x Fem!reader (SFW)
part two
Takes place before Arcane and works its way there, did my best to combine the different versions of lore. (nsfw in later parts)
(you and Viktor meet on your first day at the academy and bond over being habitual, awkward loners. The story revolves around class issues and a sense of belonging mixed with lore and Arcane plot. The story will split at some point and you choose which ending you want to read. Kind of self-indulgent... Based on interactions in platonic and romantic relationships with the men in my life.)
*no warnings for this part*
Word Count: 2,857
******
Viktor was anxious, but masked it with a newfound sense of ambition as he stepped onto the grounds of The University of Piltover for the first time. He was only twenty and in a completely new city. Between his life in Entresol, and now Piltover, it was incomparable. He already knew he was capable of excelling with his work after already improving peoples’ lives back at home. It was only a matter of using the facilities and resources here to greatly expand his research. Then he could help people on a much larger scale instead of improving a factory here and there back in Zaun.
He followed the crowd of new students, taking in all of the chatter and splendor surrounding him. The university was so unnecessarily grand above him as he passed through an obnoxiously large doorway gilded in gold. Inside of the first hall the chatter grew to a low roar as every sound began to echo off of the walls.
******
That morning had been anything but exciting for you as you struggled to get out of bed. Filled with a sense of dread as you were stepping well past the point of no return. Today was orientation day at the academy as well as the last day to respond to the artists’ guild. Piltover’s guilds were nothing to scoff at, especially now when you had been so close to becoming one of their apprentices.
Stale hotel furniture greeted you as you finally sat up in bed and gave your aching back a much needed stretch. You couldn’t believe you weren’t going to the guild and there was nothing you could do about it at this point. Arguments had filled your family home for years about what you were going to do with your life. Applying to the artisan guild without your parent’s knowledge was your first act of rebellion in your golden-child life. Getting in didn’t even seem like a possibility until you had received a letter, only days before orientation, announcing your acceptance into the apprenticeship program.
You had already accepted your seat at the academy by then, which your parents were overjoyed by after getting what they so desperately wanted, for you of course. Your family had always been from Piltover, as long as you could remember, but your parents believed in building your own legacy before joining the family business. Generations of your family had made names for themselves, all separate from the business. It was up to you to maintain your life and status in Piltover. At least they weren’t trying to use you for their own gain, they were just worried about giving you the best life possible by building character. Being an artist was not character building in their eyes
Taking your sweet time getting ready was your last act of a subtle rebellion for no one else to see or know about. It wasn’t like you were even running late, sleep had eluded you all morning once the sun peeked its ugly face through the useless sheer curtains; if anything you were early.
Uniforms were nothing new to you, getting ready without having to think about your outfit choice was one less thing to worry about. At least the uniforms made you feel more confident, it was almost like a status symbol. You were one of Piltover’s “finest and brightest” like your parents kept saying for years every time your school reports were sent home. Sometimes you wished you never tried so hard in academics, then maybe you’d be at the artisan guild learning how to beautify the city, and possibly beyond, instead.
Just in case boredom occurred, you tucked your latest sketch book into your, mostly empty, bag. Shoving your feet into the standard school loafers, you gradually made your way out of the hotel room and through the lobby. Breathing in the fresh air, or at least as fresh as a concrete city could feel.
People were everywhere, walking and talking like they belonged. Obviously they did, but something so mundane never came easy to you. You couldn’t help but stare too long at others or everything around you, overthinking about everything, as you kept your stride slow and controlled. Getting worked up wasn’t on your list of things to do before classes even began. You hadn’t even moved into your dorm yet.
There was a crowd in the courtyard of the campus. Not a huge crowd, but it must’ve been the new students. Imagining a sea of uniforms was overkill now that you could see everyone in person and realized not everyone who applied was accepted into the academy. Something about that made you feel special, especially when this whole situation was never your first choice.
Walking towards the lecture hall filled you with a good kind of excitement for the first time during this whole ordeal.
That was when you first saw him all those years ago. You were just trying to survive the crowd as you were pushed back and forth between people that seemed to tower over you. Maybe it was just your social anxiety making everything seem so much larger than it actually was. The noise was almost overwhelming. Entranced by him, from across the crowd as everyone began to pour into the lecture hall, you felt calmer. Remembering you needed to feign some sense of grace, these people were going to be your peers after all.
Even though he didn’t tower over everyone else, you kept seeing his tousled chestnut hair peeking out through the crowd when you’d lose sight of him.
He was handsome. Shamelessly, but still inconspicuous enough to not be noticed, nudging your way through the crowd you finally found yourself close to him. Given that it was your first day on your own, you no longer had childhood classmates alongside you to keep company with which meant you needed to try and make real connections. Orientation was the way to start. Familiarity wasn’t going to get you anywhere at the academy. Plus, he seemed shy, with the way he was looking around and avoiding people, and so were you usually. This sneaking dance through the crowd was a first for you and it made you a little giddy, not in a romantic way. Maybe you were a little proud of taking the first steps by yourself for once.
When you had your bag settled under the seat behind your feet, you noticed he was holding a cane between his knees as he continued to look around the spacious building in awe. The way he seemed to be soaking everything in told you he wasn’t from around here. Maybe he’d just never seen the university before. You let your gaze linger for too long around his eyes because he turned suddenly and caught you staring. You couldn’t do anything else besides pretend you were staring at the scene behind him and awkwardly grin as you turned away. Suddenly you were uncomfortable with the situation you created.
“Big room,” you practically have to squeeze out when it was your turn to feel his continuous stare.
“Yes, it is.” He smiled as he spoke which put you at ease.
“I haven’t been here for a while, I did a tour a few years ago.”
“So you’ve had your sights set on this place?”
You hesitated and waved your hands awkwardly while trying to formulate an answer that didn’t insult everyone in the room, “You could say I have ambitious parents. I don’t hate the opportunity even if it wasn’t my first choice.”
Your answer seemed to intrigue him, “What would you rather be doing? Wasn’t it hard enough getting here?” There wasn’t sass or judgment in his questioning, just curiosity.
“It feels wrong to say it here, but I was training to be an artist. My academic skills were somewhat ‘impressive’, or at least that’s what they said,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and it felt rude immediately. You made an awkward waving gesture with your hand to try and focus, “eh, so I was encouraged to pursue a more academic route. I’ve settled on mechanical engineering for now and yes it was very hard for me to get here.”
“Whether you wanted this or not, you have enough passion for it to have worked out so far.”
His words were encouraging and he seemed sweet which was already making you feel flustered inside. “Thanks, now we just have to see if I survive.” You gave a small shrug and slouched in your uncomfortable seat.
You both continued to whisper comments here and there throughout orientation. It was long and you could hear a snore every once in a while as quotes about progress and innovation flew over your head. You figured you would be seeing him occasionally as your tracks had a lot of similarities so there was no rush to ask for his life story.
When you had stopped talking you sketched in your book, occasionally feeling him shift to watch you work. The fresh smell of his body wash made you blush when you were so used to being around your fathers business partners smelling like cigars and expensive cologne. It made you tuck into your seat further as you furiously sketched people around you in the lecture hall. Ignoring the intrusive thoughts you had about this stranger.
“What’s your name?” you whisper once your nose was able to part ways with your sketches.
“Viktor,” he straightened his back, sitting up from watching you work, “you?”
“y/n.”
“That’s a nice name,” his smile made you blush as you went back to your book.
When orientation ended you offered to walk together and continue talking. Students wouldn’t be moving into their dorms for another week so you both had until then to explore this part of the city. Your parents hadn’t been keen on traveling back and forth twice just to get you moved in so they had set you up in a hotel for the week. However Viktor said he was already moved into a room given his circumstance, but admitted he appreciated the company.
“I figured you were from out of town,” you teased as you meandered around the grounds.
“What makes you say that?” his eyes felt so intense to you. From his perspective he thought he didn’t stand out too much at a first glance.
“Everything seemed dazzling to you back there,” you gestured to the lecture hall you had both just left. It was a fancy building, but when you grow up around everything looking luxurious you don’t really notice it anymore.
“Well… you’re right, I’m from the edge of… Entresol, I transferred from the Academy of Techmaturgy,” he didn’t look at you as he said this. Almost as if he was awaiting some sort of judgment.
