A number of people have inquired, so here’s the story about how I fought a meth dealer at three in the morning. Strap in.

So what you need to know right off the bat is that I just graduated from an art college in Portland, where I was an RA in the freshman dorm for the past 3 years. So there are 4 of the 5 contributing factors to my encounter with the meth dealer. The 5th factor that ties this human toe of a person into my life is that he was dating one of the residents, who was from Florida. If any one of these 5 factors had been different, I would not have rumbled with a member of Portland’s underbelly. 

But Grace, you say, surely the person he was dating could have been from anywhere. Not everyone from Florida automatically has ties to meth dealers. To which I reply, Perhaps, Perhaps it is true that not every Floridian is meth-affiliated, but every resident at this dorm building who ever dated a meth dealer was from Florida, so how am I to know?

So this was my first year as an RA, and I’ll tell you guys, I’ll toot my own horn, because I’m damn good at this job. I have a great report with the kids on my floor and all my events have great attendance and when I bust parties and flush people’s weed, they apologize to me and worry that they’ve harmed our friendship. I got this job on lock down. So a few months in, when I start noticing a……………… recreationally homeless-looking gentleman coming to and fro during my lobby desk shifts, sometimes with bags of…………things, I start to think something is up.

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Important daily reminder

Without Muslims, you wouldn’t have:

1. Coffee, which an Arab named Khalid invented

2. Clocks, by a man called al-Jazari from Diyarbakir in South-East Turkey in the 1200s

3. Cameras, Ibn al-Haitham revolutionized optics

4. Cleanliness (toothbrush, soap, perfumes, etc)

5. Universities, because of Fatima al-Fihri

6. Planes, because of Abbas ibn Firnas who was the first person to make a real attempt to construct a flying machine and actually fly

7. Surgical instruments, by a man from the 10th century named Abul Qasim Khalaf ibn al-Abbad al-Zahrawi, a man known in the West as Abulcasis

8. Maps

9. Music, al-Kindi, an artist long ago, created the system of writing down songs

10. Algebra, which was introduced by Al-Khwarizmi

11. Guitar, which was originally known as a “qitara” in the Arabic of Andalusia

12. Magnifying glasses/glasses, the scholar Alhazen (Abu al-Hasan) from Basra was the first person to describe how the eye works

13. Hospitals

14. Distillation, was invented around the year 800 by Islam’s foremost scientist, Jabir ibn Hayyan, who transformed alchemy into chemistry

15. Vacation, brought to Europe from Turkey

And the list goes on. I just picked some of the ones that are still used a lot


Originally posted by t-raylodytello

Donatello x Reader


Prompt: Donnie x ghost reader? She can walk through walls and she floats, nothing can touch her, but she can touch others and pick up objects if she wants. She also has a ghostly howl.

Note: Aaaaaaaah that’s so cute!!

You didn’t know how it had happened, but somehow, one morning you woke up and you weren’t the same. You couldn’t keep your feet on the ground, and everyone seemed to walk through you. You thought, wished it was some horrible dream. But it wasn’t. It was a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

The days stretched to weeks to months and you found ways to pass the time, exploring the city of New York. You found coffee shops tucked in the quaintest places, bookstores full of brand new books. And you found in these places that you could interact with things. Objects mostly. But if you tried hard enough, sometimes you could interact with people. Some people, mostly animals and small children, could see you regardless of if you were trying to be seen or not. And you had been told by a little girl that you looked like an angel.

Nowadays, you were wandering the parts of New York other people couldn’t dream of finding. Abandoned churches covered in vines, old trees with initials carved in hearts, and now, a utopia underground.

It was amazing. Nothing you’d ever seen before. There were gadgets and gizmos everywhere, and more pizza boxes than you could ever dream to count. And one room, you found had quite the collection of classic novels. So, seeing as no one was there, you grabbed one of them and floated over the couch cross-legged and began to read.

It wasn’t for a few hours that you had company, all of which could see you. You were oblivious, still so caught up in the novel that you hadn’t noticed them come in.

