#trash bin cleaning service

[susan-exactink]

Top 5 Features Every Bin Cleaning Website Should Have

Introduction: Discuss the essential features that make a bin cleaning website effective and user-friendly.

Online Booking System: Explain the importance of an easy-to-use online booking system for customer convenience. Responsive Design: Highlight the need for a mobile-friendly design to ensure accessibility on all devices. Detailed Service Pages: Discuss the benefits of providing comprehensive information about your services, including pricing and FAQs. Customer Reviews and Testimonials: Emphasize the role of customer reviews in building trust and credibility. Contact Information: Ensure your contact details are easily accessible, including phone number, email, and physical address.

[binbidet]

Thwarting the Garbage Critters of Southern Indiana with a Local Trash Can Cleaning Service

Southern Indiana, especially in Clark and Harrison counties, is known for its picturesque hilly, wooded areas. However, these beautiful landscapes also mean an abundance of wildlife, many of which are attracted to the smells and scraps festering in your trash cans. 

Critters rummaging through your garbage can create a mess and pose several health and safety risks. 

Here’s a look at the common local critters, the problems they cause, and how a local trash can cleaning service can help keep them at bay.

Common Local Critters Attracted to Trash

Raccoons: Raccoons are notorious for their dexterity and intelligence. They can easily open unsecured trash cans, making a meal out of your waste. Once they discover a food source, they tend to return, bringing along more raccoons.

Opossums: Opossums are scavengers and often turn to trash bins for an easy meal. While generally less destructive than raccoons, they can still create a mess and potentially spread diseases through their droppings.

Stray Cats and Dogs: Stray animals, including cats and dogs, are attracted to the smell of food in trash cans. They can tear through bags and scatter waste, leading to a bigger cleanup job and more persistent odor issues.

Rats and Mice: Rodents are drawn to the food scraps in your trash bins. They not only make a mess but also pose significant health risks as they can carry and transmit diseases.

Why Creatures Getting into Trash is Bad

Health Risks: Animals rummaging through trash can spread diseases through their droppings and saliva. Rodents, in particular, are known carriers of diseases such as leptospirosis and hantavirus.

Mess and Odor: Critters can tear open trash bags, scattering waste across your yard. This not only creates an unsightly mess but also exacerbates odor problems, attracting even more pests.

Property Damage: Persistent animal activity around trash bins can lead to property damage. Animals like raccoons can damage bins, requiring frequent replacements and repairs.

Environmental Impact: Scattered trash can contribute to environmental pollution, affecting local wildlife and waterways. Ensuring your trash is contained and bins are clean helps mitigate this impact.

How a Local Trash Can Cleaning Service Can Help

Creatures are attracted to your bins by built up smells and residue. Here’s how to combat this and keep critters far away from your trash cans and your property.

Regular Cleaning and Sanitization: A local trash can cleaning service provides regular cleaning and sanitization of your bins. This removes all of the nastiness that attracts critters, making your trash less appealing to wildlife.

High-Pressure Washing: Using high-pressure washing, these services can effectively clean your bins. This method uses less water compared to traditional cleaning methods, conserving resources while providing a deep clean.

Eco-Friendly Products: Local trash can cleaning services often use eco-friendly cleaning products. These products eliminate odors and bacteria without harming the environment, providing a safer option for both your family and local wildlife.

Proper Wastewater Disposal: Professional cleaning services ensure that dirty water is disposed of responsibly, preventing pollutants from entering local waterways and sewer systems. This helps maintain the environmental health of your community: Clark and Harrison counties.

Convenient Scheduling: By aligning their services with your trash collection schedule, local cleaning companies make it easy to maintain clean bins without extra effort on your part. They handle the dirty work, so you don’t have to.

Finding a Local Trash Can Cleaning Service

Living in the beautiful, rural areas of Southern Indiana comes with peace and proximity to nature. But it also has its challenges, particularly when it comes to keeping wildlife out of your trash. 

By employing a local trash can cleaning service, you can significantly reduce the appeal of your bins to local critters. Bin Bidet is a locally-owned business that exclusively serves Clark and Harrison counties. They provide regular trash can cleaning using eco-friendly practices that are designed to repel critters and keep your bins clean  and your home a sanctuary.

[lonestarbincleaners]

https://lonestarbincleaners.com/trash-bin-cleaning-service/ - Prosper, TX, thrives on a clean lifestyle, but what about your garbage bins? LONESTAR Bin Cleaners offers residential and commercial garbage bin cleaning. Our dedicated team tackles the toughest grime and odors, leaving your bins sanitized and fresh. Don't wait - say goodbye to dirty bins and hello to a cleaner, healthier Prosper! Contact us for your first cleaning today.

[gellymark-blog]

Prosper Sanitation Services - Professional Trash Can Cleaning in Prosper

Discover the ultimate trash can cleaning service in Prosper, TX at LONESTAR Bin Cleaners. Our expert team ensures your bins are spotless and odor-free. Say goodbye to the hassle of dirty trash cans. Sign up online now!

[bagez-trash-holder]

How do you clean garbage cans that are bug-infested?

How to clean garbage cans is a hot search topic, especially in summer. When heat quickly turns bins into stink pits, that is a breeding ground for harmful bacteria, viruses, and other harmful pathogens.

The sight of maggots and the rotting smell from reeking garbage bins make us gag. Filthy bins attract raccoons and vermin, often leaving a mess to clean up. Washing disgusting containers is a horrible, revolting chore, and we are tired of it. Yet does it have to get done, or does it now?

So, how do we stop this senseless cycle? & Keep Clean garbage cans!

Available Bag Products To Help Keep Clean Garbage Cans

Paper and other environmentally friendly bags and products are common substitutes for plastics in the organic stream. Most paper bags don’t hold up, and they get costly fast. Many bio-degradable and compostable bags have gelatine or thin plastic linings to avoid disintegration. Using oversized or extra-large garbage bags in trash cans prevents the lids from properly shutting. Flies get access through openings & lay eggs, which causes maggots. Bags rip or tear when a built-in locking mechanism is present. So we revert to what we know works well: plastic bags, specifically single-use grocery or checkout bags. But they are getting more costly, consistently fail at doing the job effectively, and have caused irreversible environmental damage.

Want a hassle-free solution to keep clean garbage cans?

Garbage bags or bin liners, whatever you call them, ‘work.’ They help keep bins clean, which is why we all use them. But it’s impossible to find reasonably priced bags that stretch and fit over the large openings of our containers. When buying trash bags, we have all looked for bags that fit our bins. Oversized loads are commonly found in the manufacturing industry, as they exceed residential limits and are overpriced.

We want one simple, reliable solution that makes it a mess and hassle-free fix. That solution is BagEZ. The world’s first garbage bag holder that makes managing your waste super easy and an easy way to clean garbage cans smell.

How BagEZ gives you clean garbage cans every time

Always start with a clean can and use good quality bags for the best results.