“Wait, that's… in Zaun. You must have worked so hard to get here,” you grinned and continued to walk in an effort to make him feel at ease being so far out of his element. “Was there somewhere you wanted to go? I can leave you alone if you’d like; we’ll most likely have some classes together anyways.”
He considered doing what he always did, which was spend the rest of the day, and following week and a half, alone before having to attend classes. He was pretty set in his ways of just working all of the time in his lab in Zaun. Even as a child he was often alone, not intentionally. It couldn’t hurt to start interacting with someone, you seemed nice and not overbearing. What he feared was potential friends losing interest in his company if he couldn’t keep up with them physically. For him that just meant working more to prove himself.
His grip on his cane tightened and his knuckles were whiter than his already pale skin. “It would be nice to have company. I was going to visit the library before calling it a night.”
As you both walked along a quiet path, listening to the city around you hum, the occasional tapping of his metal cane against the hard ground kept you both at the same steady pace. Your time at the library was relaxing as you looked through research books that you undoubtedly would have to reference later in the semester. There were private study areas that Viktor seemed to especially enjoy as you both were habitual loners.
You both finished off the evening with a stop to get a couple of hot drinks before you intended to part ways with him and leave it up to chance to run into him again eventually. It was a large campus.
“I’ll see you around, Viktor,” you give him a soft smile and slowly stand from your shared café table.
“Wait, y/n- I uh was,” the clatter of his cane stopped you in your tracks as he reached to pick it back up, “I’ll walk you back to your room.”
This took you by surprise as the intentions of his innocent offer were lost on you, making your mind wander elsewhere. You stammered and made a quizzical gesture with your hands.
“You wanted to come back to my place?” you teased. Maybe you were emboldened by your change in scenery being far from your strict parents. It wouldn’t hurt if he really did want to come back to your room.
Embarrassed at the realization of what he must have implied, he raised his free hand and waved it nervously with a forced smile.
“No not, ehm, not like that. I-” he sheepishly chuckled as he stood from his seat slowly and you both shared toothy grins as you walked away from the café. Laugher cured whatever awkwardness Viktor had felt for that short moment.
Part of you felt a little disappointed, but you knew he was just being a gentleman so instead you chose to be amused. This whole day had been out of your comfort zone and contrary to your usual behavior, throwing caution to the wind was far from off the table if Viktor changed his mind by the time you reached your door. Perhaps it felt freeing to expect jumping into bed with someone you just met because there wasn’t much to lose, no long relationship to ruin, only a budding one.
Walking back to the hotel wasn’t awkward in the slightest, if anything it was more jovial than the entire evening had been. A metaphorical baseline had been drawn and you both settled in comfortably as perfect strangers.
******
The rest of the week was the most socializing you’d ever done with a person one on one, especially with someone you just met. Viktor was different, he was emotionally complex and passionate about his research. It was inspiring to hear him talk about his life in the undercity and how he only wanted to help people in need. Listening to him felt like a kind of meditation just letting his mind wander as you drew.
Viktor hadn’t intended on seeing you every single day of the week, it’s just how it happened. The following morning you had seen him reading by himself on a bench and you greeted him awkwardly. He was polite and asked you how you slept, which made you blush. You thought he was just being polite, but he was honest and said you looked stressed.
“I didn’t really sleep, I stayed up to read. Couldn’t pass out afterwards.”
“Nervous?”
“Always, it seems…” you tried to quietly laugh it off with the roll of your eyes as he smiled at you. That damn grin. You’d never interacted with someone like this before even though it was probably simple for most people.
He offered to go for a short walk and you both got tea at the campus café. That short walk turned into a late lunch, which turned into reading together in the library, and then more walking. Not before long, you both realized the entire day had passed you by, but it didn’t feel wasted and you both felt rather relaxed instead.
Viktor, quite the gentleman, offered to walk you back to your hotel room again, but you could tell his leg was bothering him. He was good at hiding it most of the time, slowing down instead of swaying against his cane or expressing discomfort. You just patted his arm and let him know he didn’t have to even though it was nice.
The rest of the week pretty much went that same way where you would either run into each other exploring the campus or meet up at a spot you agreed upon the previous day. It was intoxicating getting to be with each other even though you’d just met that week, but it felt like so much longer already.
There was nothing romantic in the air as far as you could tell, just having this new platonic friendship, where he seemed eager to be around you as well, was wonderful.
At night when you were alone in the dark and struggled to sleep, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to Viktor.
******
Thank you for making it to the end :) more to come soon!
#arcane#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#reader x viktor#viktor#arcane viktor#viktor/reader#reader/viktor#viktor arcane x reader#arcane reader insert#first time sharing a fic and I am so nervous and scared I have most of it written out because I was too scared to share it#arcane viktor x you#viktor arcane x you#viktor x you#perfect strangers
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“In the majority of immigrant families and for many working-class families of native-born Americans, the standard middle-class pattern, in which an entire family lived on the income of one man, was completely unachievable. The wages paid to a semi-skilled working man in 1909, for example--between $12 and $15 a week--were simply not enough to sustain a family. In large cities, rent often took between a quarter and a third of the family income and frequently did not include heat or fuel for the stove. Food, purchased daily to avoid spoilage, was relatively expensive. A chicken cost 25 cents, and potatoes were 2 cents a pound. Pennies for the newspaper, nickels for carfare, loaves of bread, and cups of coffee added up fast. Many families had bought their furniture on the installment plan, and many belonged to unions or mutual benefit societies. These payments and dues had to be met monthly.
Working class families adopted a variety of strategies to expand their incomes. In African-American families, where education was prized as a way out of poverty and second-class citizenship, children and teenagers remained in school while their mothers sought work as field hands, domestics, or laundresses. In Northern mill towns, where entire families worked at the textile mill, parents made childcare arrangements with neighbors and relatives for the youngest children so that mothers could work for a share of the family income.
…By far the largest employment sector for young American women, both black and white, was domestic service. In 1900, one-third of all wage-earning women--nearly 2 million of them--worked either as servants in private homes or as waitresses in hotels and restaurants. The great majority of household servants in the North, Midwest, and West were white immigrant women or their daughters, though native-born white women continued to work as domestic servants in country towns and villages. In the south, white middle-class families almost exclusively employed black women as maids, nurses, cooks, and laundresses.
Because the weekly wages of domestic services were comparable to those of factory hands, and room and board were free, domestic service gave immigrant women a chance to save money. Among Irish servants it was common to send money back to relatives in Ireland or to pay ship’s passage for parents and siblings who wanted to immigrate to America. Women from other immigrant groups--Germans, Scandinavians, and Slaves, for example--went into domestic service because they spoke little or no English and were unqualified for many other jobs. For some new arrivals domestic service provided a chance to learn a little English and become familiar with American culture.
…The advent of new machinery and new workforce efficiency techniques, called scientific management, contributed to the “deskilling” of labor, either by eliminating tasks formerly done by hand or by breaking the tasks down into ever-smaller segments. In many factories, for example, no worker completed a whole garment or shoe by himself, and no one needed more than a day’s training to learn the simple, repetitive work. With all these changes in the technology and management of the factory, some men did lose jobs to less-skilled women, who would accept cruelly low wages in order to help their families survive. When working men blamed women for taking their jobs or depressing their wages, they failed to see that it was not the fault of women who needed to work, but the fault of an industrial system organized solely for profit.
Few industrial jobs held any possibility of advancement, and it was not until after World War I that women became job foremen or floor managers to any appreciable extent. Many jobs, like candy making and bookbinding, were subject to seasonal rushes and slack times; women garment makers often found they worked for a 14-hour stretch for three days and then had no work--and no pay--for the rest of the week. Work hours grew shorter, and by 1920, the 54-hour week had become the legal standard in New York and a number of other states.
…For a few years in the 1880s, before it collapsed under its own size and increasing competition from the new American Federation of Labor (AFL), the Knights of Labor had successfully organized hundreds of thousands of skilled and unskilled workers, both men and women, black and white. The AFL, meanwhile, concentrated its energies on organizing unions for skilled male craftsmen. The AFL was not interested in industrial unionism--the organizing of masses of unskilled workers, such as miners or mill workers, by industry rather than by specialized craft. Many Americans, including the AFL leadership, felt that industrial unionism was under the control of revolutionary socialists. They were deeply suspicious of the socialist Industrial Workers of the World, or Wobblies, who were successfully organizing miners and mill workers in the opening years of the 20th century.