“Ummm…” You looked up and met the eyes of a green mutant something or another. Bright blue eyes and a confused expression. “What are you, dudette?”

“I’m not really sure, to be honest.” You answered. “I just kind of am.”

“Is that my book?” Asked the tallest of the four. He was wearing a bright purple bandana and was covered in tech. He seemed to scan you with his goggles.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just got bored, and I can’t really interact with many things and so books are kind of-”

“N-no, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” He shook his head.

“Why are you here?” The one in the blue mask took a step forward and looked over you. “How did you find us?”

“When you spend a few months like this, you find all sorts of places.”

“Fascinating…” the one with the purple mask whispered as he examined his scans. “So you can interact with objects.”


“And you’re invisible to humans.”

“I’m invisible to everyone except animals and small children.”

“Well, Mikey is both, so you’re covered.” The big one in the red mask chuckled.

“Hey!” retorted the one you assumed was Mikey.

“So, I’m sorry for barging in. I’ll just leave now.”

“You don’t have to leave.” The one in the blue mask said. “We uh, understand what it’s like to be alone.”

“So I can hang out here?”

“Yeah, bro!” Mikey said. “Wanna play Mario Kart?!”

“Do you really wanna get beat by a ghost?” You laughed. The boys smiled as you flew off after Mikey.


“Hey.” You drifted into Donnie’s lab later that night.

“Aah!” He jumped and dropped something made of glass.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you.”

“I-it’s all right. I was actually kind of hoping you would come in here.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“So I could ask you a few questions.” He motioned to you. “About…what you are. For science.”

“Sure!” You hovered closer to his desk.

“Okay, so…” he pulled out a notebook and pushed his glasses up his snout. “When did this happen?”

“Two months ago.”

“How did it happen?”

“I just kind of woke up like this. There was no body or anything, it wasn’t a car crash…I’m not exactly sure how I ended up like this.”


“Like, I can’t walk. I’ve tried to ground myself, but I can’t. All I can do is float. I can touch objects, but it has to be very deliberate. Anything I interact could fall right through me. Even holding a book for a few hours took a lot of practice.”

“Mmhmm…” He hummed as his paper scratched across the paper. “Can you touch living things?”

“It’s kind of hard, but…” You held up your hand and waited for Donnie to look up and notice what you were doing. He slowly raised a large green three-fingered hand to meet yours. You focused all of your being into your fingers and palm, and pressed it against his. He shivered.

“You’re so cold. And tingly.”

“You know that feeling you get when your foot falls asleep? I think I’m made of that.”

“Casper?” He picked up your reference immediately.

“I haven’t seen that movie in a very long time.” You sighed. “I’m still working on electronics…”

“We have it. I could pop it in for you if you want.”

“Only if you watch it with me.”

There was a pause.


“You’ve gotta take a break sometime, right? I think there’s more to you than meets the eye, Donatello.”



“Call me Donnie.”

“All right, Donnie. What do you say then?”

He smiled and nodded gently.



Weeks later, you had found that when the brothers weren’t out on patrol, you often found yourself in Donnie’s lab. You think it helped him to have company while he worked. And whether you were talking to him or just floating in the corner of the room while reading his books, he seemed to work better with you there than without.

You also nudged him to take care of himself while he was busy, reminding him to drink water and take stretch breaks and get to sleep at a reasonable time. In your short time here, you had helped him function better than he ever had.

“How’re you doing today, Don?” You floated in through the closed door and draped your ghostly arms around his shoulders. He shuddered at the cold.

“G-great. How did you sleep?”

“I don’t.” you reminded him. He nodded.

“Oh right.” A small chuckle. “I keep forgetting.”

“Did finish Huckleberry Finn though.” You set it on his desk. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, by the way.”

“No problem.” He pointed to the back corner, where he kept all of his books. “You can borrow anything you want.”

“Sweet thanks!” You floated back there and rummaged through the shelf to find another book to read. The lair was so quiet when the boys were asleep. It was the perfect time to get some reading done. “Ooh, Dante’s Inferno.”

