#pig house design

[farmerstrend]

Best Practices for Pig Farm Setup: Housing and Infrastructure

Proper housing and infrastructure are fundamental to the success and well-being of pig farming operations in Kenya. Creating a suitable environment for your pigs not only ensures their health and productivity but also contributes to the overall efficiency and profitability of your farm. In this article, we will explore the best practices for housing and infrastructure when setting up a pig farm…

[mbrainspaz]

I've messaged my new landlord 3 times in the past week to ask him what day the trash pick up service is and every time he totally ignored the question.

I'm about to text him, "I'm sorry, is the trash day a secret?"

Can't believe I've finally met the average man with a 6th grade reading level all the web design seminars warned me about.

[flufflecat]

A few of my favorite lps from my collection (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ

[amazingarchitecturewebsite]

PIG House in Hangzhou, #China by Li Wenqiang / PIG DESIGN

[wizard-email]

I don't want to add god's longest addition to the would you survive an apocalypse?' poll, but I do actually have an absolutely fallproof plan for the zombie apocalypse. It doesn’t matter what kind of zombies there are & it has exactly (2) steps:

1. Drive to the nearest National Trust proparty

2. win

This is the result of a very lengthy (and completely serious) discussion with my sister so let me break it down for you.

Benefit 1: EVERYTHING'S THERE

For those of you who don't live in the UK (or don't have parents with exactly 1 idea for a family trip ever), all National Trust proparties are broadly speaking exactly the same.

There's a big rich person's house & the courtyard is always converted into a little picnic area containing a combination gift shop/booking desk; a cafe and a secondhand bookshop. The gift shop has like a 60% chances to contain basic gardening tools and a little section for seeds & bulbs.

I won't list their standardised cafe menu (that I do in fact have memorised), but it's pretty good & more importantly most of it is made or at least finished on site. If they rationed, a small group could live off National Trust cornish pasties, scones & gift shop fudge for a month or two I think <3

Here's a list of things that are might be there but aren't 100% guaranteed:

- Kitchen garden

- Fish pond

- Livestock (usually chickens, sometimes pigs or bees)

- Medieval armour (fuck ya'll with guns but I would take a pike over having to worry about ammunition any day)

- Horses and functioning stable

- Forests cultivated for the purpose of deer hunting

John McRichman's gun/archery collection

- Lake

Benefit 2: FUCKING!! CASTLE!!

??? Where do I start???

1. These things are so easy to defend it's laughable.

I'm sure we all know about spiral staircases being designed to maximise cover for a right handed person during sieges but it's more than that ??? 18th century rich people loved to make their estates look as big, impressive & isolated as possible & they did this by surrounded their houses on all sides with several hundred metres of flat, open grass with thick trees on the edges to block out the horizon.

- Nothing can see you

- No loud noises will be within earshot of anything close to civilisation

- Any zombies that DO somehow show up can be picked off at a distance whether they know how to run or not

- Litterally there are so many little towers & secret rooms & shit how do you even manage to fuck up enough to die here like I would actually be impressed

- ALSO the edge of the estate is usually also walled off and/or fenced & gated, so there's no chance of anything wandering in by accident

2. All the older infrastructure is designed pre-electricity so you'll still be able to have a shower when the power grid inevitably explodes or something

3. You get to sleep in one of those huge 4-poster beds with all the fun embroidery and silk pillows

4. Idk the massive lawn can be converted into a farm if the apocalypse goes on long enough

Genuinely I think my quality of life would actually improve?? and that's just with what's already there - if there was time to pick up some supplies beforehand me & my buddies would just be hanging out. literally what apocalypse im eating scones xoxo

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Been thinking about Puss in Boots: The Last Wish and what makes Death the Wolf such an effective villain, and like… character design and voice acting is certainly doing a lot there, don't get me wrong, but I think there's something else at play.

Death is the most terrifying character in Puss in Boots, because he's the only one playing the genre straight.

The premise of the Shrek films has always been that they're normal, modern people living in wacky fairytale land.

The evil king uses his magic mirror as a dating app. The fairy godmother uses business cards to contact her clients. Her workers consider unionising over their lack of dental plan.

Puss in Boots 1 kinda broke the mould in that— while there are plenty of modern elements to how the characters act and how their world works— it's more specifically intended to be characters from the world Zorro living in wacky fairytale land. But the point still stands.

The aim of the Shrek films and spin-offs is to subvert common fairytale tropes for comedic effect. What if the princess fell for the ogre? What if Prince Charming was an entitled dick? What if Goldilocks teamed up with the three bears and started a crime family?

But Death? Death, for the most part, isn't playing that game.

No character questions why he doesn't just kill Puss outright. There are no gags about him being inconvenienced by Jack Horner losing so many men. Nobody makes any self-aware fourth wall breaking jokes about why he bothers with the whole whistling thing.

We all know why he does the whistling thing. It's the same reason why Little Red Riding Hood has to go through the whole "what big eyes/ears/teeth you have, Grandma" rigamarole. The same reason why the wolf takes care to knock before blowing the little pigs' houses down.

The Wolf is scary because he's the only actual fairytale creature in this entire setting. He's not bound by rules of logic or common sense, or his own will, he's bound by the narrative.

And that's also why he backs down at the end.

The first time he and Puss fight, in the bar, Puss is arrogant. The second time, in the Cave, Puss is scared out of his wits. It's the third time, on the wishing star, that Puss learns his lesson. Of course the Wolf backs down after that! The rules say he has to.

But, on another level, there is also the issue of Puss realising that he wants more from his life than just to be a legend.

They say "legends never die", but the most famous part of any given legend tends to be the story of how the hero finally bites the dust.

And "he was such a great fighter that Death himself had to kill him off, personally!" is just the sort of ending that would fit the legend Puss has constructed around himself. In a sense, the Wolf is giving Puss exactly what he proclaims to want— the chance to go down in history.

Puss realising he doesn't want that anymore is the catalyst for sending the Wolf away. Through his own egotistical and reckless attitude, he turned himself into a story and thus summoned a narrative device. Only by choosing to value his life over the legend is he able to escape that trap.

The Wolf's defeat is both the natural ending of the story that he and Puss have been playing out since the film began, and a rejection of the natural ending to the story Puss has been telling about himself since he first became the hero of San Ricardo.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#383

“Hello, you must be the asseater….  After you pick up your jaw from the floor, c’mon in.  I usually get that result from fag asseaters.  When I’m at home, I don’t wear clothing.  Shut up.  I don’t need to know your name.  I ain’t going to carry on much of a conversation with you.  Besides, your tongue is going to be doing something else worthwhile.

“Follow me in here.  I have my rim chair set up and my porn ready to go.  I had it specially made for my size and my needs.  Seeing that you are going to be under me for hours, I’m gonna let you use the platform to elevate your torso to the right height. 

“What the fuck are you doing?  Nobody told you to strip.  I have zero interest in your naked body, and you certainly won’t be jacking off in my house.  You answered my ad on that fag site looking for an asseater who will eat my hairy crack for hours.  The only reason why I use faggots is that women don’t eat ass, and if they do, they don’t know how to do it right, let alone for hours at a time.  You faggots are willing to do it all.  I don’t have to buy you flowers or take you to dinner.  No, my fat ass is your dinner.

“Get under it.  You’ll see this contraption is made for long term shithole worship.  That netting is where your head goes.  The designer called it a head hammock.  It supports your head as it keeps your face firmly in my crack, angling it to allow the deepest penetration from your tongue.

“This is my favorite part of this chair.  When I sit down, my weight pushes down on this chin guard which goes below your chin prohibiting you from pulling out.  The only way you get out is when I get up.  If I lock it in place, then you ain’t getting out. 

“You get the picture?  You mean nothing to me other than your tongue slurping on my shithole and cleaning my crack for hours at a time.

“You drink piss?  My full time asseater I had in Cleveland drank my piss; he begged me to give it to him.  There’s no way in hell that I’m going to stick my dick in any faggot, so I used a funnel on him.  If you want my piss, I can have a funnel nearby.  He was a total pig.  I assume you are too.

“Look up at my ass.  This is what you are going to worship the next few hours.  I worked out in the yard this morning, then I went to the gym.  It’s going to be rank in there.  And even though I wiped this morning, being as hairy as I am, I’ll probably have some dingleberries for you.  And should I fart, consider that me blowing you a kiss. 

“You ready to be what you were meant to be?  You do a good job, when I blow my load in my hand, I’ll wipe it on my asshole and have you lick it off…. 

“That got a smile out of you.  Now stick out that tongue as far as you can.  I need to have a seat….

“…Don’t start gagging.  You are going to be down there for hours, you get used to it.  Now stick your tongue in deep.  Like thaaaaat.  Fuuuuck.  Oh man.  Fuck yeah faggot.  Fuck yeah….

“I don’t understand why more men don’t use faggots like you like this.  But hey their loss is my gain.” 

[livwritessometimes]

F1 Uni Series: Intro Part 2

: Now that you know about ‘The Grid.’ Let us take a look at the other group in this series.

: All these people were randomly assigned to the same guide on the first day of Uni and ya rest is history

: Prev | Next

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

Y/n L/n

• Y/n L/n, claims to be the best thing that has every happened to F1 University

• Struggles to pay rent which is why she lives with Alex and Dylan (even though she has money to support her daily coffee obsession)

• Friends with Daniel and Pierre (she feels that Daniel is her spirit animal and she just tolerates Pierre)

Alexandra Saint Mleux

• Alexandra Saint Mleux, the classy Art History Major

• For her friends she is Alex, the kid who almost burned down her (Y/n and Dylan’s) apartment while trying to make popcorn

• She believes that she can read auras just because she went to a carnival as a kid and a psychic told her that she has ‘the gift’

Dylan O'Brien

• Dylan O’Brien, thinks he’s the only voice of reason in the group (he’s not)

• Likes to scare people by claiming he can hear voices in his head (Psychology major does that to a person)

• Had the fattest crush on peppa pig growing up (even though bacon is his favourite thing to eat)

Renee Rapp

• Renee Rapp, the actual voice of reason of this group (Mother in other words)

• As a kid she realised 2 things while watching Judge Judy: first she wants to be a lawyer and second that her love for Judy was more than just admiration

• Likes to believe that the rest of her group won’t be alive without her there (it’s true)

Chris Briney

• Christopher Briney, the clumsy nurse studying at F1 University

• Most of the time he has to use his knowledge on himself (boy trips on air istg)

• Has an apartment with Jordan but doesn’t know that it’s haunted

Francisca Cerqueira Gomez

• Francisca Cerqueira Gomez or Kika

• Her dream is to live like a rich soccer mom who drinks vodka from a flask during the game

• Believes she’s the next best fashion designer (she is) also has a secret beef with Lewis because they both want to have their collection win the end term runway project

Jordan Fisher

• Jordan Fisher, son of a famous businessman

• His dad wanted him to pursue business but Jordan was like nah and went for music instead

• He drowned as a child and his heart stopped for like 2 seconds and ever since then he claims that he can “see ghosts.” He also didn’t tell Chris (his roommate) that their house is haunted

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen

[papipedroo]

Newcomer (Joel Miller x Reader)

Part Two of Whiskey Tears.

