#Finding Gutter Cleaning Services

[keonicbdgummiesinfo]

Professional Tips When Finding Gutter Cleaning Services

Gutter cleaning is an essential maintenance task that helps protect your home from water damage. Clogged gutters can lead to overflowing water, which can seep into your foundation, damage the walls, and cause other structural issues. To ensure your gutters are clean and functioning properly, it is advisable to hire professional gutter cleaning services. However, with so many options available, finding the right service provider can be overwhelming. In this article, we will provide you with professional tips to help you find the best gutter cleaning services.

Importance of Gutter Cleaning

Before we dive into the tips for finding gutter cleaning services, it's essential to understand why gutter cleaning is important. Gutters play a crucial role in directing rainwater away from your home's foundation. However, they can become clogged with leaves, debris, and dirt over time, obstructing the proper flow of water. Regular gutter cleaning prevents water from overflowing, avoiding potential water damage to your property.

Research Local Service Providers

When searching for gutter cleaning services, start by researching local service providers. Look for companies that specialize in gutter cleaning and have a good reputation in your area. Local companies are more familiar with the specific needs of your region and can provide prompt service when required.

Check for Proper Licensing and Insurance

Before hiring any gutter cleaning service, ensure they have the necessary licensing and insurance. A reputable service provider will have the proper licenses to operate and carry liability insurance to protect you in case of any accidents or damages during the cleaning process. Always ask for proof of licensing and insurance before making a final decision.

Ask for Recommendations

Seek recommendations from friends, family, or neighbors who have recently hired gutter cleaning services. Personal recommendations can provide valuable insights into the quality of service, reliability, and professionalism of a company. Ask about their experience and whether they would recommend the service provider.

Read Online Reviews

Online reviews are another valuable resource when researching gutter cleaning services. Visit reputable review websites and read what previous customers have to say about their experiences with different service providers. Look for companies with consistently positive reviews and avoid those with a history of customer complaints.

Inquire About their Cleaning Methods

When contacting gutter cleaning companies, ask about their cleaning methods. Different companies may use various techniques, such as hand cleaning, pressure washing, or vacuuming. Inquire about their approach and choose a company that uses methods suitable for your gutter type and condition.

Request a Detailed Quote

Before finalizing your decision, request a detailed quote from the potential service providers. The quote should outline all the services included, the estimated time for completion, and the total cost. A transparent and detailed quote will help you make an informed decision and avoid any hidden costs.

Compare Prices and Services

While price should not be the sole determining factor, it's important to compare prices and services among different gutter cleaning companies. Keep in mind that the cheapest option may not always provide the best quality service. Look for a balance between reasonable pricing and high-quality workmanship.

Check for Guarantee or Warranty

A reputable gutter cleaning service will stand behind their work and offer a guarantee or warranty for their services. Inquire about any guarantees or warranties provided and understand the terms and conditions. A guarantee ensures that the service provider will rectify any issues that arise after the cleaning process.

Evaluate Customer Service

Good customer service is an essential aspect to consider when hiring any service provider. Evaluate how responsive and professional the gutter cleaning company is in their communication. Are they prompt in answering your queries? Do they provide clear and concise information? A company with excellent customer service is more likely to deliver a satisfactory experience.

Inquire About Safety Measures

Gutter cleaning can involve working at heights, which poses certain risks. Ensure that the gutter cleaning service follows proper safety measures to protect their workers and your property. Ask about their safety protocols and if their employees are trained in safe work practices.

Consider their Experience and Expertise

Experience and expertise play a vital role in delivering quality gutter cleaning services. Inquire about the number of years the company has been in operation and the qualifications of their staff. A well-established company with experienced professionals is more likely to handle any challenges that may arise during the cleaning process.

Look for Additional Services

Some gutter cleaning companies offer additional services that can enhance the performance and longevity of your gutters. These services may include gutter repairs, gutter guard installation, or gutter system inspections. Consider hiring a company that provides comprehensive services to address all your gutter maintenance needs.

Check for Professional Affiliations

Professional affiliations and certifications can provide reassurance of a company's commitment to high standards and professionalism. Look for gutter cleaning services that are affiliated with recognized industry associations or have relevant certifications. These affiliations indicate that the company adheres to industry best practices.

Schedule a Consultation

Once you have narrowed down your options, schedule a consultation with the shortlisted gutter cleaning companies. During the consultation, discuss your specific requirements, ask any remaining questions, and assess their knowledge and expertise. A face-to-face meeting can help you gauge whether the company is the right fit for your gutter cleaning needs.

Conclusion

Finding the right gutter cleaning services is crucial to maintaining the integrity and functionality of your gutters. By following the professional tips outlined in this article, you can make an informed decision and hire a reliable and efficient service provider. Remember to prioritize licensing, insurance, customer reviews, and safety measures when selecting a gutter cleaning company.

[angelofacidx]

Pet

Dark Ghoap x Fem! Reader

CW: Kidnapping, drug mention, violence, death mention.

Johnny had an incredibly easy time keeping himself busy during retirement. There was always something to be done around the house, a new local sport team to join, or an outing he’d convince Simon to humor him on with a bat of his lashes. However, years of military service were not kind to his body. Cleaning the gutters would leave a strain in his shoulder. Bopping around at a shitty punk gig he’d dragged Simon to would wind his muscles tight for days. The nail in the coffin was at his last rugby game, an over compensated move completely throwing his back out.

That was enough for Simon, being the judge and the jury for Johnny’s sentence of doctor ordered bed rest. In the first days Johnny had still tried to keep up around the house, following Simon around and chittering on that he was fine before getting promptly carried back to bed like a sack of potatoes over broad shoulders. He’d fully given up after that point, his little spirit crushed as he laid in bed absently doom scrolling on his phone for hours. That was, before one of your videos came across his screen. Written in the stars by the algorithm.

The video was innocent enough, a ‘Get ready with me’ style set to some cute music which unknowingly doomed you. Thumbs flew across the screen as Johnny tapped on your profile, greedily drinking in your entire post history over the course of a couple hours. His favorites he’d bookmarked and watched over and over again, already memorizing whatever little song you’d picked to go over your video. His heart hammered in his chest and he swallowed a lump in his throat, hovering over the direct message option.

Hello :) Big fan! Do ye think ye could wear that black dress from 20/11 in yer next video? Loved it.

Johnny waits anxiously for your reply and decides to send another message apologizing for coming on strong, only to realize he’d been blocked by his newest little project. With a pout and a sigh he resigns himself to making another account, rinsing and repeating his actions of following you, going through your videos, and bookmarking his favorites. His head is too far in the clouds to even register that Simon had been standing over his shoulder for a minute, watching him.

“Whatcha got there, pup?” Simon’s voice sounds from above, causing Johnny to almost jump out of his skin.

“Jesus! Ye scared me,” Johnny said, placing a hand over his heart for dramatic effect.

When he saw that Simon was still awaiting an answer, he shook his head to rid the jitters.

“A real pretty lass. Somethin’ about her. She’d fit right in.” Johnny said with a dreamy sigh, looking to Simon and trying to gauge his reaction.

Simon’s hand is held out expectantly before Johnny places his phone in his calloused palm. His eyes fixate on the screen as he goes through the videos. He’s right, you’re pretty. His pup’s eyes look as if he’s a child pleading for a new toy at the store and he’s nothing if not a sucker for it. With a resigned sigh, Simon pockets the phone and ruffles Johnny’s hair.