“So I have a question for you.”

“All right, shoot.” You floated back over to him, book in hand. He stood up just as you were next to him and came very, very close to stepping through you.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were right there.”

“You’re fine.” You looked up at him, the closest you’d ever been to him. And with your half-foot of float, you were only about half a foot from his face. God, he was tall. There were a few moments of quiet before he caught his train of thought.

“So, are you sure you’re dead?”

“Well, I mean…I’m a ghost, so I assumed I kind of must be.”

“I don’t think you are. I really don’t.” Donnie sat back down and pulled up some diagrams on his computer. “I think you’re trapped between two dimensions. Around the time of the Kraang invasion was when this happened, right?”


“I think you got spliced with a blast of interdimensional energy and it…it trapped you here and there simultaneously.”

“Okay.” You nodded, eyebrows drawing together as you mulled over the things he was telling you. “So I’m not a ghost, I’m just…whatever this is?”

“Yes, I think so.” He paused, looking at you when he told you the next thing. The more important thing. Possibly the most important thing he would ever tell you in the history of ever. “And I think I can reverse it.”


“You know he’s in love with you, right?” asked Mikey as you watched Donnie work from afar.

“What?” you blushed scarlet. “No, I don’t think he-”

“Nah, Mike’s right.” Raph nodded in agreement. “All he ever does is think about you, work on a cure. He ain’t ever done that before. He’s in love.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m just a ghost. I’m not even real. Yet. I can’t even touch him…or hold him…”

“Maybe that’s why he’s working so hard.” Mikey pointed out. You blushed even harder.

“Shut up.”

“You never know~” Mikey waggled his eyebrows. You wanted to smack him.


The more you worked with Donnie, the more you realized his brothers could be right about his feelings for you. You started to notice little things here and there. Little smiles when he talked to you, the change in the tone of his voice, little inside jokes that set him off. And every day, you found yourself falling harder for the tall brainy turtle. You knew it would be hard to love him, especially considering the fact that you couldn’t touch him, couldn’t hug him, couldn’t kiss him without causing him to get a chill. That’s what he got for falling in love with a ghost.

And so you haunted him for weeks that were quickly turning into months, floating around his lab, making him coffee in the early hours of the morning, and then pulling the blankets up around him at night. You took care of him. You looked after him. And he thanked you for it every day.

And then came the breakthrough.

He knew how to fix you. He knew how to return you to normal. The construction of the machine only took a few days, and then it was time.

“Okay, so when I turn it on, there’ll be a jolt and then you’ll be normal again. Hopefully. If not, we’ll go back to the drawing board and start over.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?” Leo asked. Mikey and Raph were there too, waiting to see what would happen.

“It’ll work.” You said with certainty. “I trust you.” Donnie’s heart raced.

“All right. Here goes.” His fingers shook as he moved the controls and then, finally, one of his thick fingers pressed the button.

You disappeared.


You had the worst headache in the world, you decided. How had you even gotten here? You had had the weirdest dream ever. Four gigantic mutant turtles were living in a sewer, and…had you been a ghost? Weird. Very weird.

You sat up in bed and looked around at your apartment room. There were cobwebs everywhere and…was that snow outside? Snow? In July? No. This couldn’t be. You pulled your very dusty phone off of the charger and looked at the date. December. No. Noooo. That couldn’t be right. It couldn’t possibly be right. Had you just skipped six months of your life? Had you gone into a coma? No. You couldn’t have, could you?

And yet, the more you thought about your strange dream, the less and less it seemed like a dream and the more and more it began to feel…real. Too real. You unlocked your phone only to find literally hundreds and hundreds of texts and emails from friends and family. It was like you had just disappeared. But you knew there was something in between. Some place underground. A lair. And four turtle brothers. Leo, Raph, Mikey, and…Donnie.

How could you have forgotten Donnie? Donnie and his wonderful collection of books. Donnie and his knowledge of all things nerd. Donnie and the bo staff. Donnie and the gigantic crush you had harbored for him.

