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keferon · 1 month ago

Note

Ahhhhhhhhh! The TF mecha Deadlock and human Ratchet drawing! I just saw it before sending this. His squishy! But yeeee! Continuing from the last one I wrote. Just pulled ideas from other posts you and others have done in this TF mecha universe. This is fun! :P

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Ratchet's living quarters is much like the hanger where his lab is. An open area with some dividers up to make separate rooms. Scaffolding and catwalks line the wall and stairs are at each corner of the hanger. The interior is smaller when compared to the lab but the ceiling is much taller, allowing Deadlock the ability to sit up right comfortably. It looks like a little maze to Deadlock who can look down from above. Out of the five rooms in this hanger turned living quarters, Deadlock can't see into three of them. Ratchet's berthroom, the kitchen, and washrack all have ceilings to them. Ratchet's office is connected to the sitting area. Being the largest area in the hanger Deadlock has taken over the sitting area to recharge and heal in. Being the Chief Engineer no one has questioned Ratchet for having Deadlock in his hanger because Ratchet always takes work home with him. Also don't question Ratchet.

A click from the main entrance door has Deadlock stir from his recharge. Old instincts and habits have made him a light recharger. He opens one optic, a red glow fills the room. Blinding bright and staticky at first but dims and clears as his visual boots up. He see Ratchet opening the tiny entryway to slip out. He rumbles knowing it is way to early for Ratchet to head back to his lab. Ratchet had maybe, at most, gotten two hours of recharge. Deadlock gives a rumble/grunt again, this time it sounds more like a wheeze as he starts to shift to grab his little squishy who has already opened the door and stepped half way out. He is using the door to make himself unsnatchable not without breaking the thin metal.

Number one rule while in Ratchet's domain: Don't break Ratchet's things, he NEEDS them. The objects Ratchet chuck do not/can not hurt him. The disappointment and tired frustration however does hit something deep in his war worn spark. "Power back down kid. Just leaving for an emergency meeting. When I get back I'll check your intakes and engine. It's rattling and straining hard again." Ratchet says in a deep rougher voice used only when he wakes from recharge. The door click behind the human not giving him time to reply in his drowsy state. He rubs his fresh welded wounds and with a unhappy grunt curls loosely back around what Ratchet calls a lazy-e-boy chair and entertainment center.

ALL DAY! All day Ratchet has been gone. Deadlock should be use to Ratchet's long work days. But Ratchet didn't fuel before he left, he hasn't recharged in a long while. Two hours is not a recharge. Not for him, not for Ratchet. He is worried, it oozes out and around him from his EM Field like a shadowy murky cloak. His audial fins are pinned down and back as far as they can go. Ratchet looks so worn down. Overworked and shoulders heavy with responsibly the Cybertonian knows the bioengineer should not have to bare. The tv is on to use as a distraction but it no more then background noise as his proccesor runs through scenarios of what could be keeping Ratchet this time.

The door lock clicks and Deadlock instantly perks up. His EM Field fizzles away from gloomy to a more warm and bright mood. "Ratch-" He stops immediately when Ratchet comes through the door. Deadlock rakes his claws into the concrete floor and his field starts boiling with the energon in his lines. Ratchet is bruised and bleeding. The humans forehelm and knuckes are covered with fresh and dried blood. His glare intensifies as Ratchet closes the door and slumps against it with a grumble. Ratchet grunts as he takes off his shoes and dirty jacket. Deadlock's helm is filled with static and his spark heavy and spinning way to fast. He can taste energon on his glossa thanks to his fangs. Rage is not what is taking over his sensors and proccesor. Something more like a deeply rooted need, something instinctually feral burns hot in his frame. "WHO'D DARE-" Ratchet holds up a hand and makes a hushing noise, Deadlock snarls engine rattling harder to keep up with his burst of energy and restrained energon lust. His limbs shaking with just as much restraint. The only thing keeping him from ripping the hanger down is Ratchet's hunched form at the entry way. When Ratchet looks up at Deadlock his jaw snaps shut, denta slamming hard against each other with a harsh clank. The fragger looks amused! Tired, frustrated, and hurting but Deadlock knows that look. Those lips are ever so slightly turned up into an amused smirk, "R a t c h e t." Deadlock hisses out passed his denta audial fins pinned back.

"Relax, before you blow a fuse. You should see the other guy. These are just scratches Drift." The fragger chuckles wiping some blood from his lip with his thumb. That does something to Deadlock that he will not acknowledge right now. His spark flutters and pulses harder, EM Field a confusing mix of emotions that Ratchet can't feel, "I had a disagreement with some of the others in command while another sister base visited. I am fine. Been in more then one scrapping in my time." Ratchet hums as he limps into his office, Deadlock claws at the floor again. "I did not party and study my whole younger life away just to get my PhD in biomedical engineering and be told how to do my job. I may have got a tad heated." He chuckles again at Deadlocks snort/huff.

Deadlock relaxes slightly as Ratchet pulls out a medical kit. His systems are running hot and HUB flashing warnings at him do as Ratchet suggested. He relaxes slightly and presses his servo against his helm. "Frag doc starting fights for a disagreement?" He rasps out watching Ratchet closely while he steadies his intakes. The human carefully works on cleaning the blood stained knuckles, Deadlock takes some pleaser in knowing all that blood is not just Ratchet's. "You're just as much of a hot menace as me."

"For you." Ratchet mumbles as he gently rubs ointment on the cuts. "They wanted me to turn you over to the field officer. Told them that you are still a work in progress that needs more time. That you came to my lab mmm.." Ratchet realizes it's the next day, a whole day wasted arguing in a concert room with metal chairs. With stuck up, pathetic excesses for- "Two days ago now.. said I activated some guardian protocal that day by accident which what brought you looking for me. They think you are imprinted on me. Something like that." Ratchet winces as he wraps his most bruised and swollen hand. A whine leaves Deadlock's stuttering engine, the tip of his pointer digit's claw has been hovers over Ratchet's helm as the doc talked, "What is it Drift?" Ratchet pauses from reaching for the alcohol soaked cotten ball. He looking up into overly bright, almost white with worry optics. Ratchet's optics dart around looking over Deadlock's form and healing welds.

Deadlock wants to huff, to roll his optics at the bioengineer's worry for him. But he can't stop his spark and fuel tanks from turning while he watches the red liquid drip down Ratchet's forehelm and optic ridge. "I... can't help you. You are hurt.. cause of me... and I can only watch you patch yourself up." He admits dimming his optics and looking down. All of this because he got impatient and hunted down his squishy to get him to recharge for once.

Ratchet's optics soften slightly. He shuts the kit with a sharp snap and huffs as he straightens from being hunched over. "Hand down please." Deadlock's audial fins perk up at the request. He carefully and gently, as gently as he can, places two digits into the office room. He lifts Ratchet up slowly once the small being had found a good spot to sit on his servo. He doesn't want to risk even the slightest breeze to brush against the bruised and cut flesh. He makes certain his servo is locked so it doesn't twitch on them. "This is high enough. Stay still." Deadlock is about to scold him when he thinks Ratchet is going to check the welds on his chassis. Instead Ratchet pops the kit back open and works on himself. Deadlock's vocal box clicks a few times as he tries to comprehend what his squishy is doing. His spark flutters with his EM Field when he realizes Ratchet is using his metal plating like a mirror. Ratchet dabs the cotton ball on the cut above his left optic ridge. "Didn't feel like going all the way to the bathroom. So thanks kid."

Deadlock purrs and almost melts from the thanks. Yes he will happily be a mirror. "Clever thing to do doc. Have those idiots thinking I am loyal and protective to only you will mean I can follow you around more. I am content being imprinted on you. Just tell them you can't undo it doc and if they touch you ever again I will pluck their little tiny servos off and feed it to them." He rumbles in a flat tone towards the end. He rolls his optics at the small ping from Ratchet flicking his chassis, "You may start a fight doc but know I will finish it."

"Didn't really start it either kid." Ratchet sighs looking at his reflection with a solemn expression before going back to dabbing the cotten ball harder against the cut, "Wasn't just about you Drift. They wanted.... they want..." Deadlock wants to curl around Ratchet the tone he is using now sounds like defeat, that's not his Ratchet. Deadlock lifts his free servo and retracts a claw so he can rub Ratchet's back as best he can to comfort him. "I can't." Ratchet rasps placing his forehelm against Deadlock chassis. Deadlock's engine settles to a purr Cybertonians use to sooth each other. It seems to work. Ratchet's shoulders relax and he seems to be getting his thoughts together. Deadlock stays silent and even if he doesn't need to keeps his EM Field in check. He only giving off support, warmth and calm, "It's inhumane, evil... Tourture... It would break down to much of the muscles and cells of the body. The hippocampus, the cerebral cortex, and the frontal lobe... that much damage to the brain would... I can't do what they want me to. Not to anyone Drift. Not what they ask. I can't. To adults, to teenagers, To Children. Young kids not knowing what they have signed up for. Never told. No choice. No way in hell could I ever-"

The strain and deep pain in Ratchet's voice is killing Deadlock. Deadlock can feel the trembling coming from Ratchet as the human catches his breath. He keeps a steady presser against Ratchet's back for support as he moves him up. He ignores the small gasp from Ratchet when he presses Ratchet to his cheek gently. Warm smooth metal touched warm soft skin, "Never. Never will you do what anyone demands of you. They can not make you harm anyone. You have never done anything you didn't want to and you won't start now. You are to much for them to try to control. My little squishy scraplet. I will kill them if they try. You have my glyphic, honor, and spark on this." Deadlock pulls back feeling something wet on his faceplate. Before Deadlock can get a good look at Ratchet's face, the bioengineer is shakily wiping his optics in a rushed motion aggravating the wound on his forehelm making it bead up with fresh blood, "Woah easy doc!" Ratchet bats his digit away when he tries to stop him.