The AFL, unlike the Wobblies, ignored African Americans for many years. And, though it did charter a number of women’s local unions between 1890 and 1920, it was heavily biased against women workers. The AFL leadership believed that women should be at home and not in the workplace, and feared that women’s willingness to accept low wages constituted a threat to male jobs and wage levels. The AFL would be very slow to realize that encouraging divisions between men and women workers only retarded the progress of labor unionism as a whole, for women were in the workplace to stay.
..Before 1917, white-collar work was almost exclusively reserved for native-born white women. Immigrants, even second-generation daughters of immigrants who spoke with an accent or had noticeably “foreign” or Jewish names, usually found it impossible to get sales or office jobs. Black women knew that discriminatory hiring practices in both the North and the South made it useless for them even to apply to white-collar office or clerical work in any but black-owned businesses. Increasingly, and mostly in the South, black women were hired to teach black children. By 1910, 22,547 of the nation’s 29,772 black teachers were female.
Similarly, black women entered nursing in growing numbers around 1900, after the founding of a number of black nursing schools in the 1890s. Black nurses worked in the black community and as private nurses; they were denied jobs in white hospitals and in the Army Nurse Corps and the Red Cross. Excluded from membership in the American Nurses Association, they formed their own group in 1908--the National Association of Colored Graduate Nurses.
White women who worked in offices occupied an increasing number of specialized positions as typists, stenographers, shipping and receiving clerks, bookkeepers, cashiers, accountants, or office-machine workers. Their jobs had come with the growth of business and industry and technological advances in business machinery. At the same time that the demand for office staff skyrocketed, the spread of public school education, especially high school training, meant that a growing supply of women was available for office work. By 1915, approximately 50 percent of all office workers, and nearly 85 percent of all typists and stenographers, were women.”
- Karen Manners Smith, “Women at Work.” in New Paths to Power: American Women, 1890-1920
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smoke break
rush and the reader having some tomfoolery while the hotel remains devoid of trespassers.
written for a dear friend.
AO3 MIRROR: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43180497/
The black smog wrapped around you like the feathers of a boa as he went past you to open the door, keeping the path to a dim room on the outskirts of the paths usually taken open. A square table, tilted to misalign against the carpet below it, yet aligned towards the placement of the pieces framed against the walls, which were nothing too special, and looked more like something that would be obtained at any furniture shop rather than the fine arts.
You took a seat, looking up with your elbow on the table, resting your head upon the hand built upon it, and watched as Rush pushed the chair over to the wall with such little force that the bare air could've carried it. The small dimensions of the room made his height seem even more intimidating, and to you, endearing, not to mention the smell of gasoline and factory that came off of him like a fond cologne, a send-off to the roaring twenties for whatever unfortunate soul could still remember such an age and stumble inside the hotel.
It was your acquired taste, however. You could say he smelled like a personal heaven any day.
"So!" that booming voice he had spoke, or rather, yelled with no intention to yell yet would always be able to be heard from a few rooms away, "haven't seen anybody coming through for the past day. Pray for me this lasts."
"Mhhm."
That Jersey accent was already about to drive you crazy. Anyways, now that it did come to your attention, the hotel had been quiet recently. A much needed break for everybody involved, and you had already been witness to a few conversations held within this grace period. The other entities also seemed to have noticed it, embraced with a warmth of the cravings for peace. It would not last forever. People would be back, and people would be slain for everybody's sake, and that's why it was treated like it was worth such mild celebration. Rush's permanent grin seemed to extend farther down the cheeks, though that could just be because you were there. While your paths did not cross as much as either of you would like, times like these of relative quiet were spent together, stuck together, cold fumes wrapping around you without objection to his touch. The cold smoke, another acquired taste. You couldn't get enough of it.
You couldn't get enough of him. He was loud, able to strike fear into anybody, and you liked that.
"Plenty of things to do here, just have to look for them. There's always a few pieces missing, but the backgammon set should be good," he gestured to the left -- a shelf with a few other classic board games, a deck of cards, something unrecognizable as a game that probably was taken off of a dead body, and the already mentioned backgammon. You wished you were aware of this earlier. A few weeks to a few months. Time was lost too easily here. None of these looked too great to play with only two players, and the other two player options were either not competitive enough for you to like, too competitive and could rile either of you into a frenzy, or not that fun at all.
But the best sort of fun came from just making things up, and you already had a game made up as your selection for the night. Your head perked up from the unintentional slipping towards the table it had made.
"Give me a hand, dear. Wait, no...the entire arm. Two, if you'd so desire," you requested.
A hearty chuckle, a nod from the face of slightly brighter grey, and the smog bent to form the shape of two arms, starting from an elbow, the condensed fog taking a reach to hold onto one of your own hands already. They were minuscule compared to those monsters -- and cold, too. Even colder than just burying your face into it like you usually did. Hopefully frostbite wouldn't come and ruin the moment. You've seen Rush with these before -- fingers blocky and the size of your torso, and you had watched those fingers form the tightest grip against a trespasser and throw them against a wall at one point, reducing bones into powder with just one movement. He could've done that to you at one point. But now...?
Your arm moved up, shifting the elbow into that classic posture for a round of arm wrestling, and Rush copied your movements without a word, without a blink or twitch of that handsome face.
"Ready?" you asked.
"Whenever you are, love," he growled, a growl of upcoming ecstatic sparks. The battle was on, both of your hand's now in the ring.
And you were either suddenly really good at this, or the smoke beast was not as strong as he let on, because it was already in the struggle part of every arm wrestle match. Tilted to the left, then the right again, an almost-win on Rush's end being shoved up as you began to break a sweat. The two of you exchanged words during all of this -- they were not very kind words. The love language of telling each other that you would kick each other's asses, to eat shit after the round, a banter that Rush and you loved to engage in. It soon turned into screaming curse words at each other, Rush giving a finale of a growl, and your hand being shoved onto the table. He always won, but it's not like you minded. Rush's eyes closed in enthusiastic laughter, and you joining in with a chuckle while still trying to process the last few seconds of that brawl.
You moved the arm to give a congratulatory handshake with him, an excuse to hold that hand yet again, and it felt like something had happened within those few seconds of intensities.
And you did hear a slight snap alongside the bang of your fist on the table.
And this wouldn't be the first time, nor probably the last, that he would've accidentally broken something in your frail works.
"Rush, think you did that thing where you fuck up my wrist again. Watch the way it dangles--" you shook out your wrist a little bit, and while it did hurt, it didn't hurt as badly as last time. It wasn't broken at the very least, but you still let out a string of quiet swears to decorate your pain before stopping.
"Wait. Again?" One of the few things that could nearly wipe that grin off his face.
You made another muffled agreement.
"Ice pack, then? Want to come with me to get it?"
Another mhm and a nod. Without hesitation and with a whole lot of worries, Rush swooped over, curling around your body with the icy pollution, lifting you up inside of it, pushed around until you could be cradled by what made you cough and choke, and would let suffocate you if it ever got to that point. Perhaps the grip he has on you could've just doubled as an ice-pack instead, but once Rush's mind was on your safety, it would be impossible to stop his search. Speaking of, he just broke that door trying to leave. That sort of hunk behavior...you've been smitten by it since first seeing him, and it still makes your thoughts go to mush. Great distraction for whatever's going on with your wrist.
#doors roblox#roblox doors#roblox#rush doors#rush x reader#rush/reader#rush doors x reader#rush doors/reader#x reader#injury#nephro.txt#nephro.pdf
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Scary Monsters
@dysphoria-sweatshirt @sweatersexual @30spiders
Part 1/? - Rocco’s Closet
Part 2/? - School for Monsters
Part 3/? - The Waternoose Family
Part 4/? - The Terrifying Humans
There hadn't been any opportunity for the boys to get something to eat that morning, so they had to sit hungry in the bushes beside the driveway until Armstrong the chauffeur brought the very long black car around. Luca and Alberto crept around the far side of it and opened the back door to get in, which Armstrong was not expecting. He yelped, then draped several tentacles over the seat as he turned to see what was going on.