Rated: Angst | Violence | Fluff | Suggestive | Age Gap | Mentions of Assault | Language

Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have been a trio from the start. You were a family, but you find your relationship with Joel withering when he starts to pull away. Now a new comer makes her way into Jackson and into Joel’s heart…

You were the first one up. It has always been that way with your quiet steps and peaceful mornings filled with silence.

Your favorite part of your new home was your kitchen free from broken cabinets and rusted faucets. Curtesy to Joel of course. It wasn’t terribly warn down when we first moved in, some dusty bedding, peeled wallpaper throughout the house, but the kitchen had it worse. You mentioned it once to Joel, wondering how the two of you could bring this kitchen to life. A place where you felt most at peace. You were contempt with what you had of course, working around it as you cooked for your family.

Until one day you walked into your house to find Joel replacing them with ones the he had carved and pieced together himself.

You remember crying and him telling you not to. But how could you not? When the man you hopelessly love does something like that for you?

Joel only knew how to bqq something and Ellie was too impatient to follow directions and so since the beginning you were the designated cook and you were proud of it too.

So to find someone in your kitchen banging your precious cabinets and disrupting the system you had made… Well your ears were practically turn red and you swore if anyone would look close enough there would be steam coming out.

But you were an adult person and an adult handles everything with a sense of calm… Right?

���I’m sorry but what are you doing?” You asked as you stood in front of the island counter to keep yourself from pouncing on her.

Heather turned around with a startled jump, “Oh! Good morning! Don’t mind me, I’m just making breakfast.”

“Breakfast is my thing. Cooking for my family is my thing.” You stated clearly with a sense of calm.

I think Joel would be impressed that I haven’t stabbed this lady yet. I’m being an adult. That’s what he wanted right?

“Well I think I can handle the cooking today. It’s the least I can do.” She stated with an edge to her tone.

Stay calm. Be an adult.

You took in a sharp breath and smile, “Being as you are a guest in my home, the least you can do is take a seat and let me cook in my kitchen.”

You watched the way she dug her nails into her skin before giving you a sharp nod, “Alright. Then cook.”

“Gladly.” You muttered before making yourself at home and cooking Joel and Ellie’s favorites.

Pancakes for Ellie and scrambled eggs with deer bacon for Joel. You didn’t have pigs for regular bacon and so this was the next best thing in the apocalypse, that and Joel’s famous deer jerky.

You easily fell into your routine, humming a tune that you created for Ellie one night when she was scared. You didn’t care how Heather sat at the island and watched you like a hawk. You did what you did best. You provided for your family.

While the last bits of deer bacon was frying, you started on making the coffee before set the table with the plates and food already prepared. You also made sure to add an extra plate even if you didn’t want to.

But you were going to prove to Joel that you were an adult.

The last item left in the kitchen was the deer bacon and as you piled it on a plate you heard Joel’s drawl muttering a good morning and Ellie’s loud yawn in the dining room.

You smiled and filled a mug of coffee for Joel, holding it in one hand while you held the plate of deer bacon in the other.

“You made this?” Joel asked looking at Heather.

“I did! I wasn’t sure what you usually eat for breakfast so I asked your other daughter and she told me pancakes, eggs, and deer bacon is the perfect morning breakfast for everyone.” Heather explained as if it actually happened, she would be convincing to anyone else… Anyone who wasn’t Ellie that is.

Ellie’s brows furrowed as she stared at the table. It was plated exactly how you would plate it for them each morning. It didn’t look new and Ellie knew that…

“She did?” Ellie finally asked skeptically.

“Yep!” Heather smiled without a hint of guilt.

The way that Heather said such a lie with ease made your blood boil as you stepped into the dining room with a glare directed towards the officially unwelcome newcomer.

“Oh! Thank you for being a dear and getting those for me, I couldn’t carry everything here on my own.” A sweet smile was planted on Heather’s face, on that made you scowl.

Who says I have to be calm to be an adult?

You took three steps to the table, standing directly between where she was sitting in your seat once again. You tossed the plate of deer bacon down in front of Joel with a thud before slamming your hand down resonating a loud smack against the wood, coffee mug held tightly in the other hand.

“What the hell.” Joel exasperated at watching you loose your temper.

You didn’t care about Joel’s opinion of you. Not right now and not with this conniving witch in front of you. Your fury was centered around the horrid lies spilling out of the temptress mouth.

“First of all, I am Not his daughter.” I seethed lowly, “Second. You better tell them the truth before I cram these pieces of deer bacon that I cooked not you, down your throat you lying piece of—”

“Enough!” Joel’s voice boomed causing you to steady your hand to keep from spilling his coffee.

Your heater gaze quickly flickered to Joel who seemed angry, but not at the person you thought he would be angry with… No. his anger was directed towards you.

“Who gives a fuck who made breakfast. Will you stop causing a scene so early in the morning and just sit down?” Joel sighed.

His sigh was clearly directed towards you and you were angry that he couldn’t see whatever game Heather was trying to play.

“Are you serious? She is clearly lying to you. How are you not more pissed off about this?” You yelled.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m sorry if I caused any trouble. If it will make you feel better, I won’t make breakfast again from now on.” Heather’s voice sounded so fragile that you wanted to smother her with a pillow.

“Oh piss off!” You turned towards her, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

“Excuse me? I much older than you—” She began and you cut her off.

“Clearly.” You scoffed.

“Dear I’m just trying to help. Maybe your too young to understand that respecting your elders is important so please— Ouch!” She yelled out in pain.

It all happened so fast. One minute she was talking and the next second you felt a sharp pain in your ankle causing you to spill Joel’s coffee on her arm.

Ellie’s eyes widened, “Shit.”

“Are you kidding me right now!” Joel’s voice boomed as got up from his chair.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say and apparently Joel didn’t want to hear it because he roughly shoved you out of the way to check on Heather.

His shoved made you spill the rest of the coffee over your hands causing you to hiss out in pain.

“Are you okay?” Ellie quickly jumped out of her seat to check on me.

“Yes… Yes. I’m fine. I— I don’t know what happened.” You said quickly as Ellie took the cup from you, “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I’m going to go get some ice.” She said as she quickly rushed off into the kitchen.

“Ow! Ow ow ow. It hurts Joel.” Heather had tears in her eyes and he cleaned off her arm with a towel.

“I’m sorry… I really didn’t.” You weren’t even sure why you were apologizing, but you felt that Joel would be even more pissed at you if your didn’t.

“You— I can’t believe you— you reckless over excessive little girl.” Joel seethed at you, “Did you know she was constantly burned by the raiders that held her hostage? No. Of course you fucking didn’t.”

Ellie stepped in at the moment with ice wrapped in a towel. Joel took it out of her hands and motioned to the door.

“Tommy’s waiting for you by the barn to talk you about your new job Ellie.” Joel grunted yet his glare never left your face, “You should go.”

Ellie looked over to you in concern, “But—”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, go. I’m fine. I promise.”

Ellie left soon after and an unnerving silence between you and Joel filled the air. Your hands welre turning red because the ice that you needed was currently being used for Heather’s arm. You felt too ashamed to get another one and too scared to wonder if she had actually kicked you.

You watched Joel, an aching feeling settling in your chest at the way he was attentive to her. The way he held her gently and asked her if her arm was still hurting while you stood behind him cradling your own wounded hands. That made tears draw to your eyes.

“Joel—” You tried to call out to him, but he didn’t want to hear any of it.

“You can’t just throw a fucking tantrum whenever you want… God… I didn’t think you were this much of a brat.” He shook his head.

That left a sharp feeling in your chest as your eyes casted down to the floor in shame.

“Leave.” Joel muttered and when you didn’t move he raised his voice, “Fucking get out of my sight right now!”

That had you running up the stairs and slamming the door to his room. Sobs wracked through your body as you slid to the floor, your blistering hands long forgot as tried to calm yourself down.

“He thinks I did all of this on purpose? How could he believe her over me? …Why won’t he believe me?” You whispered into the silence.

That sinking feeling however didn’t leave your chest. The deep hatred that you felt towards a woman you’ve barely known for two days was beginning to boil and you just knew she was up to something.

You angrily wiped away your tears and changed into some warmer clothes. You didn’t care about the puffiness under your eyes or your red nose, you could blame that on the weather. After you finished getting ready you went downstairs to leave the house and start your day at work.

It was your turn to help string up some lights anyways so that made it easier to get out of the house. You could only hope that things would change before the upcoming holiday, Winter’s Hollow. A day that everyone could celebrate.

“Where you going?” Joel’s asked from behind you.

You ignored him as you slipped in your boots.

“Your hands are red…” He continued and you turned away from him so he couldn’t see them anymore.

He let out a deep sigh, “Firefly please.”

“Don’t call me that.” You finally grumbled, “Not right now.”

“You’re hurt.” He pressed.

You looked up at him with a glare as you slipped on some gloves, “Like you care. You’re the one who did it.”

“I…” He looked directly at you, “Didn’t realize I hurt you.”

His expression was one of worry and guilt. Two emotions that were very rarely shown on Joel’s face in front of anyone except for you, Ellie, or Tommy. You almost crumbled… Almost.

“Joel!” Heather called from the dining room and his head immediately turned towards her direction.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your jacket remembering why you were leaving in the first place.

“Have fun with your new girl.” You swung the door open and left.

***

“Morning.” Maria waved you over to her.

She stood by a box of lights and a lamp post.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” She teased and usually she would get a snarky reply and a smile from you, but when you remained quiet she began to worry.

“Hey… Are you okay?” She asked and placed a hand on your arm and when you fully looked at her she knew, “You’re definitely not okay. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You tried to say, but she gave you an unimpressed look.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at you, “Something is. Your nose is red and you’ve clearly been crying.”

“It’s just the cold, I’m fine.” You tried to explain, but she wasn’t having any of it.

Maria rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “Like hell you are.”

You sighed, “Joel and I got into an argument.”

“Over what?” Maria asked.

She was concerned of course. In the three months that you and Joel have lived here she has never heard you and Joel argue.

“Heather.” You said her name as if it were poison.

“Oh…” She nodded her head slowly, now beginning to understand the story, “It’s going that bad huh?”

“He’s been taking her side over everything these past two days and he lets her kiss his cheek and I don’t… Fuck I hate it. And she lied this morning about cooking breakfast and I swear she kicked me or something. I didn’t mean to spill coffee on her and Joel got… He got so angry.” Tears welled up in your eyes, “I didn’t mean to make him angry.” You cried.