"Stupidly cocky little shit! Lets get you feeling better before you try taking on a whole mecha filled base for me!" Ratchet laughs and smacks the digit still pressed against his back. That laugh does something to Deadlock's systems and spark, "We'll need to discuss a plan. I don't ever do anything half ass. I will not go into anything blind. But you are right, this is not the place for me to be anymore. Sad really. I was doing a lot of good here, made things safer for our pilots. Slowly sure but less were dying... so horridly all the time." Ratchet mumbles the last bit under his breath before shaking his helm. Deadlock likes the smirk that comes back to Ratchet's lips, "Now lay down so I can check that engine. You are starting to sound like a shitty abandoned junker car. Think you knock something out of place."

Deadlock matches Ratchet's smirk with a slag eating grin as he lifts the human a tad higher to press his forehelm against Ratchet's. He feels Ratchet pulls back after a moment, a stuttering raspy purr rumbles pleasantly through him when Ratchet places his servo against his forehelm and rubs. Yeah he does sound like slag and his HUB is flashing warnings, "What ever you say Doc. I am your guardian knight after all. You just tell me when to start swinging." He hums as he shifts to lay down.

Y O U. YOU JUST WROTE THIS ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE OF A FIC??? AND I DONT EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME?? WHOEVER YOU ARE, ANON, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH NGKGKFGBFHGH YOUR WRITING DOES THINGS TO MY BRAI N

Also. Al s o. I just realized. Oh my god.

We have two Cybertronians on Earth at the moment right. Prowl and Deadlock. But Prowl is very much restricted in his actions because he has strong moral codex and also he's not a very good fighter (at least on his own).

But then we also have Deadlock. And the only thing keeping Deadlock in check is. Ratchet.

Like. Oh fuck just imagine. He isn't restricted by any moral implications except Ratchets opinion. He doesn't really give a fuck about other organic life or laws of Earth or anything. He is also a really fucking good fighter. He doesn't commit murder because that would disappoint Ratchet, but if. IF. Something happens to Ratchet?

THE HELL he would unleash would be visible from outer space.

Him being so sweet and caring and protective over Ratchet doesn't mean he behaves like this with everyone. Him being protective over Ratchet means that if anything takes Ratchet from him, he'll drown himself in blood. He'll burn, claw, gnaw, punch and tear his way back to his human.

All so he can be nice and sweet and caring again right afterward:)

#tf mecha universe #ratchlock #ratchet #deadlock #omg can you imagine #Prowl waking up in Ratchets garage (after he was saved from mecha program) and the first thing he sees is the fuckin Decepticon high comman #Idk I just think it's so funny #like you know when you visit someone's house for the first time and find out they have a giant guard dog that looks like satan himself?#and the person you visiting is like. Don't worry I promise he's a good boy and doesn't bite #but then you look at the dog #and it's clearly trying to choose which one of your internals to make external first #yeah .#same vibe haha

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tinydefector · 9 months ago

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I would love to request some possessive Prowl x gn!reader <3. Just pretty much anything, I love your writing!!!

Klik Away

Prowl x Human reader

Prowl masterlist

(Chapter2) (chapter 3)

(Chapter 4)

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing, forced proximity

Request and ask open, read pinned post

_________________

The sound of running echoes through the storage house. Prowl halted his advancement with an irritated vent, doorwings fluttering in agitation. His investigation had led him here but now he was in a chase.

Instead, a tiny fleshling's escape had disrupted everything. Watching it flee in panic, he briefly considered the merits of giving chase versus simply calling for backup. But allowing an organic to get themself killed wasn't something he wished to write out reports over.

With a muttered Cybertronian curse, Prowl continues giving chase. lights flickering to illuminate the warehouse's shadowy depths. His scanners locate the human's heat signature as they continue running and throwing things behind them to try and stall him.

The human takes off under more shelving, taking an opportunity to throw a paint can in Prowl's direction, he swiftly raises an arm to block the flying projectile with an irritated hiss. When they try to scale the scaffolding, his strides lengthen enough to gently yet firmly enclose grasping fingers around their torso before more perilous stunts could be pulled.

"Desist this behaviour at once," he droned, holding the squirming human away from his body protectively but firmly. His doorwings twitched in irritation.

"I said I would not harm you. Now explain or I shall be forced to manually sedate you." His tone remained dispassionate though patience waned. He needed to know where the other traffickers were, if there were others.

Cooled air blew from his vents as piercing optics assessed the organic, ever analytic processor weighing their next move.

Panicked breathes come from them as they squirm, "let me go!, let me go!" They shriek. Prowl suppressed another irritated groan at the tiny organic's persistent shrieks and useless struggles against his secure yet harmless grip.

With another exasperated vent, "Cease this immediately. Panic will not aid your predicament. Now answer: how did you come to be here?"

"I don't know! You fucking kidnapped me!" They shout. Prowl cycled his vents with long-suffering patience, doorwings fluttering with barely-contained irritation. These organic creatures proved taxing.

"I can assure you with 100% certainty that I did not 'fucking' kidnap you," he replied dryly. "Were that the case, would I now be wasting valuable processor power tolerating these hysterics instead of my intended operation?"

Optics remained focused on them, Patience thinning, "I require information." His biolights flashed exasperatedly. "Now stop flaying. I intercepted your traffickers' signal and followed it to this warehouse,Tell me of your captors - numbers, appearance, probable location. I will terminate their operation, then see you to safety and medical care." Slowly he brought the creature closer, servos cupping protectively, Prowl raised an orbital ridge, vocals polished with aloof confidence.

"I don't know asshat!I don't know, they kept me locked in a box, I could only hear them or see them when they brought me food" they whimper. while trying to hit his servo with their hand, wanting him to let go. Prowl cycled another steadying ventilation, recognizing the human was spent more than expected after the distressing ordeal.

His doorwings tilted slightly lower in a posed effort to seem less intimidating. "Very well." He resigned himself to improvising. "You require medical care and safety until you can be relocated. You will come with me back to the station."

His call brought over an enforcement cruiser, he filled them in on the situation. After he's done he transforms Depositing the human inside not so gently as he takes off, Prowl coordinated his team via comms to wrap up operations.The drive proceeded in uncomfortable silence.

Prowl's doorwings flickered tautly as he faced off against a surprisingly immovable Optimus Prime, it was rather strange seeing him back in the force.

"With all due respect, Prime, you cannot expect me or any other officer to alter standard duties caring for an unruly petro-rabbit," he retorted coolly. "It creates disruption and liability. The logical solution remains finding accommodations better suited among its own kind."

Optimus' field pulsed mild reproof. "Prowl, the human has no such option, until a ship can be organised for safe transport, No one has come forward for guardianship, and due to the circumstances I doubt anyone will. It now falls to you." His tone allowed no argument.

Prowl suppressed a disgruntled noise. "While protecting all sentient life aligns with your doctrine, I have covered several orns of duties already and can not be diverted to care for this...squishy."

“Prowl this is not up for debate” Optimus states, it makes Prowl want to snarl back at him but he holds back storming out of the office, picking up the human as he goes.

Despite Prowl's protest the human ends up in his guardianship, and he is forced to take them back to his apartment. The drive is rather uneventful; both of them are quite not wishing to speak to the other. And he's not happy about the situation.

Prowl set them down none-too-gently upon a seating unit in his private hab, before whirling to pace agitatedly across polished flooring. His doorwings flared in sharp, irritated angles. “Ow what the fuck asshole!” Thye shout while rubbing their sore joints.

"This situation has become utterly untenable," he spat without glancing at the organic, servos gesticulating crisply to emphasise each word. "I am a law enforcer and tactician, not a crèche worker to cater to some fleshy creature disrupting my operations”

He jabbed an emphatic digit toward the human. "You will remain here, while I am absent. Do not wander or touch anything. Refuel only at designated intervals so as not to inconvenience me further."

Prowl knew he should modulate for the soft sensory packages organics possessed. But rationality abandoned him in the face of such unprecedented upheaval to his routine.

"Once communications are restored, the earliest ship will relocate you back to your kind. Until then..." He cycled a furious ventilation. "Do not compromise my operations or wander further than your unwanted presence already has." His frustrated field pulsed like an agitated bear, before he spun on a heelstrut moving to his table to overlook datapads and check how things had been progressing. He begins taking comm calls as he types away.

They flip him off, turning their back to him, their eyes linger on the soft cloth Prowl had laying on the table. They look back at him, eyes linger for a moment watching him argue over comms with others but at that moment they didn't care, they were sore, tired and just wanted to sleep. His engine revved with barely-contained outrage. How dare that little organic upset his living space so profoundly

Prowl paced in his office, doors twitching erratically as comm traffic flooded with commentary on his new "ward." Finally he slammed a fist on the console, engines snarling. "The first transport capable will deliver it back through the spacebridge."

He jabbed frustratedly at a datapad, recalibrating schedules disrupted by this nonsense. Unwelcome surprise flashed across his HUD."first ship available, you are gone. Until then, do not tax what remains of my patience." His words were scorching weapons aimed to inflict.

They ignore him moving towards the cloth, curling themself into it and making a makeshift bed and blanket. Shivers rack their body over how cold the apartment is but they aren't willing to say anything instead turning away from Prowl and hunkering down into the cloth.