“Just us!” said Alberto, pulling water bottles out from under the little fridge.
“We're waiting for Harry!” Luca added, with his best innocent grin.
“Don't tell Mr. Waternoose,” Alberto added.
The octopus raised a shaggy eyebrow. “You boys up to something?” he asked.
“Nothing bad,” Luca assured him. He drank some of the water, then poured the rest over his head.
Harry came scuttling out of the house a few minutes later, and climbed into the car. He was relieved to see Luca and Alberto there.
“Oh, good,” he said. “When Barbara told me she'd escorted you two out this morning, I was afraid I'd never see you again. We're gonna see those humans today, right?”
“Absolutely,” said Alberto with a nod.
Armstrong started the car and headed down the driveway.
“Do you have anything we can eat?” Luca asked. “We didn't have breakfast.”
Harry blinked, having apparently not even thought of that. “I've got some candy,” he said, and pulled out a bag of suckers. Each one was a different colour of transparent candy, apparently encasing an eyeball on a stick.
“Um.” Luca held up his hands. “Candy isn't really breakfast.”
“Yeah,” Alberto agreed with a grimace.
“More for me,” said Harry, putting the candy away again. “You guys can eat at the factory, maybe. Dad poached Chef Skinner from the Avery Hotel downtown for the cafeteria!”
Alberto frowned. “I thought you poached fish, not chefs.”
“What?” asked Harry.
Luca had another question. “Why is that part of the house so bare?” he asked.
That made Harry look even more confused. “What part? The servants' quarters?”
“I guess,” Luca said. They hadn't been given a name for the place where they'd spent the night. “The rest of the house is so fancy but there's nothing in there.”
“People go in the rest of the house,” said Harry. “Nobody visits the servants.”
So the nicer parts of the house were just for show, Luca thought. It was kind of like a museum. Maybe the family collected furniture and clocks and paintings the same way Signora Lorenzini in Genova collected old cameras, or Old Tommaso in Portorosso had all his fancy fishing flies.
Armstrong dropped them off at the school again. Luca and Alberto thanked him and waved as he drove away, then decided they'd better take the opportunity to get wet in the fountain again. Luca was about to jump in when Alberto grabbed his arm to hold him back.
“What?” asked Luca.
Alberto pointed. The eight-legged girl in the ankh necklace was next to the fountain, picking up pencils that had spilled from her case. They'd already gotten her wet twice by accident, a third time would just be ridiculous. Luca nodded, and the two of them climbed into the water to roll around and soak themselves a little more carefully.
Once the girl began to walk away, they were able to be more rambunctious. Alberto flicked water in Luca's direction, and Luca laughed and splashed back. It soon devolved into a water fight.
“Hey!” somebody shouted. “Tarantella! Wait up!”
The spider girl turned around and smiled. “Bridget!” she said, and ran to meet her friend. “I asked my parents about...”
As she passed the fountain, Alberto's tail threw water right in her face. She blinked a couple of times in surprise.
Alberto gave her a pained smile. “Sorry!”
Tarantella made a wordless growl of anger, grabbed her friend's arm, and stomped off.
Luca climbed back out of the fountain and looked at the other students milling around. It wasn't likely there'd be another tour after they'd just had one yesterday. “How do we get back to the factory?” he asked.
“Easy. The number four bus goes right to it,” Harry replied. “We can catch it right up the street, next to the Circle-Klaw.”
He showed them the way. The Circle-Klaw was one of a number of little shops in a long, low building on the corner. It seemed to sell mostly candy and newspapers, although there were also things like sandwiches and cigarette lighters and other small gadgets. It looked like a promising place to find something to eat, but Harry stopped Luca and Alberto from going in.
“You'll get better breakfast in the cafeteria,” he said. “Anyway, the bus might come while you're in there.”
So instead, they sat on a bench outside and waited. This was a risky thing to do – the day and night might be opposite here, but the seasons must have been similar, because the sun was already high and bright in the sky and Luca and Alberto were in serious danger of drying out. With monsters going by both in cars on the road and on foot (or tentacle) on the sidewalk, that would have been a disaster. Luckily, there was a puddle in the car park by the row of shops, and they went and rolled around in that.
Harry watched this with a slightly disgusted frown. “What happens if you guys dry out?” he asked.
“Terrible things,” said Alberto. “You wouldn't want to see.”
They were good and wet when the bus pulled up, but they were also muddy, with grit in their fins and gills. The latter was very uncomfortable, and Luca had to sit on his hands to keep himself from trying to groom or scratch as they bumped along, not wanting to risk rubbing the water away. Other people riding were giving them disapproving looks, some out of as many as seven eyes.
Apparently almost everybody on the bus was also going to the factory – when it stopped outside the car park, a dozen monsters grabbed jackets and lunch boxes and filed out the door. The boys waited until almost everybody else was gone, and then trooped back out into the sunshine.
As well as being sunny, there was a bit of wind blowing, so they needed to find another water source quickly. There was water in the ditch next to the chain link fence, but that was filthy and full of mosquito larvae, so they chose instead a puddle that had collected in a corner of the car park where the drain was plugged with old leaves. Luca and Alberto went and splashed in that, and it did a bit, though not much, to clean their clothes.
Once satisfactorily damp, they headed for the factory building. Harry happily scuttled right up to the front door, which Luca supposed was fine if his father owned the place – but then he had to step aside as somebody came out.
This was a three-legged, bumblebee-striped creature with two small horns and a thick tail, one Luca and Alberto recognized immediately as Louise. Curtis was trotting alongside her, with file folders under his arms, and the headless blue Steve was right behind them.
“This is totally unfair, Louise. A stain on your reputation!” Steve was saying, but there was a smile on his chest-mounted face.
Louise did not answer.
“You were just at the beginning of your career!” Steve went on, still following as she carried a stack of cardboard boxes across the car park. “Louise! I'm sure there's something we can do about this. Let me talk to the board for you...” he reached for her arm.
She whirled around, nearly smacking him in the face with her boxes. “If I have dinner with you, right?” she demanded.
Steve feigned shock. “You make it sound like I'm holding you hostage!”
She turned her back again and held the boxes up with a knee while she unlocked her car.
“Louise! I'm trying to do you a favour!” said Steve.
“I don't need a favour!” she told him.
“Then enjoy unemployment!” he shouted, fed up, and turned to storm back inside.
Harry and Alberto began to follow Steve into the building, but Luca lingered. Louise was rearranging things in the back of her car, while Curtis handed her folders and boxes. It was obvious what must have happened. Luca took a deep breath, and went up to talk to her.
“Madame?” he asked.
She looked over her shoulder. “Yes? Oh. It's you two. What do you want?” She wasn't angry, but she didn't want them there.
Luca glanced back at Alberto and Harry watching him, then asked, “did you lose your job because of us?”
Louise looked at him for a moment as if not sure what to say, and then she sighed. “No. I lost my job because Steve kicked up a big fuss and refused to take responsibility for it. Don't worry about it.”
“We could say something to the board,” Luca suggested. He didn't know what that was, but it was apparently important. “We could tell it he just saw us and freaked out for no reason, and then everybody would know it was his fault instead of yours.”
Louise shook her head. “Don't bother. You don't need to get involved in this, and it wouldn't help, anyway. It's as much politics as it is anything else.” She put the last box in the back seat, straightened up, and closed the car door. “Thanks for your help, Curtis.”
“No problem, Louise,” the moplike creature replied. “It's been a pleasure working with you. I'm gonna tell this Sullivan guy he's got a big trio of shoes to fill.” He shook Louise's hand.
“Thank you, Curtis. He doesn't deserve you,” Louise replied. She climbed into her car and started the engine.
“Hey!” Harry called from the factory entrance. “Are you guys coming?”
“Yeah,” sighed Luca. “Sorry, I'm on my way.”
“What did she say?” Alberto asked as they headed inside.
“She said it's not our fault she lost her job,” Luca replied, “but... it kinda is, isn't it? It wouldn't have happened if we hadn't been there.”
“She's the one who dragged us in here,” Alberto said. “Pretty sure that's her fault.”
