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blogport · 6 months ago

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EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (3)

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not-that-dillinger · 2 months ago

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🧞

For Ed!

@the-haunted-office

"Three wishes with no consequences? Okay, uh..." Ed looked down at the floor, though his gaze seemed to be focused on something further. Or on nothing at all. "Three wishes, and only three, so I gotta make them count, right? But. How concrete do they have to be? Like, what if I wished for a perfect world? would the wish granter know what I meant by that? Or does it have to be realistic? like, if I wished I could morph into a...I'd say a pigeon, but pigeons have predators, so... maybe an owl? Or maybe something smaller, like a house sparrow? What if I wished I could shapeshift into a bird and back into a human at will? would that be granted?"

Ed tapped his lips with his index finger. There was a very long pause, and then he sighed. He slipped off his glasses with one hand, and pulled out his cleaning cloth with the other. Despite the lenses being in pristine condition, he brought them up to his mouth, breathed on them, and then folded the cleaning cloth over both sides and rubbed at the lenses in circles to polish them.

"I..." his tone went up a pitch, but he spoke at a near whisper. "I wish I could finally be safe," he said finally, "that I didn't have to constantly look over my shoulder in fear that he'd send Peter or someone else to abduct me and force me to work for him. I... I don't necessarily wish he were dead--I don't want to wish for his death, that's a terrible thing to wish for--though it feels like that is the only way I ever will be safe. Maybe... maybe if fCon went bankrupt, if he lost the company and all his financial assets? I don't know if even that would do it. Or... Or that Everyone would forget that I'm his son. That we're related. Everyone including him. It would be better if he would forget that I existed. That--That would actually take care of another wish, that Mackey would stop pointing fingers at me every time something went wrong, or at least he'd have to find another excuse besides my supposed 'connection' to the CEO of our biggest competitor. Maybe then, everyone will see me, and not... not his shadow."

He fell silent again, rubbing the cleaning cloth in endless circles on his glasses as he thought.

"I'd like my health back. The CFS and chronic carpel tunnel syndrome gone for good, and maybe the celiac's disease and allergies. But--but not just my physical health. My mental health as well. The anxiety and depression gone. Though, I don't necessarily want my memories erased. I don't know who I would be without them. I fear I would be someone worse that I am, but... they're the root cause of..." he gestured toward the top of his head, toward his skull. "all of that mess."

Ed sighed. "What else? I think I still have one more? The bird shape-shifting thing would be cool, gotta admit. Or... I'd say the ability to eat a loaf of fresh bred without it fucking me over for a week, but the second wish has that covered. Infinite loaves of bread? All the croissants and cakes and sourdough bread I could ever wish for? Y-know, my mum, before-- before she divorced him, she took on a job as a baker, to pay the bills. She'd come home smelling of bread, and... I never got to taste any of it. Heard from her coworkers that she was quite talented at it. But. What I remember most about her, was the specific blend of chamomile-lavender tea she used to make for me when I had nightmares when I was a kid. I don't know what specific blend she used, and none of the ones I find taste quite the same. I wish I knew which one she used to buy. But... even more... I wish... I wish I could find her. Reconnect with her or at least... I dunno. Know for certain that she doesn't want me in her life any more or something."

He took shaky breath. "So. Yeah. That's what I'd wish for."

#the void screams back #thanks for the ask!#spaceyraccoon #/* ouch ed buddy... */#edcanons

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edgyedgelord · 1 year ago

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I'm supposed to be writing right now but I want to say something that I tell myself. I hope it helps you too.

Art isn't just a hobby. It can be a job. It's not a perfect job, but it's still a job that makes you happy. Not many other career paths can say that. Warning: This is a tangent post made by an anarchist. If you don't want to read a long novel length ramble about why money is a corrupting construct and capitalism is made to break poor people move along.

I've noticed in my 21 years on this planet, nearing the 22 mark as spring approaches, that jobs are often given a value. If you're a doctor you've got a high quality job because you went to school, got a degree, and get paid a lot. But what about nurses? They work in the same place and went to school for a certification, some a degree as well, but they aren't paid as much and are treated poorly. Why? Well because they're not doctors. They can have the same amount of knowledge, sometimes more depending on who the doctor is, but their job is seen as lower just because of the pay and general view of it in the eyes of society.

Most of the people who will tell you all this and which job is the most valuable and what to go for actually don't know much about the inner workings. Go ahead, ask someone who's told you something like this if they've done much research outside of watching a video on social media and reading random posts without checking the validity behind them.

Another things with doctors, nurses, construction workers, all these jobs everyone tells you to get instead of something you'd actually enjoy is they don't face the fact, or rather they choose to just accept the fact and do nothing about it, that those in charge are gonna kick. you. around. until you give up or give in. Those who give up usually didn't even want the job in the first place. Those who give in always dreamed of this job but once they're in it that blind optimistic veil is torn away.

Zom100 is an anime that opens with a guy going into an office job where he works for a company that produces commercials. He's a writer for the scripts and helps with casting and went in expecting to make tons of friends, meet stars, and even falls for the secretary and wishes to confess to her one day. It starts off all bright and colorful since that's how he views the world in his eyes. After going out drinking with his coworkers after their first day of work is done, everything stops. The happy smiles and attitudes of his employees vanish as they return to work and our protagonist is met with the horrible work grind culture he's walked into. Yet, he stays optimistic in the hopes he can stay strong only to finally break after a year of working at the business. He stumbles home from exhaustion to his now trashed apartment full of garbage bags, trash covering the floors, just looking like a dump because he's to exhausted from working and staying at the office days at a time to be able to clean up.