Green makes her presence known with noises, the flyt taking to Prowl's shoulders, chirping at her owner as she snuggles against prowl. Prowl vented hot air through clenched dental plates,

His plating clamped tighter as Green chirps around his helm in useless attempts to soothe. With a swat, he sent the pet flying off in a frustrated burst of motion. Even his flyt pet proved irritating at that moment!

They let out a choked up gasp as Prowl picks them up, wrapped in the cloth, "where are you taking me!" They shout. Prowl rumbled with barely-restrained ire as he carried the bundled human toward his personal berth. "Silence," he snapped when it squealed. "I require recharge and will not suffer your disruptions further." Cycling another vent, as stomped toward his hab suite. A brief check of climate controls explained the shivering organic - it was no wonder, given the mech ran hotter.

With a few taps, the thermostat warmed to a more suitable temperature. He moves towards the berth dumping them onto the hard surface, Prowl loomed over the human once more, entire frame radiating impatience.

His plating clamped taut as he deposited it onto the berth beside himself, looming over the tiny squishy form. "You will remain here undisturbing while I power down," he hissed, Biolights flashing irritably.

Green tries to investigate what had taken her spot on the berth only for Prowl to knock her away, when the flyer pestered, Prowl scooped up the human bundle none-too-gently. "Cause me any disruption and you will face consequences fully." With that less-than-comforting threat, Prowl grumbled low in his chassis and shuttered his optics, forcing stiff joints and wire-frazzled processors to unwind through firm self-discipline.

They squirm lightly trying to get comfortable, they eventually find themself pressed against Prowl's chassis, it's warm and the sound from it eventually lures them to sleep, cloth wrapped around their body. Their eyes shut, out of exhaustion as they cuddle against the mech.

Prowl peepers down beside him, entire frame tensing at the unwelcome sensation. He glanced down to find the human entangled against his chassis plates, curled almost...comfortably? beneath the outer edges of his field.

Green buzzed overhead, clearly agitated at losing her favoured recharge spot. Prowl shot the flyt a warning look, bidding her silence. His processor whirled, examining how to extricate from this undignified scenario without disturbing the human.

His field registered its small organic frame finally relaxing in restful recharge, tiny vents puffing soft exhalations against his plating. Prowl cycled a quiet ventilation, surprised by the peculiar gentleness such a fragile life exuded up close.

It unnerved him. As did the grudging tenderness prompting him to simply remain, allowing recharge to continue undisturbed. Prowl glared at nothing, discomfited.

The human meant nothing - a temporary obligation soon rectified. Yet...he did not move to dislodge them either, His engine rumbled ever-so-softly, His field pulsed disturbance even as recharge didn't come to him, systems fighting the illogic of sharing space with such a fragile life form. But it would have to do until he could be rid of the organic contaminating his dwelling at last. Pit takes the inconvenience...

Just a klik. Then order would resume, they would be gone soon enough.

#transformers #transformers x human #transformers idw #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #transformers prowl #prowl #prowl x reader #prowl x human #tf prowl #prowl idw #idw prowl #prowl mtmte #mtmte #mtmte transformers

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beaningeneraldenial · 2 years ago

Text

First Contact is between Scar and Clown (HoTgUy and Jester)

AKA Scar makes an enemy on day 1

The hermits, upon entering the rift, are spit out in different parts of the city and left to fend for themselves.

Scar finds himself in the most peculiar of spots because of course he does. He ends up in an abandoned construction site, hanging off of an iron pole or the edge of the scaffolding (he can't tell from this position under the thing) and goodness did he not plan this far ahead.

Granted, none of them had planned ahead because there isn't anything to plan when you have no idea where you're headed. But this is just unnecessary.

He manages to get down at some point (it's difficult without his mechanical wings. At least he has his bow on him still– it's his whole brand!) and he stumbles around the site a bit bruised.

And then he stumbles upon a meeting of two people. There is an avian and a person wearing this weird, silly hat with horns and a mask he can only see the side of.

"Oh, people! Hello!", he exclaims, not hiding his excitement at the prospect of civilization.

The two strangers look him up and down, scrutinizingly. He notes that the avian's pair of wings are blue, yellow and another colour but it's a bit too dark to make it out. The one with the silly hat is taller than the other and Scar thinks they might be of the same height. The click of heels against the concrete floor clue him in on the fact that the "silly hat" guy is wearing heeled boots that add to his height quite a bit.

"Who are you?", the avian asks but Scar ignores him, instead locking on the other guy's outfit. It's jester-like and puffy with a corset but the mask is quite scary (with the toothy ear-to-ear and cross-slit eyes and all).

Scar, ever so oblivious to what "two shady guys conversing in an equally shady location" trope ends up in, decides that now is a good time to poke fun for conversation purposes.

"Oh! Are you a clown? Your outfit is very stylish! Could you tell a joke?", he says so fast that the two people in front of him are... confused, to say the least.

The clown is the first to snap out of their shared stupor.

"You're about to find out" he says in a low voice that would spook a normal person, pulling a serrated knife out of a hidden pocket of his outfit.

Scar, however, isn't a normal person. Barely any hermit could be considered normal, actually. The moment he sees danger, some inner instinct of his recognizes it (because if it were up to his consciousness, he'd be toast by now) and muscle memory pulls his HoTgUy bow from his back.

He doesn't need to aim because his body does it for him. Knock, pull, release.

His arrow finds the clown's skull and his body is pinned with surreal force on the wall behind him, right next to the avian.

They both stare as the body begins to dissipate in smoke and dust.

"OH NO, I KILLED A MAN", comes Scar's delayed reaction, followed by a very terrified screech of the avian.

"HOLY SHIT", the avian shouts in horror, wings flared and feathers ruffled. "Oh my God, I'm out!"

He leaves before Scar can apologize for the psychological trauma he just subjected an unsuspecting bystander (pffft).

Eh. He can make it up to them if he comes across them again.

Right now, he just needs to find Grian and Xisuma.

(He doesn't notice the added heart on his health bar, like he doesn't notice most things. Like the eyes that were peering at him from the dark corner over there)

#hermitcraft #mcyt #fanfic #clownpierce #goodtimeswithscar #lifestealAU #lifesteal peeps are villains #lifesteal smp #hotguy #scar just killed a man

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indyflanery · 2 years ago

Text

MUSE AESTHETICS: SLEEPING AT LAST — ATLAS

bold what always applies to your muse. italicize what applies to your muse conditionally. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG

DARKNESS. the mind was made to illuminate the heart. / we carve our names on the surface of history. / all our strength came out of the woodwork. / we only know this light as darkness crashes against it. / it’s a cruel trick how we find ourselves when we lose everything else. / our mistakes they were bound to be made. / the smell of the falling and burning leaves. / the bitterness of winter. / the sweetness of spring. / there was bad blood in us. / the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. / firewood burning bright in the dead of winter. / were we broken right from the start? / forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn. / just live what little life your broken heart can. / just live what little life your mended heart can. / darkness exists to make life truly count.

SPACE ONE. space and time takes violent things, angry things, and makes them kind. / we are infinite as the universe we hold inside. / we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes. / i am desperate, if nothing else. / no one can unring this bell, unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new. / i am dissonance waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune. / somehow i’ve fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul. / all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life. / the night sky once ruled my imagination. / let my change of heart occur. / fault lines tremble underneath my glass house. / there was an avalanche of change. / we laid our names to rest along the dotted line. / we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. / another lie from the front lines. / our backs against the wall, we’re surrounded and afraid. / though time is ruthless, it showed us kindness in the end. / a second chance to make amends. / losing track of what we’re fighting for.

SPACE TWO. a secret under lock and key. / while collecting the stars, i connected the dots. / i don’t know who i am, but now i know who i’m not. / make my messes matter, make this chaos count. / you taught me the courage of stars before you left. / how rare and beautiful it is to even exist. / a stained glass variation of the truth. / stitch by stitch i tore apart. / if brokenness is a form of art i must be a poster child prodigy. / an open book with a torn out page. / a model citizen of doubt. / i’m pinned under the weight of what i believed would keep me safe. / show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins. / the heaviness that i hold in my heart is crushing me.

LAND. a little broken, a little new. / the impact and the glue. / some truths are sharper than knives. / truth’s got its sight set on you. / if truth is north, then i am true south. / i set out to rule the world with only a paper shield and a wooden sword. / i bear little resemblance to the king i once was. / i bear little resemblance to the king i could become. / half your heart has yet to come home.

LIFE. all we held dear was on the line. / my heart reconciled all the darkness and light inside my chest. / i saw the future unfold in silver and gold. / you are grace, you are light. / i can’t keep my head from spinning out of control. / is this what being vulnerable feels like? / i’m only steady on my knees. / i’ll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness. / a thousand fingerprints on the surface of who i am. / let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up. / i was given a gift of hope. /

SENSE. fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much. / all i want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed. / pain is a well-intentioned weatherman. / god, i want to feel again. / i am aware of what light tastes like. / like fists unravelling, like glass unshattering. / i’m well aware of the shadows within my heart. / i want to be astonished. / nothing less than a work in progress. / sacred text on post it notes. / the light goes out, my heart goes still.

EMOTIONS. the calm water in the middle of an anxious sea. / the starting line of an adventure. / the faint outline of the divine. / losing my balance again and again. / each brave step forward, i take three steps behind. / its mind over matter. / a single lose thread and it all comes undone. / in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means. / with a broken heart, transformation begins. / i feel the pressure building until i can’t breathe. / reckless but honest words leave my mouth. / it’s fight or flight. / a last minute man of faith. / kerosene on a flame of doubt. / it’s too late for holy water now.