Setting up BagEZ is quick, simple, and effortless. You can do it in 3 easy steps.

Unfold your frame and hang the handles on the raised edges of your open container.

Insert your bag through the center and pull the edges over the frame. Ensure adequate overhanging material to avoid bag slippage.

Firmly attach your fasteners by pressing down one side at a time until all four corners are secure.

That’s it. It’s that simple.

You are now ready to throw your trash away. See the VIDEO

Replacing and adding new bags.

Lift, Drop, and shut. That’s your routine until your bag reaches capacity. Replacing bags is super easy.

Pull off the four fasteners, one side at a time.

Let your bag drop, and seal it.

Add new bags as needed until your bin is full.

Remove your BagEZ bag holder before putting your bin at the curb

All waste in the bag, including nasty and gross items, is removed, leaving you with a clean bin without any effort.

Drop a few newspapers in your bin to absorb any liquids that may leak if your bag happens to be ripped or punctured accidentally. Lining your container with a few papers when you are going to use a brand of trash bags you have not tried before will again save you from having to wash out your bin thoroughly. Check your containers for any leaks or accidents after trash collection. Upgrade to a better quality bag to avoid future disasters, as BagEZ can firmly secure bags up to 55 lbs / 25 kgs.

BagEZ can easily be combined with other odor and pest-eliminating products to give you added control and peace of mind.

Approximately 100 liters of water are wasted washing out bins and spraying clean garbage cans on driveways and lawns with the nasty stuff in your containers. That dirty water is toxic and frequently gets into the drainage system, contaminating stormwater. Besides preserving water, you save money and do not waste time washing out nasty garbage containers. Detergents and other products used to clean bins are also saved.

Additional Benefits Of BagEZ

Single-use plastic bags, commonly identified as shopping, grocery, or checkout bags, cost 5 to 10 cents a bag and are rising. Thin bags are famous for leaks, and double-bagging is smart. Grocery bags hold little waste but spill a lot when crushed. Additionally, recycling facilities jam systems and cause huge problems.

The average household disposes of about 3 to 5 bags per week, if not more. Trash bags hold more waste in volume, cost way less, and are great at holding trash and keeping bins clean.

BagEZ is versatile and makes managing waste anywhere super easy. You can hang, suspend, or rest BagEZ just about anywhere you want to make disposing of trash quick and convenient. The easy-carry handles make moving your bag around or to the bin accessible.

We hope BagEZ gives you years of service. There are substantial environmental benefits, which you can find in our FAQ section. Please share BagEZ with us because we want to make managing waste easy.

A clean garbage cans service near me versus BagEZ

After trying to find a reliable, cost-effective, hassle-free, clean garbage can service near me and failing. I created BagEZ to provide me with the convenience and target price I wanted.

The BagEZ system provided a meticulous cleaning service for my garbage cans and brought a revolutionary approach to waste management. Unlike conventional services, BagEZ ensures thorough cleaning while being eco-friendly and eliminating the use of harsh chemicals while providing 24/7 protection.

Its compact design and portability made it a hassle-free choice, catering to my need for cleanliness in confined spaces. The ease of use and the added benefit of being environmentally conscious convinced me that BagEZ was the superior choice for maintaining spotless, odor-free garbage cans in my vicinity.

How do you clean garbage cans?

Typical cleaning involves work, a bunch of tools & products to make cleaning your garbage can easier.

° Pressure washer is excellent, but a hose gets the job done.

° A scrubber with a long or extendable handle & tough bristles to remove tough grime & gunk and avoid crawling in the bin to scrub.

° Cleaning Products to loosen the dirt & remove odors are a must. I could go on about the effort, time, and water used or try BagEZ. A bag holder that allows you to fit any regular bin liner and keep your waste contained

How often should you clean your garbage can?

On average, two times a year is recommended, but it depends. Hot, humid conditions in states like Florida, Louisiana, and Texas make garbage can cleaning a necessity. Diapers, pet & food waste quickly turn garbage cans into stink pits full of harmful germs and pathogens.

Summer is getting hotter, and regular trash can cleanings quickly become a pain and a health hazard. BagEZ garbage can -trash bag holders eliminate this problem for you while delivering professional trash can cleaning service results. 

As your trash is collected, everything in your trash bag, garbage juice, putrid food, and more gets taken away. You are left with a clean garbage can every time. Use quality LDPE trash bag for the best result.

[skyfacilitymanagement]

https://skyfacilitymanagement.com.au/tiling-contractors-melbourne/

[geelongappliancespares]

Qualified Residential Tile Contractors

Tile contractors install ceramic, porcelain and marble products to walls, floors and other surfaces in residential or commercial buildings. They also work with grout to make a finished product that will hold up over time.

Architects and designers depend on qualified labor to bring their design ideas to life, transforming their vision into reality. This is a job that requires technical expertise and specialized knowledge of the materials that make up tile, as well as adherence to industry standards and manufacturers’ recommendations.

Qualified labor means that an installer has proven his or her skills and experience through third-party examinations. These tests, called Certified Tile Installer (CTI) certifications, require at least two years of full-time tile installation experience. During this period, the installer has been responsible for substrate preparation, layout, coordinating with other trades and properly installing underlayment, tile, grout and sealant materials.

These qualifications ensure that an installer has the knowledge, skills, and experience needed to perform a quality, long-lasting, and successful installation. They also ensure that an installer is committed to continuing education and maintaining his or her certifications in the field.

Contractors insurance is an essential part of any business’s risk management plan and can help protect against the financial costs of a claim, especially one that involves injury to people or property. In addition to liability coverage, many contractors carry general insurance that provides a robust layer of protection against property damage and bodily injury.

Professional associations such as the National Tile Contractors Association provide information and training for their members that helps ensure that their installers have the knowledge, skills and experience necessary to do a job right the first time. Moreover, NTCA members have access to live technical assistance from the NTCA Technical Experts who can assist them in resolving challenges and problems that might arise during tile installations.

Homeowners can get a better understanding of their options by searching online reviews from consumer review sites such as Google, Yelp and Angie’s List. These ratings can tell you a lot about a company’s past and current customer service and quality of work.

Look for a professional who is a member of the National Tile Contractors Association and has a reputation for excellence in quality and customer service. The NTCA is the only industry association that has a comprehensive and detailed set of standards and guidelines for all types of residential tile installations. Having an NTCA certified tile installer is important because they have proven that they meet the highest standard of professionalism, reliability, skill, craftsmanship and technical performance in the industry.

A good tile contractor should have a strong track record of performing quality, long-lasting installations for satisfied customers. He or she should offer a range of services and be available to answer your questions throughout the project.

You can also ask your contractor to provide references from customers who are willing to discuss their experiences with the installer’s work. Getting the names and contact information of these individuals will give you peace of mind knowing that your tile project is being handled by an experienced professional who knows the value of customer satisfaction.