That was one way to look at it, but Luca still felt uneasy.
Harry waved to the receptionist, who waved back with one of several arms but was too focused on paperwork to reply. There were several hallways leading away from the lobby, and Harry chose one at apparent random. Once they were around a corner and out of sight of most people, Harry gestured for Luca and Alberto to huddle around a water fountain with him.
“Okay,” he said, as Luca turned the fountain on to splash his face a little. “Where are these humans?”
Luca looked up from the water. “Can't we have breakfast first?” he asked.
“No,” said Harry firmly. “You said I'd get to see two humans. Where are they?”
Luca looked at Alberto. Alberto nodded, and took charge. “Funny you should ask – they're right over here!” He grabbed Luca, and dragged him into a janitor's closet. Harry tried to follow, but Alberto held up a hand. “You can't come in yet,” he said. “We'll tell the humans you're okay, and then call you.”
“Right.” Harry folded his arms across his chest and settled down to wait.
Alberto turned on the light and shut the closet door. The space was tiny, full of brooms and buckets and other such things, but there was a little sink in there in case they needed to get wet again in a hurry. Alberto shook the water off, while Luca pulled cloths down from a shelf to dry himself. When both were transformed again, they looked at their reflections in a small shaving mirror that somebody had left propped on the edge of the sink.
They'd looked a mess in their sea monster forms, and their human ones weren't much better. They had smudges of dirt on their faces and arms from rolling in the muddy puddle at the bus stop, and their hair was tousled and dirty. Luca didn't know what monsters found so scary about humans' appearance, but right than he and Alberto looked less intimidating than ever.
“Are we really gonna show him?” he asked.
“Relax,” Alberto said. “We'll show him, and then we send him out again, get wet, find Rocco's closet and go home. We're almost there.”
Luca nodded reluctantly, and then squared his shoulders. “Okay. Let's get it over with.”
“Harry!” Alberto called out. “You can come in now!”
The two of them stood there, feeling very awkward, as the door creaked open. Alberto straightened up with his hands on his hips and attempted a smile, and Luca did his best to imitated the posture. Harry cracked the door a little and peeked in, then opened it further and looked them over with a frown.
“It's just you,” he said.
Luca swallowed and looked at Alberto for help.
“Yes! It's us, the humans,” Alberto declared.
Harry glared at them. “No, I mean, it's you. Luca and Alberto.”
“No, we're not,” Alberto insisted. “My name is, uh, Ercole, and this is...” he looked at Luca expectantly. Luca just covered his eyes with one hand.
“I'm not dumb,” Harry huffed. “Your voices are the same, and you're wearing the same clothes. How did you do that?”
“We didn't...” Alberto began.
Luca interrupted. “This is what happens when we dry off,” he said. There was no point in trying to argue about it.
Harry reached out a cautious hand. “That's why you can live with humans?” he asked.
“Kind of,” said Luca.
“They know we're sea monsters,” Alberto clarified, “but they don't care.”
“Not everybody at my school knows, but the teachers do,” said Luca.
“And the humans aren't toxic?” Harry asked. His hand was still out, but he wasn't quite touching either of them.
Luca took the hand and gave it a squeeze – this made Harry flinch, but nothing happened.
“Not at all,” Luca said. “What they were saying in school yesterday, about venom or deadly diseases, or shocks or things like that, none of that's true. Humans don't work that way.”
For a few more moments Harry just stood there, processing this revelation. Then he grabbed Alberto's hand, too, and pulled them towards the door. “Come on! No... wait. Get wet again!” He let go and pointed to the sink. “We gotta show my Dad!”
Luca and Alberto struggled free. “No, we don't!” said Luca. The last thing he wanted was somebody as terrifying as Mr. Waternoose knowing their secret.
“We gotta get back to our world,” Alberto agreed.
“No, no,” Harry insisted. “Dad needs to know about this! If humans aren't actually toxic then nobody needs to be scared of them!”
Luca hesitated. Would that mean that humans and monsters could be friends now? It sounded like a good idea, but then where would the monsters get their power, if humans weren't scared enough to scream anymore?
Alberto's mind was already made up. “We kept our end of the deal,” he said. “We showed you the humans. Now you keep your part, and show us the way back!”
“You didn't show me any actual humans, you just showed me your human forms. That's different,” said Harry. “If you don't come with me, I won't help you find your door, and I'll tell Dad you were sneaking around and scaring his employees! You want to meet him when he's mad at you, or when he's happy?”
Luca had already observed that he wasn't sure Mr. Waternoose had ever been happy in his life, and the idea of him being angry with Luca and Alberto specifically did not bear thinking about. He looked at his friend, and found Alberto looking back helplessly, each hoping the other had a better idea.
Harry knew he'd won – when they turned to him again, the boys found him smiling triumphantly.
With little choice, Luca and Alberto wet themselves down again. Harry watched their transformations, fascinated, but did not ask question. He just took each of them by a wrist and led them to an elevator, which went all the way up to the very peak of Monsters Incorporated's imposing office block.
The top level was almost entirely occupied by Mr. Waternoose's expansive office. The room had tall glass panels separating it from the little hallway with the elevator, and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sprawling city. There were nice rugs and couches and potted plants, not unlike the ones at the house but more restrained. The impression was not so much of opulence but of order: everything was perfectly symmetrical and impeccably tidy.
Mr. Waternoose was standing behind his desk, shouting at a secretary. The glass muffled his words so they couldn't tell exactly what he was angry about, but his target – a yellow creature with black hair in a short ponytail, stood up on broad tentacles that made her look rather unfortunately like a banana, was cringing and shaking.
Harry hung back, and Luca and Alberto moved behind him as much as his grip on their arms would allow. As they watched, Waternoose turned around and thrust the stinger on the end of his tail into one of the twin potted palms behind his desk. The plant promptly withered, the leaves turning brown and dropping to the floor in a matter of seconds.
Breathing heavily, Waternoose faced the secretary again and said one final thing. She nodded, turned around, and fled to the elevator, throwing the office door open so hard Luca was afraid it would shatter. She took no notice whatsoever of the three boys on the way. As the elevator doors rumbled closed, she could be heard sobbing.
Waternoose looked around for something else to vent his anger on, spotted the twin of the dead plant, and pushed it over. A smaller creature with many millipede-like legs dashed into clean up the mess.
“Maybe now is not a good time,” said Luca.
“Yeah. Maybe we should just go,” Alberto agreed.
Harry looked unsure for a moment, then turned around and pressed the elevator button again. Unfortunately, only a single elevator went to this top floor, and they would have to wait for it to drop off the banana secretary before it could come back up. Until then, they were trapped with only windows between then and the still furious Mr. Waternoose – and when Luca looked back, his heard dropped as he realized the patriarch was heading for the door, ranting at another employee as he went.
“... and make sure this one has a spine! No more invertebrates!” he was saying, as a creature with two heads held the door for him.
“Yes, Mr. Waternoose!” said the head with one eye. The head with three eyes nodded eagerly.
Waternoose turned towards the elevators, and looked right at Harry, Alberto, and Luca. His bulging eyes narrowed, as if narrowing in on a target.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, stepping closer. He towered over the three boys, and Luca could feel his fin rays standing up straight in terror.
Harry stepped forward and swallowed hard. “Dad,” he said, “I know now's not the best time, but we've got something to show you.”
“You're supposed to be in school!” Waternoose roared.
“Yeah, but...”
“And you two!” Waternoose rounded on Luca and Alberto, who shrank back in unison. “Stay away from my son! I worked hard to get where I am. I'm not letting him waste the family fortune on favours for money-grubbing nobodies who couldn't scare a butterfly!”
“Dad! We know how to get more scream!” Harry insisted.
That finally seemed to make Hank Waternoose listen. For a moment he looked startled, but then he scoffed. “What would they know about scream?”
Harry stood up a little taller. “You always say that Grandpa founded this company on hard work and entrepreneurial spirit,” he said. “Well, I've got some of that right here! This is so good it might be extrapreneurial!”
“I don't think that's a real word,” Luca ventured.
Behind them, the green light came on and the bell chimed, and the elevator doors rumbled open. Waternoose herded the three children inside and pressed the button for the ground floor. They began to descend, and Luca swallowed hard. He, Alberto, and Harry were now trapped in a tiny metal room with this huge, terrifying monster.