#aesthetic image

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publicabsent · 6 months ago

Text

MUSE AESTHETICS : SLEEPING AT LAST — ATLAS.

bold what always applies to your muse. italicize what applies to your muse conditionally.

DARKNESS. the mind was made to illuminate the heart. / we carve our names on the surface of history. / all our strength came out of the woodwork. / we only know this light as darkness crashes against it. / it’s a cruel trick how we find ourselves when we lose everything else. / our mistakes, they were bound to be made. / the smell of the falling & burning leaves. / the bitterness of winter. / the sweetness of spring. / there was bad blood in us. / the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. / firewood burning bright in the dead of winter. / were we broken right from the start? / forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn. / just live what little life your broken heart can. / just live what little life your mended heart can. / darkness exists to make life truly count.

SPACE ONE. space & time takes violent things, angry things, & makes them kind. / we are infinite as the universe we hold inside. / we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes. / i am desperate, if nothing else. / no one can unring this bell, unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new. / i am dissonance waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune. / somehow i’ve fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul. / all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life. / the night sky once ruled my imagination. / let my change of heart occur. / fault lines tremble underneath my glass house. / there was an avalanche of change. / we laid our names to rest along the dotted line. / we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. / another lie from the front lines. / our backs against the wall, we’re surrounded & afraid. / though time is ruthless, it showed us kindness in the end. / a second chance to make amends. / losing track of what we’re fighting for.

SPACE TWO. a secret under lock & key. / while collecting the stars, i connected the dots. / i don’t know who i am, but now i know who i’m not. / make my messes matter, make this chaos count. / you taught me the courage of stars before you left. / how rare & beautiful it is to even exist. / a stained glass variation of the truth. / stitch by stitch i tore apart. / if brokenness is a form of art i must be a poster child prodigy. / an open book with a torn out page. / a model citizen of doubt. / i’m pinned under the weight of what i believed would keep me safe. / show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins. / the heaviness that i hold in my heart is crushing me.

LAND. a little broken, a little new. / the impact & the glue. / some truths are sharper than knives. / truth’s got its sight set on you. / if truth is north, then i am true south. / i set out to rule the world with only a paper shield & a wooden sword. / i bear little resemblance to the king i once was. / i bear little resemblance to the king i could become. / half your heart has yet to come home.

LIFE. all we held dear was on the line. / my heart reconciled all the darkness & light inside my chest. / i saw the future unfold in silver & gold. / you are grace, you are light. / i can’t keep my head from spinning out of control. / is this what being vulnerable feels like? / i’m only steady on my knees. / i’ll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness. / a thousand fingerprints on the surface of who i am. / let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up. / i was given a gift of hope.

SENSES. fall in love in a single touch, & fall apart when it hurts too much. / all i want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed. / pain is a well-intentioned weatherman. / god, i want to feel again. / i am aware of what light tastes like. / like fists unraveling, like glass unshattering. / i’m well aware of the shadows within my heart. / i want to be astonished. / nothing less than a work in progress. / sacred text on post it notes. / the light goes out, my heart goes still.

EMOTIONS. the calm water in the middle of an anxious sea. / the starting line of an adventure. / the faint outline of the divine. / losing my balance again & again. / each brave step forward, i take three steps behind. / its mind over matter. / a single lose thread & it all comes undone. / in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means. / with a broken heart, transformation begins. / i feel the pressure building until i can’t breathe. / reckless but honest words leave my mouth. / it’s fight or flight. / a last minute man of faith. / kerosene on a flame of doubt. / it’s too late for holy water now.

#✽ ➝ visuals. ❜

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hairstyleforteen · 8 months ago

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Best Root Pump For Fine Hair-Top 3 Products

Amazing hair is thick and volumized. When your hair is looking its best, it will increase your confidence and charisma. If your hair is not naturally thick, have no worries because there are tons of hair care products on the market that harnesses the latest biotechnology and ingredients from mother nature. Look for the hair care products that match your hair and guarantees amazing results. Get only the best root pump for fine hair for luxurious volume and thickness that you can be proud of.

10 Ways to volume up your hair-- best root pump for fine hair

Changing your part When you change your hair part, it will create more volume at the top of your head Chances are you have a part and a favorite place to part with your hair. The part is where your hair likes to fall in a natural way. However, the problem is your hair is most likely to fall flat in that direction, and you are training your hair to be that way. If you flip your hair to the opposite side, your hair's crown will get instant volume. Do this procedure while your hair is still wet to keep it from looking lopsided. To achieve the most height, try a deep side part on the opposite section when your hair is dry, spritzing some hairspray on to it to keep the hold. The result is a model like look that revives the 80s look. It's a very sexy look. Back brushing To create soft volume back brush the under layers of your hair up to the roots. Teasing the hair has had a bad reputation. This process doesn't necessarily mean aggressively back brushing your hair with a fine-tooth comb, resulting in tons of tangles. You can actually achieve soft volume in your hair by back brushing the roots using a soft paddle brush. A good technique is to pin up the hair's upper layers while the rest is back brushed. Work on your hair layer by layer. Hold each layer away from the head tautly and brush it in a downward motion up to the roots in three consecutive strokes. To make the volume last for the long term, spray each area with some hair spray. Once you have done brushing and applied hairspray in sections, let the rest of the hair to fall down and leave it smooth. Blow-dry while your hair is flipped over If you haven't perfected your blow-drying method, have no worries because the best shortcut to obtaining volume in hair is simply flipping your head in an upside-down manner. This may sound effortless, but many hairstylists do this method to achieve the ideal look. They flip the hair over after the hair has been dried after a haircut. This method works because when your hair is upside down your roots are effectively lifting off your scalp, which is an ideal way for them to dry. When you want your hair to be at least a hundred percent dry, use this method and follow it with a final smoothening using a round brush. However, it should be noted that if you have bangs, you should always dry your hair right side up. Boosting your hair roots You can use a hair product specifically for root boosting on damp hair right before you undergo a blow dryer. Root boosting hair products are hair-loving friends. They function as scaffolding to your hair. Root boosters give structure and support for the lift you need so you can manipulate and create near the roots helping you achieve and lock down your style all day long. Look for a specially designed product for fine hair so it won't look or feel weighed down. Apply the product throughout your hair up to your scalp. Make sure that you use the hair care product on damp hair. When hair is dry, the root boosters typically don't work. After applying the root booster, don't be afraid to layer on some volumizing products. Add some mousse and hair spray and subject your hair to blow-drying all through the lengths. Use a volumizing shampoo Volumizing shampoos won't weigh your hair down. A volumizing shampoo can do tons of good to your hair styling goals. If you're looking for the best product for your hair, a rule to follow should be to look for clear or translucent products. These products are least likely to contain heavy ingredients that cause buildup. White and creamy consistency and appearance should be avoided. It is highly possible to get the best root pump for fine hair that is volume building and won't hurt your hair. It is also crucial to be moderate with conditioner. Apply it only on the bottom half of your hair and make sure to rinse it thoroughly. Crimp the roots of your hair To make your roots stand out from the scalp, crimp the roots at the under layers. Crimped hair was a big sensation back in the eighties, and now it is coming back for a resurgence but in a more subdued way. Achieve this trendy look by crimping at the roots at the under layers of your locks. This is a great way to turn up the texture of your hair and make it stand out. In the end, you will get a soft volume that is natural-looking. A big plus of this style is that it only takes several minutes and requires zero to little expertise. The top layer of the hair also completely hides the fact that the hair has been crimped. Tie your hair up in a bun when sleeping If you sleep with damp hair and your hair is tied up in a bun overnight, be prepared to wake up with amazing volumes and waves. Don't ditch your scrunchie. This piece of hair tool is useful when you want to cheat and give loads a volume to your hair without applying heat. After you shower at night, put your hair into a high and loosely tied bun while it is still damp. Thereafter secure it with a scrunchie or soft elastic. As your hair dries, it will be lifted off the skull so when you wake up and release your hair, you will be greeted with loads of volume and soft waves. Another way to gain volume effortlessly as you sleep is to use a stretchy headband made of fabric. Wear it across your forehead in sections of your damp hair until the hair is completely wrapped up. Secure your hair with pins as needed. Release your hair the following morning, and you will have a glamorous Hollywood level look. Dry shampoo your hair Put on dry shampoo on your hair immediately to prevent oils from killing off your volume. Are you waiting for time to pass before putting on some dry shampoo? You may want to reconsider this decision. If you feel that your hair is feeling dirty, your oils may already be killing off your volume. The oils will travel down the hair shaft, weighing down your tresses. Go for a preventive approach by coating your scalp with a dry shampoo layer as soon as you are finished blowing it. When you do this, there is already an oil barrier that will stop the oil in its tracks and help your volumized hair stay and last longer. As a bonus, dry shampoo also gives instant volume to hair. Spray dry shampoo on to your hair throughout the lengths to create texture as well. Adding color to your hair

Coloring treatments can roughen up hair cuticles giving you more body and bounce. If you do not undergo coloring treatment a little secret from those who do color their hair know that coloring treatments also provide texture. Bleaching the hair adds body since it roughens up the hair cuticles and prevents it from being too slippery. This can be an advantage for someone whose hair is always flat and difficult to volumize. However, you don't have to get an entirely new color for your hair to get the volumizing effect of a color change. If you get a few highlights in your hair's sub-layers and tone it, you can get just enough boost in your hair cuticle without having to worry about reverting to the normal color of your hair when it regrows.