[bintheretx]

Dallas Trash Can Cleaning Service

Bin There is a local, family-owned, and operated residential trash can and commercial dumpster cleaning service. We were founded on the principle that everyone deserves to have clean trash cans without the hassle of doing it yourself. Let’s be honest; it’s not a lot of fun cleaning out those stinky bins. Our specialized cleaning equipment uses high-pressure combined with 200°+ hot water and eco-friendly cleaning agents to leave your trash cans and dumpsters looking and smelling like new by killing up to 99.9% of bacteria.  We serve a 20-mile radius around Prosper, which includes Plano, Allen, McKinney, Frisco, Celina, and more!

[love-note-musings]

˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜ toby x reader // creepypasta oneshot

request: HelloI May i request a oneshot where toby pins the reader against a wall and maybe threatens her but she lowkey can't focus BC she's thinking how pretty he is? The reader has a love hate relationship with him. Sorry if it's confusing.

word count: 3.6k

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────

     As the last costumer of the day left, your shoulders dropped as the tension ebbed out of your body, dropping the “customer service smile” you had plastered on for the last couple of hours. A lengthy sigh left your mouth and you shook out the tired feeling from your muscles and with a swift lock of the doors, you began your nightly routine of cleaning for close. 

      Working the night shift wasn’t so bad, you had thought, it was generally pretty uninteresting, living in a small town and all, the clientele were the same, jobs were casual, it wasn’t that horrible. Having worked at this quaint restaurant for a couple of years, you knew the ins-and-outs pretty well and you operated most of the tasks you needed to on autopilot. However, the job was one thing, and daily living was another. Of course the pay was less than what you needed to live on realistically, what with housing, insurance, and feeding yourself. You still didn’t mind the nightshift, you found it rather relaxing.

    Wiping down tables, sweeping floors and mopping, cleaning out cappuccino machines, all of it went by as fewer cars passed on the road. You could hear the breeze start of as a small gust here and there until it picked up into a violent wind that rattled the building. Soon, you figured it would begin storming, with big raindrops pelting down and you surely wanted to be in your own home underneath thick blankets before then. 

     Unlocking the back entrance, you began dragging the heavy trash-bags out in the back of the parking lot, the last thing you’d need to complete before heading home for the day. You could feel how the cold nipped at your skin and willed your legs to go faster. 

     The city was always quiet, it was still except for the symphonies trees played nearby in the forest, clanging against each other from the wind. There were stories of course, about people going in and never coming back, but there were lots of people who did come back, more so than the latter, so the locals knew it as folktales. In reality, it was just another ordinary small town, with small-towned people, small-towned restaurants, and small-towned ideas. Forest or not, it was also another small-town ideal.

     Swinging the bag into the bin, you closed it with a sharp bang just as the back door to the restaurant flew with a clang. The weather was worsening overhead with dark clouds hiding the moon and the wind was threatening to take you away with it. Your feet carried you back inside as fast as they could, one pounding after another. //

//     He crashed into the back door with a thud as his legs gave out, one arm trying to hoist himself up and another trying to stop his wound from exuding any more blood. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but the exhaustion was creeping up his body, the lights had looked like crystallized diamonds hanging off of his eyelids, and he stumbled into them with reckless abandon before collapsing on tiled floor… somewhere. Vision swimming, legs crumpled underneath him, he sat there, body trembling and nauseated, trying to grasp onto his abdomen in an attempt to convince his body to let him back up, to keep moving. It wasn’t even that bad of a wound despite its length, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t  work with, but there he was, slipping on himself in the back of some beat-up building. The lights slightly flickered every few seconds, the buzzing of electrical appliances seemingly rang through his ears in tenfold, there was nothing in his stomach but his body forced him to empty it anyway, spilling out nothing onto the black and white tiles besides the gagging noises coming from him. He couldn’t stop the movement from racking his body once again as he dragged himself forward. 

     There was a scream, a crash maybe, all he saw was a figure with their arms raised high, ready to pounce on him, everything else was foggy besides the lights. Big, bright lights. Groggily, he looked up with lidded eyes, mouth slightly agape, nostrils flaring, trying to allow more oxygen into his lungs. He yelled at his brain to move faster and to process the situation, finding nothing once again but some static sound that filled it. Their mouth moved, and the sound flowed back into his ears, slowly, and then all at once.

     “I said—“ they cleared their throat “do you need me to call the authorities?” There was an umbrella raised threateningly in their hands, knuckles already turned white. It looked like their breath was caught in their throat and their body shaked. He slowly registered the information piece-by-piece, stringing together some semblance of thought. 

     Slowly, he forced his head to move side to side, shaking ‘no’. 

     “Are you hurt?” They asked authoritatively, despite the tremble in their knees.

      Again, another rather slow nod, another no. Hurt was subjective, after all. 

     Sighing, they lowered the umbrella just a little more to their side. “What do you need? Are you in trouble?”

     He ended up coughing violently, his head was spinning and he was mentally whacked. “b.. bath- can I use your b..athroom.”

     They stood off to the side and pointed towards it, watching his movements as he tried to force himself to stand upright. He managed to get up to his knees before crashing over again. 

     “I’m going to help move you there, okay?” they said as they set the umbrella down against the wall and moved closer towards him. He nodded once and they hooked an arm underneath his and guided him to the bathroom. 

     They turned on the light inside, indicated him to ‘be careful’ and that ‘there was a first aid kit under the sink’, before leaving him alone with a soft close of the door. 

     Toby gazed at himself in the mirror, bracing his weight against the sink before shakily turning the knob and splashing himself with cool water. How many days had it been since he had first left? He couldn’t even recall how long he’d been out, but it was long enough for his body to put the brake lights on his activities and start naming demands. And one of the demands was water. He earnestly started to drink the water from the faucet, cupping his hand and bringing it up to his lips over and over again.//

//     Meanwhile, an exasperated worker decided to flick back on the lights to the dining room and begin preparing a small meal to share with the guy who just stumbled into their restaurant. They didn’t really know what his deal was, nor did they care to know, they just wanted to give him something to eat before sending him back out into the storm. If he wouldn’t talk then maybe he’d eat and be able to go back home or something like that. Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your responsibility to know, but you’d also be damned for not trying to help him out just a little bit. 

     It took awhile, but the bathroom door finally clicked open and close again. Toby stumbled along the hallway and followed the light into the dining room. There were bandages wrapped around his abdomen and minor scratches on his legs and arms. His body was exhausted and his mind was more or less alert. 

     “Hey,” when you saw him feebly inch his way, you quickly went over and offered a hand, to which he shaked it off. Regardless, you told him where he could sit in the dining room,  a little booth by the kitchen door, and watched to make sure he settled himself well. You made a note of how determined he was despite his body practically shutting down, and he hadn’t tried to stop himself yet. Even as he fell into the booth, you watched as his body relaxed and his eyes stayed vigilant, always looking this way and that, carefully observing. It was fascinating. But again, it wasn’t your business. 