“Bed time,” Simon says with a soft canter to his voice.

Johnny obliges, mumbling good nights and kisses before he’s out cold and Simon makes the trek downstairs to haul himself up on the couch, the room illuminated with Johnny’s phone screen.

You have piss poor internet safety. Simon gathers information quickly, half military training and half having brain cells to rub together. You make it too easy, like you are begging to be whisked away.

A video in your likes about being non contact with parents.

They wouldn’t ask where you were.

A ‘‘jokey” audio about your pet being your only friend

No one would come looking for you.

A video was taken in your work uniform with a name tag and a clock in the background during the shift.

Location and time you’d be on the premises.

Once he was satisfied with his findings Simon trudged back up the stairs, slotting in bed next to Johnny and lazily throwing an arm around him. His pup deserved a playmate while he was down for the count. Someone soft and docile like you to play with. Even if this was a big task, Simon would get what his precious boy wanted.

…

You’re a lot more bite than bark, and Simon had not been anticipating that. Muscling you into his truck and binding your limbs was easy even with the thrashing, but the deep bite mark blossoming purple and red hurt and he was not patient with disobedient mutts. Your screaming was silenced by a metal cage being strapped to the back of your head, the clasps tugging at your hair and a leather bit in the middle that made drool pool in your mouth and any noises come out hushed and gurgled.

“Really don’t wanna drug ya, love. The side effects are nasty and I’ve already got a pet on bed rest.” The masked man driving the car says, his voice deep and gravely like he’s smoked since he exited the womb.

You resign from fighting pretty early on, not missing the 9mm tucked into his waistband; a silent threat and promise. Instead, you focus on your surroundings out of the window which is mostly trees and fields as he drives out of the city limits and to, well, wherever he’s taking you. You catalog this information and commit it to memory and hold onto the delusion that when you escape you’ll be able to tell the police exactly where he took you and which way you went.

The road he’s driving on takes a sharp left and turns into more gravel and dirt than sleek tar pavement. Down the beaten path you pull up to a house, very unassuming and nice on the outside but you can only imagine the state of the inside. Every horror movie and true crime video you’ve ever seen plays in your mind. The filth, the squalor, chains and sex toys and rotting corpses in refrigerators.

The masked man gets out of the truck first, shutting the door with a surprising amount of care and then opening your side. He grabs the middle of the rope, where your hands are bound, and shuffles you out of the vehicle. When your feet meet the ground you’re tempted to run, but his gun remains front and center in your mind. Dumb idea. He crouches down on one knee then, like a parent getting on their child’s level to reason with them as he speaks to you; his grip still strong on the rope.

“Now, I need you to be good f’me and listen. If you make any fucking noise until I tell you to I’ll break your little jaw right off your pretty face and you’ll be eatin’ baby food the rest of your life. Got it?” He says in a soft tone but with no room for thinking he’s joking.

You nod your hand in understanding, too high on adrenaline and fear to cry even though your throat feels closed off and your eyes and nose sting with that familiarity. He rises to his feet then, unlocking you through the door and pulling you through the threshold. You prepare yourself for the worst but you’re met with the most mundane setting you could imagine. The walls are beige and gray, an accent wall in dark blue. A nice leather sectional couch, flat screen TV a few feet away from it. The place looks…underwhelming.

“M’ home. Just puttin’ the shopping away, hold tight up there in bed.” The man calls up the stairs to god knows who before turning his attention back to you.

He leads you by the wrists into a spare room right off of the living room which at first glance looks just as underwhelming as the rest of the house. A desk with a large dog bed under it, a few paintings on the wall, a book shelf, and a board for darts. When you’re being drug further into the room though, you notice it; a sturdy chain mounted to the wall and attached to a collar with a thick padlock. The leather is engraved with a name: Johnny.

The collar is placed around your neck and locked, gapping awkwardly in the back and ill fitting. The man tries to tug it over your head a few times but is satisfied when it won’t go past your jaw. The numb tingling in your hands draws your attention down to them as you try to wiggle your fingers and get some blood flow back. Survival is not guaranteed but you’re relieved that you’re not on the set of Texas Chainsaw Massacre at least.

You’re guided slowly onto your knees with two strong hands onto your shoulders, until you meet the plush carpet. You look up at him finally, a proper look. His eyes are dark and devoid of emotion, like some sort of a living breathing shell. He’s tall and filled out everywhere, even without the gun you now believe his promise of breaking your jaw more. You’ll have to use wit and gain trust to get out of here; you’ll have to fawn.

“M’ gonna go get my boy and you’re gonna act like you’re over the moon to be here.” He says, taking a step back from where you’re kneeling.

“I don’t like to take in strays and I sure as fuck don’t put up with rowdy mutts. Give me a reason to show you, and you’ll learn real quick darling.” He says, before opening the door and shutting it behind him.

You’re left to your own devices then, chest heaving and eyes darting around the room. With him gone you can finally let your defenses down a little so the tears start to cascade down your cheeks silently. The gag, well, muzzle makes it hard for you to catch your breath as you heave and sputter as quietly as you can. You wonder who Johnny is, the poor soul before you in this position. By the way the collar fit, were much larger than you and still fell at the hands of this man. The thought made bile rise to your throat.

Far away voices and footsteps get closer and closer to the door then as you’re frozen in place kneeling. Your chest rises and falls quickly with each breath before it hitches all together as the doorknob is turned. The door opens, and another man has joined your captor. He’s smaller, a dark mohawk and striking blue eyes. He is absolutely elated to see you, apparently. He’s a blur of moment, on his knees by you in a blink and gathering your tired body into a spine crushing hug.

He turns his head behind him to the mask man with an ear to ear grin, beaming and nauseatingly giggling to himself.

“You didn’t!” He says excitedly, like someone reviving a way too expensive present in a secret Santa exchange.

“Just for you puppy. You’ve been down since your injury an’ I figured I could get you a playmate.” The man says, a hint of a smile in his voice.

He seems to care a great deal about this man with a death grip on you, happy just to see him happy.

The man affectionately referred to as “puppy” buries his nose in your hair, sniffing deeply and letting out a deep shuddering breath. You feel his cock twitch against the outside of your thigh where he’s got himself pressed against you. You’re beginning to think this was the Johnny you were feeling sorry for a second ago.

His hands move up towards your muzzle to undo it but the other man stops him, warning that you’re not properly trained yet and might bite. He whines, but gives a nod in understanding, giving you another rib bruising squeeze.

“Don’t worry lass. We’ll take care of ya’.” Johnny says, planting a kiss on top of your head.

The larger man steps out of the room then, shutting it behind him and leaving you to get accompanied with your new playmate and acclimated to your new home. Hope slowly starts to leave as Johnny whispers promises of giving you pups and never letting you out of his sight.

[fandomfics]

We're Strangers

Part 1 of 3

Ragnarok AU

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Description: When Loki ends up stuck on Sakaar, he runs into you, an indentured servant to the Grandmaster.

Master List

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Au, Loki stays on sakaar and Thor never shows up. Implied sexual situations(light smut?), mentions of nudity, language, use of restraints.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Indentured servitude in the Grandmasters Palace can be absolute hell, but you find it a much better arrangement to sleeping in the gutters and barely scraping by. You are given fine clothes to wear, you are fed, and you have a bed to sleep in at night. All for the price of being one of the grandmaster's personal maids.