I love the first episode of Zom100, although only the first episode, because it does a FANTASTIC job at giving a message I live by. "Do not settle for treatment that is less than what you deserve." It shows what happens when you go for the give in option of what I mentioned earlier. If your boss is dumping work on you but not anyone else, call them out. If you're being harassed in the workplace and there is a clear bias because of your gender, race, or anything else, call them out. If your pay is far less than the amount you work, call them out. If they refuse to make any changes despite you having concrete evidence because they will lose the money they have to spare, quit and call them out.

The older folk in my life have told me time and time again that "You work for bad people to pay worse people and then die." (Not a direct quote but it summarizes what they say.) These people come from a time where there was an even worse imbalance in power and they had to give in to live due to the many things going on in the world at that time that made living conditions horrible if you weren't already super rich. It isn't like that anymore though.

The economy and people in power is still messed up yes we need to work on that but that isn't what this post is about.

Glitch Studios is an animation studio aiming to give independent animation a place to shine and has been doing so with MASSIVE success. It's thanks to them that indie work is finally getting looked at by bigger studios. Personally, I see this as a sign that art is finally getting a more proper place in the general view of society as a proper career path. Only issue is it's focused on animation.

I'm not an animator, I'm a writer and lover of comics. Would I want some of my stuff adapted into animation? By fans out of love for the works, yes, as an official adaptation for profit? No.

It's not a smart move marketing wise or profit wise but that's the thing. I'm not some old white guy sitting on a throne of gold bars in a big evil company business building, I'm a 20 something at a desk in a dusty apartment room surrounded by goofy posters and plushies. I don't care about money, I care about making things I and others love. I think that's what people have forgotten recently when it comes to working in this world. You can work and work and work and pay rent and be able to buy that new outfit to wear at your family gathering to show off but how long will you be happy from that? Small moments of joy is fine and treating yourself is fine too, but what do you do to make yourself happy while still fulfilling a purpose? Do you feel like you fulfill a purpose? What did you want to do, not need to do.

Working retail is seen as your go to starter job or just what you go to when you need to pay the bills. It's not a shameful thing to do, nor is any job when you just need an income for necessities. But, what if that's what you want to do? You don't want a giant house, you don't want a fancy car, you don't want Gucci clothes, you enjoy the simple job and lifestyle. That's fine. No matter if your parents say you're throwing away your potential, no matter if the world says you need to run a company, no matter what people say it is okay to have simple goals and a simple life.

Minimalism is the practice of only having what you need for what you want to do. This is the video that first got me thinking about it.

youtube

It's something I think people need to be taught about more. Now I'm not saying you shouldn't go and sell off everything you own, but maybe at least think "Do I really need a $200 phone from a popular brand that doesn't even come with a charger? Do I need it? What parts of it validate the cost?"

Now here is how this all ties back to my overall message with this tangent.

I want to make indie comics because it makes me happy. It makes my friends who have helped me shaped the stories, characters, and everything else happy. And, overall, I hope it makes others happy too. Not to mention, I can't exactly think about signing up with some popular publishing company because of how loudly of an anarchist I am and how diverse I make my work.

Why I'm making this post is because I want to get you thinking about this too. Are you happy with whatever job you have right now? Are you fairly treated? Is this what you want? Are you brainwashed by societal norms made by the big companies that you need whatever big and fancy phone or computer set up you're reading this on? If you said no to any of this I suggest looking into your own personal rights as a human being and standing up for yourself, think about forming a union if need be. If your issue is with buying expensive things you don't even need feel free to trade them in or sell them and get what you need and can be happy with while having extra money left over.

Remember, you don't need to be make a billion dollars each week to be successful. Happiness is from what you do and what makes you happy, not your bank account amount or how many bedrooms you have in a mansion. Most of all, happiness is what you choose to make it not what some old jerks who think Trump is a sane man say it is.

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elleryhart · 7 months ago

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Write, dear Hart -- Entry 2

I spent some time locked up, but I’ve managed, as it will be quite obvious, to get myself out. There was some little help, and I have repaid the favor. This was before [image of a flower] of course, but in my haste to get that bit down, I forgot it should be mentioned.

Some of my time after this is a blur. I took up doing odd jobs, and made myself enough to get rooms above a gambling den, and met [image of a wide hat]. I should have left [image of a wide hat] alone, as meeting them had only made my nightmares worse. [image of a pen] found me bleary and unkempt in the street one evening, avoiding the rest that had been plaguing me and told me they knew of a solution. [image of a pen] kept me company for a few nights, watching over me while I slept, and finally my nightmares seem to pass. I think some of the fault lies with me for giving that d__n statue some blood on a whim, but I have no concrete proof of this.

[image of a closed eye] got to me eventually. [image of a closed eye] seems to think something can be done with me. I do believe it’s [image of a closed eye]’s doing for my many recent windfalls and new acquaintances. I could not begin to enumerate them here in a list, as I fear I will run out of paper, but as they make themselves important in my life –as friend, as foe, and mentor –I will make them known.

[Here the handwriting changes slightly, and the ink quality is different. Some time has likely passed, but a new entry has not begun.

[image of a flower tied with a black ribbon] has called me a (and this is a near-direct quote) weasel who has been taught to knife-fight by a drunk. It seems I must clean myself up. I am saving for a new hat and a coat. Perhaps trousers are in order as well.

[two circles that seem to be halo’d] says my writing is poor. I suspect this is why [image of a closed eye] gave me their name. I feel the need to get the clothing [image of a flower tied with a black ribbon] suggested before we meet in person –it may be important.

It seems to be a day to dress me down, as it were. No matter. I know they mean well.

[image of a military badge] wishes to duel. Many such instances these days, with my new ribbon adornment. I look forward to the challenge.