Top 3 best root pump for fine hair

OUR TOP PICK! John Frieda Volume Lift Root Booster Blow Dry Lotion This best root pump for fine hair is not only a root boosting hair product but also give a lift up to your roots. It adds volume from top to bottom. The secret formula to this best root pump for fine hair is the air silk technology that gives this hair product a lightweight texture that is silky and makes you feel like you have nothing on your hair. This best root pump for fine hair is lightweight enough to smoothen your crown up to its tips. Even though this hair care product is created as a blow-drying lotion, you can put it on and allow your hair to air dry as well and get the same blowout effects. Just smoothen a little bit of this best root pump for fine hair and let your hair dry. Watch as your hair rises literally. A lot of reviewers have praised this best root pump for fine hair. Many have used it for a decade on thin hair. They use it this way: Spray hair when wet and do not blow-dry. Liftoff the roots with your fingers while your hair is still wet. The results of this best root pump for fine hair are strands that feel nice and separated and don't stick together. This product gives ultra-lightweight results. There is no perceptible stickiness, coating, or powder felt. Check Price on Amazon! Runners Up BOLDIFY Hair Thickening Spray This best root pump for fine hair is a little on the higher end price spectrum. However, this best root pump for fine hair has the added plus of featuring a super lightweight formula that doubles as a texturizer for hair that is thin and straight. To use this best root pump for fine hair, just spritz it directly onto your damp roots and air-dry hair or blow dry it. The result of this best root pump for fine hair is a feeling of softness and flexibility without the brittleness that is common in other products. It is also good to know that the formulation of this best root pump for fine hair is paraben-free, so you should have no worries putting it on your hair. A lot of reviewers love this best root pump for fine hair. Some users have had hair loss and thin strands. When they use this best root pump for fine hair, instant volume was added to their hair without it being sticky or weighing the hair down. Surprisingly, the volume lasts all through the day. It provides a root lift, which makes the styling experience all the more enjoyable. Check Price on Amazon! Garnier Fructis Root Amp Root Lifting Spray Mousse This best root pump for fine hair creates miracles for all types of hair. To use this best root pump for fine hair, just place a small dime-sized amount on to wet hair and massage directly up to your roots. After applying this best root pump for fine hair blow-dry your hair and create tons of added volume in a short time. Unlike other hair care products out there, this best root pump for fine hair won’t create build up so your locks will be left soft and fresh all through the day. This best root pump for fine hair is affordable and will only cost you $4. This popular product is a total steal. Many reviewers love this best root pump for fine hair, especially those with thin and limp hair. After towel drying their hair, they spray the products on to the hair up to the roots. They enthuse that this best root pump for fine hair doesn’t leave their hair feeling greasy even if they spend days without washing. They claim that the product gives their thin hair much-needed volume and lift. Check Price on Amazon!

Final Thoughts

You don't have to be a victim of dull, thin, and dry hair. The best root pump for fine hair can give you instant luxurious volume for an unforgettable crowning glory. Liberate yourself and style your hair any way you want and know that the best root pump for fine hair is backed by the latest technology and the best ingredients mother nature offers. Read the full article

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minghs · 1 year ago

Text

MUSE AESTHETICS : SLEEPING AT LAST — ATLAS

bold what always applies to your muse. italicize what applies to your muse conditionally.

DARKNESS

the mind was made to illuminate the heart. / we carve our names on the surface of history. / all our strength came out of the woodwork. / we only know this light as darkness crashes against it. / it’s a cruel trick how we find ourselves when we lose everything else. / our mistakes they were bound to be made. / the smell of the falling and burning leaves. / the bitterness of winter. / the sweetness of spring. / there was bad blood in us. / the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. / firewood burning bright in the dead of winter. / were we broken right from the start? / forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn. / just live what little life your broken heart can. / just live what little life your mended heart can. / darkness exists to make life truly count.

SPACE ONE

space and time takes violent things, angry things, and makes them kind. / we are infinite as the universe we hold inside. / we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes. / i am desperate, if nothing else. / no one can unring this bell, unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new. / i am dissonance waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune. / somehow i’ve fallen in love with this middle ground at the cost of my soul. / all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life. / the night sky once ruled my imagination. / let my change of heart occur. / fault lines tremble underneath my glass house. / there was an avalanche of change. / we laid our names to rest along the dotted line. / we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. / another lie from the front lines. / our backs against the wall, we’re surrounded and afraid. / though time is ruthless, it showed us kindness in the end. / a second chance to make amends. / losing track of what we’re fighting for.

SPACE TWO

a secret under lock and key. / while collecting the stars, i connected the dots. / i don’t know who i am, but now i know who i’m not. / make my messes matter, make this chaos count. / you taught me the courage of stars before you left. / how rare and beautiful it is to even exist. / a stained glass variation of the truth. / stitch by stitch i tore apart. / if brokenness is a form of art i muse be a poster child prodigy. / an open book with a torn out page. / a model citizen of doubt. / i’m pinned under the weight of what i believed would keep me safe. / show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins. / the heaviness that i hold in my heart is crushing me.

LAND

a little broken, a little new. / the impact and the glue. / some truths are sharper than knives. / truth’s got its sight set on you. / if truth is north, then i am true south. / i set out to rule the world with only a paper shield and a wooden sword. / i bear little resemblance to the king i once was. / i bear little resemblance to the king i could become. / half your heart has yet to come home.

LIFE

all we held dear was on the line. / my heart reconciled all the darkness and light inside my chest. / i saw the future unfold in silver and gold. / you are grace, you are light. / i can’t keep my head from spinning out of control. / is this what being vulnerable feels like? / i’m only steady on my knees. / i’ll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness. / a thousand fingerprints on the surface of who i am. / let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up. / i was given a gift of hope. /

SENSES

fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much. / all i want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed. / pain is a well-intentioned weatherman. / god, i want to feel again. / i am aware of what light tastes like. / like fists unravelling, like glass unshattering. / i’m well aware of the shadows within my heart. / i want to be astonished. / nothing less than a work in progress. / sacred text on post it notes. / the light goes out, my heart goes still.

EMOTIONS

the calm water in the middle of an anxious sea. / the starting line of an adventure. / the faint outline of the divine. / losing my balance again and again. / each brave step forward, i take three steps behind. / its mind over matter. / a single lose thread and it all comes undone. / in our great sorrow, we learn what joy means. / with a broken heart, transformation begins. / i feel the pressure building until i can’t breathe. / reckless but honest words leave my mouth. / it’s fight or flight. / a last minute man of faith. / kerosene on a flame of doubt. / it’s too late for holy water now.

#( 8 ) : introsp.#( gonna do a few of these in the meantime dont mind me

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novaformworks9 · 1 year ago

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Best Scaffolding Shuttering Provider

For outstanding quality and dependability, choose Nova Form Works, your go-to supplier for scaffolding shuttering provider. Because our cutting-edge scaffolding shuttering systems are expertly constructed to meet the strictest industry requirements, they will boost your building projects. Nova Form Works guarantees the accuracy and durability of every building, so you may design with assurance. For towering scaffolding shuttering that creates the foundation for successful construction, choose Nova Form Works.

#scaffolding #plastic shuttering panels

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tianjinwellmadescaffold · 2 months ago

Video

youtube

Ladder Frame with Snap On Lock Pins - American Standard Scaffold Materia...

#youtube #scaffolding #scaffold #frame scaffolding #scaffolding frame #frame system #wellmade scaffold #snap on scaffolding #snap on frame scaffold #building scaffolding #construction scaffolding #construction #building

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bianca-alexander88 · 1 year ago

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Last night, I had a dream I was at a moderately sized house party full of close friends and welcome strangers, something like a casual holiday party in someone’s home. The house changes many times throughout the dream. In the beginning, myself and the other party guests are getting ready to head home as it is late — about 4:00am. The house becomes my current home on Edderton Avenue and we are all looking out the front windows when we see a large white van speed down Rockman (which runs perpendicular to our street) for about the length of a city block, only to make a sudden, sharp, 90 degree turn left straight into the side of the shabby white house on the corner. The van is totalled on impact and, instantly, three psycho murderous clowns leap forth from the flames; the clowns stand approximately nine feet tall, are lanky but wide and have six inch jagged teeth protruding from their sinister grins.

As they begin racing towards our house, we collectively sense that the clowns are coming to kill us all. Everyone scrambles to find a place to hide within the house — there is no way to get out of the house, it is like a sealed vault of doom. People hide everywhere: under the bed, the pantry, inside the walls, but some are just too slow and, as I turn to see the clowns burst through the front door, they throw an ice pike, striking a brunette girl directly in the forehead and pinning her against the wall, gushing blood and dying instantly. I scramble for the safe, but decide that since there is no way out the safe either - it may as well be it’s own coffin. Then I find a panic room, and turn to close the door behind me, only to be confronted by a sinister clown. He points a gun at my forehead to shoot me, but is unexpectedly shot in the head from behind by another clown, who then proceeds to shoot himself in the head — utter chaos, no reason, only death. I alone am safe, surrounded by the carnage that are the massacred bodies of all the other guests.

Suddenly, I am driving with Maxine, Hely and Brian Curry in my high school Festiva, a tiny white “clown car,” towards my Nan’s house which is located in a lower middle class suburb of types. As we drive down the backlane, I am relying the wild story of my clown dream to my friends…. and Brian, who chimes in that, of course I wouldn’t have gotten into the safe, it may as well have been it’s own coffin, restating my own thoughts in my previous dream verbatim. I have de ja vu in my dream. As we approach my Nan’s house, I notice it backs onto a fenced in dog park through which a large St Bernard dog leaps and bounds, playing fetch. I smile. We walk into my Nan’s house, a side by side, and up the stairs, I hug her and tell her about the dream.