You spend your nights in a chamber next to his, awaiting the ringing of a bell to indicate he is in need of you. Most of your time is spent mending and making clothing for the champions, occasionally being called for refreshments or food for the grandmaster and whoever is occupying his bed that night. On the rare occasion that he doesn't have a companion, he calls you in to fill that roll.

The first time it happened you were surprised by the proposition, moreso that he actually wanted your consent. After that you always agreed, spending a night wrapped in his luxurious bedding, partaking in pleasures you rarely did otherwise. It was a treat.

For a long time your life in service of the grandmaster was monotonous, the rare nights with him were the only break from it until he took a new lover. The tall thin man is clad in green and gold, his long dark hair is slicked back, and the ever present mischievous smile on his face is wide. The Grandmaster clearly was obsessed with this one, he was the only one to spend time with him for months.

One evening you sit in your plush armchair hand sewing a garment as quiet music from an unseen speaker fills the empty space, an open window allows the cool breeze to wash over your skin and you shiver.

"Cold darling?" You jump in your seat, startled by the unexpected presence, sending the needle into your finger.

You turn sharply to see the Grandmaster's lover.

"oh, I'm terribly sorry about that." The grin on his face conveys the exact opposite of his words and you shoot him a cold look in response as you make your way to the small first aid cabinet.

"What do you want? You should have just rang the bell. You know how all this works by now." You spit at him while you remove the needle to clean and bandage the wound.

"I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to be nosey," a look of confusion contorts his face, "I mean, I want to find any leverage I can against the grandmaster to use at a later date."

You laugh as he continues to speak, "why can't I say I'm tired of fucking him, I want to take his title? Norns! I just want to lie to you!"

"Must be frustrating," the amused smile on your face elicits a probing glance from the god. "I must say, I find your confusion quite entertaining."

"What have you done to me?" He scowls

"Not a thing sir. People from my planet are... special. We can't be lied to..." A quick flash of sadness washes over your features before you replace it with amusement once more, but he caught it.

"Hmm, seems like a planet that I could use in my endeavors..."

"Have fun with that." You say turning away.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

An uneventful week passes before he returns to see you. He takes a seat in the armchair across from you and silently watches you work. You don't acknowledge his presence until he finally speaks.

"I'm sorry." His voice is low, almost too quiet for you to hear.

"What for?" You're caught off guard by his words, you expected more mischief.

"Your planet. Are you the last one left?" His eyes are... Doleful. You've never seen him convey such emotion. With the exception of last week's confusion, all you've seen is cocksure devilry play across his handsome features. You eye him cautiously, just because you can't be lied to doesn't mean that you can't be manipulated.

"I'm not sure. I was taken years before it happened, but I've never encountered anyone."

"By the grandmaster?"

"No, I just ended up on this trash planet sometime after. "

"Hmm." He shifts in his seat as he thinks, bringing a hand up to rub his chin. "Why didn't you tell him what I said?"

You shrug, "No one has ever been successful, didn't think it mattered."

"I like a challenge." he smirked "oh, how rude of me, I never introduced myself. Loki, god of mischief." He bows his head to you.

"I am well aware of who you are." You chuckle before giving him your name.

"Beautiful name, it suits you." He says before repeating your name slowly, savoring it like the last sweet in the box. He is clearly trying to charm you, but for what you don't know.

"What is it that you want from me Loki?"

"Just your friendship. Nothing more." His eyes light up with his smile, "it's getting awfully dull around here while I bide my time."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Four months pass and Loki still has the affections of the Grandmaster. Every night after he falls asleep Loki finds his way to the chair opposite of you. You share your lives with each other, stories of your past, hopes for your future. A friendship blooms.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Do you actually want to take the grandmasters place?"

"What?"

"Its been months, you haven't really spoken to me about it since the first time we talked."

"Well of course dear," he becomes ever so slightly sheepish "I just don't want to ruin our friendship by asking for your assistance in the matter. I've kept you out of it, if this fails he doesn't need a reason to punish you as well."

"Aww, the god of mischief has a friend that he cares for?" You tease him with a wide grin.

"Oh hush. Consider yourself lucky. Few have been so honored as to be this close to me and have my full respect." The scowl on his face breaks quickly when you laugh, and he follows suit.

"I would help you, you know? If you asked."

"No, I couldn't." He sighs "You really are too dear to me."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You look troubled. What's going on?" Another few months have passed and you've continued your routine with Loki.

"I think the head of archives has figured out what I'm planning." His brow furrows and he pinches the bridge of his nose screwing his eyes shut tight.

"Let me help you, please? I could just go down and ask them a few questions, just make sure you're clear." You offer hopefully, at this point you've grown very close, and all you want to do is help him.

His eyes shoot open and he searches your gaze for a moment. "No," he shakes his head as if to push the thought away. "I told you, I can't let you. I'll find a way through it. Don't worry about me darling."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning when your shift is over you immediately head to the archives. Loki is going to get your help whether he likes it or not.

You've encountered the being he's talked about before. A large humanoid that stands a solid 8 feet tall with grey skin and antlers. They can be intimidating when necessary, but they know you are a personal servant to the grandmaster himself.

"Shill! How are we today?" You greet them as you normally would.

"Can't complain," their gravelly voice echoes in the wide expanse of the archive. "What do you need today?"

"Just a quick task. Need to ask if you've heard or seen anything suspicious lately. You know the song and dance. Been a while since someone attempted a coup, think the man's a little on edge." You whisper the last part.

"Nah, nothin' on that front." They say with a chuckle, "You'll be the first to know if I hear anything."

"Thanks Shill, I appreciate it." You say with a smile, slapping the desk before you leave.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I have good news for you!" A smile lights up your face when Loki sits in his chair.

"Do you?" His curiosity is peaked as he looks to you.

"Shill has no idea what you're up to."

"I told you I didn't want you involved," he buries his face in his hands in exasperation.

"I wanted to, and I'm glad did. I can do more."

"Norns, you are stubborn." He looks up to you, "No, I'm almost ready, I don't need your help."

"Too bad." Defiance drips from your words, "If you don't give me something to do I might get myself into trouble trying to figure out how to help you."

"Fine." He thinks for a moment before speaking again. "I need to get into his private study for one last thing. Would you be able to keep him occupied for a time?"

"Well, when his bed is empty he asks for my company. Maybe you take a night to yourself. I can keep his night busy while you make your way in."

"Perfect. Here's the plan, I will make my way into the room at my usual time, just before he arrives, and hide myself away. I will speak to him with a sort of doppelganger of myself to reject him for the night, and the other me will leave the room. Once he has you in, you keep him distracted so I can grab the key to get in and out. Then I can hide out in your chamber until everything is clear."

"Wow, you already planned this out? I thought you didn't want me to help you?"

"I was going to find someone else to fuck him, but if you're offering..." He shrugs.

"That's settled then. When do we set this plan in motion sir?" You say in mock seriousness.

"Tomorrow night."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Large room that houses the Grandmasters chamber is lit to set a mood, the warm dark colors on the walls and wood floors make the atmosphere cozy even in the massive space. The walls house floor to ceiling shelves of books and trinkets from all over the universe. His four poster bed sits in the center on a raised platform, and here is where you sit.