[image of a gargoyle] is the most… curious sort. Gave me a weasel figure which contained a garrote. I would normally have considered this a threat, but it seems to have been meant as a friendly overture. I do not know what to make of [image of a gargoyle]

#elleryhart #fallen london oc #fallen london #writing; ellery #ok corrected this time sldkjfg

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tipsycad147 · 1 year ago

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Pagan Funerals: Burials, Customs, and Pagan Funeral Songs

posted by : kitty fields

Death can be scary for anyone and everyone. As a pagan witch, I have no shortage of thoughts about it. And if you’re here, you likely do too. Or perhaps you’ve lost a loved one recently who identified as pagan or witch. I’m here to tell you, witch and pagan funerals are a real thing. We don’t have to be buried and commemorated by a Christian pastor or priest, if we don’t want to. And we don’t have to have a Christian burial either. If you want to know how to plan a pagan funeral and what to expect, we will detail it for you here including pagan death beliefs, traditions, pagan funeral songs and witch burial rites.

Pagan Death Customs

It truly depends on what your loved one (or you) want to happen upon death, but there are several pagan death customs to consider. Just as a baby is cleansed upon birth (via bathing or baptism, etc.), many pagans ask to be cleansed/bathed upon death. Why? Because death is another transition and just another part of the life/death/rebirth cycle. When you’re clean, you’re prepared to meet the afterlife fresh and anew! This isn’t necessarily a strictly pagan custom, but something that’s been done for thousands of years across cultures. In addition, here are some other pagan death customs to consider:

Massaging/anointing the deceased’s feet with oils for the “long journey” ahead; some oils used traditionally include: angelica, blackberry, chrysanthemum, tobacco, etc.

placing a circle of candles around the body and keeping watch until the funerary rites

call on the individual’s gods and/or ancestors to protect and guide them to the afterlife

a picture or statue of the individual’s gods/ancestors/guides can be placed with the deceased to ease in transition (for me, I’d ask for my statues/figures of Odin and Freya, specifically)

prayers should be said to aid the deceased in their travel to the afterlife

pipes and tobacco can be smoked near the deceased – the smoke wards off evil spirits

bouquets of hydrangeas around the deceased to ward off negativity and cleanse the air

burning frankincense and myrrh upon death

upon death, if at home, cover the mirrors and open a few windows to allow the deceased’s soul the ability to leave this earthly plane

stop the clock upon death

cover the body in white linen, white and black flowers

hold an Irish wake: click here to learn more

have dinner, feast, drink and celebrate their life (this was SO important back in the day, and actually aids in the soul’s transition to the afterlife. You’re not celebrating for yourself, you’re celebrating for the person who just died)

burying the pagan/witch in good walking shoes for the journey ahead (for the love of the gods don’t bury me in heels, people!)

Types of Pagan Burials and Cremations

Pagans and witches don’t have a single holy book that they use to guide their lives or their transitions like death. It all depends on what the individual pagan believes; however, many pagan and witch burials lean towards the eco-friendly. This means a natural burial: no concrete is poured into the ground, no man-made caskets, etc. There are natural cemeteries throughout the United States who accommodate eco-friendly witch burials. You can do a simple google search to locate one in your area.

Other Witch Burial Options

In addition to an eco-friendly witch burial, some pagans may choose to be cremated and then have their ashes spread somewhere in nature. While cremation is purportedly a “Christian” death custom, our ancient pagan ancestors from certain countries burned their dead. Unfortunately, burning a person on a pyre is illegal in most places and frowned upon these days, so the pyre is probably not an option where you live. Can you believe there is also a company who is composting human remains, as well? Do some google research if you’re curious. For me, being a witch who’s lived past lives during the Burning Times, please don’t burn me. But again, this is all up to you or your loved one.

Viking Funerals in Michigan

Some pagans and witches may wish to be cremated and ashes spread in a sacred natural place.

Ideas for a Pagan Funeral Service

The best place to have a pagan funeral service is where? In nature! If the person loved the ocean, hold the service at the beach. If the person loved the mountains, hold the service on a mountaintop. Recite passages from pagan poetry, mythology, prayers to gods, etc. There are some wonderful passages that would be appropriate for a pagan funeral in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, the Prose Edda, the Mabinogion, and the Carmina Gadelica, to name a few. Following the pagan funeral service, have a party to celebrate the person’s life together – eat, drink, and socialize. Our ancestors made funerals into parties! Read more pagan passages on death further down.

More Pagan Funeral Traditions:

To protect the deceased upon burial: drive/carry the casket around the cemetery 3 times in a sunwise direction

Bury the deceased with his or her amulets/talismans: magical jewelry like crystals or runes they wore during life or any other sacred tokens

During the funeral ceremony – ask psychopomps to guide the deceased to the afterlife. Psychopomps include: the deceasesd’s spirit guides, ancestors and gods, in addition – Osiris, Iris, dogs, horses, snakes, birds, Thoth, Hecate, Berchta and Freya (particularly for women and children), Madame Death, etc.

Garlands of flowers and resins can be made into necklaces to protect and bless the deceased’s loved ones – hang around their necks during the funeral rites

Flowers and food offerings should be left at the gravesite to aid the deceased in his/her journey to the afterlife

Witch and Pagan Funeral Officiants

Pagan Death Beliefs

So instead of the Christian version of talking about the deceased as if they’re going to Heaven, pagan death beliefs nearly always revolve around reincarnation and/or traveling to a place outside of this world. For some pagans and Wiccans, this other place that we go upon death is called Summerland. In Norse tradition, they may say they believe we go to Valhalla, Folkvangr, or Helheim upon death. For the Celtic tradition, the Celtic Otherworld, Faery Realm or Tir Na Nog. Etc. At the very least, mentioning that your pagan loved one believes we come from the earth and return to the earth is perfect. Read more about pagan death beliefs and the pagan afterlife here. In addition, share a few pagan passages or quotes on death and the afterlife:

Pagan Quotes on Death and The Afterlife

These are some of my favourite passages about death, reincarnation, etc. that I would love someone to share upon my burial. You can share some of these passages or quotes during the memorial or have the officiant add it to his/her speech:

“When I die, plant flowers over my grave, so when the seeds bloom, you can pick me and hold me once more.” ~ Anonymous