Your fingers opened your phone and dialed a number. A number you had memorized just in case. Just in case you could ever use a phone again. You dialed it and waited and waited and waited as it rang. Hoping, praying he would pick up.

“Please please please…”

And then…

“H-hello?” a choked up voice that sounded so different now that you actually had ears.


A loud gasp. “(Y/N)?!”

“What happened?”

“You disappeared. I thought…I th-thought you were gone. Where are you?”

“I woke up at my apartment.” You told him your address. And then you waited and waited for him to finally knock on your bedroom window. You didn’t even wait for him to clamber inside, hugging him as he crouched on the fire escape. “It worked! It really worked! Thank you.”

“D-don’t mention it.” His voice was soft. Remnants of tears were still trailing down his scaly cheeks. You reached up to wipe them away.

“Shhhhh….” You shushed him as he started to cry again, pulling him back into you. “It’s okay. I’m here now. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry. I just…lost you.”

“Let’s go back to the lair, all right? Get some pizza to celebrate? I’ve never been this hungry in my entire life.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Donnie smiled and nodded. He took your hand and helped you out the window. You followed him down through the sewers to the lair. God, it looked so different in real life. So big and bright and colorful.

“Honeys, I’m home!” You called into the solemn lair. The moping turtles sprang up to meet you. Immediately, Mikey swept you up in a bear hug.

“Dudette, you’re not dead!”

“No, I’m not.” You laughed.

“Glad to have you here. Like, really here.” Leo said.

“Glad to be here.”

“So Don, now that yer girlfriend’s real, there better not be too much PDA ‘round here.” Raph smirked.

“G-girlfriend?” Donnie’s voice squeaked. “No, I don’t…we’re not…”

“Do you want to be?” your voice was quiet. You didn’t realize how tall he was until now. You couldn’t just float up to his eye level anymore. You just had to look up at his towering form.


“Well, then. It’s settled. Boyfriend.” You grabbed the tails of his mask and gently tugged until he was stooping over low enough to kiss you. His lips were soft and sweet and perfect. When you pulled apart he rested his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

You pecked the corner of his lips, causing him to blush.

“I think I might understand.”

oH MAN so I have to share this… y’know how there’s the general fandom view that Ford’s influence was technically with us the whole time “through the journal,” right? 

well, I was ruminating over this today and sort of spouted a bunch of ideas @witete (sorRY ahahah XD) and we bounced some things back and forth and came up with an awful angst AU and I’m vaguely proud of it so okay here we go…

The sum of all of it: Ford’s trapped in the mindscape forever after Bill Cipher basically murders his body, but Bill’s threat still remains and Ford ends up learning to manipulate objects around him (i.e. like the journal) to try and warn people of this. Things do not go well.

I’ll babble on more under the cut. XD

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SDR2 Headcanons

Here’s a long ass list of my SDR2 Headcanons:

- Izuru had constant migraines as a result of his brain alterations. Hinata continues to have them after waking up, and can usually power through them, but they can get pretty bad

- Hinata’s fairly self conscious of his one red eye, and initially tried to hide it by wearing color contacts

- Hinata really struggled with managing his overwhelming knowledge after exiting the Neo World Program, and would have episodes where he would start spouting off random knowledge like a Wikipedia page and he wouldn’t be able to stop

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Smagg suggested that I should draw @dabbledraws‘ Sugar, because her traits are scary enough for me, but I decided not to. She’s lame, I have better horrorrific ideas of my own.

I decided to draw Clair though.
What’s that shit on the base of her neck? That’s rubber bushing of course, to cover a choppy-chop mechanism from dust, which she clearly requires! Seriously, Dabbs, who taught you the basics of machine construction?

The drawing itself was also a little experiment for me, this time I didn’t use any pencil for sketch but light gray and neon salmon pink fine liners, as I learned from the previous work that my scanner doesn’t see this colour unless I force it out later. Next time I’ll try doing sketch with just the neon colours.