Nude, you straddle the Grandmaster, his limbs are tied to the bed posts, a silky blindfold covering his eyes.

"God's your cock is huge sir!" You scream out, giving Loki the signal to begin.

From your vantage point you can see him making his way to the discarded set of keys on a shelf, when he is ready to grab the keys you make eye contact with him and let out a loud moan to drown out any noise they might make. You see Loki's eyes quickly flit to your bouncing breasts and his jaw visibly tightens before he begins to move again.

His approach to the door signals your next move. You remove yourself, from the bed, much to the grandmasters discontent, moving around the room playing dumb.

"I think I need to find that delicious little toy you got off world, you know the one, makes it look like I have a tail."

He hums in approval before telling you exactly where it resides. You open and close random drawers, making him wait several minutes, giving Loki just enough time to slip in and out of the study before returning to your chamber.

"Ugh, you're such a tease!" The grandmaster says desperately before begging you to return. With Loki's mission safely accomplished you get what you were looking for and spend the rest of the night in pleasure.

At the break of dawn you return to your room to find Loki still there, his face is etched with anger.

"Did you get what you needed?"

"Yes." He replies curtly.

"Then why do you look like you want to murder someone?"

He stands and makes his way across the room, standing right in front of you. "Because I do." He whispers.

You're speechless, wondering what he means exactly until he continues.

"I don't like the thought of him touching you, let alone what you were doing to him." He turns around leaving you confused. You place your hand on his shoulder, touching him for the first time since you met all those months ago. He feels... electric.

"What are you talking about?"

"Seeing you with him made me realize something. I didn't know exactly how much I wanted you until it was clear that you aren't mine." He turns to face you again, "but I have to tell you some-" he is interrupted when you close the distance and your lips crash into his. He's momentarily startled before his hands cup your cheeks and pulls out of the kiss. The confusion in your eyes makes way for fear before you push yourself away and immediately start apologizing.

"I thought you meant-" you start frantically before he grabs your face again to speak to you.

"I did," he sighs, "but I don't want this to go any further until I've told you the truth."

"What do you mean? You can't lie to me..."

"I uh...I found a way to." He releases the hold on your face and returns to his chair. His hands run through his hair and he looks to the ground with a deep sigh.

"My doppelgangers. If I'm not in the room with you physically, I can-I can lie to you."

"So everything was bullshit." You say flatly.

"Yes... No. I mean, the only thing I really lied about was not wanting your help. I wanted to get close to use your talents to aid me in my quest, but I was- I am your friend. Your friendship is important to me... You are important to me." He finally lifts his eyes to meet yours and sees the tears streaming down your face.

"I don't want to see you ever again. We're Strangers and nothing more."

"I understand. I'll respect your wishes." Before he can leave you return to the Grandmasters chamber and climb back into the bed.

"Where'd you go?" He turns over sleepily before pulling you to him.

"I need to tell you something."

"Can it wait until after we go another round?" He teases as he grips your ass and grinds against you.

"No. Loki is planning something. He wants to replace you." He releases his grip on you and sits up suddenly wide awake.

"How do you know?"

"He's been coming into my chambers to see me on occasion. Just to talk... I just found him in my chamber when I went in to get a drink. He wanted my help and confessed to me." The hurt you feel from Loki's betrayal masks any guilt you feel for exposing him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The grandmaster immediately sends his guards to find the god, but he's gone. A new lover has taken his place, and everything has returned to how it was before. The only difference being the numbness you feel.

[lottiette]

Billy Thunderman X Depressed Reader

Authors note: Hi everyone! This wasn’t requested but I wanted to write it because I’ve been feeling pretty down in the gutters lately. I am taking requests so feel free to ask. I hope everyone has a wonderful day/night/evening. I love you all. Take care of yourselves.

Warnings: mentions of depression and self harm.

- Billy loves you with all he has. If you’re in pain, he’s in pain.

- He doesn’t fully understand what you’re going through but he wants to.

- He knows what it’s like to feel lonely. He’s alone a lot because people thinks he’s stupid and weird so he doesn’t want you to feel lonely.

- He’ll cuddle you and hold you whenever you want.

- He’ll encourage you to come out of the house with him and do fun things but he won’t push you. If you just need to lay in bed he’ll be there. Giving you kisses and hugs and letting you vent and cry.

- Cry in his arms. He wants to be there for you. He’ll listen.

- If your room is messy he’ll clean it for you. It’ll take him two seconds.

- He’ll help you shower. Wash your body and hair for you. Massaging it thoroughly giving you little kisses here and there.

- He’s not going to let you skip meals. He’ll get you any thing you want from anywhere across the world. Just ask him. He’s more than helpful.

- He’ll encourage you to just take a walk outside with him. Around the block or just in the backyard.

- He’ll try to make you laugh because he loves seeing you smile.

~Billy carried you out of your bed and carried you to the bathroom. He gently helped you strip off your clothes and then helps you into the already filled warm bath water. He left you to get comfortable for a moment. He quickly cleaned your room and threw your bed sheets into the wash. He soon returned to you kneeling down to the bath. “How are you Jellybean?” You respond weakly and lethargic. He nods and begins gently shampooing your hair. If you want silence he’ll understand but he’ll make small talk with you. He’ll ask about how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, or just about a show you two have been watching. Then he’ll lay you back to rinse your hair then move on to conditioner. Then wash your body giving you soft praises as he does, reminding you how much he loves you. When y’all are done he lifts you up in the towel and sits you in a chair as he quickly makes your bed comfortable for you again. Then he helps you dry off and he brushes your hair. He helps you dress, if you want to be in clothes. Then he asks what you want to eat if you tell him you don’t know or aren’t hungry then he’ll just get your favorite. Then you’ll lay in bed together watching whatever garbage is on tv or Disney+ or any other streaming services~

- If you’re self harming, his heart will break.

- He’ll probably cry asking you why.

- He just doesn’t understand why the person he loves so much would hurt themselves.

- Whether you tell him you’re self harming or if he finds out on his own will be two different reactions.

- If you tell him, he’ll thank you for it, and want to talk about it and figure things out with you.

- If he finds out on his own…his heart breaks. He doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell him. He could’ve been helping you.

- He will kiss your scrapes, bruises, burns, scratches, cuts, and/or scars.

- He’ll remind you that you’re beautiful with or without scars and that he’ll still love you even if you make more.

- He wants you to stop but he won’t blame you if you do.

- He wants you to get help but he won’t force you.

- Sometimes he just feels as a lost. He doesn’t know how to help you and it hurts him.

- But he loves you no matter what and will do whatever it takes to make you feel better.

[moodymelanist]

Could you do nessian trapped in an elevator or together in a power outage?

oooooo yeah I sure can. this was supposed to be funny at first but then it got away from me and welp here we are

“Cassian, stop it,” Nesta hissed, shooting him an annoyed look as he jumped up and down in the elevator like a little kid. “I’m serious.”

“Why?” Cassian replied with a wide grin. “You scared?”

Nesta and Cassian were on their way upstairs to celebrate Feyre and Rhys’ engagement in their fancy penthouse apartment. Over her dead body had she wanted it to look like they’d come to the party together, but she hadn’t wanted to be even later than she already was, so she’d swallowed her pride and gotten onto the elevator once he’d held it open for her.