“I have been in many shapes: I have been in a narrow blade of a sword; I have been a drop in the air: I have been a shining star; I have been a word in a book; I have been an eagle; I have been on a boat on the sea; I have been a string on a harp; I have been enchanted for a year in the foam of water. There is nothing in which I have not been.” ~ Taliesin (Welsh Bard)

“Beauty before me, with it I wander. Beauty behind me, with it I wander. Beauty below me, with it I wander. Beauty above me, with it I wander.” ~ Navajo Night Chant

“Cattle die, Kinsmen die, All men are mortal. Words of praise, Will never perish Nor a noble name.” ~ Havamal

“After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” ~ Dumbledore, Harry Potter

“But know this: the ones that love us never truly leave us.” ~ Dumbledore, Harry Potter

Pagan Funeral Songs

There’s plenty of music (both pagan and modern) that would relate well and could be considered pagan funeral songs. Here are a few options:

Wardruna: Helvegen

Stevie Nicks: Landslide

Delta Rae: Dance in the Graveyards

Sarah McLachlan: Angel

Alison Kraus: I’ll Fly Away

Florence and the Machine: Never Let Me Go

The Band Perry: If I Die Young

Stevie Nicks: Crystal

Loreena McKennitt: The Dark Night of the Soul

Wardruna: Odal

Celtic Woman: Danny Boy

Florence and the Machine: Jenny Oldstones

Marianne Faithfull: Witches’ Song

Sarah Jarosz: Build Me Up From Bones

Julie Byrne: Sleepwalker

MILCK: Call of the Wild

Delta Rae: Morning Comes

Florence + The Machine: Sky Full of Song

Florence + The Machine: Grace

Florence + The Machine: St Jude

Enya: May It Be

Kalandra: Helvegen

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speak-easy-marketing-llc · 17 days ago

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Concrete surfaces are essential to the durability and aesthetics of any property. Whether it's a driveway, patio, or commercial walkway, these areas experience constant wear and tear from foot traffic, weather conditions, and spills. Over time, these surfaces can lose their luster, becoming grimy and dull. If you’re searching for a concrete cleaning company near me in Maryville, Tennessee, look no further than Story Concrete.

#concrete cleaning company near me

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selvie-blue · 2 years ago

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What Happened To Todd's Clothes - Part 4

Todd arches his eyebrow and looks to them. A small smile finds its way on his face as he extends his fingers and points it at Mr. Patricks and everyone else. “Okay,” Todd says, laughing partly because he's in disbelief and partly because his nerves are beginning to edge themselves further out of his skin. “Wha-what's going on, here?”

Mr. Patricks looks like he's about to say something but is stopped by Fred tapping his shoulder. “Sir.” He holds up his phone to the boss.

Mr. Patricks turns his head to the side. Todd has no idea what he's looking at. He still puts on a smile, but there's sheepishness to it. He's had this charity thing going on for a while, now. He can't let anything get in the way of keeping up its facade.

However, when he sees the sly smile begin to work its way through Mr. Patricks's face, part of his mind, a very small part buried in the far back, is questioning if it really is smart to continue here.

Mr. Patricks slides his eyes over to Todd as they covertly maneuver through the cover of a slow blink. “Actually Todd, we're going to need both of your shoes.”

Todd's head bounces back from the force of a guffaw that jumps out of his mouth. “Okay, seriously, what the fuck is going on here?”

Without breaking eye contact with Todd, Mr. Patricks takes Fred's phone that Fred is still holding up to him. Fred readily gives it up. When Mr. Patricks has it in hand, he looks down and says, “We're going to take a small little break here, folks. Let's hear a word from our sponsor.” He looks back up to Todd and hands Fred his phone back.

Todd is shaking his head. “Thisss… isn't funny.”

“You're right, Todd,” Mr. Patricks says, slowly walking up to him. “It's not funny. It's not funny that for two God-damned years, you have been throwing fake charities only to take the majority of the proceeds for yourself.”

Todd knowingly nods his head. “I knew it. You ratted me out, DIDN'T YOU!?” Todd yells at Fred while thrusting a finger in his direction.

Mr. Patricks shakes his head. This is followed by him saying, “He didn't have to, Todd. You see, it wasn't that difficult to put the pieces together. You're a sloppy boy, Todd. And not very bright in cleaning up after yourself. So, here's how this is going to work.”

Todd is wildly moving his head back and forth while saying, “No, I don't work for you anymore, Patricks. Fuck this company and fuck you, I'm out.” He turns around to storm off only to find a police officer standing in his way. As the officer is looking right at Todd, almost as if saying Try me, Mr. Patricks continues.

“You see, Todd, you lied to the public and falsified your intentions with the cover of a fake charity. That's illegal, my friend. So, Mr. Penter, here,” Mr. Patricks is extending his hand to the officer, clearly indicating he's referring to him, “And a few other of his friends are going to haul your ass off to jail.”

Todd widens his eyes and whips his head back around to face Mr. Patricks. A thousand and one scenarios play out in his mind. All ending with him dead or near dead while incarcerated. The images of iron bars and small quarters and the pungent stench of men being kept in close proximity and shivs and the loss of freedom are all slamming in his mind. He can practically feel his brain being compressed in the cracked concrete of a prison yard while a cold creature of fear and panic start to take up residence in his rapidly beating heart and fast breathing.

“Unless you cooperate.”

He looks off to the side.

“I've got connections, Todd. The kind that can get you out of this entire mess. But if you don't play nice, then that all goes away. You see, our charity is real. But the audience tonight, Todd, well, it's an audience with a certain… fetish.”

“Fetish?” Todd says, looking back at him.

“Yes,” Mr. Patricks says, still slowly walking up to him. “It really is all for a good cause and even the ones at home have good intentions. But they're getting a little something out of it, too. So, actually, maybe it's good if you don't fully cooperate. But as far as everyone watching is concerned, you're part of a whole scenario that we're acting out. They think this is all staged.”