Maria pulled you into a hug and you clung to her like a lifeline. She was slowly starting to grow on you as these past couple of months passed by.

“I’m sorry, that must be so stressful.” Maria tried her best to calm you down.

“I was so worried about him when he disappeared. I couldn’t even sleep without checking the driveway every hour to see if he was walking up those damn steps and now it hasn’t even been a week and it’s like he replaced me.” You sobbed.

“I didn’t realize they were that close…” Maria’s voice trailed off. She didn’t want to loose you, you were the closest thing to a sister-in-law she’s ever had, “I’ll talk to Tommy. See if there’s a house available that she can live in. Maybe it’s just a savior complex thing and he feels like because he saved her, now he’s indebted to her or something.”

You sniffled into her shoulder, “Thanks.” Your voice was muffled in her jacket, “I don’t want to be that person, but I think she’s a real bitch.”

Maria chuckled, “Seems like Joel is too.”

You pulled away from her hug, “He said it was because of our age… That it wasn’t right to be together.”

“Well that’s bullshit otherwise he wouldn’t have been with you in the first place.” Maria scoffed.

“Do you think there’s more to what he’s telling me?” You wondered and honestly you wouldn’t put it against Joel if he was.

“It’s Joel we’re talking about, of course there is.” Maria shook her head and you watched as she reached down to grab some of the lights, “The Miller brothers are as hard to get close too. I swear there one of those endless jawbreakers.”

“Jawbreakers?” You asked her in confusion.

“It’s like a candy that you have to continuously lick until you reach the center. I’ll find one for you one day.” She said and you couldn’t help, but snicker.

“That’s quite an analogy.” Your snicker grew into a laugh and Maria joined you.

She nudged your arm, “Oh shut up and help this pregnant woman with these lights.”

“Yes ma’am.” You laughed as you reached into the box.

Maria made it easy for you to take your mind off Joel. It was as if she had a secret spell to make you forget your worries. I guess that’s what all good friends do.

“Phew!” Maria wiped her hands in her jeans as you finished hanging up a few more lights, “I think it’s about time for dinner, don’t you think?”

You nodded your head as you stepped down from the ladder, “I’m pretty sure I can eat an entire pot of stew right now.” You said causing Maria to laugh.

“Well as long as you share then I’m cool with that. Lets go.” She said and the two of you made your way to the lodge to grab some lunch.

“You know what I’m really craving?” Maria said as the two of you stepped into the small restaurant bar, “Pickles and ice cream.”

You raised an eyebrow at her in question, “Pickles and ice cream? That sounds…”

“Absolutely amazing I know.” She was practically drooling at the craving, “One day we’ll have ice cream and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.”

“Over here!” You suddenly heard Ellie yell and the two of you turned to find her, Tommy, and Joel already sitting down at a booth.

You were relieved to not see Heather with them. You don’t think you’re ready to see her coming up to Joel right now. The two of you quickly made your way over.

Before you can even say hello Maria smacked Joel on the back of his head.

“Ow…” He grumbled as he rubbed his head, “What was that for?”

“You know what.” She said before taking her designated seat beside her husband.

Tommy gave his wife a confused look to which she said, “I’ll tell you later.”

You then took your designated seat beside Joel, a small smile on your face from Maria’s protective side.

Maria sat by Tommy on one side of the booth with you by Joel with Ellie on his right, closest to the window on the other side of the booth.

“Well it took you girls long enough to get here.” Tommy joked as he wrapped an arm around Maria to warm her up, “We were waiting to surprise you both with dinner.”

“Hey the lights can’t hang themselves.” Maria replied, but fell into his embrace, “But thank you for waiting for us.”

You watched the two with longing wishing that Joel would treat you that way, but all you received was his arm pressing into yours.

“Tell them about the horses Ellie. I swear this girl is going to be a cowgirl one day.” Tommy chuckled.

“You would not believe the day I have had!” Ellie practically shouted as she launched into her story.

You listened, laughing at most parts as her story slowly became over exaggerated, but you loved every second of it.

It was halfway through her story about how she threw herself over a fence when you felt the warmth of his hand slide over yours. Your breath quickened at his touch and the way you were suddenly hyper aware of his breath hot on your ear.

“How is your hand?” He asked barely above a whisper as to not draw attention to the both of you.

“I think I’m safe from amputation.” You jokingly said to slow the way your heart was racing.

He ran his thumb along the back of your hand muttering a, “Hm..”

The moment was nice, something that you have missed deeply from him these past few months.

“Joel…” You spoke his name softly and when his attention was solely on you, you spoke up, “I—”

“Sorry I’m late!” A shrill voice made your entire body cringe.

You didn’t turn to greet her as Maria and Tommy spoke light hello’s and Joel said no worries.

“I didn’t know you were invited.” Ellie stated with that attitude of hers and it made you snort in amusement.

“Joel invited me. To celebrate my first day at work here.” Heather explained with a smile that you knew was directed towards Joel.

“Um… Where can I sit?” She asked and her gaze fell on Joel’s again as if he would immediately get up.

As if you would let him.

You squeezed his hand just as he was about to respond. Maria saw the desperation in your eyes and she quickly spoke up instead.

“You can sit on our side.” Maria said as she nudged Tommy to scoot down the booth before she follow suit.

Heather looked less than pleased at not being able to sit by Joel, but accepted the off nonetheless with a warm smile.

Ellie carried on with her interrupted story with Maria listening intently. Your hand relaxed its grip on Joel’s while his grip in turn tightened around your hand. You knew he felt awful about this morning and he was trying to apologize in his own Joel way.

You leaned into him as your gaze read the menu that sat in front of him. It was a paper with big hand writing that contained half of what a normal menu would with only two meal options for tonight. Rabbit stew or potatoes, beans, and vegetables.

You glanced up at Joel, “What did you order?”

“The potatoes.” He answered.

You could feel Heather’s heated stare on you, but at this moment you didn’t care. You were going to fight for Joel and show her that he’s yours.

A grin pulled at your lips, “Of course you got the potatoes.” You leaned back from the menu and made yourself comfortable into his side, “I’ll get the stew then and we can share.”

His brow furrowed, “Who says I’m sharing my potatoes?”

You scoffed in mock defense, “You always share your food with me. I am irresistible.” You joked.

Joel shook his head as he chuckled deeply in amusement.

“How have you been settling in?” Tommy asked, pulling Heather away from the conversation that only you and Joel were having.

“Quite well actually, this place is lovely. I can see that you all take very good care of it.” She answered.

It was then that Lily walked to the table with three more glasses of water for Maria, Heather, and I. She then pulled a small pad of paper and a pencil out of her pocket.

She pushed her short blonde hair out of her face as she smiled, “What can I get started for you tonight?”

It was potatoes for Joel and Tommy and stew for you, Ellie, Maria, and Heather.

“Coming right up.” Lily smiled before walking away.

“You never guess what happened.” Maria quickly leaned into the table to spill some gossip, gossip that you knew very well and were more than happy to indulge in.

“What?” Ellie asked already intrigued.

“Well.” You started with a low tone to keep anyone outside from snooping in on your conversation.

“Here we go.” Tommy joked with an exagerated sigh.

“Might as well get comfortable.” Joel said to his brother, the two of them holding back their grins.

Tommy and Joel settled back into their seats, letting the girls gossiped while being interested in the gossip as well… Silently of course.

“I heard from Lorraine at the town meeting last week that…” Maria started to which you finished.

“Apparently Lily has been hooking up with the preachers daughter.” You stated matter of fact, remembering the night Maria knocked on your door right after she was told to keep it a secret.

“No!” Ellie gasped, “But isn’t that like blasphemy or something? Hooking up with a preachers kid?” She asked.

You thought for a moment before shrugging, “I don’t see how it could be.” You turned to Joel, “Is it blasphemy?”

“How should I know?” He grumbled back.

“Well…” You motioned your hand towards him, “I figured if anyone would know it would be you.”

He huffed and pinched your side causing you to squeal, “Funny.” He muttered.

“I’ve been around long enough to know that marrying someone who is related to a pastor isn’t blasphemous. I think the only thing that would be a large age gap between two especially when one is so young with their life ahead of them.” Heather mused as she took a sip of her water.

You felt Joel’s hand tense against yours before it slipped away, moving to rest behind on you the booth. This left an aching feeling in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake off especially at how specific Heather’s words were as if she were directly speaking about you and Joel.

You looked directly at Heather, “I think when they are both consenting adults then age shouldn’t matter. Love should.” You stated.

“And that is why you are still too young to understand dear.” She smiled as if she almost felt bad for you.

The booth was quiet for a moment before Maria spoke up to ease the tension.

“All I know is that they may or may not be secretly eloping.” Maria cheered.

“That seems wonderful.” Heather agreed quickly, “I don’t know them very well personally, but I wish them all the best.”

“Aww, I’m really happy for them.” You leaned back in the booth, trying to stay in the conversation and not have your mood ruined, “I can’t wait till my Ellie gets married.” You sighed happily at the thought, “It’ll be such a cute wedding and I hope my daughter-in-law will be as nice as Lily.”

“Excuse me?” Joel raised an eyebrow as he looked down at you, “She is not getting married. Ever.”

“Hey who says that I can’t?” Ellie leaned over to look at the both of you, “Not that to want to or anything, but still.”

“I say you can’t and it don’t matter if ya want to or not. It’s not happening.” Joel said gruffly.

Joel’s dad mode made everyone laugh while the food was being served. The booth once again fell into a calm atmosphere and you felt your body release some tension the moment you got warm food in your belly.

You were eating your soup peaceful. At times you would place rabbit meat on Joel’s plate while stealing a potato as payment. He didn’t seem to mind and the small chatter and clinking silverware against dishes was heard throughout our small group.

This was how it used to be and a sense of calm washed over you…

Until Heather tried to do the unthinkable.

“Can I try yours Joel?” She asked and began to reach over when Joel nodded, but you were not going to allow that.

Only I can eat off of Joel’s plate and of course Ellie too, but not Heather. Especially after what happened this morning. You thought. I haven’t forgiven her and why should I? She hasn’t even tried to apologize to me after lying to everyone.

You blocked her spoon with yours just as she reach Joel’s plate. Sharing food was your thing with Joel and no one else’s.

“No.” You said without a second thought.

“And why can’t I? It’s just food dear.” Heather had a condescending tone to her voice, another thing that you didn’t like.

You glared at her, “You have your own food.”

“And so do you.” She rolled her eyes.

You were about to say something when Joel squeezed your thigh as a warning.

He gave you a stern look, “It’s fine.” He said as he pushed his plate towards Heather.

You could only look up at him in confusion. He never shares his food with anyone. It was only ever you and Ellie.