Of course, she was seriously regretting that now that he was acting even more childishly than usual.

“I’m not scared,” she snapped at him. “I’m being sensible.”

“Sounds like you’re scared,” he shot back, still grinning. She hated how handsome that stupid smile made him look. “Come on, Nes. Live a little.”

“Stop calling me that,” she demanded.

“Make me,” he fired back, jumping one last time for good measure.

Nesta opened her mouth to tell Cassian exactly where he could shove it when the elevator made a strange groaning sound. Cassian finally stopped jumping, a slightly worried expression on his face as the elevator shook somewhat, and when the elevator came to an abrupt stop he at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nesta groaned as the lights flickered and then dimmed. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Just push the help button,” Cassian said, taking a few steps forward so he could lean over to hit the red button. “They’ll come quick. You know the wealthy aren’t allowed to suffer for as long as us regular folks.”

He was so warm she could feel the heat radiating off him even though they weren’t touching, and a small part of her missed it as he backed away. A much larger part of her wanted to strangle him for getting them in this situation in the first place, but she’d much rather be trapped in an elevator with a living person. “They better come quickly.”

“Mhmm, I love it when you threaten me,” he said cheekily. She whipped around to glare at him and his delight only grew further. “The things you do to me, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she said back frostily. “My name is Nesta. Not Nes, not sweetheart. Nesta.”

“Guess I’ll just have to get more creative,” he told her, something like challenge gleaming in his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll find something you like eventually.”

Nesta shot another glare his way before someone finally responded on the intercom. Once they got all the details hammered out, she was forced to admit semi-defeat: someone wouldn’t be able to get to them for at least half an hour, so they’d have to entertain themselves until help arrived.

“At least we still have service,” Nesta grumbled, reaching for her phone to let Feyre know what had happened and they’d be upstairs as soon as they were free.

“And each other,” Cassian responded. He pulled out his own phone, fingers flying across the keyboard as he sent his own text, before he sighed and sat down on the ground. “Come on. Come sit with me.”

“I’d rather not,” she told him pointedly. Maybe he didn’t care about the state of his clothes, but she wasn’t showing up to this party with a wrinkle on her if she could help it. “Who knows the last time these floors were cleaned.”

“Not to worry,” he replied, a smirk forming on his full lips as he patted his thigh. “I have a seat for you right here.”

“Get your head out of the gutter,” she snapped, her cheeks heating despite herself. “I wouldn’t come near you if my life depended on it.”

“Ouch. I’m not up to your standards?”

“Your personality certainly leaves much to be desired.”

“Is this you finally admitting that I’m hot?”

“What? Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Nes. It won’t hurt you to admit you think I’m attractive.”

“I don’t have to admit anything.”

“The lady doth protest too much, I think.”

“I’m protesting just the right amount, thank you very much.”

“Look, I’ll even go first so you don’t have to. I think you’re gorgeous.”

Nesta crossed her arms and refused to acknowledge how Cassian’s compliment made her want to preen a little. “Whatever.”

“That’s a weird way to say ‘thank you,’ but okay,” Cassian said. At Nesta’s unimpressed stare, he just sighed and looked at her in exasperation. “Come on, Nesta. As hot as it is looking up at you from down here, I know your feet have to be hurting a little in those shoes. It won’t kill you to sit, will it?”

“Fine,” she finally caved, pulling off her heels and sliding down as gracefully as she could manage onto the floor. She wasn’t sitting right next to him, but they were close enough that she could’ve reached out and touched him if she wanted. “But only because my feet were starting to hurt a little.”

“See? I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” he told her. He wasn’t even gloating; he actually seemed earnest for once, and she hated that she liked it. “So. Tell me about yourself.”

“This isn’t a job interview,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Maybe I just want to learn more about you,” he responded, raising his eyebrows at her. She was sitting close enough to him that she noticed a thin scar running through his right eyebrow, of course only serving to make him more attractive. “You ever think about that?”

“No.” She didn’t have a witty retort better than that, so kept it simple. “Is this just some ploy to force me to ask you questions back?”

“A guy can’t just want to pass the time with conversation?” he asked. “We’re stuck in here until further notice. If we’re not gonna pass the time the old fashioned way, conversation is the next best thing.”

Nesta begrudgingly admitted to herself that Cassian had a point. She decided it wasn’t worth addressing his comment about the old-fashioned way and said, “Fine. But I’m going first.”

“Women should always come first,” Cassian told her with a smirk, “so go right on ahead, sweetheart.”

“Why do you always try to rile me up so much?” she asked, cutting straight to the point.

“Because I like seeing you get all worked up,” he answered. “If you seriously told me to fuck off, I’d stop, but… something tells me you like this just as much as I do.”

“Keep deluding yourself,” she replied, refusing to acknowledge how much she liked the sound of his low laughter.

“I plan to,” he told her with a wink. “If you don’t like it, why do you let me flirt with you so much?”

“You call that flirting?” Nesta fired back, snorting.

“That’s light work,” Cassian retorted just as quickly. He shifted closer to her, their thighs pressing together through the fabric of their clothes. “You couldn’t handle the real deal.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed. She’d seen the way he’d flirted with women in the past, and she hadn’t exactly impressed by the material then.

“Oh yeah?” he asked nonchalantly. Almost too nonchalantly, but she was too invested in seeing what he’d do next to stop him job. “Let me hit you with some of my material, then.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “Do you worst.”

Nesta watched as Cassian studied her openly for a few moments, clearly deciding what he was going to do next. The elevator was quiet except for the sounds of their breathing, and the longer they sat there, the more the anticipation started to build for her. Was he going to be silly, or was he going to take this seriously?

“Hey,” Cassian eventually said, leaning in to tuck a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s a woman like you doing in an elevator like this?”

Nesta wanted to laugh at his lame joke, but suddenly she could hardly breathe from the way he was looking at her. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive, and damn her body for responding like she was going to let him. The air between them was so charged that her heart was beating at a gallop, and when those hazel eyes dipped down to her lips and back a few times in a quick succession, she knew with absolute certainly that he was going to kiss her and that she wanted him to. She wet her lips, more than ready for him to do it, watching in what felt like slow motion as he leaned in and—

And then the elevator suddenly roared back to life.

Nesta felt like she’d been sprayed with cold water as the tension between them snapped. She blinked and jerked back, wondering what the hell had come over her to make her want to kiss Cassian, hardly noticing as his hand awkwardly fell away from her face. She scrambled to stand up and put her shoes back on while steadily avoiding his gaze, the urge to run suddenly overwhelming.

“Nesta—” Cassian began, but then the elevator dinged! as it got to the top of the building and she was halfway down the hallway.

Nesta was absolutely not going to think about what had almost happened inside that elevator, and as she put as much distance between her and Cassian as she could manage, she could’ve sworn she head a soft, disappointed sigh.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing

[ladykailitha]

Nanny au💕

WIP Wednesday!

Just clearing out my inbox! Join me next week!

Other asks here.

Snippet

The problem he was running into was a pool company that hadn’t black listed the address because apparently Ethan liked harassing them, male or female. Asking them to wear skimpy clothes to clean it, putting leaves in the pool so they would have to fish it out with their long nets meaning they would have to lean over a lot, and so on.