“What's your idea?” Waternoose asked.
Harry smiled, and played his ace. “Humans aren't dangerous!”
“What?” his father asked.
“They're not! Luca and Alberto know because they live with them!” Harry pointed. “We don't actually need to go to all this trouble to keep them out of our world. We can bring them here and keep them in cages and get scream whenever we want!”
Luca's heart sank right down to his toes and possibly right through the floor. That wasn't at all what he'd been thinking of. Were they going to put Rocco in a cage? Were they going to put him and Alberto in cages?
“You can't do that!” Alberto protested.
“Sure, we can!” Harry replied. “We keep cows for their milk and chickens for their eggs. Why not keep humans for their screams?”
“Harry!” barked Waternoose.
“I can prove it!” Harry went on, determined to tell the entire story. “When they dry out, they turn into humans! That's why they had to stay wet at dinner last night! You'll see in a moment and you can touch them yourself, and then...”
“Harry Waternoose, shut up!”
Harry stopped in mid-sentence, closing his mouth with an audible click of his teeth.
“You idiot,” Waternoose growled. “What do you think will happen if people find out you can just walk into the human world?”
“They'll... um... get more energy?” Harry tried. His five eyes darted back and forth, perhaps seeking an escape, perhaps looking for a clue as to what he'd said wrong.
“Yes, they will,” said Waternoose. “Everybody will get more energy all by themselves. The economy will collapse. Is that what you want for your grandfather's legacy, Harry? For your family to go broke while everybody has their own private human for a source of scream? Is that why I bought out Hardscrabble and drove Nightmare Corp to bankruptcy? Your grandfather and I put a lot of work into convincing the world that humans are deadly, and I'm not going to let you undo it all with this nonsense!”
Harry lowered himself on his many legs until his body was resting on the floor, cowering in terror. Luca felt his mouth go very dry.
The rest of him was going very dry, too. He could feel the tingle in his fingers and toes as they began to transform. He thrust his hands behind his back to try to hide it, but he knew it was futile. When he looked at Alberto, he, too, was already transforming. Luca then tried Harry, hoping the monster boy would distract his father until the elevator stopped – although what he and Alberto would do then, Luca had no idea.
Harry was no help. He caught Luca's eye, then sucked in a breath and pointed at him. “There! You see? You see?”
Waternoose turned around as the elevator grumbled to a halt, and looked them over slowly and coldly. Luca reached for Alberto and felt around until he found his friend's hand, unwilling to look away from Waternoose in case that spiked tail came down. Alberto's other hand found Luca's shoulder, and they took a step back only to find that the elevator doors were still closed behind their backs.
“Yes, I see,” said Waternoose. “Nobody can know. The... evidence... will have to be destroyed.”
Light glinted on his stinger as it twitched.
Then a miracle happened, and the elevator doors opened. Luca and Alberto didn't look back. They just ran.
Waiting for the elevator in the hall was a creature that resembled a haystack of orange fur. Next to it was a blue individual with a face in his chest – Steve. He laid eyes on the two boys, screamed again, and leaped at the orange haystack. A pair of arms resembling a bird's legs emerged from the fur and caught him. This left Luca and Alberto a free path down the hallway, and they ran as fast as they could.
It was almost lunchtime, and the hallways were full of people – people who were shouting, diving out of the way, or running as they saw what appeared to be humans in their midst. They needed to somehow hide, and for that, they needed water. A sluglike yellow creature with short, rubbery spikes all over its body was carrying a mop and pulling a bucket of water. When it saw Luca and Alberto it screamed and tried to run, but was not able to move fast, so all it could do was curl up with its arms over its head and say a prayer. The boys snatched up the bucket and poured its contents over themselves, then Alberto threw it back in the direction they'd come before moving on.
This was the first time Luca had looked to see if Waternoose were chasing them, and was horrified to see that he was, the monster's many legs clattering against the floor as he came. He ducked under the thrown bucket and kept coming, and Luca didn't dare look back a second time as they fled.
“Get those kids!” Waternoose ordered. “They're spies!”
Now people were no longer running away from them or spreading panic, but that was almost worse. Hearing Waternoose, a thing like a purple gorilla tried to grab them. They ducked just in time, only to come up against a neon green creature with horns and batlike wings. It tried to catch them in the membranes between its fingers, and they escaped that only to almost run right into the mouth of a pink beast that seemed to be nothing buck teeth and eyes. Alberto kicked it in the chin, which made it bite its tongue. It screamed in pain as the boys scrambled away.
In the chaos, Luca suddenly spied something familiar – a mop of grey fur under a yellow hard hat, with two eyes on stalks sticking out.
“We know that guy!” he exclaimed. Luca pulled Alberto towards the figure. “Sir! Curtis!” That was his name, right? “We need help!”
Curtis turned around, startled. “Oh, it's you kids. What are...”
Luca and Alberto each grabbed one of his arms. These were lilac-coloured, and scaly.
“We gotta get out of here!” Alberto said.
“We need to find Louise!” Luca told him. Louise would know where Rocco's closet door was. She used it all the time.
“Aren't you the kids who lost her job for her?” Curtis asked.
“She said it was Steve's fault, not ours,” said Luca.
“Lieberman!” roared Waternoose, pushing his way through the crowd the boys had just scaped. “Give me those kids! Don't listen to a word they say, they're liars!”
Alberto let go of Curtis, took Luca's hand, and they ran again. Curtis turned to shout after them.
“What is going...” he began, then hollered in surprise as Waternoose shoved him into the wall on the way by. “Hey!” Curtis protested as he picked himself up. “This is workplace harrassment!”
Waternoose ignored him and continued his pursuit. His many legs clattered on the tiles, and then one came down in a broken corner and got stuck there. He howled in frustration and yanked it out, but that allowed the boys to get a little further ahead.
The spark of hope this offered burned a little brighter as they saw ahead of them a closed door with an emergency exit sign. That must lead outside! They threw themselves against it, and swung open, sunlight flooding into their faces. It was blinding, almost painful, after the dimmer light indoors, but they couldn't afford to stop. They kept running out into the car park, ignoring the wailing of the alarm they'd set off.
“Get those boys!” roared Waternoose. “Somebody get them!”
They ran between the rows of parked cars, trying to lose him there. After a few moments, Luca realized that over his own desperate heavy breathing, he could no longer hear Waternoose's footsteps. There were voices shouting but they were further away than he expected, almost drowned out by the calling of gulls overhead.
When he dared a look back, he realized that the emergency door was too small to easily admit Waternoose's massive body with its many widely-set legs. He was having to wriggle through piece by piece, with help from his employees, and nobody else could use the door while he did. They were finally gaining on him.
When he dared a look up, he saw that some of the gulls had two heads.
“Water!” Alberto said, and pulled Luca after him. The car park was surrounded by the drainage ditch, which was full of horrible muddy water. It was even worse than the puddle they'd splashed in that morning, but with no other obvious options the boys jumped in anyway. It tasted even worse than it looked, and as Luca had feared, it was full of mosquito larvae and garbage. Even so, they tried not to breath as they crawled along the bottom, trying not to let a single fin protrude, and climbed into the culvert underneath the entrance road. There they huddled, intermittently poking their heads out to breathe clean air instead of filthy water, while Waternoose ordered people to search every car in the lot.
Sounds were muffled in the culvert but they could hear shouts and car doors opening and shutting. Once there was the sound of shattering glass, and in another place it sounded like somebody was picking the vehicles up to look under them before letting them thump back down. Just when they were beginning to think they'd found a safe hiding spot, a voice asked, “do you think they're in the water?”
Luca and Alberto held their breath.
“I don't think so,” somebody else said. “I'm amphibious and I wouldn't go in that water. It's gross.”
The boys breathed out.
“Oh, yes they would!” shouted Harry.
They sucked the breath back in. Luca almost choked on a dead butterfly that was in the water, and Alberto had to whack him on the back until he coughed it up.
“If they don't stay wet, they change back!” Harry declared. “Even if it's gross they have to be in the water!”
“Snitch!” Alberto muttered.