“It’s just food.” He said as if it was the most simplistic thing in the world as he took his hand from your thigh.

It’s just food. You scoffed softly at his answer as you glared at Heather.

And maybe it was. Maybe you were over exaggerating, but being together on the road for months with barely any food, it was more than just food to you. It was the silent care that was shown between your little family as you shared the small amounts of food you had.

“Wow! This is delicious! I think I like yours better Joel.” Heather complimented.

“You can have more if you’d like.” He responded with a casual smile, one that had Heather glancing at you with a little smirk.

That made you grind your teeth in humiliation and anger.

It’s your food now and then you later. Why can’t you see that Joel?

You glanced down at your soup with a defeated look.

Do you even want to see it?

[bestanimatedmovie]

Choose your favorite!

Vote in the other polls!

What fans say:

The Lorax:

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse:

It had a very big impact on meme culture. And a really catchy soundtrack. Plus it has the silly sexy green man. What more could you want from a film.*

The Once-ler and the let it die song. This movie is glorious.

It is legit the mother of all great animated movies nowadays. From Mitchells vs the machines to the new mutant mayhem movie! The plot is so good and you can really see character development from almost all of the characters, plus the designs are BANGER.

THE MUSIC?? TOP FUCKING TIER. THE CASUAL DIVERSITY? IT ALSO HAS LITERALLY THE BEST SHOT IN CINEMATIC HISTORY (Miles rising after taking his leap of faith)

BRO THE ANIMATION IS SO SICK. The amount of sheer effort put into this movie is insane. The character growth was so amazing to watch and such a great movie to analyze. Best scenes are obviously the leap of faith. Actually gorgeous. And also the scene where aunt May sees Peter b after her Peter died. Her “you look tired, Peter” is just so heartfelt

Where the hell do I even start. The visuals are incredible and the plot is engaging. Every scene is perfect.

This film has EVERYTHING. Humor, action, inspirational scenes, kickass music, absolutely killer animation, an art style that is an homage to comic books, loveable characters, a talking pig, DR OLIVIA OCTAVIUS, I could go on

This is the best superhero movie ever made, the leap of faith is one of the best movie scenes of ever

The animation style is better than all the others, and makes the movie funnier too! The representation is also good, and the romantic storyline isn't too prevalent in the movie. Probably the best animation Marvel has made. My favorite scene is when the villains show up to Aunt May's house -- its my favorite fight scene!

I’m sure this movie’s been submitted already because it’s arguably the greatest animated film of all time. I have a personal connection to it because I saw it in theaters on opening night with my late father, and we both loved it and I still do. The animation is revolutionary and it’s one of the only 3 movies that make me cry.

gsksvbsvsbsvs I love everything about it, I love the animations, the story, the soundtrack also the style of animation AAAAAA its so beautiful its art it belongs in a museum i get goosebumps everytime I rewatch it

It’s just so good. All the characters are amazing and I love Miles dad. It’s hilarious and sparked my love for spider-man. It’s such a sweet movie about finding yourslef and has such a powerful message. I totally recommend it so I’m not adding spoilers, but like. Ohhhh, it’s so good.

Interesting villains, well-developed character arcs, a fresh take on Spider-Man, unique use of animation, funny, good use of multiverse that adds to the nature of the story being told, complicated character dynamics

It's the best animated movie because A: it takes one of the most well known comic characters of all time, kills him off in the first few minutes, and then shows you every cooler version of him. B: Has a large amount of representation in its main cast, considering that they're all versions of Spiderman, and that requires a white guy by default. C: everything in it is so well done I can't pick a favorite scene, but the most iconic is the jump off the skyscraper window.

The animation is incredible, the movie has so much story and heart, and there’s a perfect balance between humor and seriousness. And the soundtrack slaps

This is probably the best animated film I've ever seen. The animation is definitely the highlight, the way they blend comic book art styles and 3D animation is an absolute joy to look at and is so overwhelmingly creative, every frame of this movie is gorgeous. The impact this had on the industry is undeniable, as we start to see more and more movies getting more creative with their animation styles. It's not just the animation though. All of the characters are entertaining, all of the jokes land and the story is really well done. It leaves me blown away every time I watch it.

This movie kind of changed the western animation industry from the ground up. Apart from being expertly written, funny, and heartfelt, it is also stellarly animated, with a unique visual style that takes direct inspiration from the comic books it adapts and mixes 2d- and 3d-animation in a way and to a degree that hadn't really been seen before in western mainstream. Its critical and monetary success paved the way for mainstream 3d animation to open up to new and excitingly stylised movies that were like a breath of fresh air between the generic Pixar-style animation that had been the largely unchanged norm in the industry since Toy Story circa twenty years earlier**. ITSV divides the screen like panels on a comic page, it uses dots and lines for shading and gradients, doesn't shy away from lowering framerates for stylisation, and makes liberal use of onomatopoeia, both to comedic and dramatic impact. Impact frames and SFX are often hand-drawn and stunningly colourful, and even the simple dialogue scenes astonish with an expressiveness and realism in their depiction of emotions that makes me rewatch a two-second scene of Miles laughing fifteen times in a row. My favourite scene has to be the What's Up Danger scene, the emotional climax of the movie. Set to an absolute banger of a song, it is the moment the entire film has been building up to. I won't spoil anything plot-wise in case you somehow haven't seen this movie, but both from an emotional and a visual standpoint it is Fucking Dope. Conclusion: Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse is my favourite movie of all time and I could talk about it for hours. If you haven't seen it, go watch it. Thank you.

Have you SEEN the Whats Up Danger/rising and falling scene? it's a work of art that makes me fall in love with storytelling all over again whenever I see it. Also the impact that it's had on animated film is absolutely being felt at current, if incrementally. Incredible film.

It has an amazing art style based on comics and mixed up due to genre differences. It's really fun and the characters are great, even the side ones. The story line is great and I love Miles and his family.

*Mod note: errr, quite a lot more than memes and music actually

**Mod note: amen

[homunculus-argument]

Random worldbuilding:

You're walking through an otherwise completely ordinary modern city, but there are countless varying flags hung on the walls of the buildings - on peoples' balconies, windows, rows of little tilted flagpoles on the walls of apartment buildings, one per apartment apparently - each one having a flag. No two flags appear to be the same. You hear yelling from the window of one apartment somewhere above, and turn around just in time to see a couple unfurl yet another flag, hanging it from their own respective pole.

Your local guide remarks that they must have just moved in. Most people lay claim to the apartment as soon as they get the keys and the contract has been signed, and only throw a housewarming party and celebrate moving in a month later, once the apartment has been successfully "claimed". By the look on your face, your host concludes that you have no idea what they're talking about, or what it has to do with the flags.

Your host begins explaining: several centuries ago the land was devastated by a deadly plague - many houses, homesteads, even whole villages were wiped out, the buildings left standing empty. And survivors with nothing to stay for in the places where they were born were roaming about, trying to find a new place to live. To solve both problems, a decree was made: If a wandering party finds an abandoned homestead and raises their own flag on top of the building and manages to stay there for a whole month without the house's original owner showing up to protest, the one who hoisted the flag is now the lawful resident.

So historically this decree made countless of people who were formerly serfs into not only free citizens but landowners with family names and their own flags. Many had a wry sense of humour about theirs, and some of the now oldest and proudest family flags depict things like a broken plough or a pig in a crown - one of them is abstract and seemingly modern, famously born as the ancestors of that particular family had nothing else to use for a flag than one foremother's patterned scarf.

And while these days there's far more laws and regulations on the old traditions of claiming a house, the tradition of flag-raising and keeping an official housewarming party only a month after the move have remained. Many young couples moving in together don't just choose which one's family flag to use, but getting your own, unique mutual flag commissioned for you is a fairly common wedding gift. Immigrants coming from somewhere else who have adopted the house flag traditions have made their own designs, using elements of their own old homeland like historical symbols, colours, and birds that are not native here.

You pass by a flag with a figure that looks conspicuously like Garfield, and your host confirms that yeah, while there is a registry of flags and you can't make a flag that's exactly the same as that of someone else, the flags are explicitly excempt of regular copyright law. This decree was set after someone jokingly included a Mickey on theirs, the government sided with them, and Disney came to the conclusion that going into actual, literal war with a small nation with a trained army would be bad for PR.

[acepalindrome]

SDV QoL Mod Recommendations

(1.6 Edition!)

Some years ago I made a big list of some of my favorite Stardew Valley mods, because I am a mod gremlin and there are so many fun and cool things you can do with your game! Modding has changed a lot since then. Some of the old mods have been abandoned and aren’t compatible with 1.6, and lots of new ones are popping up all the time to help keep this 8 year old game fresh and interesting! So I’ve put together a list of mods that currently work with 1.6. Since there are so, SO many mods, I’m just going to list quality of life mods for now. Let me know if you guys are interested in recommendations for expansions, cosmetics and other fun stuff!

Firstly, if you’re new to Stardew modding and don’t know how to start, I highly recommend checking out Salmence’s How to Add Mods video on YouTube. He walks you through all the steps and makes it very easy to get the hang of it! And without further ado:

The Mods

UI Info Suite 2: I’m new to this mod, but now that I’ve got it, I’m not sure how I lived without it! It does so much! It shows your daily luck, any birthdays, if it’s going to rain tomorrow, when tools are ready with Clint, when the traveling cart is in town and more! It also shows the range of your sprinklers, scarecrows, bee houses and junimo huts, and if you mouse over your crops, it shows when they’re ready for harvest! Super useful, and the daily icons are small enough that they don’t feel intrusive. I usually get all my mods from Nexus because it’s easy and reliable, so I had put off trying this one since it’s only on GitHub. I absolutely should have tried it ages ago.

NPC Map Locations: Shows where everyone is on the map. No more running around trying to figure out where someone is to give them a birthday gift! This is an essential mod for me, it’s such a simple but good improvement!

Look Up Anything: This one basically eliminates the need to have the wiki open in another window. Virtually everything in the game can be clicked on to give you more information. Mouse over Shane and press a button to see his birthday, how many hearts he has and how many points to the next heart, and all loved and liked items (with items you have on hand highlighted!) Select the hardwood in your inventory to see how many you have total (including storage you don’t have on hand,) everything it can be used for and how many you need for each thing, so you know how many you need! Almost everything can be selected to give more information!

Visible Fish: Useful AND pretty! It shows all the fish currently available to catch swimming in the water, so you don’t spend ages trying to catch something that doesn’t spawn at a certain place or time! Also it just looks really nice. I love seeing the fish in the river when I’m just passing by!

FriendsForever: Eliminates friendship decay, so people don’t hate me if I forget to talk to them for half a year! Also works on animals, so I can ignore my pigs all winter and they still love me.