Suddenly, I am in the dark ceiling of a busy establishment. I know I need to follow the wobbly scaffolding I am on towards an attic folding style ladder to get down. I crawl on my hands and knees through thick dust and debris to reach the ladder. I lower myself down face forward, only to see Hely’s surprised smile at the bottom. We are in Sushi Ya on Corydon, and I have come out of the ceiling right to the front door. Sushi Ya is packed; patrons create a steady buzz of conversation, busy staff run about in a panic and the sushi chef glares at me. I walk out with Hely and her boyfriend out onto Corydon and we begin to walk down towards our old place on McMillan. I begin relying the story of my overlapped dreams, much to Hely’s dismay as she is sensitive to horror stories (particularly the dream within a dream narrative). As we walk, we pass by a variety of ethnic food stores and are badgered by pushy sales people, eager to sell us goods.

I continue on with the story and as we walk, somehow we find ourselves in the University of Winnipeg’s gym locker room. Hely’s boyfriend is now gone, she and I find ourselves locked in this seemingly inescapable never ending change rooms. As we push through the exit door, it takes us right back through the entrance door. We gasp for breath, running for what seems like forever, until we hear a menacing laugh — the clowns emerge from around the corner, and we are trapped — doom is eminent. I wake.

(November 3, 2014)

#dreaming #dreams #nightmare #horror story #dream meanings

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the-storytellers-seer · 2 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday...Actually on Wednesday!

So, after screwing around with SEVERAL other drafts of chapter one, I went back to my FIRST attempt and found that I didn't hate it. I think I'm going to keep it! So now to the editing, where I will anxiously attempt to find all my errors, think I have it done, post the chapter, re-read, realize I missed ALL THE THINGS, and spend the next week compulsively editing it on AO3.

Have a blurb!

“Good evening, Master Mage, my name is—” Sarea began with a wide—although slightly tremulous—smile on her lips.

“You have a great deal or nerve showing your face here, boy.” The wizard interrupted Sarea’s greeting, ignoring her entirely.

Beside her, she felt Teldryn tense. “We’re here to find out what’s going on at Raven Rock.”

“And you believed I know or even care?” the wizard countered with a snort.

Teldryn shrugged. “I told her that you might be powerful enough to have some idea. But if the spell is too powerful…” he let his voice trail off.

“Bold of you to insult me in my home. Although, you always had more brawn than brains. Made you an easy pawn for them.” The wizard’s obviously cruel words were spoken in a casual manner, but Sarea felt Teldryn’s muscles tense under her hand.

“I’m not anyone’s pawn.” Teldryn growled.

“No, you’re worse.” The wizard climbed down his scaffolding and strode over to them.

“If you don’t want to help us, then we’ll go.” Sarea interrupted, tugging lightly on Teldryn’s arm.

The man beside her remained as unmovable as a statue.

“Do you not ever feel remorse, boy?” the wizard pressed. “Do you ever wish to reverse Fyr’s cure? I could help with that.” The old wizard’s lips drew up in a mockery of a smile.

Teldryn didn’t respond, but Sarea felt a tremor go through him. She squeezed his arm to try to pull his attention away, but he ignored her.

“Let the corpus eat you alive while buried in the mass grave of the people you betrayed.” Neloth continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, but losing none of its venom.

Under her hand, she felt his muscles jump, but Teldryn remained still and silent. His face a hollow, unreadable mask.

“We didn’t come here for this.” Sarea stepped in front of Teldryn, blocking him from Neloth’s cruel gaze. “Do you know anything about the compulsion spell and Miraak? If not, you’re worthless to us and we’ll leave.”

Neloth’s sharp ruby eyes finally locked onto Sarea, and it took all her effort to not shrink back. “And what do you expect to do with the information, girl?”

“I’m going to put a stop to the spell.” She said simply.

The ancient wizard laughed in her face. “You? Girl, whoever is casting that spell is leagues more powerful than you. Go home to your empire.”

“I’m a Nord.” She protested. “And I’m not going home. I’m here to speak to Miraak and I won’t leave until I’ve done so!”

Sarea mentally congratulated herself keeping the tremor out of her voice. She was aware that compared to the knowledge and power the man in front of her possessed, she was barely more than dirt. But she was tired of the way he was treating her mercenary and amazing tower or not, she was ready to leave and camp in the ashes before she stayed a minute longer than she had to.

Neloth’s sardonic gaze pinned her in place for several long minutes before he finally said, “Speak and be done with it.”

#ao3 fanfic #teldryn sero #heirsoftheprophecy #tes v skyrim #fanfic writer #tesblr #wip wednesday

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laputian · 2 years ago

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MUSE AESTHETICS : SLEEPING AT LAST — ATLAS

bold what always applies to your muse. italicize what applies to your muse conditionally.

DARKNESS

SPACE ONE

SPACE TWO

LAND

LIFE

SENSES

EMOTIONS

TAGGING : steal this tag me

#𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨! —— * the ichor laced corpse of eternity

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scaffoldingtoday · 2 years ago

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Smart Scaffold Safety Tips

If you're looking to rent Houston Scaffolding, you probably have a building or construction job that calls for one. During a construction project, scaffolding is used to provide safe access to all regions of a building for construction personnel. Scaffolding, however, is only secure when utilised correctly. Continue reading for some shrewd scaffold safety advice you may apply to your upcoming building project.

Make Daily Inspections For Scaffold Safety a Priority

Before using your scaffolding rental, be sure nothing has been changed overnight by giving it a thorough inspection each day. Additionally, routine inspections will notify you of any damaged sections that require repair. Make sure that the scaffolding is not used until any faults discovered during your inspection have been fixed.

To Erect A Scaffold Safely and Properly, Follow The Instructions

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mega-ringsandthings-world · 1 year ago

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SORRY!!! IT GETS BETTER. Just not...right now. The haki slips under the radar until the escape, and small mercies that it does, because if it had become known Shanks probably would have been just killed outright, despite the blow it would have given the PR situation. So if Mihawk seems to fall strangely ill/go weak during the times when Shanks in in heavy distress, well, everyone knows he has convoluted attachment to the kid, he's just having hysterics on his behalf or something. Ah, about that. It's going to be particularly stringent punishment in this case, since they specifically told him to keep Shanks quiet .Here's another part from that scene that touches up on that,

"Mihawk."

Mihawk nearly startles at the sound of his name; coming delineated and crisp from Sakazuki's mouth, it's in such stark contrast with Shank's cries that for a moment he's not sure it belongs to him.

Shanks throws himself forward again at that moment, and distracted, Mihawk pitches forward with him, losing his grip on him before managing to latch his hands to the boy's' waist at the last moment.

Stop, he thinks as he feels the specter of Sakazuki's form lengthen, begin to approach. Stop. Red, stop.

But he does not stop. Can't stop anymore than Mihawk can let him go.

The prisoner's guards are clustered at the base of the scaffold now, Mihawk sees in flashes as they begin to lead the prisoner around it towards the deadly lift at its back. No, they are not leading him, not anymore. The prisoner is being all but dragged now, and he's looking back through the guards as he does, his body twisting to do so.

He's looking at Shanks.

Mihawk feels the shudder that runs through Shanks' thin frame when he locks eyes with the man across the square, and the low, wordless exclamation that drops from his mouth then is worse than any of his previous screams.

It's quiet enough that Mihawk is sure only he heard it, but the guards seem to move in response to it, hustling their prisoner away even faster, making him stumble.

Shanks' hands are free now, he throws them outwards. "Tarō, Tarō! Wait, don't! Wait, WAIT! Stop it, STOP, STOP, LET HIM GO-"

"-Mihawk!" That's Mihawk's name rising above the screams again, and the displeasure it's spoken with this time hits Mihawk like a physical blow. Sakazuki looms at his back, five or so feet from them. Ahead of them, the guards ar shoving the prisoner-

"Tarō! WAIT, WAIT!" - Tarō into the lift.

Shanks' body contorts, body flailing while his arms remain outstretched, and one foot rises and kicks back as he tries for some leverage, the heel of his shoe catching solidly against Mihawk's leg, just below the knee. The sudden burst of pain overwhelms Mihawks' still-weak knee, and there's nothing he can do in time to stop his crash to his knees, or to stop Shanks from being dragged down with him.

Even now half-pinned under him, Shanks doesn't stop his struggling. But now, Mihawk has more leverage. He presses Shanks to him tightly, caging him in with his body, ignoring the pitiful sound his arms force from the boy - the way his cries break for a moment.

A moment Sakzuki seizes.

"Shut him up." Sakazuki says. He doesn't step closer. But he doesn't have to. Mihawk feels his intent like a dark void at his back, the promise of a pitch-back alleyway or long-abandoned passage.

Cradled against him, Shanks is oblivious, his mind across the square with prisoner, unaware of the betrayal Mihawk is about to commit. Must commit.