     You placed a plate in front of him with leftover food from the fridge and a pastry you had been saving to take home. “You have a drink preference? I can get you water.” He shook his head and you got him a glass of water anyway, of which he eyed a bit oddly, sipping little by little. When he saw the food, however, you noticed that he immediately went for the pastry.

     He was…strange, at the very least, that’s what you gathered as you watched him from the kitchen picking at his food and glancing around every couple minutes to double and triple check his surroundings. If you had to admit to yourself, you just wanted to go home, and by now it was raining, evident by the sound of raindrops pattering onto the rooftop. You were tired too, having worked all day, cleaning up and waiting on people, and now doing it all over again for a second time. Thankfully tomorrow you’d have a day off. 

     When he drank all of the water in the glass, you went over to refill it. “My name’s Y/n, what’s yours?” You asked with as much normalcy as possible, hand settling on your waist as you stepped back to watch his expression. 

     “Toby.” He muttered, before eating more and ignoring you. 

     “It’s nice to meet you, Toby.” 

     Sometime while you were re-cleaning the kitchen, you heard the bells on the door open with a clamor and close. Shrugging, you supposed he would have left, and you didn’t expect anything more from him. But now that you were thinking about it, it was kind of weird for someone to stumble in from the back of the building, but lots of things happened out in the forest. People go out with their friends, some people like hunting deer, who knows? Some kid could have just gotten mixed up with the wrong people and left out there. You don’t consider it much, but you sealed it away in the back of your mind as a little note for later as you left the restaurant and headed home. Personally, you had never experienced anything bad out there. //

//    It became more common for ‘Toby’ to show up after closing hours. Every few days or so, he’d show up looking tired and miserable, he’d ask to use your bathroom and then lug himself out to the dining room while you gave him the leftovers. You didn’t push him to talk about himself and settled for short conversations about the weather, or asking if he needed you to call anyone this week. Whenever you asked if he needed anything, he’d say no and continue eating solemnly, playing with his food and acting almost disinterested with it. 

     “What’s your favorite food?” You asked while chewing a piece of bread from the pantry. 

     Toby shrugged, “I don’t really have one.” 

     “There has to be something that you like at least? Can’t you think of something? I can try to make sure we keep some of it here.”

     He pondered for a moment, putting his fork down. You never questioned his sudden movements or verbal outbursts at all, figuring it’d be best not to pester him with questions since he obviously couldn’t control it, other people probably bothered him enough. Toby answered you quietly, “I liked that pastry you first gave me, I..I don’t remember when that was.”

     “Hmm.. okay. I can get it for you next time.”

     And the next time you did, and the time after that, until you were sure that he was sick of it every time you served it to him. But he never said anything and accepted it without a word.

    Perhaps you could say that the two of you had come to a mutual understanding, maybe a friendship, and you wouldn’t admit it to yourself that you looked forward to your short and awkward meetings. You didn’t know much about each other, but you felt comfortable despite his out-of-the-normal appearance and habits. It was non-judge mental, as far as anyone else was concerned, nothing happened here after-hours anyway.

     You found yourself tracing his facial features in your mind, promising them to memory and making mock-paintings in your mind. He had pretty eyelashes, his skin was pale and light, he had deep scarring on the side of his mouth, that’s why you assumed he wore the mask in public, you couldn’t be sure though, and you could be less sure about the googles attached to his jeans. The only thing is that you’d wish he’d eat more since it was obvious his health wasn’t the greatest. Whenever you saw him, he was almost always exhausted and almost ready to pass out. Although, besides the first time you met, you didn’t see him with any more wounds, so you supposed it was just some off-handed accident and nothing intentional. 

     Yeah, you politely admitted to yourself that you were quite fond of your new and odd friend. Perhaps attracted, whatever attraction meant. You found him nice to be around. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to feel the same. It had been a long time since you’ve had a proper friend. . . 

     Rock songs played from the radio atop the refrigerator, melodies soft and sweet, they played from collections of the classics and you loved it. During your shifts you’d lose yourself in the tune, pretending that you existed inside music videos and getting lost in a world where the waiters and waitresses were the main characters. You had asked Toby a while ago if he liked the station you left the radio on, hoping it was to his tastes. He had replied affirmatively, and you had kept the radio on that station every time he visited. 

     “Come on, get up.” you instructed, coming around the bar and onto the dining room floor. 

     “What?” He asked, nonetheless getting up from the barstool and following you along. 

     “You like this song, I like this song, let’s dance.”

     “But I don’t know how—“ Toby insisted as you took his hands anyway.

     You scoffed with a fool’s smile, “Neither do I.”

     At first you dragged him along around the dining room floor, navigating between the tables and chairs, tapping to the beat. He was awkward and didn’t know how to move his legs, flinging this way and that, but eventually he fell into your pattern and moved along. You both laughed, rocking your bodies to the beat hand in hand. Swaying left and right and once or twice trying spin each other. At one point, Toby almost toppled over into a couple of chairs, but you grabbed on tight to his hands and didn’t let go. A silly little smile spread across your faces and the two of you turned giggly as a new song started playing and the dance continued. 

     It was true—the two of you really didn’t know how to dance, and if anyone were to look into the windows they’d see two people who were wildly uncoordinated. You felt like you owned the world and that your body was perfectly aligned to the songs, you saw Toby and how he finally looked relaxed, mouthing along to the lyrics and shaking his arms around freely with his eyes closed. When you started screaming out the lyrics yourself, belting out notes pitches too high or low, he didn’t hesitate in joining you, resulting in one grand cacophonous harmony. 

     When Toby left later that night, it hit him in the face. Realization, fear, all of those types of things that crept up his back and settled into the crock of his neck before lodging itself into thought. That feeling, it settled inside of him and wouldn’t leave, it overwhelmed him and gnawed away at his stomach lining. Toby was never still, and it was more apparent now as the anxiety rose up his cheeks. He gulped, drank from the water bottle you had given him, slipped his hatchets into his belt loops and disappeared back into the forest. He always left his hatchets hidden behind your restaurant whenever he visited you. Just so you’d never see them with all the dents and stains that’d scare you away and leave him alone again. Toby really hated being alone sometimes.

     And Toby also knew who he was. It was evident by those same stains. It haunted him. He would never be able to sleep without seeing all of the things he’s witnessed, that he’s done. While knowing who you also were, he knew that you wouldn’t need him, that you’d need to help other people that got lost at night, who just need a helping hand. He’d hope you’d be able to help a lot more people than just him. You’d need to forget him, or at least you would, eventually. //

//     The night was quieter than normal. There was no radio playing, there were no cars passing by on the road, and there was no rain or wind, clear skies all day and all night. In short, it was boring. You were propped up by your elbow as you leaned over the bar countertop, idly skimming through the contents in some magazine left here by another customer. Only one customer remained, a pleasant old man who stopped by during the weekdays to watch the news on the television here. With a yawn and a tip, he left too, and you weren’t bothered to immediately lock the door after his departure. It had been a slow day.   