Steve was about ready to give up when he found a guy just starting out. He didn’t have any clients yet and was willing to at least take a look at the pool.

He nearly sobbed with relief.

When the man arrived, Steve was pleased to find a well-dressed black man with a shiny new truck and all new equipment. In bright blue lettering on the side of the truck was Sinclair’s Cleaning Service and underneath was a couple of the things they did, like gutters, driveways, gullies, and of course pools.

[someonesrealityshifting]

🤍

Yay! Ask game!

Okay so I’m gonna do this for my Spider-Slice-Of-Life DR (a fluffy spiderverse DR), where my s/o is Miguel (I’m sorry but he’s hot).

🤍: what are your love languages V.S your s/o’s? How do you show theirs and how do they show yours?

My love language is physical touch/words of affirmation. He shows this in the tiniest of ways; holding my hand all the time, playing with my hair, praising tiny things (non kinky get your brain out of the gutter), telling me he loves me all the time. He also lets me do the same for him, letting me call him pretty, letting me draw on his arms and chest, just little things that I can do to touch or hold him. I’ll spend hours just laying on his chest; we don’t have to speak, just being there is enough.

His love language is gift giving/acts of service. I show this by making him food, baking for him, making him little paintings or tiny art projects, helping him clean or sort through things, helping him with paperwork whenever possible. I just do anything that makes him smile, tbh. He shows this by offering me things constantly; any time I’m doing a chore, he offers to help, any time I’m working on something new, he offers to teach me, any time he gets up to go to the bathroom, he offers a snack or a drink or a blanket, anything to say “I love you” without using his words. He also just finds me random little things on missions. One time, he brought me a tiny Spider-Man pin from a street cart and I damn near lost my shit.

[tgammsideblog]

Tgamm S1 Ep 18 ¨Out of House and Home/Home Is Where The Haunt Is¨ episode analysis

After a trip the hospital, the Mcgees find themselves in a very difficult spot when they realize that they could lose their ¨forever¨ home...

When you ask any person from the Tgamm fandom which is the best episode from the series, one of the most likely answers you are going to get is the double part episode 18 ¨Out of House and Home/Home Is Where The Haunt Is¨. And it isn't hard to see why this is the case.

Back when the episode synopses for the last batch of episodes from Season 1 dropped back on May 2022 (last year), a lot of people were surprised by how the show was going to have an episode tackling the cost of the health care american system by the synopsis describing how the Mcgees found themselves in a difficult economic spot after Pete had to be taken to the hospital.

Not that the show wasn't new for these kind of topics. The show was already dealing with characters imitating toxic behaviours from their social environment with Scratch in ¨First Day Frights¨, complicated parent-child relationships (The Best of Nin-tentions) and history and culture in ¨Festival of Lights¨. Still, seeing an animated show aimed for family/general audiences tackling health care and homelessness was very rare to see and still is. Many fans were intrigued about what was going to happen in this episode because of that.

¨Out of House and Home/Home Is Where The Haunt Is¨ could be described as a ¨season finale¨ to almost everything that has happened until Season 1 so far with exception of the Ghost Council Ghost World arc, which is explored in ¨The Jig is Up/ Molly vs The Ghost World¨. Episode 18 acts more as a conclusion to the Brighton arc, and to some extent, Molly and Scratch's relationship from this part of the series.

The story starts with the Mcgees hanging out playing cards. Sharon finds the last box they forgot to unpack when the Mcgee family first moved to Brighton. While they are doing that, Pete listens that someone is on the door and goes to check. It turns out that it is Irving, the street magician, who is offering his services to clean the gutters house for the price of 300 dollars. Pete declines the offer saying that they don't have that ammount of cash and decides to clean the gutters himself. (which are pretty dirty). This is what sets the conflict of the episode both bringing up the Mcgee's economic situation and what later leads to Pete to have an accident.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Mcgees are unpacking the box inside the house. There is a funny moment of Molly asking Scratch to do a drumroll and Scratch hitting his belly like it was a drum. The last thing inside the box is a gift from Grandma Nin from the last time she went to Thailand. Sharon, Molly and Darryl celebrated for ¨officially¨ moving to their forever home, to which Scratch protests that it is ¨his¨ house too. They make Scratch join the group hug as a sign of gratitude, something that he clearly enjoys by saying it is nice. It is a sweet moment that shows how Scratch has become part of the family and returns that affection when it is given to him, feeling more open to be express himself in contrast to the start of the season.

However, this heartwarming moment gets interrupted when they hear Pete scream and falling to the ground from the roof. They notice how he is clearly injured, including having a broken arm. Sharon decides to call for an ambulance to take Pete to the hospital.

One trip to the hospital later, the Mcgees return home with Pete, who has a casted arm and bandaged head. Sharon checks the hospital bill and sees how huge the numbers are. It's too much for what the Mcgee family usually has saved and Sharon panicks over not knowing how to pay the bill.

In that moment Molly proposes to find a way for them to collect all the money: Sharon is going to work triple time on her gigpig job, Darryl is going to sell his plant collection and Molly is going to hold a cupcakes sell at her school. With Sharon being more busy with her job, Scratch offers himself to take care of the house. The rest are surprised by this but notice that the ghost is being serious about it.

This shows that Scratch has grown quite a lot from ¨Game Night¨ episode. In fact, he really shines in this episode: He becomes the ¨mom¨ of the family, preparing the meals for the rest of the Mcgees, cleaning the house and keeping an eye on Pete, who is spend his time resting for his injuries.

There is even a moment Sharon returns late from work, Scratch asks her why she is so late and Sharon accidentally calls him ¨mom¨. What's more, he is sad when Molly and Darryl don't take the time to appreciate the meals he prepared for them and quickly move on to look for more things to sell. It's kind of adorable how he takes of Pete as well, like he was his own baby. There is a scene Pete wakes up and Scratch coos him in his arms to get him to sleep again.

While there are a lot of funny moments in the episode to not make the situation so grim, under all that comedy one can feel how much the Mcgees are struggling with their situation. Such as Sharon having to work all day and Darryl having to sell his plant collection to gain money. They can barely spend time together because they are too busy trying to collect all the money then need to pay the bill.

It goes to a point Scratch is trying to do multiple things at once in the kitchen and breaks down, both mentally and physically (his form breaks down in multiple pieces while moving from one place to the other) and cries.

It's worth of pointing out that this half of the episode doesn't have a clear linear story as it is more to show how the Mcgee family struggles dealing with paying the medical bill and their situation. It shows different moments like them eating together or Molly selling cupcakes at school.

The thing is that this is something a lot of American families struggle with. Medical healthcare is very expensive in United States and not all families are able to afford it because of that. Even things like a trip to the hospital or not that serious injuries can cost a lot of money, which puts people at risk since some may try to avoid going to a doctor because they lack the money to pay just getting seeing a professional.

Near the end of the segment ¨Out of House and Home¨ the Mcgees are able to get all the money to pay the medical bill. They celebrate having reached their goal and the end episode drops... until it gets interrupted by the sound of hammer hitting down a sign, which says that the Mcgees' house is on sale.

Cadance Green, the realtor, explains to the family that they forgot to pay the mortage, and as result, they can't stay in the house. The Mcgees realize that they have to leave their ¨forever home¨.