We were gods.

We had altars ripe with gold,
pomegranate stained our lips red,
wine made our tongues lazy.

We were youths,
who frolicked and fucked
in prairie fields.
Bees flying lazily above us,
rich with honey.

The soil was fertile and soft.
We rolled around in the dirt
and kissed each others lips furiously
like this was the last time we were living.

We half believed we could fly,
and resided lazily somewhere between the ether and nature below.

We walked on water,
turned rivers into streams of wine.
We were divine and we owned it.

We dreamt of birds, and constructed our own flying machines.
We had altars,
We had temples, paintings, sculptures, hymns, congregation, endless followers in endless ecstasy.
We owned kings.

We were just a ragtag bunch of half cocked mortals,
who thought they stood a chance,
Somehow we did
and we became larger than life.

We became divine.
We became gods.
and then we lost it all.

—  greek gods in portraiture, greek gods in youth part I 

“The Autobots are some of the most sophisticated war machines ever constructed, but they’re hardly sentient.

Still, sometimes Raf wonders if there’s more to the Autobots than mere metal.

Ghosts in the machine.”


Transformers Prime AU in which the kids are Mech pilots (who slowly realize their bots are alive). Painted with Ayumi Hamasaki’s “Tasking” in mind.

5 secrets to a launching successful startup company

Quietly daydreaming about starting your own company? Before you get too excited, though, you should know what you are up against: About half of small businesses do not make it to their fourth year.

We looked at businesses that soared and failed, and listened to serial entrepreneurs about what they wish they had known when they were starting up. Here are their secrets.

If you are a sole proprietor, find B2B partners — don’t reinvent the wheel. 

You may be offering your one-of-a-kind rum-dipped peanut-doodle cookies to market, but that doesn’t mean you need to build your own store and construct your own vending machines to sell them. Better to rely on existing infrastructure and expertise.

Be prepared: It will take longer to launch than you think — and there are no days off.

Contrary to what Tim Ferris is selling, there is no four-hour workweek for budding entrepreneurs.

“No one ever told me that I would be trading my 50-hour workweek for a 100-plus hour workweek when I first started my company,” Roger Bryan, of Enfusen Digital Marketing, told the Muse. “The one piece of advice I would give new entrepreneurs is to plan on investing all of your time and then some if you plan on being successful.”

Protecting yourself from liability — and getting insurance — can’t be an afterthought.

If you are selling food and someone gets sick; if you are giving advice and someone loses money; if you are selling a product and it is defective and hurts someone — you are liable.

Setting up a limited liability corporation separates you (and your personal money and assets) from your company’s money. Someone cannot come after your personal assets when trying to sue the business. 

Competition is good and advisers are a must.

Startup activity is growing: Entrepreneurship, as measured by revenue and number of employees, is up in 2016, according to the Kauffman index of startup activity. That follows an upward swing that started in 2015; in 2014 the startup activity index was at its lowest point in the last 20 years. This should motivate — not discourage you. 

Marketing isn’t what you think it is.

Let’s say your business is struggling and you have a little extra cash. Should you put it toward marketing or investing in technology? The smart money is on technology — and innovation.

Read more about all of these tips


Today marks the 12th Anniversary of a very interesting case of Civil Disobedience in the small Colorado town of Granby. 

Back in 2004, local Grand County area man Marvin Heemeyer was absolutely sick of being the victim of zoning laws and his muffler repair business being blocked by a federally funded Concrete batch factory. Like any other good respectable Coloradoan, Mr. Heemeyer decided it was time to take matters into his own hands and began construction a vicious machine. For a year and a half, Heemeyer spent his days modifying his Komatsu D355A bulldozer that he had originally bought to create an alternative path to his shop, but Heemeyer had better plans for it, thus the KILLDOZER was born.

Heemeyer had fabricated a solid steel cage around his Komatsu, in some places being more than a foot thick. To bind this all together, Heemeyer applied a 5,000 psi concrete mix between plates, effectively making homemade composite armor. This made the now venerable KILLDOZER impervious to the trivialities of small arm fire and explosives.  