“What's the scenario?”

“I think it's better,” Mr. Patricks says as he backs away from Todd and takes Fred's phone that he still has held up, “if you don't fully know. It'll make for a better performance.”

Mr. Paricks looks at the phone, again, and says, “Welcome back, everyone! Todd has graciously agreed to give us both his shoes and his socks.” He hands the phone back to Todd and while still looking at him, he calmly says, “isn't that nice of him.” He almost says it under his breath. Like he's taunting Todd.

Todd looks back to the officer still shooting daggers at him and looks around at the other officers. He sighs as he bends down and starts untying his shoes. While he's pulling on the laces, he can actually feel more people watching not just online, but around him. He slides both shoes and socks off.

“Thank you, Todd. You can hand them to Officer Penter.”

Todd doesn't break eye contact with his boss. He just hands them to the officer. As he does, he can see Walter's eyes expand in shock while looking at Fred's phone. This results in a chain reaction of Fred showing his phone to Mr. Patricks.

“Wow. That was fast,” Mr. Patricks says.

Todd forms a face of confusion while shaping his mouth into an “o”. He arches in his eyebrows. What are they looking at?

Mr. Patricks's eyes break away from the phone and looks right at Todd.

“Okay, Todd, let's have your pants.”

“WHAT!?” he exclaims and looks around him. Just as he suspected, people have gathered. Apparently, the word is out. “Fuck you, I'm not doin' that!”

Mr. Patricks arches an eyebrow and quickly walks up to Todd. Todd starts to back away. Mr. Patricks goes up to Todd's ear and whispers, “Now look, you got yourself into this. So, you've got two choices here, Todd.” He then laughs quietly while still whispering. “Actually…” he stops laughing as his voice coldly cuts back to a more serious tone. “You don't. Now take your fuckin' pants off.”

Todd backs away and looks at Mr. Patricks. Todd's eyes are now almost frozen in shifted landscapes of terror, embarrassment, and anger. “No,” Todd says.

“Well, we can do it for you.”

Todd shakes his head. “There's a lot of things you can legally do here, Mr. Patricks, but actually removing an article of clothing from me is not one of them.” Todd is gaining back some confidence in his voice. He's got this fucker now.

“Is that right?” Mr. Patricks says. “Well, legally we actually can. Remember those papers you signed?”

Todd's mouth expands open.

“In fact, not only can we do it,” Mr. Patricks backs away and looks up to the cop behind Todd. “Officer Penter? A little help?”

“WHAT!?” Todd exclaims.

Then, without warning, Mr. Patricks, Fred, Walter, and everyone else in the group rush up to Todd. They grab hold of his arms and whip him around. Todd can then feel more hands. Hands taking hold of his arms and legs and as they start propping him up, Todd yells, “HEY! HEY, LET ME GOOO!”

Todd quickly looks down as he sees the officer that got in his way earlier looking directly at the top of his pants. Focusing full attention on them as his hands are reaching up.

“Hey! Hey! Hey, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!!” he nearly screams, helpless to move while the officer lifts his shirt up and begins unbuttoning Todd's pants.

#todd's clothes #men embarrassed #men embarrassed in public #enm #enm story #losing clothes #men losing clothes

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chloeillustrates16 · 2 years ago

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Sing To Me (Rise Version)

(My personal head canon is that all the Leos love country music and will unironically blast it in the lair when their brothers are away).

(I wrote a 2k16 version of Leo).

Summary: Leo will die if his brothers find out he listens to country music. He's willing to keep it till the grave.

Warnings: Some swearing, Y/n uses she/her, personal head canons, fluff

To say it was embarrassing was an understatement; if Donnie found out that Leo like country music, he wouldn't hear the end of it. Yet, here he was, alone in the lair. Leo was still healing from the Kraang fight; having to take a lot of damage in the Prison Dimension. It took months for Leo to convince Raph that he was okay on his own.

Leo bounced his foot against the concrete as music flowed from his speakers. Leo hated cleaning, it was one of his least favorite activities, but he had nothing else to do. He needed to get his mind off of the memories that plagued his mind. So, music blasting in the background as his hands roamed around his room and put things into drawers.

---

You've been friends with the turtles for years. It wasn't long after April met them; being friends, April trusted you with the greatest secret known to man.

Your footsteps echoed off the sewer walls as you arrived in the lair; Raph called, saying that they left Leo alone and wanted you to keep him company. You immediately agreed to it; Leo was your friend; you'd do anything for him.

You approached the lair, shock running through your bones as you heard loud music originating from Leo's room. It wasn't the typical music he'd listen to either. Was this country?

You snuck your way near the door of the abandoned subway cart; you saw Leo moving around his room while singing. You lean against the entrance, smiling as Leo spun around his room. He stopped short; he saw your body in the corner of his eye.

His face felt like a million degrees as he turned to you, "Hey, what's up?" he asked, trying to be nonchalantly as possible.

"Since when do you listen to country music?"

"Uh...awhile," crashed to his knees. "Please, Y/n, don't tell Donnie, I hear the end of it!" he begged, "I'll do anything, anything!"

"How about a dance?" he paused,

"Huh?"

"Take it or leave it," he swallowed.

"Sure," you were only fucking with him. This is pay back for all the shit he's done to you, right?

Nervously, Leo wrapped his arm around your waist, the music changed, "Can you sing again? I really liked it."

"You liked my singing?"

"Uh-huh," okay. Now, he was definitely dreaming. Okay, this is okay, if it is a dream then why not, sure. Come on, Nardo, you're the Face-man! Do what you do best and sweep her off her feet.