To-Dew: You can make a to-do list that will appear on the screen and can be marked off as you complete different tasks. No more will I take a trip to town for seeds and forget that I also wanted to donate to the museum and give Caroline a daffodil! You can also set items to be reoccurring on certain days of the week, if you want to remind yourself to look for forage on Saturday, or make Thursday your designated day to empty and refill your kegs. Very customizable! I also like to make lists of all the seeds I want to buy every season.

TreeTransplant: Robin can now move trees around your farm just like she moves buildings! I’m really bad at planning my tree placement, and it’s so frustrating to have to cut down full grown trees to change my farm layout. Now you can move trees anywhere!

Fishing Made Easy Suite/Combat Made Easy Suite: I love these mods over others that make fishing/combat easier because you can decide the exact degree you want to make things easier! You can make fishing anywhere from 5% easier to 99% easier, if you want to just take the edge off the difficulty, or make it impossible to fail a fish. You can take just a little less damage from monsters to make the Skull Cavern less daunting, or become unkillable and oneshot everything. They also have options to do fun things like put legendary fishing in fish ponds or craft magic rock candy. You can also make things harder, if that’s what you want!

Automate: Machines can pull items from chests, process them, spit them back out into the chest and pull in the next item automatically, without you having to do anything! It can be a little op early on, but it’s super handy when you have a million machines to keep track of. I especially like it for things that have shorter processing times. I can stick a chest of ore and coal next to some furnaces and let it do its thing! Or put a bait machine, recycle machine, crab pot and chest all together. The crab pots will empty and refill every day from the bait generated by the bait machine, deposit fish and trash into the chest, and any trash will be processed by the recycling machine! There are tons of fun ways to combine different machines!

TimeSpeed: Lets you stop, slow or speed up time! You can select time to freeze at certain locations (I like time to stop when I’m inside a building, like in old farming games,) set time to move slower or faster in general, or press a button to change it on the fly!

That’s all I have for now! Links will be coming in a reblog because tumblr is weird about posting links sometimes. Let me know if you’d like recommendations for other kinds of mods, like cosmetic mods, expansions, stuff that adds items or changes dialogue! I love to share the cool mods I find!

[hopefulkidshark]

The Pig - on the beach, Dorset, United Kingdom: Mellow yellow house tucked away along studland bay, the pig-on the beach is truly rural, with uninterrupted views of the long stretches of dorset's sandy beaches and jurassic coastline. Designed in the style that has become the pig’s signature, it features a greenhouse restaurant, panelled cosy retreats with roaring open fires, 28 bedrooms with a touch of luxury but bags of homely charm, and massage treatment rooms tucked away in the shepherd’s huts at the bottom of the gardens.

[carolmunson]

we have such sights to show you (sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

warnings: 18+ major MAJOR smut, minors DNI. eddie and reader are in a long term established relationship. takes place in october 1990. big trigger warnings for: spanking with multiple implements, use of manipulative coercion (not dubcon, not noncon), lots of name calling and degredation (whore, slut, bitch, pig, calling or inferring that reader is stupid/disgusting/worthless), physical sadism, emotional sadism. knife play, blood play, blood kink. references to daddy kink, references to a lot of kinks, references to role playing. references to use of safe word. mild dom drop. YES, there is aftercare.

-- The drive home was quiet with Eddie's hand on your thigh, his other on the wheel while he leaned back in the driver's seat. His expression was stoic while he drove, he didn't smile, he didn't turn to you at red lights to steal a kiss -- you knew before you left Steve's house what was to come when you got home. Before the second movie was even over.

Eddie was thrilled to be the one who got to pick this round for movie night, opting for something scary so close to Halloween. Hellraiser, and Hellraiser II -- not exactly your favorites, but definitely something his horror loving heart could pound to. Steve was miserable the whole time because he wasn't allowed to be scared, a new flavor of the month cowering into his chest when they weren't making out.

Robin was enthralled with the Cenobites, getting into excited discussions with Ed about their back stories and designs. Whispering next to each other while still trying to pay attention. The kids and Nancy just complained about it being gross. But it was the way Eddie's hand discreetly crept upward, ringed fingers wrapping around the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling tight that told you what would happen later. He turned to you when you took in a quiet but sharp breath at the feeling, letting out a soft hum of confirmation. You knew when you were putting your shoes on to leave and he stood over you with his arms crossed, walking to the door while you stood up. You forgot how to move when he looked at you, his hand on the door knob. He beckoned you forward with two fingers, his voice had dropped, his stare darkened for a simple demand:

"Come."

You shivered.

Eddie turned off the ignition when he pulled in infront of his trailer - Wayne's trailer only a few steps down. He'd had enough money to move into a small one bedroom apartment closer to Robin, but he didn't want to leave Wayne behind. He waited at the screen door for you, his breath crowding around him in the cold.

"Please, go slower," he snapped sarcastically while the leaves crunched under your boots. You broke out into a small jog, hurrying into the door as he opened it. Eddie, still the gentleman, helped you remove your coat to hang it up. When he turned back around from the coat rack he took your cold hands in his to warm them, but the way he looked at you was enough to get the job done.

His hands traveled from yours, to your arms, to your cheeks kissing you softly before breaking away, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, baby," you smile, his eye contact searches for truth in your statement. He smiles back at you when he knows you mean it, leaning in for another kiss. "Go get ready for me, hm?" he asks. You nod, your head getting fuzzy at the suggestion, even though you'd been prepared for this request the whole ride home. It still made you tingle, no matter how long you played this game -- it felt like the first time, every time.

---

You stood naked in his bedroom doorway while he was sat on the edge of his bed with his heavy combat boots planted on the floor. His wallet and chains were still attached to his pants, jacket and shirt discarded save for a black tank top against his pale, inked skin -- what can ya say? He knew you liked to see his arms flex when he worked.

Your collar was laid out on his thigh, thick and leather, undecorative. A silver loop on the front with smaller ones to the sides so if need be, he could clip you in place just about anywhere. "Come," Eddie repeated his sentiment from earlier in the same low tone he had before. You took a step forward and he cleared his throat, his gaze narrowing at you. "You know better," his voice is low and gravelly in his throat, a smirk flicking across his face when you sink to your hands and knees.

"I don't like it when you start off by disappointing me," he chides while you crawl from the door to the space between his legs, settling on your knees before him. "Sorry, sir," you say softly while Eddie's hand slides gently under your jaw, his thumb rubbing back an forth on your skin. "What do you say when I check in and you feel okay?" he asks, a ritual of questions before he decorates you. "Orange," the coolest flame aside from red. "What do you say when you want me to ease up or want me to be nice?" he smiles when he asks, you giggle at him -- it's more fun when he's not nice. "Yellow," a bit hotter.

"What do you say when you want me to stop?" his hand moves so his thumb can brush against your lower lip. His chest tightens when he asks. "Blue," the hottest flame aside from white. Burning. Hellfire. You had only used it twice before and Eddie was in dom drop for hours after each of them -- completely inconsolable. Steve had to come over and intervene. "And if something feels beyond Blue, if you need me to take you to the hospital or call 911..." "Code Red," you nod. "And I have permission to call Blue or Code Red if I think you aren't able to make that decision for yourself?" he doesn't lose eye contact and your heart hammers, you want to kiss him for how deeply he cares for you. "You have my permission," you take the hand on your face by the wrist and press slow kisses to his rings while he looks at you. "Please bless me, sir," you whisper up at him, Eddie almost chokes. How on earth did he get so lucky? You're on your knees begging for him to put you in your place, to fulfill both of your desires. You trust him to do this to you. He wants to pinch himself every time you look up at him with those glassy, rounded eyes -- you couldn't be real, there's no way.

He takes his hand away gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead while he gathered the collar in his hands.

"My pretty girl," he mumbles against your skin. When he pulls away you both have a silent agreement that once it's fastened, you're no longer you -- you're just his, you belong to him only. You're his to control. He guides you to the bed to adorn you with the rest of your cuffs, leather and binding, able to connect to each other at a moments notice. Your ankles and wrists are dressed, straps like a garter belt around your waist and thighs — chains of different lengths hung on the walls depending on what position he wanted you in, how bound he wanted to see you.

He presses a crudely made spreader bar he put together from old PVC pipe between your ankles while you stay kneeling, clipping your cuffs into place on the ends. Eddie stands back to admire you in the low light, two candles flickering on his dresser glinting in your eyes.

“Do you worship me?” he asks, lighting a cigarette, holding it in his lips while the smoke leaks out of his mouth. He looks over the instruments laid out on the bedside table, running a finger over your leather bit gag only to pick up his riding crop. You breathe a sigh of relief through your nose and his eyes flick up at you briefly.

“Yes, master,” you respond, Eddie can’t help but grin smugly at how willing you are to say it.

“Who do you pray to?” his voice gets more stern this time, sliding the crop through his hands, tapping the end on his palm.

“My master,” you confess. Your eyes flutter closed for a moment while he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. You savor the gentle touch as it’ll be the last he’ll give you for a while. He takes another drag from cigarette, letting his mouth open so the smoke billows out in a thick cloud in your face. The haze burns your eyes but you fight the desperate need to clamp down your eyelids — lest you be chastised for not keeping your eyes on him.

“Who makes you worthy?” he asks, eyes like shiny black beads narrowing down the slope of his nose. The leather of the crop presses up on your chin, tilting your head up just a bit. You’re not afraid to look at him, but it hurts to do it. He’s so…pretty, so domineering. He raises his brows with heavy eyelids, blinking slowly while he waits for your answer. More clouds of smoke escaping him while he toys with the cigarette between his teeth.

“You make me worthy,” you say.

“That’s right,” he says, tapping the crop under your chin before striking it down on your shoulder. You lean your head back and let out an audible sigh at the subtle sting. He replaces the riding crop under your chin with his hand, holding tight on your jaw.

“Such a sweet, pretty thing,” he says with a darkened stare, his voice deepening to something rumbling and animalistic, “Excited to ruin it.”

You whimper under his touch, tugging away slightly from his grip on your jaw.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutts, pulling your face closer to his, “What did they say in the movie? What was that line?”

He takes a beat to listen to your fearful pants fill his ears, to watch the tears start to wet your eyes. Eddie’s slacks start to tighten at that look in your face, somewhere between terror and complete devotion.

“‘So eager to play, so reluctant to admit it,’” he quotes with a mean chuckle. He takes the now almost finished cigarette out of his mouth, carelessly putting it out on your thigh to match the other fading burn scars he’d littered there. You let out a loud cry at the surprise of the burn. Normally you have time to brace yourself for his cruelty, but maybe he wasn’t in the mood to prepare you. Sometimes he could be so mean.

“No, please,” you whine, squirming your thighs and hips to move away from the assault. It’s hard with with spreader bar under you, with your body contorted and tied up for his pleasure.