“Search the ditch,” Waternoose ordered. “And drain the wastewater pond.”
#fanfic#pixar luca#luca 2021#monsters inc#monsters university#luca paguro#alberto scorfano#scary monsters
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Locations for anything
~Locations~
Abandoned Location
Agencies
Air Balloon Park
Airport
Animal Shelter
Animation Studio
Apartment
Aquarium
Arcade
Art Studio
Bakery
Ballroom
Bank
Bar/Pub
Barn
Barnes and Noble
B&B Castle/Cabin
Beach/Beach House
Books-a-million
Bowling Alley
Cabin in the Woods
Castle
Campgrounds
Caves
Cemeteries
Church (don't have to be religious)
Clinic
Club
Community Center
Conventions
Courthouse
Daycare/Preschool
Dealership
Disney World/Land
Drug Den
Enchanted Forest
Factory
Fae Realm
Farmhouse
Festivals
Firestation
Floating Islands
Forest
Freddy Fazbears Pizza Place
Gas Station
Glass Artist Workshop
Graveyard/Crypts
Gym
Hair/Nail Salon
Haunted House
Hiking Trails
Homeless Shelter
Hospital
Hotel
Hot Springs
Job Finder Depot
Kingdom
Lake
Library
Lighthouse
Live Theater
Lotus Fields
Love Hotel
Maid cafe
Mansion
Marketplace (+Blackmarket)
Morgue
Motel
Mountain
Movie Theater
Museum
Neighborhood
Observatory
Orchards
Orphanage
Park
Police Station
Ports
Post Office
Prison
Radio/Tv Studio
Ranch/Farm
Red Light District
Restaurant
River
School/Collage Grounds
Secret Location
Shelters
Skating rink
Snowy Mountain Ski Lodge/Resort
Spa
Space
Space Station
Temple
Train Rides
Trailer Park
Tribe
Vet
Yat
Yoga Studio
Zoo
~Shops~
Adult Store
Animatronic Shop
Antique Shop
Baby Store
Bakery Shop
Barber Shop
Bike Shop
Boba Shop
Book Shop
Bridal Shop
Butcher Shop
Candy Shop
Casket Store
Clothing Shop
Cobbler Shop
Coffee Shop
Comic Shop
Corner Store
Cosmetic Store
Costume Shop
Crafting Shop
Donut Shop
Electronic Store
Fabric Store
Flower Shop
Furniture Store
Gamestop
Grocery Store
Gypsy Market
Hardware Store
Hatter Shop
Hottopic
Ice Cream Shop
IKEA
Instrument Shop
Jewelry Shop
Leather Shop
Magic Shop
Pawn Shop
Pet Shop
Photography Shop
Pizza Shop
Potion Shop
Ramen Shop
Record/Vinyl Shop
Sandwich Shop
Spirituality Store
TailorShop
Tattoo Shop
Tea Shop
Thrift Store
Toy Shop
Wand Shop
Weapons/Firearms Shop
Woodcarver Shop
X Rated Shop
~In a Mall~
Bath and Bodyworks
Bridal Shop
Build-a-bear
Claire’s
Discovery Planet/Channel Store
Food Court
FYE
Gamestop
H&M
HotTopic
Spencer’s
Victoria Secret
Waldenbooks
~Fast Food Places~
Arby’s
Burger King
Dairy Queen
KFC
Smoothie King
Starbucks
Popeyes
Waffle House
~Realms/Worlds~
Dream Realm
Fae Realm
Mirror World
Over Realm
Shadow Realm
Underworld
Aether World
Nether World
Note: I'd be happy to add more over time, if there's any places that would be valuable to add comment it and I’ll add it ^^
#Locations#writers#roleplay#character sheet#fanfic writing#discord rp#writer inspiration#writing prompt#story ideas#character bio#anime oc#fandom stuff#fandom#artists on tumblr#writers on tumblr#my writing#alternate universe#ship art
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Pushe · Xikou Homestay in Xikou Town, #China by y.ad studio Read more: Link in bio! Photography: SCHRAN Shanghai-based y.ad studio transformed an architectural complex consisting of a former hospital and several old factory dormitories into a bed & breakfast. The project is located in the Rural Future Community in Xikou Town, Zhejiang Province. After site investigation and analysis, the architects conceived the design by centering on three questions… #hotel #brick #архитектура www.amazingarchitecture.com ✔ A collection of the best contemporary architecture to inspire you. #design #architecture #amazingarchitecture #architect #arquitectura #luxury #realestate #life #cute #architettura #interiordesign #photooftheday #love #travel #construction #furniture #instagood #fashion #beautiful #archilovers #home #house #amazing #picoftheday #architecturephotography #معماری (at Xikou, Zhejiang, China) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj5eTaQr1yM/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#china#hotel#brick#архитектура#design#architecture#amazingarchitecture#architect#arquitectura#luxury#realestate#life#cute#architettura#interiordesign#photooftheday#love#travel#construction#furniture#instagood#fashion#beautiful#archilovers#home#house#amazing#picoftheday#architecturephotography#معماری
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Cincinnati Women Who Smoked Endured Disdain, Harassment And Even Divorce
Back in the 1970s, with the tagline “You’ve come a long way, baby,” the Virginia Slims cigarette brand published a series of humorous advertisements linking a woman’s right to smoke with women’s liberation in general. A typical ad portrayed a sepia-toned damsel sneaking a smoke in the basement, with the caption:
“In 1915, Mrs. Cynthia Robinson was caught smoking in the cellar behind the preserves. Although she was 34, her husband sent her straight to her room.”
Boffo yucks, no? But did those advertisements really reflect reality? In Cincinnati, at least, that was very much the way things were. Queen City women who smoked faced all sorts of harassment. Lighting up a cigarette was not only grounds for divorce, but evidence that a woman hankered for the louche life of a prostitute.
The Cincinnati Enquirer [13 November 1900] related the sad tale of Arthur Graham and his newlywed wife, Viola:
“Arthur Graham, a young shoemaker who is employed in a big factory on West Fourth street, between Main and Sycamore streets, believed that he was the happiest fellow on earth, and that his wife was the soul of honor, until she began to spend his wages for cigarettes. That set him to thinking, and he was not at all surprised when she left him. He heard that she had entered a house on Longworth street, and yesterday afternoon he called Patrol 1 and had her removed from the place to Central Station, where the mismatched couple told their troubles to Lieutenant Geist. She was released on her promise to return home.”
It appears that the Grahams patched things up despite her sojourn on Longworth Street. Although that infamous avenue was the very heart of Cincinnati’s red-light district, it might be uncharitable to imagine Viola engaging in naughty behavior. Maybe she sought employment in a brothel as a maid or a cook. Maybe. In any event, the couple remained together until Arthur died in 1966. Perhaps they learned to share an ash tray.
Not so George Osgood of 256 Butler Street. He was granted a divorce in 1902 from Mary “Millie” Osgood. George told the judge that Millie started on a “faithless career” by smoking cigarettes and had even adopted an alias as “Kate Keller,” a typical practice by prostitutes at the time.
In 1914, truck driver William Middaugh of West Fourth Street filed for divorce from his wife, Cassie, because she smoked cigarettes in front of company. Apparently, sneaking a smoke behind the preserves was okay by him.
The situation was somewhat more complicated when Charles W. Mangan’s wife filed for divorce in 1917. Mangan, employed by the Central Railway and Hotel Distributing Company on Reading Road, responded that Nettie Mangan not only smoked, but drank and threw furniture at him.
Similarly, John H. Gardner of 1036 Findlay Street had more than tobacco on his mind when he filed for divorce in 1922. His wife, Nellie, he alleged, not only smoked cigarettes, but spent his money at the racetrack and absconded to Phoenix with another man.
When she lit up a smoke on their 1925 honeymoon, Mabel Collinsworth Kopp “shattered the ideals” of her groom, Melville Kopp. Asserting that she also read “questionable” magazines, Melville, who made his living playing the organ at movie theaters, filed for divorce. Mabel responded that Melville had only married her to escape the affections of another young lady and that Melville’s parents never liked her. Melville told the court that his mother objected to Mabel’s smoking.