"I'm booking myself a one-way flight; I gotta see the color in your eyes. Telling myself I'm going to alright, without you, Baby, is a waste of time. Yeah, our first date, Girl, the seasons change, it got washed away in the summer rain. You can't undo a fall like this, cause love don't know what distance is. Yeah, I know that's crazy." he chuckled, "But I don't want good, and I don't want good enough; I want, can't sleep, can't breathe, without your love!"

You stare into Leo's big obsidian eyes; you felt your heart race. "Front porch and one more kiss; it doesn't make sense to anybody else. Who cares if you're all I think about? I searched the world and I know now, it ain't right if you ain't lost your mind! Yeah, I don't want easy, I want crazy! Are you with my, Baby? Let's be crazy!" He laughs along with you, "Well, I don't wanna be scared; don't wanna know why. Wanna feel good, don't have to be right; the world makes all kinds of rules for love; I say you gotta let it do what it does! I don't want just another hug and a kiss good night!"

"Catchin' up calls and a date, sometimes I love that we're rebels, and we still believe; We're the kind of crazy people wish that they could be, and I know we're crazy, yeah! But I don't want good, and I don't want good enough; I want, can't sleep, can't breathe without your love! Front porch and one more kiss; it doesn't make sense to anybody else! Who cares if you're all I think about? I've searched the world and I know now, it ain't right if you ain't lost your mind; yeah, I don't want easy, I want crazy! Are you with me, Baby? Let's be crazy!"

Your bodies dances together, almost harmoniously. Your arms were tight around his neck as he spun you around his room, his hands tight on your hips.

"No, I don't want good, and I don't want good enough; I want, can't sleep, can't breathe without your love! Front porch and one more kiss; it doesn't make sense to anybody else! Who cares if you're all I think about? I've searched the world and I know now, it ain't right if you ain't lost your mind; yeah, I don't want easy, I want crazy; Yeah, look at us baby; tonight, the midnight rules are breaking. There's no such thing as wild enough, maybe we just think too much. Who needs to play it safe in love? Let's be crazy! Who cares if we're crazy? We gotta be crazy; I know that we're crazy, so let's be crazy, yeah!"

You covered your mouth as Leo felt like he was on cloud nine. He pulled you so close to his chest while dancing, he didn't realize how bold he was being. Leo swallowed thickly as he stared down at your lips, you stop laughing and look at him.

Both hearts racing in sync. Leo pulls you closer, his lips softly pressed against your own. It was unsure, you hum against his lips as you press forward. Leo smiled against the kiss before pulling away.

"I told you I could sweep you off your feet," he chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah; whatever you say," you whisper. Another song came on; he began singing again.

"Duffle bag, backseat; my dash, your feet. Those other side of the highway, headlights making you shine." You thought why not to join,

"My hand, your leg; playlist, playing; even though I haven't made it yet; I'd draggin it, droppin it, in my mind. You're a drive real slow; down no lane road; to a house on a hill where the wild things grow! You're a wake up in pajamas; not a trace of makeup on ya! You're a help fix her it; having breakfast with my mama; you're a take back home, home, home girl! Home, home, home girl; take back home, home, home girl; home, home, home girl!"

You started, "You're the kind I wanna take a ride with; sit by on a Friday night! In the stadium; lights side by side. All the lady's like, Yeah, she's doing just fine."

Your smile as Leo joined back in, "Everybody in the bleachers; they all gon' wanna meet ya from my teachers to my preacher! My little crowd pleaser; parading with you feeling homecoming cool, yeah! I wanna drive real slow, down a no name road; to a house on a hill, where the wild things grow! You're a wakeup in pajamas; not a trace of makeup on ya! You're a help her fix it; having breakfast with my mama! You're a take back home, home, home girl! Home, home, home girl; take back home, home, home girl; home, home, home girl!"

You gasp as Leo pressed you closer to his plastron, "You're a take back; You're a take back! You're a take back home; you're a take back home! You're a take back home girl. You got that down home homegrown, found on good ground soul; that down home homegrown, found on good ground soul. You're a drive real slow, down a no name road to a house on a hill, where the wild things grow! You're a wakeup in pajamas; no trace of makeup on ya. you're a help her fit it; breakfast with my mama! You're a take back home, home, home girl; home, home, home girl; take back home, home, home girl; home, home, home girl! You're a take back; you're a take back; you're a take back home; you're a take back home! you're a take back home; you're a take back home."

Chewing on your lips, Leo smiled, "Who knew you could sing?" You scoff,

"You're better."

"As much as I agree with you; you're not too bad yourself." You blush, as Leo pulled you over to the bed.

"Can I just lay on you?" he asked, you nod. His head pressed against your chest; you hum softly to him as you scratched his shell. It wasn't long before Leo fell asleep with you in his arms; unwilling to let go.

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

Songs used:

I Want Crazy (Encore)--Hunter Hayes

Take Back Home Girl--Chris Lane ft. Tori Kelly

#x reader #fanfic #reader insert #fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #rise of the tmnt #music fic #leonardo #rise leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles #head cannons

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alorsondanse42 · 1 month ago

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Reminds me of a short story I read during Covid by Alan Walsh:

>Kissing Booth

"Have you kissed him yet?" Georgie is machine-gun texting me every forty seconds since I joined the queue. He's rolled up in a duvet at home in front of an old Fellini movie, I’m marooned out here with twenty other desperate loners on the frozen tundra of a Tesco car park at three in the morning.

Scout’s honour he’ll whip me up an egg breakfast, though, right after the hooker stops crying. I guess he means in the movie. The boy never even went to Scouts.

My lips sting from acrid, machine coffee and my eyes blur, waiting on a text message telling me I’m next through the door.

It’s spring, the birds volley screeches between nests across the sky, none of us below as much as make eye contact, shambling around distractedly between the painted white lines, heads in our phones.

"Check his swab results before you go near him. Be sure it’s legit. We’ve dropped so much money on this, Julie."