Similar to many armored vehicles now found in the Syrian Civil War, the KILLDOZER was wired with two cameras and monitors mounted on the vehicles dashboard. Furthermore, the video cameras were protected by 3-inch shields of bullet-resistant plastic. Gun ports, air nozzles, fans and air conditioning were also added to the beast. On the morning of June 4th, 2004, Heemeyer lowered the armored hull onto the KILLDOZER, sealing himself away and permanently saddling himself on his death machine. The KILLDOZER erupted from Heemeyer’s shop and set its cross hairs on all that had done him wrong.

The concrete plant, the Town Hall, the office of the local newspaper that editorialized against him, the home of a former judge’s widow, and a hardware store owned by another man Heemeyer named in a lawsuit, all fell victim to mechanized destruction.

  No one was safe from the wrath of the KILLDOZER. 

Local Police Officers and SWAT teams were deployed to combat the steel beast, but all attempts (including dropping a flashbang into the exhaust pipe) were ineffective in diverting its steely vengeance. 

Colorado State Police were running out of options and feared that Heemeyer might turn against the civilians of Granby. Bill Owens, the governor of Colorado at the time, considered authorizing the National Guard to dispose of the KILLDOZER. Owens suggested the use of AH-64 Apache Helicopters or Javelin teams. However, the death of the KILLDOZER would not come at the hands of Apaches or Anti-Tank missiles, but rather the basement of the local Gambles Hardware store. 

At the second hour of Heemeyer’s rampage, the KILLDOZER began to destroy Gambles Hardware store, unaware that it contained a basement level. Already leaking fluids and radiator fluid, the KILLDOZER took its third and final strike. As Heemeyer attempted to exit Gambles, the KILLDOZER’s engine failed, then had dropped a tread into the small basement. Seconds later, the mortally wounded KILLDOZER was surrounded by SWAT members. Heemeyer knew his luck had run out. 

Heemeyer put a .357 revolver to his head and ended his life, taking 13 mangled houses and $7,000,000 worth of damage with him. His lifeless body wouldn’t be retrieved from KILLDOZER until 2 AM the next morning. 

Despite Heemeyer’s two hours of carnage, Heemeyer and KILLDOZER remained the only casualties. KILLDOZER, as many tools of crime end up, was turned into scrap and sent to a multitude of scrapyards. This was to prevent any admirers of Heemeyer from taking souvenirs.

Rose Garden (Ruby X Oscar): A Question

Post series, post Salem, post main story line. Rated F for fluff.


“Keep them closed. We’re almost there” The elevator doors slowly slid open, and Ruby stepped forward hesitantly as Oscar kept his hands over her eyes as they walked.

“I hope so” she giggled “Walking around this much without seeing anything makes me nervous.”

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Nous ne croyons pas en général que la sexualité ait le rôle d’une infrastructure dans les agencements du désir, ni qu’elle forme une énergie de transformation, ou bien de neutralisation et sublimation. La sexualité ne peut être pensée que comme un flux parmi d’autres, entrant en conjonction avec d’autres flux, émettant des particules qui entrent elles-mêmes sous tel ou tel rapport de vitesse ou de lenteur dans le voisinage de telles autres particules. Aucun agencement ne peut être qualifié d’après un flux exclusif. Quelle triste idée de l’amour, qu’en faire un rapport entre deux personnes, dont il faudrait au besoin vaincre la monotonie en y ajoutant d’autres personnes encore. Et ce n’est pas mieux quand on pense quitter le domaine des personnes en rabattant la sexualité sur la construction de petites machines perverses ou sadiques qui ferment la sexualité sur un théâtre de fantasmes : quelque chose de sale ou de moisi se dégage de tout cela, trop sentimental en vérité, trop narcissique, comme lorsqu’un flux se met à tourner sur soi-même, et à croupir.
—  Gilles Deleuze & Claire Parnet, Dialogues, Flammarion, 1996