“Oh no, can’t have that,” he says with a furrow of his brow, “What’s my biggest rule?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you whisper out in a gasp, “I’m sorry, sir.”

“You never learn, huh?” he asks, but you know he’s not expecting an answer. Eddie takes the bit gag in his hands, you shiver at the sound of the metal clinking and he notices.

“Not feeling very brave tonight?” he smiles while you open your mouth, settling the bit between your back teeth. The leather gave you something to bite down on when the pain became a little too much. Eddie liked this over a ball gag so he could hear you scream and cry, drool still pouring out of your mouth by the end of the night.

You shake your head no, saliva already pooling under your tongue at the foreign object.

“You’re such a disappointment,” he spits, “Maybe I should untie you and find a different helot to entertain me.”

“Matter of fact,” he starts, finger trailing over the leather cuff on your ankle, “I think I’ll call someone else -- feel like you'll just bore me.”

You ache as he reaches for your binds, trying to beg him to stop but it just comes out as muffled whining through the gag. He undoes one ankle, and then the other, smirking while you start to cry. He takes his time putting the spreader bar back in his closet, hearing you sniffle was making the blood rush in his ears. Eddie leans over you to undo the gag and you smell the smoke of his Camels on him, it's woefully intoxicating. The feeling of his hands gracefully handeling the leather and metal on your body shouldn't make you feel quite like this.

The bit comes out followed by strings of your spit, even after being in for such a short time.

"Please -- please I'll behave," you cry to him, his hands reaching around your neck to work on the removing the leather collar pressed against your skin. He wants to discard you. Your heart drops to your stomach, pounding fast as his nimble fingers work at the buckle behind you. Your reach for his wrists, clawing desperately at them while you beg. "Please sir, I can handle it. I want you to hurt me, I need it," your petulant whine makes his pulse quicken, "Please don't take it off, I'm yours -- please."

"I don't recall giving you permission to touch," Eddie says in a measured, low tone. Your heart shoots from your stomach to your throat, making you sputter. Your hands retreat back to your thighs where they belong, shaking.

"I'm sorry, sir," you sound pitiful, but he doesn't want you to break just yet -- he had all night to destroy you.

"I can take it, I can be g--"

He lets go of the collar, leaving it on and still clasped. Eddie shakes his head while you babble, an exasperated sigh escaping him while one of his hands roughly rakes into your hair while your scalp screams.

"Stop. Fucking. Talking," he growls through gritted teeth. The crack of his other hand making contact with your cheek rings through his small bedroom. Your head turns hard to the side at the impact, the arch in your back was involuntary while the heat of his smack blooms through your cheek -- his handprint already decorating your face.

"Gave you that rule two years ago. You too much of a stupid fucking bitch to remember?" he asks just under a yell, pulling you by the loop on your collar to lay on your stomach, your face by the pillows. You frown and turn your head away from him towards the wall while he reaches for the binds at each corner of the bed, keeping you in place -- spread eagle below him. Open, vulnerable.

"Hips up, whore," he says in your ear, you huff at the admonishment but lift your hips up obediently. He slides a pillow under your hips to keep you at an angle that'll make everything hurt just a little bit more. Eddie's hand skirts up your thigh before leaving a stingy smack on your bare ass only to hear you hum contentedly toward the wall. You turn to look at him before he can ask you to and he reaches for the flogger on the table. He’ll start you off small, work his way up until you were an inconsolable crying mess on the middle of his mattress -- dick buried in your pussy while his hips snap against your bruising and abused skin.

You turn to look at him before he can ask you to and he reaches for the flogger on the table. He’ll start you off small, work his way up until you're an inconsolable crying mess on the middle of his mattress -- dick buried in your pussy while his hips snap against your bruising and abused skin. He lets the leather strips slide over your skin first and you sink into the mattress. The wait was the hardest part, him deciding when you were worthy of his abuse. You jolt when he runs it between your legs, the implication exciting you -- 'If you're a good girl, I'll play with her too.' You can't help but let out an excited whimper, your hips wiggling when he dances the flogger over the meat of your ass again.

"A glutton, are you?" he chides, "That's a sin, y'know."

The leather snakes off of you while he crosses his arms, the tattos on his biceps and forearms bulging, "They say it's a deadly one."

CRACK!

The sting of the flogger lights your whole body on fire, the sparks of it blooming from the sit point at the top of your thigh. He laughs quietly when you writhe under the first hit. Whining at the second, moaning when the third strikes you across both cheeks.

"Wrath is, too," you mutter out. He pinches your hot skin between the knuckle of his forefinger and thumb. You yelp, restraints jingling while they pull at your flailing wrists. "Play nice," he warns through gritted teeth, "Or I won't play with you at all."

He continues quietly, switching between mild pressure and hard, biting whips. He'd considered starting with just his belt, but since he had plans to go further than normal he didn't want you to get too hurt, too quickly. Though, being belted by him truly was your favorite.

The pain was right on the line, your thighs desperate to tighten but unable to by the chains attatched to your ankles. Your hips pushed up against the pillows, dragging downward to get some form of friction while he brought the flogger down on your ass again and again.

"See, and you were so scared before," he taunted, "You love being whipped, don't you?"

"I prefer a little more effort, but -- sure," you sass. Eddie's posture stiffens at your retort.

You turn your head back to the wall, nervous to look at him. You hadn't meant to sass -- it just slipped out. He'd say the same thing if you switched positions. Eddie huffs when you turn your head to the wall, wrenching you up by your hair to readjust you to watch him. Bratting now and again was fine, but not something he liked to deal with during a scene -- especially when he hadn't consented to it beforehand. "Do I look like I'm in the mood?" he asks, squatting to get eye level with you. "No sir," you say, guilt pooling in your chest. "Open your mouth," he instructs, there's no playfulness in the demand. The jovial spark in his eye replaced by a deadened glare. You do as your told, opening your mouth slightly and he begins to shove the handle of the flogger between your teeth lengthwise.

"Bite down," he says, you do. He takes a moment to look at you like that, now unable to snap back at him and smirks.

"A gift for you, since you love getting whipped so much that you're rubbing that slut pussy all over my pillows," he finishes the sentence by cracking his hand back down on your ass over the inflamed skin before going back to his collection of implements.

He switches out for paddle, your least favorite in his collection of them. Leather lined, never fun on a bare ass — big enough to cover a good surface area, thin enough to leave a sting and bruises for tomorrow. He watches your eyes follow it when he picks it up, spinning it in his hand before gripping it again. He taps it gently in the heel of his hand before turning his full attention back to you.

"A little more effort?" he asked with a laugh, "Okay."

He glides the paddle across your thighs first before bringing it down hard enough on the seat of your ass that you could hear it cut through the sound barrier with a loud 'THWAP'. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the pain, your hips jumping off the pillows at the first hit alone. He doesn't give you any reprieve, bringing it down a second time just as hard, then a third and fourth. Remorse had escaped him, chuckling at your loud yelp at the impact. The handle of the flogger falling out of your mouth in a sticky mess in front of you.

"You sound like a dog," he teases, "God, you are a dog."

Your cheeks burn at his comments, knowing he's just going to get more mean as the night continues. It's more exciting than heartbreaking, your thighs twitch while he mocks you. The paddle connects with the tops of your thighs and you jump again, rubbing your face into the mattress to soothe the sting of tears threatening to build in your nose.

"Awfully quiet tonight, you selfish bitch," he hisses, "You think I'm doing this for my health?"

"No sir," you mutter, gasping at the next hit -- charged with his sexualized anger, your whole lower body buzzing, "Thank you, master." "That's better," he grunts, changing his pace to short, forceful, stinging smacks. Eddie was in the mood for this, watching you get more pathetic as the night went on -- doing your best to stay together for him so he could savor when you started to let go and break down. His little pain slut who loved when he took control. Sure, there were so many other types of play he liked -- sometimes he wanted to hear you whine and cry all night while he kept you over his knee on the couch. Fighting you to keep you in place while your legs kicked and you tried to stop his hand from coming down. Crying to daddy about how you'll never be a bad girl again, cumming all over his fingers inbetween spanks. Sometimes he wanted you bent over the kitchen counter so he could belt you when dinner wasn't ready at his arrival from the body shop -- a punished housewife who could never please.

And sometimes, if you'd been really good, he liked having you on top with your hand at his throat. Laughing at him while he whimpers under you, training up your confidence for when he wanted to let go.

But tonight -- you knew your place. Better yet, he made sure to put you in it. "Ah-huh! Ah! Ow-ow-ah!" was all you could call out with his relentless pace, the lump in your throat building. It hurtles up and up, more forceful every time you go to swallow it back down.

Eddie admires the splotchy discoloration, the sheen forming on your raw skin after each direct smack of leather. Bruising already beginning to bloom on the curve of your ass -- christ he just wanted to fucking bite it when it bounced back at him. Taunting him to fuck you, to make you make even more pretty sounds for him.

The next slap hits close enough to your center to make you clench, your orgasm building since he picked up the paddle. Your hips raise while you whine and whimper and his final blow finally makes you let your walls down.

You start to cry. Hard.

"There she is," he sound so pleased with himself, "There's my little cry baby." He gives you an encore, raining down a few lighter smacks from the spit covered flogger over your angry lower half. You shook from the aftershocks and the sobs wracking your chest.

When he puts the tools down in their place on the bedside table, he walks slowly back over to you. His fingers skate over your thigh, humming at the feeling of heat radiating off your body. Eddie makes way toward your inner thigh which was now coated in slick. He knew you came more than once already but it wasn't worth punishing you over, too much sensation to know the difference. His fingertips run over your swollen lips, massaging gently while slipping them between your folds. "Thank you, sir," you croak out, arching your back to feel more of his touch. He bites back the ‘good girl’ on his tongue for remembering your manners. That wasn’t how you both were playing today, but god was it hard to hold back the restraint. He had half a mind to break the scene early just to drive his tongue between your legs. Tease you enough to get you begging for him to let you cum, get your pretty subby voice calling out to God when he was right there in front of you. "Hm," he hums out, removing his fingers and rubbing his calloused hand over your tender ass. You know what he's asking without words. "Orange," you say, making eye contact with him. He bites back his praise again -- 'my brave girl, look at you.' Your confirmation of being okay this far clues him in on what he can do next -- even if you won't like it at first. He lets two open hand smacks come down on your thighs again, sending you into a fresh fit of cries.

He toys with the cane in his hand first when he picks it up from the line of them on his dresser. Your eyes widen when you see it, especially after the flogger and the paddle, you weren't expecting to be caned tonight. Hot wax maybe, but not caned. Fear flows through your veins, meeting every nerve with an icy shiver.

“Are you surprised?” he asks, “Think you don’t deserve this?” You just look up at him from the mattress, half of your face pressed into it.