It was nine thousand just to get in the queue. Too late to back out now. I clock back on at nine. Nothing confirmed yet, but rumour is they start swabbing people at work today. Only reason they’d do that is to let the Negatives go. It’s been on the cards for weeks. Places are only hiring Positives now. I’ve been out the last forty odd hours, trying to catch it.

Georgie just dragged himself home after two straight days thieving used cutlery off restaurant tables before the staff clean up. Licking, sucking on fork prongs in the alley outside, rifling through bins. I’ve been grotesquely intimate with door handles, smudged wine glasses in bars. I’ve haunted shopping aisles and swimming pools.

We’re still about eight months behind Spain, where they say it originated. Policía Nacional are already escorting Negatives from gated communities there. Political and Entertainment careers now live and die by the swab result. The news called it a 'viral neural empathiser’. VNE. The first patients in Madrid resurfaced from their twenty-hour comas with clear, unblemished skin.

Further testing showed rocketing cognitive function. Muscles firmed, old scars healed. Swiss doctors tracked IQs rising on a steady, unceasing line. Singapore Positives giddily snatched graceful fluency in any new language within the hour. It took a month for the blue chip companies to come aggressively headhunting the infected, now there’s an entirely separate LinkedIn for them. Schools already segregate students based on saliva swabs.

Georgie and I held each other and wept as yet another test blinked negative yesterday morning. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t grab something heavier than his old United tracksuit top. It’s Baltic out here. I draw a few sideways glances, stamping the concrete for a little warmth as the overhead light flickers on above the door and everyone’s face dives into phone-screen-whiteness looking to see if they get the next invite. I’m here almost two hours now, it bloody better be me. They dropped the Pos tag from Tinder this week, now they’ve all migrated to their own app. Paula and Tom tested positive on Monday and have already stopped answering our calls.

I dredged up this guy’s ad on the dark web. He said he was selling infections out the back of a supermarket after hours and I was one of the blessed few to answer before he deleted it twenty minutes later. Positives already jealously hoard infection within their circles, we’ve got like a week before these deals stop happening.

When the invite finally bubbles up on my screen I almost want to be sick, stumbling into an awkward canter through the pack before someone else grabs my spot. My fingers tremble enough it’s a challenge taking the door handle and I step through to a practically unlit corridor where two guys in plaid shirts and designer trainers hunch under a neon light. Uniform white teeth, tans blanched livid by the bulb. Lean, firm, tidy. Positives.

A wordless flick of the fingers instructing me to hand over my phone. VNE, lest we forget, doesn’t enhance your manners. They comb the details on my screen, matching them against their data. "You only paid entry. We’ll take the infection fee now." It’s a further twelve grand. I swallow hard, drag in an icy breath and swipe my finger across the screen to complete payment. I’m almost distracted by a loud, tinny rumbling from somewhere close. "You get your phone back after. He’s through the canteen, in the back office to the left. You’ll hear the TV once you get to the coat rack, just follow the sound."

"What’s that rattling, you don’t hear it?" They blank my question long enough I just slink away in the direction of the rack, light fading with each step. I never imagined they’d take my phone. I wanted to stay in contact with Georgie. It’s mainly his money, he’s that saving type. I only had three hundred and sixty to add to the pool, so I’m nervy about just paying out like that, but there aren’t any second chances here. He’d definitely have done the same.

My nausea spikes reaching the coat stand and I first catch the low murmur of white noise just a few metres away. Am I even sure these guys are Positives? Anyone could place an ad like that. He claimed he was infected eight weeks and was doing this to collect enough for a second boat. His photo looked like one of those models they scare up from agencies for reality shows.

VNE transmits via bodily fluid. A long, wet kiss, with tongue, will almost certainly get me there. That’s what he’s selling. Then I go home, take care of Georgie.

I take the direction of a wall blotted flickering blue and the white noise is already loud enough to hurt. They’re trialling broadcasts at frequencies only Positives can watch, which I find kind of scary. I’m stalking through the aisles of an unlit staff canteen, polished surfaces reflecting my expression. I need to pull it together, I can’t walk in looking this unravelled. I ditch the United top on a chair and straighten my t-shirt. My hair is hopelessly matted with dew and the cuffs of my jeans spot with damp from the grass outside.

I find the door ajar to the back office and the TV flicks abruptly from the white noise to a channel where Ross is insisting to Rachel they were on a break. The chair in front of me spins and a young man of Euclidean beauty, ensconced in an impossibly soft looking white hoodie rises up out of it with a warm grin and outstretched hand.

"Hi there. I’m Oscar," he says, through a smile that could sell me any product ever devised by a human, "lovely to meet you." I bumble through a double take.

"It’s Julie. I’m sorry, for some stupid reason I expected someone older." His grin shifts up a gear, dropping onto the sofa and he gestures for me to join him. "Sorry about all this cloak and dagger stuff, but a friend warned me this will be illegal by Saturday." It bothers me to hear things like that. "Also, I suppose it’s like a kind of prostitution really. Selling kisses out the back of a car park."

"I mean kissing booths always had that vague feeling."

I can’t believe this. He’s not some superior jerk in an Italian suit. He’s joking, pouring me a Coke, holding eye contact. "Not to sound weird, but it’s good to finally meet someone nice in here. It’s been a conveyor belt of weirdos so far. Types of people I truly never imagined I’d kiss." He sighs, and goes to continue but my surging adrenaline is already puking up questions like a schoolchild.

"What is it like?" That smile again.

"VNE? So, it’s another world. You’re a kid again. Energy, curiosity. No hangovers is just massive too."

I’m giggling like an idiot, I can’t help it.

"Really, though, it’s all the side stuff you never expected. Animals suddenly love you. I mean every animal is your bestie now. Here are my two dogs. But here are the cats, the hedgehogs, badgers that come to my garden, just to hang." He’s showing me his phone, swiping photos of birds alighting right in his palm, dolphins bobbing to meet his fingertips.