    He was behind the restaurant, hunched behind some garbage cans and waiting to hear the last car pull out from the parking lot. Everything was still and he was seeing the place for the first time with orange-tinted lenses.  He shook and shivered, bones rattling, and he couldn’t stop his arms from jerking even as he held himself together tighter. The last customer was gone. Now he just had to wait for you to come outside. Rocking back and forth to calm himself, he toyed with the fraying strings on the edge of his sleeves, occupying his mind and trying to distract himself from the bloodstains forming on his shirt and pants, not to mention the uncleaned hatchets that hung by his side. It wasn’t until a rather loud clang that he was snapped out of his trance.

Shooting up from his hiding spot, he made his way over to you without even a trickle of a sound. 

     All of a sudden you were shoved back towards the building, the air was knocked out of your chest from the force and you stumbled back. Toby had one hand blocking your exit, and another raised high above your head with a hatchet threatening to crack your skull open. 

     He stared at you, questioning himself, looking at you and then the hatchet and then you - you were terrified, and trembling, and god he wanted to disappear right at that moment, to drop everything and cling onto you. And he knew it wasn’t going to happen, but still his arms wobbled and there was a hitch in his throat. One hand slowly went to his mouth to stop the whimperings from escaping and the other slowly lowered his weapon until it fell onto the pavement.

     How could he be so stupid? He caved for the niceties, any inking of kindness and he instantly folded his hand. It wasn’t the terror in your eyes that had stopped him, it was just you. The way it felt to be so close again, how his body responded by going weak, he wanted to stay like that for a long time, he wanted to stay by you for as long as you’d let him. But he couldn’t do that, could he? Trust is a delicate thing. He knew that lesson well.

     You stood there with your back pressed painfully against the wall, your heart was beating frantically against your chest, your muscles were tense, your eyes were glued on Toby as he lost his resolve and crumbled down onto the ground in a heap with his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body up and down and he heaved. Kneeling down next to him, you grabbed the hatchet and threw it as far as you could, considering for a moment if you should comfort him or not before placing a hand tentatively on his back, rubbing circles once he responded to your touch. The goggles on his face were fogging up, and you carefully found the clasp underneath a topple of tangled brown hair, letting it fall onto the ground as you wiped the tears falling down his cheeks with your hand and slipped off his facial mask. 

     His eyes did not meet yours, leaning over and making himself seem small. He sobbed until there were no more tears left, and even then his chest just heaved wildly as he struggled to find an even breathing pace. Kneeling closer, you wrapped your arms tighter around him, embracing, whispering in a soothing voice. 

     Toby wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly at first before completely enveloping you, resting his head into your lap. You felt nice, and comfortable, safe. He hung onto you for dear life.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────

originally posted on quotev/citrusyfruits, reposted with permission

[artificial-transmutations]

Idea: My fantasy is to be forcibly transformed from a young, affluent, VERY clean, well-educated, well groomed, well dressed white corporate executive into a VERY dirty uneducated garbageman. I must be forced to surrender my corporate career, my car, my office, my name, my money, my expensive formal business suit and tie, my wristwatch and polished black dress shoes and even my dress socks, along the way to my new real life.

Boardroom to trash bins

You glance at the golden watch on your left wrist and decide to walk a little faster.

You are not late - yet - but the board meeting is too important to be late to. Of course, on the other hand, you can't walk so fast that you would break a sweat. The thought alone of arriving at meeting room with beads of sweat on your forehead or, God forbid, a damp spot on your dress shirt is even worse than coming a minute or two late. That, at least, you can blame on the traffic, which is not even wrong. Your expensive German car has been stuck behind a garbage truck for a good ten minutes. Inacceptable, of course. You would expect the city to schedule such annoying but probably necessary services at night, when there is no traffic that could be slowed down by it.

After all, you have a reputation to uphold! You are Jameson Pierce, son of the millionaire and successful investor James Pierce. You are also the owner and CEO of one of the most prominent investment companies, Pierce&Co.

You have the best business education money can buy and your decisions influence the fate of thousands of employees of yours. You don't arrive late to board meetings like that!

Still, there is no reason to get agitated yet. If the lift is free, you will arrive perfectly on time.

As you quickly make your way over the office parking lot that is being overshadowed by the 50 story skyscraper you own, you almost collide with an old man in a blue uniform, who is blocking the way into the building by picking up refuse from the ground. Apparently, the wind has knocked over the garbage can next to the entrance, and all the contents have scattered on the pavement. The old man is just bending down to pick up the cans and garbage bags and put them back in the bin.

"Out of the way!" you blurt. Usually, you are nicer to your employees by just curtly ignoring them, but this old man is blocking your way and moves slow as a snail.

"Of course, sir, right away!" he says with a toothless smile, and you almost gag. The old man is disgusting! He looks as if he has been sleeping on the street, and the smell of booze emanating from him makes that assumption very likely. You briefly wonder if he even works for you and decide that if so, he needs to be disciplined for his appearance.

However, you are interrupted by his next sentence.

"I just need to pick up all that garbage here. You could help, sir, that would make it quicker."

What? This filthy old drunkard dares to ask you for help? The audacity!

"Out of my way!" you repeat and push the old man aside. You are now standing directly in front of the revolving door, ready to enter your company's building. Behind you, you can hear the old man mumbling something and then start cackling, like a maniac.

You shrug it off. The man is lucky you don't have time for that right now, as you carefully navigate through the scattered items on the ground. You need to be extra careful not to ruin your thousand dollar shoes or dress pants by stepping into something sticky and foul-smelling.

Even if you weren't in a hurry, there's no way Jameson Pierce would bend down to pick up garbage. You are reasonably proud to have never touched anything that has been in a bin - that's what employees are for, not managers like you.

The board meeting continues as bad as the day had started. It is way too warm in the meeting room and you can't prevent a single drop of sweat forming on your forehead. Of course, you wipe it away with your silk handkerchief and hope nobody has noticed, but that's not the only thing going wrong. Twice in your report, you find yourself at a loss of words. Instead of using the correct technical term, you have to verbally set back half a sentence and explain what you mean in simpler words. How very, very embarrassing.

It comes as no surprise that, when the meeting is finally over, you are in a particularly bad mood. Sadly, the old man from before has left, otherwise you would have fired him on the spot as a therapeutic action.

On the way to your car, you call your secretary to cancel all further appointments today, but as you try to ring the number, you just get the message that no connection could be made.

Just great. So, your office phone system has broken down as well. Angrily, you get in your car to drive over to your office yourself.

You don't get very far. Halfway on the way to your office, there is a grinding noise from the engine and then, your car just stops. Right in the middle of the street. You almost can't believe your bad luck. Angrily, you hit the steering wheel, sounding the horn in the process, but it's no use. Trying to ignore the honking from outside and the rude gestures of drivers finding their way around you, you reach into your pocket to call the car dealership. Luckily, you're well covered for such situations.