“You can answer,” he says, “Would love to hear what’s running through that empty head.”

“Don’t punish me, sir, please,” you croak out. The cane really was your enemy, it was only reserved for when Eddie was punishing you after a day of blatant bratting or when you broke a hard rule.

“Punish you?” he asks with knitted brows, placing it next to you while he puts another pillow under your hips, “I'm testing your limits, bunny. You told me you could handle it. You're not a liar are you?”

“No, sir.”

"Good," he replies, but it's not encouraging. "So, I'll ask again -- do you deserve to be caned?"

“Yes, sir,” you respond, face reddening deeper, “I deserve to be caned. I’d do anything for it.”

He chuckles while undoing the restraints on the mattress connected to your cuffs, knowing you're too far gone to try to escape your next fate. "Anything, huh?"

You nod, shimmying a little to get him to start when he picks up the cane again. The sooner he began, the sooner it would be over — but then again, the sooner you wouldn’t be able to sit without his help for a week.

“You’ll do anything?” he asks again, you nod dumbly, “You’ll eat your master’s ass?”

Heat builds in your stomach at the suggestion. The last time you had, he made you feel so dirty in the most delicious way. He came all over your chest and stomach only to punish you for being 'too good' at it on the first try, “If I’m worthy, sir. Please let me.”

“Such a filthy fuck pig,” he tutts, a grin building while he speaks, “You’re so disgusting. Dirty and desperate.”

“Begging to lick my asshole just so I’ll smack you around,” his admonishment hits right down to your pussy, making it twitch, “You hear how you sound?”

“Yes, sir,” you whine.

“What do you sound like?” he asks, a wolffish smile curling across his face.

“I sound like a whore,” you admit, tears building in your eyes again. You heart hammered from the humiliation and the arousal, your nervous system not knowing which feeling to focus on.

“Just like a cheap whore — last on the roster. You’re worthless,” he darkly states, “Pimps would have to pay people to fuck you.”

You pout into your next cry while he continues, “You should feel lucky that I bother.”

“I’m so lucky, sir,” your lips tremble while you say it.

Eddie snaps the cane onto your calves and it burns. Thin and spindly, the smaller the rod the more biting the sting — a sharp reddened line already etched into your skin.

You can���t help the yowl that comes out of you at the feeling. It hurts, and not in a way that makes your legs shake. The pain jolts you out of your hazy subspace and back to a shuddering mess -- your legs in an army crawl position while you push up and away on the bed.

"Don't you dare," he growls, reaching out to grab your ankle to pull you back down. The cane comes down on your already burning skin leaving another thin blood red mark across your ass. Again, again, again. Your legs were vibrating in pain with every big and small tap he brought down on your fleshy backside. You try to shimmy away again, stopped by his hand on your thigh, one of the marks shining with small beads of blood by his thumb. He stops to look at it, hypnotized by it, like he'd never noticed that you bled before.

"Stay right there, baby," he mutters out softly. The change in tone immediately makes you whip your head back to look at him. Eddie lays the cane across the tops of your thighs before gathering the beads of blood on his thumb admiring it and then admiring you. He locks eyes with you, holding your gaze while he licks your blood of his thumb and swallows it. Shit. Maybe it was from Hellraiser being a blood bath of a movie, or maybe it was your little pants and whines from the after stings of being caned -- no matter what it was -- blood was getting Eddie close as fuck to cumming in his boxers; and watching him lick it off his thumb had you dripping all over again. "Get on your back," he orders quietly, a shift in his demeanor -- no longer your mean master but something different, darker. Somewhere in the ether between your God and your damnation. You gasp when you slide of the pillows onto your back, the scratch of his cheap bedspread irritating your new wounds and bruises. Eddie undressing was thankfully there to distract you. He reached into his jeans discarded on the floor, fishing his switchblade out of his back pocket and flicking the blade out. Your heart rate soared, torn between so scared you could cry harder or so turned on you could just gush all over his bed. He climbed like a predator onto the mattress, settling himself between your legs -- the silver of the knife glinting as it appeared next to you in his hand. "Do you trust me?" he asks you for the second time. You nod vigorously through fast inhales and exhales, eyes flicking from his and back to the blade. "Do. You. Trust. Me," he repeats slower, keeping your face trained on him. The cool metal presses against your cheek where you knew his handprint was still etched.

"I trust you," you promise, keeping your eyes on him. He scans your face like he did earlier than night -- he could always tell when you were lying. He leans in to kiss you but it's rough and ragged, meant for his pleasure. Eddie pulls away, lips stringy with spit -- his dark curls closing you in like a curtain where it's just the both of you. "Do I own you?" he asks.

"Yes," you rasp out, "I'm yours." He leans you back on the bed, moving the switch blade to his dominant hand laying it flat on your chest, dragging it in unplanned shapes over your skin before standing it on its tip just under your collarbone. He looks at you, your eyes round and pleading but not afraid -- he seeks your silent confirmation to continue. You blink slowly, your body language a clue, and he blinks back. "All mine," he says to himself, putting pressue on the blade. It hurts, but it's slow and controled while he guides it down in a small straight line. You gasp at the feeling, somehow the quarter inch line felt like it took years to carve into you. He kisses the spot below the small line, watching blood bead out from it -- not enough to drip, not deep enough to pour. He takes the blade to the top of the small line, another quarter inch etched at the top of it. You let out a tiny moan when you feel his hips rut against you, slipping against your slick and swollen fold. "Baby, baby," he mumbles, "Be patient, hm? Can you be patient?"

"Yes, sir," you cry out, watching his lust blown eyes etch another quarter inch line from the main one. More beads of your blood marring whatever he was drawing onto your skin with his blade. The final line etched and you both moaned with eachother. "I l-like how that h-hurts," you breath out, tears still pouring out of you. "I like it, too," he nods. He sits up to admire his work, the blood on your chest, your mascara streaks down your face and neck. His pretty little ruined whore. Eddie leans down, groaning while his tongue drags over the ichor pooling over his art work to reveal a tiny 'E' carved just under your collarbone. You can't stifle the moan in your throat while he continues you lick up your neck, meeting your mouth hungrily. His hands find the backs of your knees, pushing your thighs to your chest using his hips to guide himself unforgivingly into you.

"Oh fuck," he hisses, "Shit, you feel so good."

But you were gone, hazed out, tasting the metallic tang of your blood on your lips passed on from his. The hard thrusting of his cock made your body bounce, soft little mewls escaping you -- too fucked out to engage in actually being fucked. "God, this fucking whore pussy," Eddie panted, your walls squeezing tight aroung him causing loud and lewd squelches to fill the void between Eddie's moans, "Fuckfuckfuckfuck." He wanted chase his high as roughly as he could to finish out the night but your glazed over eyes brought him down. Poor baby. His hand caressed your face while he slowed down his strokes to something soft and deep.

"Hey, hey, baby," he calls out, his voice back to normal -- your Eddie.

"You with me, honey?" he asks, heart racing a little when you don't immediately respond.

"Baby? Angel?" he asks again, taking your chin and giving you a little shake.

"Hm," you respond, your bleary vision clearing up at the sight of him -- big brown eyes searching for life in yours. He smiles when he sees your eyes focus on him, you croak out a small, "Hi."

"There's my girl," he nervously breaths out a laugh. "Don't stop," you whisper out, feeling his slow pace coming to a halt -- but the stretch of him pushing in and out of you was exactly what you needed. "I won't stop," he whispers back, his lips desperate to be against yours again. His pace quickens, finding your hand and lacing your fingers -- pressing it into the mattress to steady himself against you.

"That's my good girl. Ah, fuck. I'm gonna -- hhnnff shit," he grunts into your ear, "G-gonna f-fuckin' fill you -- hhhmmmffuck -- gonna f-fill you up." "Please, daddy. Please fill me up," you whine out. Ugh, Eddie might as well have died and gone to hell hearing your blissed out voice. So broken and stupid and wrecked that she needs her daddy. He couldn't last when you pulsed over him, an orgasm he wished had been bigger from you after all of this. He was almost embarrassed with how big his had been, though yours was round three and his was only the first. He slid out slowly, pulling you in for a kiss that felt like a gentle apology. He rubs noses with you when he pulls away, stroking your hair gently. "You really are my good girl," he praises. "Thank you," you murmur. "Can you stand up for me so I can help you get in the shower?" he suggests, "I'll take care of you." You lazily reach for him to help you out of bed, cried out and fucked out, exhaustion overwhelming you and all of your limbs. He pulls you up, holding you close to him while he walks you to the bathroom. You hear the hiss of the water in the standing shower, leaning against the sink while Eddie inspects every inch of your body while the water warms up and feeds you some ibuprofen for the oncoming pain. He's surprised there wasn't more damage outside of the one cane mark that broke skin. Sure, you were covered in welts -- but when weren't you after a night like this? He looked at the burn mark on your thigh from his cigarette, making a mental note to treat it with Neosporin like you always had to remind him to do. In the greenish light of the bathroom, the little E on your chest stood out even more. He couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement at it -- dried blood already darkening it against your skin. Eddie lead you into the shower, it was a semi tight squeeze when he closed the frosted glass door behind you, but you didn't mind. It was nice to feel his breath on your neck while the water hit you -- warm enough to ease the ache in your muscles, but not too hot to wake up the angry marks on your thighs and backside. "Easy, baby, easy," he chided when you went to reach for the soap, "I got it. I gotch'you." He takes the soap and a clean wash cloth slung over the door, sudsing it over until the light blue fabric was more bubbles than fibers. He started at your neck, moving your wet hair out of the way to get the back -- massaging you gently when your eyes closed. He worked slowly, washing your body in sections, pressing kisses to each one, letting you lean against the plastic of the wall to rest. Whispering your praises into your skin to remind you that you're perfect. "Thank you," he mumbles into your hip, on his knees while he runs the soap into his hands to gently cleanse the backs of your thighs. He knows the cloth is too rough right now, but he doesn't want the area to go ignored.

"Thank you? For what?" you ask sleepily. "Just, bein' my girl," he gives a peck to your thigh, letting his hand come to squeeze your other knee. He gets up, his curls drenched and sticking to his shoulders and face. You survey him under heavy lids and he looks almost sad. "You okay, Ed?"

"Yeah, yeah," his voice is a little shaky and he sniffles, reaching for the shampoo. You let him wash and rinse your hair, he takes his time with the conditioner how you taught him. He does the same for his own, making sure to leave some of it in, so his curls stay hydrated and healthy. His little live in beauty school drop out, where would he be without you to keep him so pretty?

He helps you out of the shower, drying you off and treating your burn and your new 'E' ornament with ointment before bringing you back to bed. Eddie doesn't talk much during this part since you're normally on your stomach. He coats you with a light wash of lotion, unscented so you could still wear your favorite body spray without the smells getting mixed up. He'd made that mistake once before when he bought lavender and you never let him hear the end of it.