"Is that your place? It’s gorgeous."

"It’s my coast place. Cliff view. I’m all about sailing so I’m there like all summer. When I have kids I’ll get them out on the water from day one. You got any kids?"

"No. I mean, Georgie’s not really ready."

"Oh, Georgie’s the boyfriend?"

Crap, should I have mentioned him? I’m buying a kiss. Play it safe.

"Kinda, but nothing serious." Five years, mortgage arrears on a balcony flat and a Fiat Punto.

"Well, you’re lucky you have someone. Downside to being positive, such a tiny pool. And it’s not getting any bigger. I haven’t had a date in months. Everyone’s snapped up. Everyone nice anyway." He looks like he means it.

"What will you do once you catch it?"

I hadn’t prepped for small talk like this. I should’ve chanced a drink.

"I guess, begin my life. Settle down, marriage. Start a family. The usual." I can’t help grinning. It’s really happening. Things I’ve scarcely even said out loud till now finally seem real. Seem usual.

"Old Georgie popped the question yet?"

"He’s been waiting, I think, for something like this. He wants to travel first. See things, you know."

"He waiting outside now?"

"He’s at home," but before he gets the wrong idea, "he’s doing me eggs for breakfast."

"Nice. How do you like your eggs?" Fertilised! I muffle my sister resurrecting that particular joke every visit.

"Overdone, dry as the Gobi. Mountain of pepper. He takes his wet, we use separate pans." Then, to unblock the sudden quiet, "Is it true your taste in food changes?"

"Your taste in everything changes."

"Books?"

"Films. Music. People." Why in hell am I blushing? Stop it, Julie.

"And what stays the same?"

"You mightn’t like that answer." Hairs levitate along my nape.

"Nothing." He leans in, saying it. His fingertips tingle the edge of my chin with a shocking intimacy, touching his lips on mine. I can tell we’ve started for real because my heart and lungs are for some reason searing themselves out of my chest. I’d dreaded the mechanical damp of a stranger’s mouth. By the time he starts kissing I can’t even breathe. I’m a beat behind reciprocating, but race to catch up. It doesn’t need to last anything like this long, but I fight to stop it ending. I’m smiling so much it stings and when at last I open my eyes he’s right up close, all I can see.

"What is it like? You’ll see what I see very soon, Julie. I’m not just looking at you now. I can see you as a grandmother and a little girl. I hear your pulse, your tendons, the words you said to your mum when she was alive. I see the box you hid of her letters. Your old home and your gran as a girl in Rosslare. I can even see our boys on the boat."

"Our boys?" He grins.

"I’m already there too, waiting. You’re on your way, you’ll see it all. It’s so much more than we told you." His fingers caress my hand and we leave via the side door. And all the way back down the hall where the guys in the plaid shirts used to crouch, my phone screen is bubbling messages, lighting up the inside of the bin. Rattling the metal sides, just like all of the others. The rumble echoes down the corridor. Nobody ever comes back for the phones.<

Soulmates as a horror concept.

You WILL love this person. It doesn't matter who you loved before; any feelings you had, any promises you made, they will become inconsequential as soon as you lock eyes with the stranger Fate has picked for you.

There's no way to stop it.

There's no way to say "no."

You will meet someone and with a single glance, both of you will become someone new, someone who's now bound to this stranger whether you like it or not, want it or not.

Trapped in a dance together until the day you die.

#Alan Walsh #short story #long post #text post #long but worth the read #the link contains an audio recording of it too

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daivdrogan445 · 4 days ago

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Expert Tips for Getting the Most Out of Concrete Mixer Hire Near Me

When embarking on a construction project, the choice of equipment can significantly influence both the efficiency and outcome of the work. One essential piece of equipment that plays a critical role in many projects is the concrete mixer. For those searching for "concrete mixer hire near me," understanding the nuances of hiring and operating a concrete mixer can make a substantial difference in project success. This article offers expert tips to ensure that the process is seamless and effective.

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#concrete mixer hire near me #concrete pump hire near me #concrete pumpers near me #ready mix cement wolverhampton

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slowlyscentedobservation · 6 days ago

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“Finding Reliable 'Driveway Paving Near Me': Tips for Homeowners”

When it comes to declaring your home, driveway paving is occasionally left out. Yet, a smartly-paved driveway no longer in simple terms enhances the aesthetic charm of your property but additionally will increase its worth. As house owners are seeking trustworthy expertise, the quest for reputable “driveway paving near me” will become paramount. In this newsletter, we’ll delve into every part you want to realize approximately finding reliable driveway paving contractors and the several sides interested in asphalt paving.

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Asphalt is one of the crucial so much preferred resources used for driveways caused by its rate-effectiveness and simplicity

#Youtube

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psychicllamamagazine · 11 days ago

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Why Construction Sites in Orlando Need Reliable Dumpster Rentals

Introduction

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Environmental Responsibility

Orlando is known for its commitment to environmental sustainability. Reliable dumpster rentals enable construction companies to fulfill their environmental responsibilities by promoting proper waste management practices. These rentals often include recycling options, allowing construction sites to divert recyclable materials from landfills and contribute to a greener future.

Cost-Effective Option

Opting for reliable dumpster rentals can be a cost-effective choice for construction companies. By renting dumpsters, they avoid the need to invest in expensive waste disposal equipment and vehicles. Additionally, the rental company handles the logistics of waste removal, saving construction companies time and money.

FAQs about Reliable Dumpster Rentals for Construction Sites in Orlando 1. How can I find a reliable dumpster rental near me in Orlando?

To find a reliable dumpster rental near you in Orlando, you can start by conducting an online search using keywords such as dumpster rental orlando "dumpster rental near me Orlando." This will provide you with a list of local rental companies that offer dumpster services. Be sure to read reviews and compare prices to ensure you choose a reputable and affordable optio

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