You stare blankly at the device in your hand. This isn't your cell phone. Instead of the brand new current flagship model with the big Pineapple on the back, you are looking at the cheap plastic of a no-name device with a cracked screen that is probably ten years old.

"What the...?"

You frantically search all of your pockets, but they are all empty.

You can't help but feel as if you have gone insane. No, there has to be a rational explanation. You have probably just pocketed the wrong phone when you were at the board meeting. Of course, there are immediately nagging voices in your mind that remind you that you had tried to call your office just before getting in the car, or that surely nobody at the board meeting would have such a phone, but you decide to tune them out.

Your office is now only two blocks away. There, you have your tablet with all of your contacts. You can call the car dealership to care for the car and then just end this horrible day.

You get out of the car and ignore the shouting from the other drivers. A line of cars has formed behind your expensive Mercedes, but you ignore that as well and begin to walk. Two blocks don’t sound too bad, but it is a hot day, and you feel uncomfortable quickly. You have to loosen your tie because it feels constricting around your neck. That's not the only piece of clothing feeling wrong. Your step feels heavier, and you have to scratch yourself multiple times, trying to readjust the expensive Italian dress shirt, which is suddenly not sitting right.

Finally, you arrive at your office building. You don't even want to look down on yourself. You can feel your shirt clinging to your body and you feel disgusted by your appearance. Good thing this will all be over soon.

As you approach the elevator, you notice that you don't have your wallet at the ready - you must have forgotten it at the car. Ignoring the fact that you just now have realized the lack of its weight and the fact that you never leave your wallet in your car, you go to the reception for an elevator.

The receptionist, a perfectly styled young woman, watches as you approach and smiles.

"Hello Sir, what can I do for you today?"

"An elevator to my office." you say, adding a "Please." although you don't really feel like it.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but what exactly is your office?"

You look at the receptionist dumbfounded.

"My office." You repeat slower now.

"I don't know you sir, you need to be more specific." The young woman smiles.

That's it.

"What do you mean you don't know me?!" You shout. "I own this fucking place. It is me, Jameson Pierce! Now call me an elevator and then pack your things, you are fired!"

The receptionist looks at you as if she was dealing with a madman.

"Sir, you are not in the company register and I'm sorry, but if you don't leave the premises immediately, I'll call security."

"What are you talking about? I have an office on the 50th floor, which is where I need to go!"

"You can't have an office there, sir, that is the executive offices. Now, please leave."

"Listen, girl." you lean closer, invading her space. "Call. Me. An. Elevator. Or else."

The young woman doesn't even flinch. She presses the intercom and speaks with a steady voice: "Security, there is a madman in the lobby. Please come and remove him."

"You little...", you start, but the young woman is done talking to you. Instead, she turns away and starts to file her nails, waiting for security, which arrives some seconds later.

"Good!" You address the bulky Black man in the dark security uniform. "Could you please tell the girl that I have an office on the top floor."

"I don't think so." the man replies, "But I can show you the exit. Follow me, Sir."

"No. I am the CEO. I own the company! My father James Pierce gave it to me!"

The security guard shrugs his shoulders and takes hold of your arm.

"As far as I know, Mr. Pierce has no children. Leave the premises, Sir."

"But... you can't treat me like that! Do you know who I am?"

The Black man doesn't reply, instead, he begins dragging you towards the door. Unsurprisingly, he is much stronger than you, and your expensive shoes drag over the marble tiles.

"You can't do this!" You yell. "I will sue the company! You will all lose your jobs, just watch!"

"Whatever you say, Sir." The man pushes you outside the building. You stumble a little and then turn around, but the door is already closing.

"Fuck you!" You shout after the guard.

You take a deep breath. Whatever is going on here, it's not good. What to do.

After some consideration, you decide to grab your wallet from your car and take a cab home. There, you will deal with all of this.

As you arrive at your car again, you come just in time to see it being towed away. All running behind it and shouting does not help. You almost cry as you see the towing truck disappear around a corner, along with your car, your wallet and everything else you left in there. As you turn around to leave the scene and walk home, the next disaster is already waiting for you. There is a muddy sinkhole in the sidewalk, left over from some construction work and you don't notice it until it's too late. The next moment, you find your right leg standing in stinking mud all up to your knee. You try to free your leg, of course, and it works, sort of. With a smacking noise, the mud swallows your right shoe whole and leaves you with one dirty sock.

This day can't possibly get any worse, you think, but you are wrong.

Half an hour later, you have to admit that you got lost entirely. You are in a part of the city you have not been in before. Usually, you navigate the city with your cars GPS, but that is not available. You try to use the cheap phone to find out where you are (stoically ignoring the fact that it unlocks just fine with your fingerprint) but the only thing you find is that whoever owns the device has not paid for mobile data. You are offline. You could, of course, ask someone, but it takes some courage to ask a stranger where you are, especially in your current state.

Finally, you realize that you have to ask someone if you want to get home anytime soon. Right now, you find yourself in front of a landfill, which is both a blessing and a curse. It smells absolutely disgusting, but at least the people working here should have a good idea on how you can get home.

You enter the building with the grimy walls and look around.

"Hello?", you ask into the empty room. You are just about to leave again, when a burly man comes from the back. He is at least a head taller than you and twice as broad. His clothing is dirty, and you can see tufts of body hair coming out the top of his shirt and his armpits. Absolutely revolting.

The man looks at you for a second before shrugging his shoulder.

"Whatever." he says. "What's your name, kid?"

Needless to say, you are confused. "I am Jameson Pierce. Could you please..."

However, the big man interrupts you again. "Fancy name. I'll call you Jerry, okay? Come with me, I'll show you around."

"Wh-what do you mean?", you stutter but follow the man automatically.

"You're the new hire, aren't you? Gotta say, you're pretty scrawny, Jerry. But the job has no requirements, so if you don't mind getting your hands dirty, you're gonna fit in fine. Here are the lockers. The name's Hank, by the way."

You look around. You are in a room with a dozen dirty lockers. There is a foul stench everywhere and you have to suppress the urge to gag.

"No, I'm not new here. And I don't want to work here, or get my hands dirty!" you protest, but Hank ignores your lamenting.

"It's not gonna be easy finding an overall in your size, but we have a few small ones here as well. By the way, the overalls are shared with the other boys, hope you don't mind. Ah here. Try this one."

Hank throws you an overall. It is, in theory, blue, but both your nose as well as your eyes tell you one thing: It is entirely unwashed. For days, possibly for weeks. The clothing reeks of sweat, dirt, piss and probably even more things that you don't even want to know about.

"What's wrong with you? I am not gonna wear that."

"Well, what did you think when you came here?" Hank is clearly amused. "You can't work in these clothes of yours, even if they are dirty enough. Come on, strip, while I look for boots."