One thing i want to highlight is how clever the use of the end title drop is, because it first gives you the impression that the problem is solved, and then it subverts your expectations by telling you that, no, the problem wasn't solved and the Mcgees have to leave their home.

The next scene has all the Mcgees with exception of Scratch packing all their things and are about to leave. It's propably the most heartbreaking scene from this season since Molly can't find a way to find a positive side to this and she is crying. Scratch tries to cheer her up, failing at doing so, and promises to her and the rest that he is going to keep buyers away from the house in meantime.

Suddenly Molly hugs Scratch, telling him ¨I love you Scratch¨, making the ghost get all teared up and answer to that with ¨I love you too, Moll¨. It's such a great moment because it is the first time Scratch is shown to be telling this to Molly on screen. Sure, he usually shows it in many other ways but he never said that before.

The Mcgees leave the house while Scratch sees the car move away. He returns to the house attic, now-empty- without Molly's colorful decorations and lights, all empty and dark, just like it was before the Mcgees moved in. Scratch looks how lonely and dark the room is with what is one of the saddest expressions he has had so far, makes himself a bed out of spider web and rests in there, hugging himself, feeling all alone again.

¨Home Is Where The Haunt Is¨ is the segment that follows. It has some plenty of crucial character moments. So i'm going to discuss them by points.

To start with, there is Molly struggling with her new reality of having lost her home and having to camp in the woods. At the start of the episode there is an scene of Pete and Sharon discussing breaking the news to the kids. While Sharon wants to be honest and explain to them what is happening, Pete decides to lie to them and makes up how they still have a month to get the house back.

And you can see that Molly takes quite a lot from her father ¨pretending that everything is fine when it is not¨ type of mentality. She spends most of the episode pretending that everything is fine to Libby and other classmates. In fact, the song sequence involving this struggle is called ¨Everything's Totally Normal¨, and, as the title says, it is about Molly joining to different school clubs to distract herself and Libby from her current situation. In contrast to the song from ¨Ready, Set, Snow!¨, this song sequence sends an uncomfortable feeling since it is Molly trying to hide what is happening to her family and having what mental breakdown that 13 years old would have in this type of situation.

What really hits of Molly avoiding telling others of her situation is that it isn't rare for people and families who are homeless to keep going to work or school while pretending that is nothing is happening to them. They continue with their daily routines without other people ever noticing that they are homeless.

While all this is happening, Scratch tries to keep people away from buying the house. He has some funny interactions with Candace Green. Some of the tricks he pulls are visually entertaining to watch, like when he posesses an entire wall to scare a person off. However, there is one family-who is clearly inspired by the Addams family-that doesn't get scared of Scratch and thinks that their baby is going to enjoy hanging out with him. This leads to one of creepiest and darkest jokes in the show with the baby pressing against their mother's womb, making Scratch back away terrified of them.

Despite some funny moments in between, ¨Home Is Where The Haunt Is¨ segment is a more serious in tone in contrast to ¨Out of House and Home¨. It really drives home how bad the issue the Mcgees are facing is. It's probably the most emotional episode from Season 1, are for a good reason.

The scene that follows has Andrea hanging out with her father in woods talking about how he is going to do an investment in the place. When walking around the place for a bit, Andrea finds out that Molly and her family are camping in the woods, she is very shocked by the Mcgees's current state but decides to avoid bringing it up much and instead walks away, telling Molly that she looking forward to see her in the geode club next week. Molly tries to go after Andrea but she is interrupted by Scratch, who tells the Mcgees that the house is about to get sold to another family. Molly doesn't know what to do, so Scratch tells them that he has a last trick on his sleeve while laughing evilly-cutting to him ugly crying in front of Candace Green begging her to not sell the house.

Leaving the comedy timing aside, this is a very important moment for Scratch. He talks about how before meeting the Mcgees, the house was ¨dark, lonely and full of spiders¨ and how he was completely alone but once the Mcgees moved in, they made the house a home for him. This feeling of not having friends nor somewhere to belong to is something that was left very clear about Scratch without him having to say it. However, this is the first time he is very open about how the Mcgees have become his family and how much he misses them with them living in the woods.

Candace feels sorry for Scratch and decides to give the family a last change to ¨say goodbye¨ to their home.

While Mcgees are seeing their house one last time, a montage of different scenes from the season plays, all involving important moments taking place in the building.

Suddenly there is a knock in the front door, Sharon opens it thinking it is the realtor, only to find out many Brightonians that they have helped in previous episodes are here. Libby explains to Molly that her family has done so much to help Brighton all this time, that they came to help the Mcgees the moment they learned about the their' problem.

This is a fantastic way of showing the impact Molly and her family has had on Brighton and all those episodes about them helping and getting to know these people coming back in this episode. It goes to show that the Brightonians and their lives are as important as the Mcgees are to the series. In addition to this, it really fits with the whole theme of helping and connecting with your own community and how people can come together to fix a problem, with all what the Mcgees have been doing coming back to help them.

Molly wonders how they all learned about their problem with the house. That's when Andrea approches Molly and tells her that she used her social media to make a campain and raise enough money to help them get their house back. She did this because she considers Molly her ¨best friend¨ for the time they made a movie together (Hooray for Mollywood!) and Molly saved her from the campain selling fraud (The Don't Gooder). It isn't hard to tell that Andrea doesn't have the best idea of what a normal friendship is and Molly is likely the real first friend she has had in a while. In spite of this, she appreciated Molly being nice to her in (The Don't Gooder) and decided to return her the favor when she noticed her living in the woods earlier in the episode. Overall, is great moment of character evolution for Andrea and it changes her dynamic with Molly, now being in friendlier terms with her.

In the last scene the Mcgees move back to their home, not having to worry about having to camp in the woods anymore. Scratch says that ¨now it feels like home again¨. Then Molly thinks for a moment and brings up to Scratch how the curse has been broken (since they had to leave the house for a while) and wonders what he is going to do now that they aren't longer bonded together. Scratch looks nervous for a moment and then lies about how the curse is still there. He asks Molly to summon him, to which she does and Scratch pretends to be summoned (something that Molly can see it is a lie) and tells Molly that he ¨isn't going anywhere¨. The episode ends with the two hugging each other, leaving clear that the Mcgees have become Scratch's home and he finally has a place to belong.

In conclusion: ¨Out of House and Home/Home Is Where The Haunt Is¨ is a special episode that deals with some difficult topics, like medical healthcare and homelessness. It lets all the main and recurrent characters have a moment to shine, resulting in one of the most emotional moments in the show. It has an excellent payoff for the ¨Molly/Brighton arc¨ of this season, with all coming back in a full circle for the Mcgees. Another important aspect is that it shows how much Molly and Scratch's dynamic has grown during the season and how fond Scratch has grown of the Mcgees. Really leaving this clear by one of the most emotional endings for an episode. In all, it is a beautifully written story and the best from this season.

[mykneeshurt]

Don’t fear the Reaper - Ghost x F!OC part 7

Warnings - descriptions of violence, COD typical violence, swearing, we made it to some smut lads, wax play, knife play, fingering, orgasm denial

———-

It was a stormy night, rain lashed down around you, the night was black with lightening illuminating the sky. The mission on the oil rig went as well as it could have, aside from you nearly getting knocked out by a rouge crate that drifted in time with the waves. Soap and Graves managed to redirect the missile back onto the rig, destroying it. A job well done.