"Mihawk," Sakazuki says a third time, and Mihawk doesn't wait a moment longer. He crosses as much of one arm as he can over Shanks' body, slips his other arm up, and presses his trembling hand over Shanks' mouth.

pre-execution drama in the loguetown au, could make for a bit of PR mess; The cry to cut comes through the sound of several rifles cocking, Mihawk barely hears either through the ringing in his ears. But he feels the rifles raise in their blocky arcs, and he's already pulling Shanks back before they come to bear. No, Mihawk yanks Shanks back with almost every ounce of strength his has in his body, and barely arrests the boy's desperate charge forward. He hooks his fingers into Shanks' collar, desperate himself to keep hold of him, but Shanks rips himself free and runs forward. "Tarō!" he shrieks, so shrill that even steps away from him Mihawk winces. "Tarō!" From behind the row of gun muzzles pointed at them, movement comes from within the ring of guards around the prisoner, Mihawk feels the shock that sweeps outward at Shanks' cry like a like a gust of wind. But he has no attention to spare for what that means; one of the Marines steps out of formation to block Shanks' path, his rifle swinging free as he seizes Shanks around his upper left arm and bodily throws him in the opposite direction, Mihawk's direction. Shanks crashes against him and they both stumble backwards for a few feet before Mihawk locks his legs, one hand fisted tight in Shanks' white jacket, his arm yoked across the boy's shoulders. "No!" Shanks cries, but it's with a dazed quality that makes his voice less earsplitting than moments ago. He's disoriented but thrashes weakly, Mihawk puts everything he has into maintaining his hold on him. "Let go!" Mihawk does not let go. His breastbone aches where Shanks' head slammed into it, and under the pain his heart is beating a rapid tempo. The ringing in his ears has not cleared, and he's suddenly aware of an accompanying pressure on the base of his skull. It bears down on his shoulders and seems to envelop his body with every passing second, until his knees wobble, filled from nowhere with a bone-deep ache. For a single moment he wants nothing more than to drop to his knees to relieve it. What is- What is happening- Mihawk's body jerks forward and the pressure recedes, morphing into a burn in both arms, Shanks has recovered enough to begin to struggle in earnest, straining forward and threatening to break from Mihawk's grasp again. From later on in the same scene;

It's in pure desperation that he fights Mihawk's hands now, and as he fights, he screams. Mihawk has never heard Shanks make those sounds before, but he has heard them all the same.

An ewe lamb had gotten stuck in a briar patch once, and had torn itself half to shreds before it had been found. It had been screaming when Mihawk had gotten to it, and went on screaming and screaming as Mihawk had bloodied himself trying to get it out of the thicket, the pain of torn skin and fingers an afterthought. They had been the screams of a child, but not the screams of a human, both guttural and agonized together. Those are the screams that come from Shanks now, and Mihawk's fingers tingle with the memory of a thousand needle-sharp points. In his arms Shanks feels no different from that baby lamb, warm and red and insane from the pain. "Tarō!" Shanks howls, nothing human in that cry except for the name of the dead man in front of them. The Tarō mentioned in these scenes is an actual member of the Roger pirates, here and here,

#mishanks #loguetown au #uh #sorry in advance

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thegallows-world · 2 years ago

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Hanging in High School

I was on the High School water polo team. Whenever the pool was undergoing maintenance we had to use a workout gym the wrestling team used. Our coach was lazy so he often had a couple guys take control so he could leave early. One of them, Fitzgerald (Fitz) was a senior and had the perfect swimmers body. He had big broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was stretching by lying on a mat face down and aching his back and head as far as he could. I was watching for a while because he had an awesome throat and it was fully exposed. There was an extension cord plugged in near where he was stretching, so I made my way over and picked up the cord. I briefly worried how mad he would be if I choked him with it, but I saw the opportunity and I had to take it.

As I place the cord around his neck he panicked and reached for the cord. He left the pushup position and reached for his neck so quick I didn't have time to give him slack. He choked for a brief moment as I let him down but it left a pronounced but beautiful red mark across his throat. Another team mate, Tony, saw what I did and came over and made a big deal out of it. He yelled at me: “look at his neck!! Then he examined Fitz’s neck with great concern. He wanted to hold me so Fitz could choke me with the cord. He called some other guys over to help him but Fitz told them no. Fitz was a laidback beach boy type so I could see how he would just let it go. The guys seem eager to do what ever Tony wanted. I apologized to Fitz as he coughed and cleared his throat, I thought it was over. He and Tony went to a restroom to see in a mirror what the big deal was all about. Little did I know what Tony would convince Fitz to do.

After our workout we all striped and went to the showers. Some of the guys seemed to be in a great hurry. I took my time and as I dried off.As I got to my locker four of the guys surrounded me. They were shirtless and hair still wet. Tony walked up to me with a jump-rope loose around his neck and told me to put my gym shorts back on. I was still a little wet as were the other guys that hurried to put their jeans on. I drop my towel and grab my gym shorts and pulled them up. I asked what was going on as they turned me around and made me put my hands behind my back. Tony took the rope from his neck and tied my hands with it. I didn’t try to resist much because these guys looked serious and there was no way I could get away. He told me that if I cooperated I would not be hurt as he tied my hands. After he tied my hands he left with Fitz as I stood dripping with the guys for about 3 minutes to see where we would go next. They seemed to know what was going

to happen but were very secretive. Tony returned and told the guys to bring me back to gym.

Fitz had the keys since he was supposed to lock the gym up after we left. I heard them jingle at the door as they escorted me back. I didn't think they would beat me up but I had no idea what they would do. Perhaps they would humiliate and intimidate me or let Fitz choke me with the cord. Jack and Dean each had an arm as we walked and a kid named Greg tagged along from behind. I used to love to pin Greg and choke the shit out of him which was easy since he was smaller and two years younger. He had a cute adamsapple that grew out from the middle of his neck and it always got my attention.

We went back into the gym and they lead me to a scaffold in the corner of the room. A brief thought of being hanged passed through my mind and made me excited, but it seemed too far fetched. Tony and Fitz left to get ‘something’ out of the utility box and returned about 5 minutes later with a long rope in Tony’s hands. Jack, who was very lean and had a long neck and perfect adamsapple looked at me said: “I always wanted to see someone hang“. I jerked a bit when I realized what they were going to do. He and Dean tighten their hold on me to keep me from trying to get away.

I knew this all had to be Tony's idea, he often would ask me if I had a favorite way to die. He said he likes the noose and how good it would look around my neck. He also described what he called a Russian tie. He would put a rope around his neck to describe what it was. He sometimes engaged me to wrestle with him which always led to me being pinned and choked. Often he would sit behind me on the bus to garrote me from behind. Having an opportunity to hang me seemed a logical step.

The long rope in his hands was new and was supposed to be cut up to make jump-ropes. He tied a small noose and tossed the it over the scaffold bar that was about 10 feet from the floor and then the back side of the scaffold. Tony looked at me with anticipation then got a dumb-bell that weighed 45 lbs and tied it to the end of the rope and sat it on a stool. The noose dangled as he and Fitz talked as they looked at the other guys. Then they called Dean to the scaffold because he was about the same height and build as me. He told him they had to test it first and needed to ‘borrow his neck‘. Almost eager Dean smiled went and stood under the scaffold near the noose. Tony described exactly what he was going to do and how to hold me when it was my turn. He un-tied the noose and put the rope around his neck in what he called a ‘Russian Tie‘. It was designed by to put most of the pressure on the back of the neck so the person can strangle longer when

they hanged. It looped around the neck twice and a knot in front of his throat above the adamsapple. The first loop pulls the chin up while the second loop stays above the adamsapple and prevents you from swallowing while slowly squeezes. The rope embedded just above his apple and made it seem much larger then normal. He adjusted the ‘tie’ and told Dean to put his hands behind his back and try not to move them until he couldn’t stand it. Dean swallowed hard and the rope bobbed on his neck that looked so hot. Fitz asked Dean if he was ready then nodded at Tony to take the weight off the stool and slowly let the it down. It pulled Dean up and tilted his head back as it lifted him on his toes.

His abs tightened nicely and face soon turned red. The first 10 seconds Dean seemed ok, then he started to squirm and twitch a little. At 20 seconds he grunted and the color above the rope was dark red. At 30 seconds his legs seem to dance in slow motion. His abs tighten more and veins popped out as he worked to get a breath. Jack stood next to me as we watched. Jack adjusted himself but I couldn’t with hands tied. Dean tried to make it last as long as he could but he could only look up at the ceiling and wait till it got to be too much. It looked like he wanted to swallow but his throat barely could move against the rope. By this time there was no way his apple could get under the rope. They watched the clock and counted until Dean’s hands finally reached for the rope - about 45 seconds.

Fitz was ready to catch Dean as Tony put the weight back on the stool. They un-tied his neck as they sat Dean on a mat to evaluate his hanging. It took Dean a few minutes to catch his breath. His face was still a little red as he described what it was like. They wanted to determine how long I should be hanged or if it needed more weight. It was strange to hear them talk about how I should hang as if I weren’t there. Dean said I should be able to last 70 seconds and that they took him down before he was ready. Fitz wanted me to hang for the same 50 seconds. Tony wanted to wait until after my knees buckled. They decided to add 5 more pounds and hang me for one minute or until my knees buckled.

Dean was sent back to help Jack bring me toward the scaffold. With a big smile and red line around his neck Dean approached me and said: "ok, your turn to hang". Since Dean didn't seem to have too much of a problem I figured it can't be that bad. I thought I had better just go along or they may beat me up and then hang me anyway. They walked me towards the scaffold where Tony stood with the rope in his hands. Jack took another jump-rope tied my elbows closer together and made my chest puff out. As I stood under the scaffold Tony held out the rope and ask Fitz if he wanted to do the "honors". Fitz thought about it then said: ‘no” . Greg said he would like to. Tony grab his throat and said: “you can barely tie your shoes, go get another jump-rope and tie his feet“. I knew Tony would enjoy tying the rope around my neck more than anyone else. Fitz still had a little red line around his neck as he watched Tony coiled the rope loose around my neck and

let it sit on my shoulders. Greg tied my feet and stood looking at me with the biggest grin and as excited as a school girl. He passed his finger across his throat in a symbol that I was doomed. My heart was racing by this time and Tony asked if there was anything I wanted to say before he adjusted the ‘tie‘. I asked Fitz if he really thought I should be hanged for what I did. Fitz moved the rope that laid on my shoulders as if he were going to tighten it himself but then left it lose and looked away as if he had no say in the ordeal.