"I won't do that." you say. However, Hank is already gone. You don't think about it too much and begin to take off your expensive clothes. It is almost painful, but for some reason you... have to? It's a difficult to describe feeling. The dirty blue overall is sitting next to you on the locker room bench and is almost inviting you. You can't help it. You just have to strip. Soon, you stand in the dirty locker room clad in only your silk boxer shorts. You didn't notice that every piece of clothing you have taken off somehow changed. Your expensive dress shirt became a cheap t-shirt with stains on it. Your pants turned into a pair of ripped jeans and your golden wrist watch just... vanished.

"If I were you, I would be going commando." Hank, who had returned with a pair of work boots you can smell from over there, comments. "You're going to move around a lot. Besides, all the boys are doing it.

You look at the overall again, almost gagging now. Some other guys have worn it, rubbing their bare asses and dicks into the fabric. And Hank expects you to do the same. Suddenly, you remember the smell. Sweat, piss and other smells. You shudder. You shudder in... anticipation? As you automatically lower your boxer shorts (who turn into plain cotton briefs as you do), you can feel yourself growing hard at the thought of stepping into this dirty overall. At the same time, you are disgusted beyond measure.

Still, it's almost like your arms are on auto-pilot as you step into the overall and pull it up around your naked body, until the disgusting smell envelops you.

"Glad you like it." Hank grins and playfully grabs your very obvious erection through the dirty fabric. "You might want to meet up with some of the boys here in the locker room after shift, I hear some of them need to release some steam after a good shift. Now, come on. Pull the boots and get moving, we don't have time to waste."

You stare blankly at the big man as you realize what he just said.

"Wait." you stutter. "You think... You think I'm..."

"You're gay." Hank interrupts. "No worries. A lot of the boys are."

You can't believe what he's saying. Gay? You?

"But I am not!"

Hank doesn't even seem surprised.

"You might want to tell that to your hard cock. Anyway. Boots."

He tosses the dirty boots in front of you, and you find yourself bending down to pull them up. They are a little bit too large and feel like they are made of rubber, not leather. As soon as you have both of them on, Hank nods approvingly and then grabs you by the arm, pulling you out of the locker room and towards the garbage truck.

The next few hours pass quickly. The other men (it seems the job has exclusively male company) are friendly but don't go easy on the "newcomer". Everybody calls you Jerry and you have to do the most disgusting work you have ever done: Hauling full bins to the truck, sorting through garbage, cleaning up spilled garbage from the streets. Still, nobody is complaining and so you don't, either. After all, there are more pressing concerns: You feel dirty, your whole body is covered in a thick layer of sweat and dust. Your hands are filthy, and so is your face. And the worst part of it all is: A part of you is enjoying it, a lot. At first, the part is strictly physical. You have a boner pretty much the whole time, and whenever you need to do something especially disgusting, it visibly and violently throbs against your work pants - a fact that doesn't escape the rest of the boys.

After a while, though, more changes set in. The full bins appear to become lighter and easier to move. Of course, that isn't the case: Your muscles grow in front of your eyes, and the overall, that was a bit too big, fits better and better. Hair starts to grow on your chest, your legs and arms, and stubble forms in your face. Your carefully maintained hairstyle dissolves into an unkempt mess on your head.

But the changes don't stop there. Overall, you feel like you are getting more and more youthful. You weren't terribly old to begin with, in your mid-thirties, but a strange energy makes you feel more like end-twenties, mid-twenties and finally, like a man who just turned 21.

At the same time, however, your personality changes as well. You start to talk less and less, and when you do, the words aren't quite as sharp as before. Your education slips away with every word you say, and your vocabulary is replaced by slang, often with a bit of swearing. It becomes more and more difficult to think, too. The boys quickly pick up on this and joke around you not being the sharpest. It's not that they're wrong. You're dumb, if you're being honest. School wasn't for you, so you dropped out at some point. Bit by bit, you really become Jerry, the dumb, sweaty, smelly garbageman. And Jerry, unlike Jameson, enjoys the dirt around him. You can hardly remember being a clean and smart businessman, and that's alright with you. Even though your thoughts are slower, however, the memories of your former self are not gone entirely. Every once in a while, you remember who you used to be. But at the latest when the shift ends and you and the rest of the horny boys are going to the locker room, you decide that this is, indeed, a simpler and a better life.

There is literally a metric ton of more pictures here, in my tip jar - variations of Jerry at the end. If you like my writing, consider joining the riot page for a tip (and ocassional additional pictures)

[susan-exactink]

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[binbidet]

How Trashcan Cleaning Services Can Be Environmentally Friendly

It can be difficult for a cleaning company to proclaim itself to be environmentally friendly. Cleaning chemicals are often associated with detrimental effects on the environment. 

But, trashcan cleaning by its nature is beneficial for the environment, with its minimizing effect on the environmental impact of waste from humans.

Plus, a reputable trashcan cleaning company can minimize potential cleaning drawbacks by focusing on environmentally-friendly practices.

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Cleaning your bins at home often involves using large amounts of water. 

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Regular cleaning by a professional service helps keep these pests away.

Preserving Natural Habitats: Pests attracted to trash cans often rely on this waste for food, which disrupts their natural habits and can lead to overpopulation in urban areas.

Healthier Animals: When animals eat trash, they consume harmful substances that can affect their health. Keeping your trash cans clean ensures that animals remain in their natural habitats, finding food sources that are better suited for their diets.

3. Using Heat Over Harmful Chemicals

Many people use harsh chemicals to clean their trash cans, which can be harmful to the environment.

A responsible trashcan cleaning service utilizes heat to disinfect and clean bins, with water that can reach temperatures of 200 degrees Fahrenheit.

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When cleaning bins at home, the dirty water often ends up in your lawn or sewer system, which can have detrimental effects on the local environment.

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[lonestarbincleaners]

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[rileyslibrary]

This is a short Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader fic for @lauraliisa and @pasta-m1lk who requested a part 2 of the Hot Seat fic. I won’t be making a part 3 for this; I prefer to leave the rest to your imagination (sometimes I, too, like to torment the ones I love 😈) The fic is SFW, I promise.

Yesterday at the morning debrief, he was back to his usual self, dressed in his military uniform, with his signature skull balaclava, tactical boots and gloves. He eyed each of you independently and gave orders for the day’s duties.

Toilets. That was your day’s duty. Cleaning the fucking toilets.

And as if that wasn’t enough to torment you, he turned in front of everyone and yelled your name.

“Y/N,” he said, “will be quite tired after cleaning duty, don’t you all think?” to which everyone replied with the “sir, yes, sir,” including yourself.

“To thank her for her service,” he continued, “she’ll receive an exceptional deep tissue massage treatment after she fulfils her duties,” and added a “lucky her.”

Soap was standing behind you. “What the fuck did you do this time,” he whispered, and you discreetly asked him what a deep tissue massage meant. He smirked and said, “you’re about to find out.”