He avoids the lotion on your battered body, opting for aloe gel instead to soothe the burn. You hiss at first under his touch, but quickly relax, listening to him hum a melody to himself -- slow and romantic. Eddie finishes babying you with a gentle back rub, reaching up to scratch and massage your scalp -- a full circle moment from when he pulled your hair hours ago to signal the kind of night he wanted to have. With his help, you get situated in his t-shirt and a pair of his old boxers that might as well just be yours at this point. He sniffles again and you look at him, his brown eyes a little glassy with tears. "You love me, right?" he asks, "Even when we -- Even after I do this?"

"Of course," you smile warmly at him, coming more to life as the minutes pass. "Can you..." he falters at first, trying not to cry, "Can you say it?" You hold him, your hand smoothing over his damp curls, "I love you so much." You lean back to look at him, "I love you so much that I let you do all of this to me. You're the only person I would trust to make sure I'm okay." "You mean it?" he smiles weakly. "I mean it," you tilt your head, "You're my favorite." "You're my favorite," he challenges. Eddie's next kiss is deep and loving, the way he kisses you when you come home from date night. The type of kiss where he says he wants to make love to you, both sweating and tied up with each other -- gasping each other's air, "I love you, too."

"I know," you promise him while you guide him out to the living room, hoping to cozy up on the couch and fall asleep on his lap. You both know the adrenaline and pain reliever will wear off soon and you don't want to be awake when the pain starts to really set in. Once you're both settled in, he flicks on the TV while you snuggle up in the blanket you crocheted for him as a gift for your first Christmas. Halloween starts on the screen. "Great timing," Eddie says to himself when his hand finds your head on his lap. "Oh, I meant to tell you at Steve's -- they're working on Hellraiser three," you piped up, still watching the screen, "I read about it in your new Fangoria."

"Oh, sick," he looks down at you and you look up at him with a mischevious smirk. "I'm kind of excited," you shrug, "Maybe it'll wake up a new thing in you for us to try. Maybe we can try whips or something."

He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he can't believe that you're like this. Eddie shakes his head, still unsure how to wrap his head around what you said. "We have such sights to show you!" you laugh out in your best Pinhead impression. "Girl..." he started, still shaking his head while looking back at the TV, "And they all thought I was a freak?"

[reasonsforhope]

"A new community housing development in the Bronx will feature a cool piece of kit: an on-site aerobic digester that can turn 1,100 pounds of food scraps into 220 pounds of high-quality fertilizer every single day.

Built by Harp Renewables, it’s basically a big stomach filled with bacteria that breaks down food scraps and wasted food into their component parts, and in the future could be a standard part of all apartment units as the amount of food waste in American reaches 30% of the total mass of all trash collection.

The Peninsula, organized by Gilbane Development Company, will feature 740 units of affordable housing, 50,000 square-foot light industrial space and equal sized green space, and 15,000 feet of commercial space, all of which will send their castaway comestibles right into the digester...

Fast Company reports that Christina Grace, founder of a zero-waste food management company, helped plan the design and implementation of the digester into The Peninsula, and helped organize a 40% grant from the city to pay the $50,000 upfront cost.

“The goal is for this material to work its way into the community garden network in the Bronx,” [Christina Grace, who helped plan the design] told the magazine, adding that she expects it to pay for itself over just a few years. “We see this as highly replicable in both commercial and residential venues. We know there’s a need for fertilizer.”

Producing fertilizer right there in the city reduces the need for it to be trucked in from afar, chipping away, even if just a bit, at NYC traffic.

Big problem solver

Perhaps uniquely beneficial to New York City compared to other spots in the U.S. is that the digester will have a significant impact on the Bronx’s share of the city’s rodent problem.

Those who’ve watched the Morgan Spurlock documentary Rats will understand why that’s significant—while those that haven’t will have to imagine what living in a megacity where rats outnumber people by around 8 or 10 to 1 looks like.

Another big problem the bio-digesters could potentially help is pollution and greenhouse gas emissions. Fertilizer is a big emitter of all three of the most-targeted GHGs. Fertilizer, like quarry dust and ammonia is, like so many commodities, often imported from countries who specialize in its production, such as Norway, but also Russia and Ukraine, whose conflict has recently highlighted the fragility of the supply chain with sharp increases in prices...

Bio-digesters by design keep the CO2 and methane in the fertilizer produced, rather than it entering the atmosphere.

For these reasons and more, the aerobic bio-digester is slowly making its way into residential and industrial spaces around the country.

GNN reported on an enormous bio-digester at the heart of the D.C. advanced resource (sewage) recovery center outside the capital, and on the use of bio-digesters on Australian pig farms which are helping reduce the environmental and psychological impact of the effluent produced from such operations.

Harp Renewables tweeted how happy they were to have installed their bio-digester in the town of Cashel, Ireland.

Expect to see more stories like this pop up around the globe."

-via Good News Network, March 17, 2022

Note: Obviously gentrification bad and "affordable housing" is sometimes nowhere near as affordable as it should be, etc. etc. That said, this is such a fantastic use case that I felt I had to post it anyway.

[jubileemon]

The Dark Side of Motherhood: Exploring Odalia Blight's Character

Odalia Blight emerges as a particularly controversial figure within 'The Owl House'. She was portrayed as a toxic parent in the animated series, known for her manipulative and controlling behavior towards her youngest daughter, Amity.

Parenting Style

Firstly, Odalia consistently places immense pressure on her children to conform to societal expectations and uphold the family's reputation. This pressure is evident in her treatment of Amity, where she not only dictates her daughter's actions but also attempts to control her personal relationships, especially with Luz. Odalia's interference undermines Amity's autonomy and emotional well-being.

Odalia's insistence on Amity dyeing her hair and her overall treatment of her youngest child are indicative of a desire to control and mold her offspring into an ideal that serves her own interests, rather than nurturing their individuality and happiness. It reflects the broader theme of parental expectations and the pressure to conform to societal norms. Amity's initial act of changing her hair to purple in Season 2 becomes an act of rebellion, signaling her desire to break free from her mother's imposed standards.

Odalia's approach to parenting mirrors that of a strict corporate executive, where success is defined by adhering to a predetermined path, achieving specific goals, and maintaining a carefully crafted public image. The children become pawns in the family's pursuit of societal status, akin to employees serving a company's bottom line.

Her Relationship With Edric and Emira

Odalia's biased treatment towards Emira and Edric, as hinted by Amity, suggests a lack of equal regard for her children. The implication that she is less controlling towards the twins might indicate a perceived favoritism or a different approach in her parenting style.

In return, the twins show a level of distrust and occasional defiance toward Odalia. The revelation that Odalia used them as bargaining chips to ensure their father's compliance sheds light on the transactional nature of their relationship with their mother. The twins' secret opposition to Odalia's actions, such as helping in the rescue mission and supporting Amity's defiance, demonstrates their willingness to challenge their mother when they disagree. Their awareness of Odalia's true nature and recognition of her selfish motives distinguish them from Amity, who initially hoped for a more reasonable resolution.

Toxic Behavior

Odalia Blight's character indeed embodies a deeply toxic and controlling parental figure in "The Owl House." Her arrogant and mean-spirited behavior, coupled with a misanthropic disdain for relationships outside of her perceived societal norms, creates a hostile environment for her family.

By isolating Amity from her friends and criticizing them as less skilled, Odalia attempts to shape Amity's social circle in accordance with her own standards. This tactic not only undermines Amity's autonomy but also perpetuates a toxic environment. Odalia's willingness to consider sparing Amity's friends from expulsion but only if Luz becomes the guinea pig for her abomination product presentation underscores her manipulative nature. This condition puts Luz in a difficult position, using her as leverage.

The implication that Odalia's abominations were designed in a way that poses a threat to Luz's life suggests a level of callousness and disregard for the well-being of those who stand in the way of her ambitions. This goes beyond mere manipulation, entering into a realm of endangering others for personal gain.

While Odalia Blight's acceptance of Amity's lesbian sexuality is a positive aspect in terms of representation, her continued disapproval of Amity's relationship with Luz Noceda reflects a persistent bias. The comment about finding Amity "a new girlfriend that doesn't have wanted posters everywhere" suggests that Odalia prioritizes societal expectations and status over her daughter's happiness.

The detailed account of Odalia Blight's actions paints a compelling picture of her as a deeply manipulative and morally compromised character in "The Owl House." Her abusive tactics towards Amity, utilizing an oracle necklace to control her, and threatening Willow's expulsion to sever their friendship underscore her unscrupulous methods of maintaining control over her daughter's life.

Odalia's influence on Amity's attitudes and beliefs, making her act arrogantly and look down upon those she perceives as less skilled, including Willow, further exacerbates the conflict. This attitude shift puts strain on their friendship, as Amity starts to distance herself from Willow due to the societal expectations imposed by her mother.

Business and Ambitions

As the CEO of Blight Industries, her involvement in abomination production aligns with her ambition for power and influence. The episode "Clouds in the Horizon" further exposes the depth of Odalia Blight's manipulative and self-serving nature. Her decision to unfairly ground her children for merely attempting to understand her secretive preparations for the "Day of Unity" showcases her disregard for their well-being and autonomy.

The revelation that Odalia was aware of Emperor Belos' sinister intentions but chose to prioritize her family's ascent to royalty in the human realm over the lives of countless witches is a chilling confirmation of her ruthlessness. Her confession underlines her lack of empathy and moral compass, emphasizing her willingness to sacrifice the greater good for personal gain.

This twist not only deepens her antagonistic role within the series but also underscores the extent of her moral compromise. Her willingness to sacrifice countless lives for personal gain emphasizes her ruthlessness and lack of empathy, painting her as a character willing to betray even her own kind for the allure of a perceived elevated status.

Odalia's lack of genuine loyalty, using Belos for her own selfish motives, and subsequent attempts to align herself with the Collector showcase her opportunistic nature. The karma she faces, particularly in her humiliation by the Collector, is depicted as a fitting consequence for her past actions.

Odalia's Downfall

The events in "For the Future" and "Watching and Dreaming" showcase a dramatic turn for Odalia Blight's character in "The Owl House." The Collector's ability to manipulate her into servitude adds a layer of poetic justice, highlighting the consequences of her previous actions. Being reduced to performing menial tasks and catering to the whims of the Collector underscores Odalia's fall from her perceived position of power. This plot development serves as a symbolic reflection of the repercussions that often accompany a character's moral shortcomings.

In the series finale, the visual representation of Odalia being left out while Amity and Alador reunite implies a significant shift in family dynamics. The confirmation from series creator Dana Terrace that Alador rightfully divorced Odalia and claimed full custody of their children further underscores the consequences of Odalia's actions.