Tony said I should at least apologize to Fitz. I said he can get an apology or hang me but not both. Jack then said “ usually the guy who has his hands tied behind his back and a rope around his neck isn’t so combative”. Fitz said I had to be hanged since they went this far and it wouldn’t be fair to Dean. Tony said that two guys here now have red marks around their necks and I didn’t. He asked the guys if they agreed that I should be hanged. As he raised his hand the rest of the guys raised theirs, Greg added “ Hang him! “ Tony looked at me and said: “there, you are now sentenced to hang“. Of all of them Fitz was the only one that seemed sympathetic. Tony got Dean to hold my head back while he adjusted the ‘tie’. It was rapped around my neck twice and a knot above my adamsapple. He tied it really tight and I was barley able to swallow. Tony walk to the back of the scaffold and the guys took a couple steps back and waited for the

second hand on the clock to reach the top, about 15 seconds. This allowed me to swallow a couple of times. They all stood about five feet away as they waited for the weight to be dropped. Fitz watched with his arms crossed and no expression on his face. Jack stood next to him and touched his neck and apple as he watched. Greg stood looking with a big grin he could not get ride of and Dean stood with his hands behind his back as if he was reliving his hanging. Jack counted down the seconds on the clock, then I could feel the weight lifting me up. My head tilted back and I could see the rope as it went over the bar above. I tried not to let it make me tip toe but it was no use, and then my calves soon started to burn. At first is was not too bad, I could breath but I could hear funny wheezing noises. Jack called off every ten seconds from the clock, and my faced filled heavy and lips tingled. After about 25 seconds it seemed to get much tighter and it was

getting harder to breath. I could hear them laugh and make comments about how my body was reacting. I was wheezing and gasping by now and my abs were tight and hands clenched behind my back. It must have been obvious that my dick was hard and up against my shorts, briefly, I wondered if I looked as good as Dean when he was hanging. About 50 seconds I was twisting and gasping which made the weight bounce and the rope tighten. Dean spoke out and said he thought I had enough. Then Tony asked if he wanted to hang again. At 60 seconds my body was trembling and bouncing and my vision was to blurred. Jack called off ‘one minute’ then I thought it should be over now but Tony said to hold on a little longer. There I was still gasping and choking. How long were they going to let me hang after the time was up, I didn’t think I could take it much longer. My vision was blurry and I was getting weak. I felt my knees buckle a couple of times and the next thing I

knew I was knelt on the floor with Fitz and Jack holding me up and Tony loosing the rope from my neck. I was wobbly and jerking like someone who was choked out. They laid me on the mat as I slowly came to. Tony said I lasted a ‘minute and 25 seconds’ as if I should be proud. Jack un-tied my hands as Tony checked out my neck with his fingers on my throat. After a couple of minutes I sat up and Fitz helped me to my feet. He put one of my arms over his big shoulders to steady me on my feet. He walked me back to my locker that was still open and asked if I was ok. I was surprised he was so concerned for me to know if I was ok since he was the reason I was hanged. He sat with me for a short while, then he said he was sorry they had to hang me to prove a point. Dean and Jack stood near as I change and asked if I needed help. I told them I was fine on my owe.

Greg stood behind and began asking lots of questions of what it was like to be hanged. It was hard to talk or even swallow. Greg was still hard which showed from his shorts that he was still exited. He stared at my neck as he asked his questions. Did it hurt? Was it intense? I asked him if it left any bruises. " Two marks on the sides of your neck right here". He slowly slid two fingers along where the marks were on my neck. He just wanted to touch my neck where a rope had been that hanged me. He said he could feel how my skin was still rough where the rope was embedded. We went to a mirror so I could see the marks, there was no doubt that I had been hanged. Two red lines on the side of my neck and one across my throat. My eyes were still red and swollen like I just woke up. Greg stayed with me as I finished getting dressed. It was funny how much he was still enjoying it. I wished I had enough energy right then to show him what it felt like. He paid a

price later though.

Over the next year I witnessed 7 other guy get hanged, almost once a month. A few guys from the wrestling team got to witness a hanging after a water polo guy knowingly hit on a wrestlers girlfriend. We asked them if we would take care of it our way. They sent a few of their guys over to see how we would take care of it and they were satisfied it was. Rules were made up by the seniors and a hangman assigned. It became popular to accuse someone of something that could get them hanged. These sometimes backfired causing the accuser to be hanged. Practice runs were done to teach the crew how to handle the accused. I often helped with these since I had some experience. It also gave the hangman a chance to practice tying the ‘tie’ on a real neck. Hangmen were always seniors, I could not be one since I had been hanged - damn rules. In most cases the hangmen were hanged with very light weights to see first hand what it was like. I loved to watch them

practice tying the rope around each others necks. A few times they practiced on mine. Jack became one of the 3 hangmen.

Those who were sentence would sometimes be allowed to set the date and time of their hanging for personal reasons or if the gym was not available. Two guys set their dates together for the last day before spring break. It was very ceremonial and attendance was high. Only certain member were allowed to attend. Some were able to bring friends that agreed to the rules, which made them subject to be hanged. Tony, the original ‘Hangman’ was there to hang one of the guys. Alumni often would come to watch when dates were set. Tony came to me and fingered my throat. He liked to remind me that he tied the rope that around my neck ‘right there’ that hanged me. ’Hangman’ as he was called must have hanged at least 4 other guys before he graduated that year. I always hated to find out I missed one.

The two guys to be hanged were friends with each other and came together. They came on time and visited with Tony and the guys that would tie their hands and set things up. We all joked for a while and the two nervously laughed and both wanted Tony to be their hangman since he was like a celebrity. He said he would be glad to hang the first to be hanged. I was often the brunt of the joke for those who came to watch since I was the first to officially be hanged and had wear a noose tie that indicated I had been hanged before. Pulling on my tie always seemed to be a must for some guys. So, I waited with the two guys in the hallway as they sat things up in the gym and people started to show. They wanted to know what to expect even though they had seen others hang before. The two were sophomores and got caught trying to setup another teammate so he would be accused. Only one was involved but neither would not flip on his friend, so they both had to hang. We

went into the restroom so they could piss one last time and change into their gym shorts. Eric was short with a lean, gymnast body. I could not wait to see him with a tie around his neck. Jared was tall and handsome, almost to good looking to hang. I think he was hoping Eric would admit it was him that pulled the prank but by now it was too late. And neither were shy about having to strip with a hard dick standing straight up. They didn’t say anything but took time to look at each other. We walked back into the hallway where three guys, one of them Greg, stood with ropes to tie their hands behind their backs. They both faced each other as the crew tied their hands behind their back. Everything started late in the evening and the first hanging was to be at 10:00P.M. They were hanged separately and a flip of a coin determine who went first. Just before 10:00 a signal was sent to bring them both in for the official comments. We brought them in and stood

them by their noose. Finally they were asked if they accepted their sentence to hang. They both nodded yes and the coin was flipped. Jared won the toss and took Eric back to the hall were another friend of his waited with him. Tony hanged Jared like a pro at exactly 10:00 P.M. It was awesome to see Tony work on someone else’s neck. After they took Jared down and into the locker room, Eric was brought in and Jack was his hangman. As Eric walked toward the scaffold the veins in his neck were already popping out. After Jack tied the rope around his neck the veins were really bulging. Up to then it was the hottest hanging I had seen. I helped take Eric down and helped him to the locker room. His cute neck had the best rope burns. In all it took over an hour for both hangings and ceremony.

Since I had been hanged I couldn’t be hanged again but I could not get someone else hanged. But it didn’t prevent me from paying someone to do it for me. It was a great setup. He was found with the keys to a seniors car in his jacket pockets. A mini-trial found him guilty and sentenced to ‘HANG’. He denied ever having the keys and they determined that he should be hanged immediately. We took him to his locker and made him strip and put on his gym shorts. It was impossible for him to conceal his dick getting hard as he striped. I told him “ don’t worry, it happens to everyone”. He put on his shorts and I turned him around to tie his hands. I wrapped the rope around one wrist then the other. Everyone else went to setup and only I and another guard stood behind. I sat on the bench with him and told him I was glad to be a part of his hanging. Then I told him it was the best ten bucks I ever spent. He said he could not believe I would pay that

just to tie his hands. Then I said : “not for that, to have the keys put in your jacket”. Greg stood up and turned with a shocked look as if he just lost a big game. Since I had a alibi no one was going to believe I set him up. I told him: “you got to see me hang first but I got you to be hanged , so I win“. We had to wait until things were setup and guest could show. He sat quite and shook his head. He always knew he would end up with a rope around his neck someday, but to hang because of me really made it seem more real.

A messenger soon came and announced it was time for the show. We escorted Greg to the gym where everyone was waiting for the guest of honor. It seemed that there were a lot of guys that wanted to see Greg hang. He slowed as he saw the noose waiting for him under the scaffold. We stood him next to the noose as a few ceremonial comments were made. Then it was announced : “Greg you are sentenced to hang do you have any final words”. He looked at me and said: “NO!”. Then hangman un-tied the noose and tied the ’Russian tie’ around his neck. A strap was tied around his legs at his knees. He still looked shocked and he glared at me the whole time they tied the rope around his cute little neck. It is one thing to hang after being caught doing something to get you hanged. But when you are set up and did nothing wrong is really humiliating. All I could do is smile and run my finger across my throat. It took almost a year but his was the best hanging of all

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