Under normal circumstances, a deep tissue massage would have been revitalising with the occasional “good hurt”.

This “deep tissue” massage was like a compact hell week; there was no relief from pained muscles, and full of “bad hurts.”

He made you run 8km with your bergen, do a fuckton of reps consisting of press-ups, burpees and sit-ups, then wash, rinse and repeat.

“Again.” He ordered, and you obeyed.

“Again.” He commanded, and you did as you were told.

“Again.” He said one last time, and you warned him that you were about to throw up, to which he replied with a simple “good.”

He might have thought you were over-exaggerating, but you couldn’t hold it anymore. You stood up with all the power you had left, ran to the nearest trash bin, dipped yourself halfway in, and began to gag. The smell of rotten food didn’t help.

You didn’t hear him approaching, but you felt his glove brushing the stray hairs off your forehead, his other hand gently patting your back.

He didn’t speak until you wiped your mouth with your hand.

“Better?” He asked.

“I didn’t mean to make a fool out of you, sir,” you explained in between gasps, “on the contrary, I was trying to be,” you got another gasp, “discreet, sir.”

He kept stroking your hair and back until you were finished talking. He then helped you up and held you by the shoulders.

“Seems like you’re not well, soldier,” he said in a low voice, “I would suggest requesting a sick leave.”

You were covered in sweat, your hair all messed up, you smelled like a trashcan, and your body ached in places you never knew existed. But you stared at Ghost, dumbfounded. This could have easily been a trap.

“I’m not si-“

“I’ll give you tomorrow off,” he stopped you, “how’s that?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he squeezed your shoulders and shot you a meaningful look. He kept nodding, signalling for you to answer in the same manner.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, looking at him hesitantly.

He patted your shoulder. “Good,” he said, “now, what are you up to tomorrow?”

Your mouth dropped to the floor. “I, um, I’ll be home, I guess, sir.”

“So,” he tilted his head, “no plans for tomorrow?”

“N-no.” You replied, still in disbelief.

“Huh, what a coincidence,” he said, putting his hand on his hips, “I’m on leave tomorrow as well.”

“C-cool…” You muttered. What the fuck was he up to.

“Would you like to go for a coffee tomorrow morning?” He asked, “or tea, in your case, because,” he gestured at the miserable state he brought you in, “you know, you’re sick.”

You kept staring at each other. You couldn’t see Simon’s expression, but you looked like someone picked you up with a giant claw and dropped you right in the middle of a David Lynch movie.

“Should I take your silence as a- “

“Yes,” you nodded vigorously, “as a yes, sir; you can take it as a yes.”

He came this morning with his motorcycle and picked you up; he brought an extra helmet for you and secured it on your head.

He drove you to a café close to the pub you first saw and identified him without his mask, the reason behind all that hazing you’ve been through. The reason why you’re both here now.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you tell him.

“Why not?” He asks, “you’re sick and on leave.”

“I’m not sick,” you whisper with a smile, “and neither are you.”

He shrugs. “Oh, but I am sick,” he opposes you, “sick and tired of serving and ordering and,” he looks around, “killing.” He whispers.

You nod empathetically. He diverts his gaze from you and looks at the street, almost embarrassed for admitting it. You think of his mask; he doesn’t wear it to cover his good looks as you first thought. Ghost is a persona for the battlefield—for serving and ordering and killing. This, right here, sitting in front of you, is Simon.

“Hey,” you snap your fingers to distract him from his thoughts, “you promised me coffee.”

“Tea,” he corrects you, and you shake your head.

“I hate tea.” You say.

He shoots you a death stare and looks up at the sky.

“Why?” he wonders out loud and smiles, “why didn’t I ask you about that before taking you out on a date?” And gestures at the waiter to come and take your order.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

what is our role in hermitcraft? Are we citizens? Are we the creatures that manipulate scar’s theme park’s inner workings, lifting the lights, playing the mascots, selling the merchandise, leading the parades? Do we run pearl’s trash shop, chasing the chickens out of the bins with brooms and waving pamphlets advertising her cleaning service around? Are we the guards and servants and scribes of the Kings’ castle? The nobles even? Are we spirits that inhabit cleo’s armor stands, giving them life? Are we a separate channel doc tunes into instead of the hivemind? What even is the hivemind?

Are we dwarven workers in Impulse's mine? Do we help feed and care for the ravagers deep in the dungeon? Are we visitors to Scarland? Librarians in the nether hub? Do we run the stores in the shopping district? Or are we all of that and more?

-Mod Mleem

[skyfacilitymanagement]

Corporate Office Cleaning Services | Sky Facility Management | Sky Facility Management

When you run a business, you have a lot of different responsibilities and tasks to keep up with. One of those responsibilities is the cleanliness of your office or commercial property. Hiring professional cleaners to handle this task frees you up to focus on other business needs while knowing that your office is being cleaned and disinfected. Cleaning services can range from regular, daily housekeeping to deep, intensive disinfection. Regardless of the type of cleaning needed, it’s important to compare prices and choose a company that can meet your requirements.

The cleanliness of your workplace is crucial for the health of your employees and customers. A dirty environment is an ideal breeding ground for germs, bacteria, and insects. It can also lead to lower productivity. According to studies, people who work in clean environments are 15% more productive than those working in cluttered spaces.

It’s also a great way to make an excellent first impression on visitors. A clean and tidy workspace feels welcoming and hospitable. This can help you build a better relationship with your clients and attract more new business.

A clean workspace can improve indoor air quality, which translates to fewer sick days among your employees. In addition, it can reduce the number of pests in your office, which means a healthier place for everyone to work.

In addition to cleaning, a commercial cleaning service can also declutter and organize your office. This can help you create more storage space and find items that may be hidden or lost in a cluttered room. They can also help you create a more efficient workflow in your office by streamlining the flow of items throughout your building.

Many companies offer janitorial and office cleaning services. They can provide everything from mopping and vacuuming to sanitizing bathrooms and power-washing floors. Some of these companies can even provide trash removal, carpet cleaning, and window washing services as well. They can also help you save money by supplying cleaning supplies and offering discounts on those purchases.

Most janitorial and cleaning services offer regular maintenance, such as dusting and mopping, as well as deep cleaning services that include everything from sanitizing sinks and toilets to duct cleaning and shampooing carpets. Some of them also offer ad-hoc cleaning services, such as end-of-tenancy cleaning, graffiti removal, and after-building works cleaning.

When selecting a cleaning service, look for one with a proven track record of providing high-quality results. It is also important to find a company with insurance and bonding. This will protect you in case an accident occurs during the cleaning process. A good cleaning company should also have a wide range of equipment, such as dusters, brooms with wringers, cleaning buckets, sponges, and more. In addition, they should have a valid license and certification to perform cleaning services. In addition, they should have liability and workers’ compensation coverage. This is necessary to protect you in case any of their employees get injured while they are on the job.