As early as 1885, cigarette smoking raised serious questions about a woman’s morals. The Cincinnati Post [3 November 1885] interviewed a dealer in second-hand books at his stall on Fifth Street near Mound. That neighborhood included several elementary schools and the reporter, noticing that the book monger offered several brands of cigarettes for sale, assumed that his customers were school children. Not so. It was women who bought the smokes. The dealer told the Post:
“I believe there are more women than men who smoke in this part of town – and drink – if you could see as much of it as I do. I believe there are five women to one man in this locality who drink.”
This led the Post reporter, it appears, to reconsider his entire opinion of the fairer sex.
“The old gentleman placed the smoking and drinking by women in juxtaposition and the Post realized that the woman who stimulates with a cigarette will soon not object to a fluid stimulant.”
That is just the opinion, nearly 35 years later, expressed by Rabbi David Philipson of Rockdale Temple, who in a 1919 sermon, excoriated “slaves to fashion” who smoke, drink, “emulate chorus girls” and regard as old fogies those decent folks who try to abide by “laws of decency and reverence.
The rabbi was strongly seconded by famed evangelist William Ashley "Billy" Sunday, who blew into Cincinnati on a 1921 crusade. After blasting a veritable menagerie of modern wickedness, Sunday zeroed in on one particular target: the “damphool woman” who smokes cigarettes. “She’s skating on thin ice,” he thundered as his audience at the First Presbyterian Church shouted “Amen.”
Having none of this was Allene Sumner, author of the “Woman’s Day” column in the Cincinnati Post. When the National Fire Protection Association proclaimed that incendiary hazards had increased astronomically since women took up smoking, Ms. Sumner was roused [9 June 1927] to feminist ardor:
“They say sarcastic things about ‘the natural refinement of women rapidly succumbing to this habit.’ Wonder just how many generations it will be before human minds will function sufficiently rationally to have shed tradition and prejudice and do enough straight thinking to see that there is little or no connection between ‘a woman’s refinement’ and whether she smokes or not, any more than whether or not she can be refined and eat chocolates or drink coffee?”
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Getting lost in the infinity of elegance at the hotel reception desk. ✨ #eleganthotels #infiniteelegance #luxurytravel #hotelreception #travelinstyle #luxuryhotel #hôtel #hotelfurniture #hoteldesign #sagistgroup
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Daniel sound waayy too bitter in that article, I liked Daniel outside of the car but lately hes been too much of an old bitter man, I struggle to warm up to him because he was a fucking bully to Lando in late 2020 but I let it pass because he was ass (lol) , he finally admit that he knows what to do, that Lando help him and share what to do with him but he lacks the technical knowledge to immitate him and that is 100% his fault.
I have this belief that one of the reasons nothing worked for him, not the upgrades, his setups and Landos setups is because he doesn't know how to describe whats wrong or which part he is struggling with (apart from the brake, which is his "speciality"), mechanics in every single team he has been had mention his lack of interest and knowledge of the car, the reason he did great in RB was because (this was said by Christian and Marko) he was using Max setups and since both of them formed in the same teams he could keep up until Max begin to make his setups more aggresive. The "I race with vibes" was not a joke.
Daniel lack of interest last year seal his future, like idk if you remember when Andreas (?) commented that Daniel barely did any sin work and that he was barely in the MTC while at the same time calling Lando furniture because he was there too much and then this year Daniel said that he was working really hard and then you read the article and it was just that he was doing sim work 💀.
He really thought mclaren wouldn't dare to fired him and that he was safe. And he still cant admit he at fault for this, he is a grown man with a decade of experience making excuses for driving like a rookie and wont drive in other teams because he thinks he too good like he hasn't driving at the same pace as them 2 years.
I love how detailed this ask is and I’d forgotten about the whole “vibes” thing or the comment about his lack of interest.
Sadly Daniel has brought this on himself. I still maintain if you are a “great” driver you can adapt to anything. All those of his experience have proven they can, Lewis, Seb, Fernando, Valtteri, Carlos, Sergio. Kimi was a master of it.
Meanwhile Lando, threw himself into driving anything the team would let him, George is the same, Max drives different things for fun, Alex did a year of DTM, even Pierre is up for a bit of off roading. They all don’t want to get too comfortable with the one car, just in case.
If I’m being kind, Daniel got blindsided by the generation that came through. 8 or so years ago the karting press were talking about the talent of Max, Charles, George and Lando. People were touting Pierre, Esteban, Nyck, Alex, Lance, Mick for F1. There was so many of them and Daniel acted as though it wasn’t a problem, he had this. But they were all great and F1 bound. They now make up half the grid and he isn’t the number 1 in a team that leans towards him. It too late to see them off now.
Also bless him, Lando was part of the furniture as he was told to come to the factory any time of day or night if his anxiety got too much, so he did. I spoke to a McLaren employee who told me he would just randomly turn up with biscuits and start making tea for people. He discussed with the team about moving to Monaco. He is a complete and utter nerd and absorbs data. Lando actually admitted that was one of the things he worked on, was being able to vocalise how the car felt to his engineers.
Maybe the biggest downfall for Daniel was he was so different to Lando in that respect. He didn’t want to be at the track at midnight going over data. He didn’t want to stay behind to help pack up rather than go back to an empty hotel room. He didn’t love sim work. I don’t know. And let’s be fair, until last year Lewis didn’t want to do any of those things either. He proudly told journalists he did 2 days of sim work a year!
I think Daniel really needs to do some soul searching. I honestly don’t think he realises how many people he has thrown under the bus along the way to end up where he is. Things he’s said about Red Bull, about Renault, now McLaren. I think his comments about Lando will age as well as his comments about Max.
I think ultimately he just wants a to be a racing driver and doesn’t deal well with all the other crap. In some ways he is like Kimi in that respect, but he doesn’t have the career stats or natural god given talent Kimi has (to be fair few do). As I’ve said before, the sad reality is that Lewis or Kimi or I think even Fernando would be doing what Lando is doing and dragging that car into Q3 week in week out, on a wing and a prayer. That’s what Daniel needed to do.
I think he is a little bitter, because he realises this could be it and he’s not ready to go. But wishing for a Jenson Button set up where someone hands you a championship winning car, set up for you, from the start of the season is a fantasy.
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First Stone Main 7 Production Lines
Our main 7 production lines：
Tiles and Stairs - Swimming Pool Coping - Countertops and Sink
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5) Lonneker Spoorlaan Project
6) Plein 1940 Rotterdam Project
7) De Knoop Project
8) Bosuilstraat Project
9) Room Weg Project
10) Stroinks Bleek Park Project
11) Voormalig Grolsch-Terrein Project
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THE LONG ROAD TO A VISION
The Pods Factory was founded by Robin Hagedoorn, creator of Bunk Hotels, and Bram Breukers, social furniture and logistics expert. Bunk Hotels, award-winning luxury hostels that bridge the gap between hotel and hostel, served as the initial testing grounds for what has now become The Pods Factory.
Pod hotels are not new. They have successfully existed in Japan for decades, although the Japanese-style pods are very cramped. Not very appealing. But the space-saving and privacy idea is simply fantastic. “When I started on Bunk, refurbishing two old churches into luxury hostels, I knew I wanted pods,” says Robin Hagedoorn. “But I wanted luxury pods. I wanted our guests to have a premium experience for an excellent price. I wanted the pods to be produced sustainably. I wanted different types. They had to be modular. Durable. Easy to install. Easy to clean. Tailor-made.” Enter Bram Breukers, who joined forces with Hagedoorn to materialize his vision. It was easier said than done. The road toward this pod vision proved to be long and bumpy. It took over a year of searching, planning, measuring, testing, making mistakes, and making them again until the perfect pod was finally born. “I am a bit of a perfectionist,” Hagedoorn smiles. “When we finally created the perfect product, we had actually created a pod factory,” says Breukers. “So, we decided to help other hoteliers trailblaze toward the future of hospitality, not having to reinvent the wheel repeatedly. Thus, The Pods Factory was born. We invite you to check out Bunk, the other colleagues in hospitality we helped, and, of course, our pods to discuss how The Pods Factory can help you create more revenue and a fantastic pod experience for your guests. We strongly feel that everybody gains in the transformation process toward a pod-filled future: guests and owners alike.
We are looking forward to talking to you.”
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