Sitting in between Soap and Ghost in the jeep you approached Alejandro’s compound. You could already feel the warm shower, clean clothes over your skin and a pillow under your head. Resting your head on the brim of the seat you couldn’t remember the last time you craved a shower so much. Lost in your thoughts you initially didn’t even notice the jeep come to a halt outside the gates.

Ghost nudged you, nodding towards Graves, who had exited his vehicle. Shadows slowly crowding him. ‘What’s going on?’ You asked, puzzled. Soap shrugged before climbing out into the rain. Alejandro quickly followed approaching Graves ‘what’s this?’

‘This is the immediate future, step away from the gate.’

Climbing out of the jeep you shared confused looks with Soap and Ghost. ‘What?’ Soap asked, disbelief evident in his voice. Graves stood his ground ‘you heard me.’

‘Are you crazy? This is my base?’ Alejandro was confused, unsure of what the fuck was going on.

Grave lowered his gun and looked around ‘it’s not a base, it’s a sizeable covert facility and I admire it … so I’m taking it.’ You shot your eyes to Ghost, he returned the concerned look. You were stood behind Soap and Alejandro, the hairs on the back of your neck erect. Graves continued ‘ya’ll have been relieved. Thank you for your service.’

Alejandro, visibly seething now took a step towards Graves ‘no, no, no. I don’t take order from you.’

‘Didn’t Valeria say that? Now, that makes me wonder what else I don’t know about your affiliation with a drug lord.’

‘What the fuck did you just say to me pandejo?’ Alejandro took a few steps towards Graves, but Soap grabbed his shoulder. Trying to de-escalate him ‘you’re outta line Graves.’

He took a step back ‘don’t do that. Don’t. Do that. No one needs to get hurt here.’

‘Are you threatening us?’ Ghost asked calmly, meaning he was furious. Graves turned his gaze towards Ghost ‘solider I don’t make threats, I make guarantees. So let’s not do this.’

Soap turned ‘Im calling general Shepherd.’ The next sentence out of Graves mouth made your blood freeze. ‘General Shepherd sends his regards.’

What happened next was a blur, ‘I fucking knew you were a snake Graves’ you spat at him. Alejandro launched himself at him, his head soon made acquaintances with the butt of a gun. Two Shadows tried to corner Ghost but he was too fast for them, knocking one out and throwing a knife at another. Soap got shot in the arm, you went to help but bullets started raining fire very direction. Ghost pulled you behind the jeep ‘run Reaper. Fucking run.’

The look in his eyes told you not to argue, sprinting from behind the jeep you bounded over the concrete block that separated the road from the forest. You ran and ran until your lungs hurt, until they gave out. You heard more gun shots behind you, your stomach fell. Weaving in and out of trees you followed the dull glow of the lights in front of you.

Eventually you found yourself in Las Almas, water cascading down the street as gutters overflowed. You were soaked through, your black base layer and tactical vest saturated. Looking around you could hear distant screams and cries of the local people. Switching on your radio you listened as you heard Graves giving an order to kill every civilian. To find you. To find 141.

You crept your way through the small and winding streets, intermittently flitting between radio stations incase anyone made contact. Rounding one of the corners you saw Shadows ahead, halting you instantly. They had a young couple in front of them, guns raised, fear written all over their faces. You body tensed, heart beating faster and faster, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

You watched as the Shadows pulled the trigger. Ruby liquid painting the wall behind them as their lifeless bodies fell to the floor. Clasping your hand over your mouth you barely stopped the shriek of shock that burst through you. The two Shadows spun on their heel catching you lurking in the shadows. Guns raised once more they took aim and fired at you. Ducking the bullets hit the brick walls, rubble exploding from the impact.

Crouching behind a car in the street you waited for them to come to you. Managing to get behind the one you jumped on his back, slamming your knife into his neck. Again and again. Pulling the knife out, blood spurted over your face, the warm liquid soon turning cold and congealed. As he fell to the floor you threw the knife into the others thigh, incapacitating him.

As he dropped you tackled him to the ground, landing on his chest. Raising your fist you slammed it into his cheek, over and over. You pummelled his face, complete and utter hatred and fury driving the full force of your knuckles into his face. His skin ripped open with every punch, blood coated your hands but that only spurred you on. The crack of his cheek bone rang in your ears, before the pop of his nose as you broke it. Pure unfiltered rage poured out of your soul, your body hurt, bile sat teasing the brim of your throat.

The Shadows face soon resembled nothing more than putty, blood, muscle, teeth. Leaning over his mangled face you screamed. You screamed until your vocal chords snapped from the pressure, the tension. Fists clenched together, you punched the floor, shaking as all energy drained from you. Still leaning over the body you tried to regulate your breathing. In and out. Slowly. Calmly. You tried to focus on the rain, the pattering of the rain on the clay tile roofs. How the water moulded to your face, dripping down your nose.

When you finally felt calm enough you managed to stand. Knees still wobbly but firm enough to hold your weight. A few streets over you noticed an impressive church looming over the horizon. A perfect place to hold up. Keeping to the shadows you scurried through the darkness towards the church.

——-

Hoisting yourself over the church gate you pushed open the creaky door. It was silent inside. The stone walls muffling the screams that echoed from outside. You could shut off from a lot of things, but screaming civilians wasn’t one of them. Finding a secluded candle lit room you squeezed yourself into a corner facing the door. You sat crossed legged, knees cradled into your chest as you placed your hands over your ears.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat there, rocking slightly. The swaying motion grounded you, calmed you. Not being able to bring yourself to turn on the radio. Eyes fixed on the door in front of you. How had it gone to shit so quickly?

A shadow against the wall pulled your mind from its protected bubble, instantly snapping back into a hyper vigilant state. Slowly standing you hid behind the door, clutching at your knife. The heavy foot steps got closer and closer, floor boards creaking under the weight.

The door moved slightly, before you could register who it was you pounced on them wielding your knife. You were fast. But they were faster. Grabbing your tactical vest the stranger slammed you into the floor. ‘Fuckin hell Reaper! It’s me!’ A familiar cockney accent washed over you. Instantly relaxing you threw your arms around his neck ‘SIMON!’ A huge smile broke out across your face, as you pulled him close.

He pulled back searching your face your pain, thankfully finding none. You weren’t sure what came over you, the adrenaline, the anxiety, the panic but what ever it was spurred you on. Pulling at his neck you placed your lips on his mask, he froze slightly. Feeling him freeze you pulled back, eyes wide with regret. ‘Fuck, I … sorry.’

Cupping your face he ran this gloved thumb over your trembling lip. His eyes fixated on your lips he snatched his mask from his face, throwing it to the side. He crashed his lips into yours, finally giving in to his primal desires. You had no time to take in his face before he kissed you. Moaning into his mouth you hitched your thigh around his waist. Hands furiously grasping at his hair, pulling him closer to you.

His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, forcing entry into your mouth. The kiss was messy, firm and sloppy. The tension finally being released. You nipped his bottom lip causing him to buck his hips. Pulling back he swallowed ‘fuckin hell.’ Biting your lip you arched your back pulling him back to your lips ‘touch me Simon.’

‘Mmm not yet love, got something else in mind.’ You cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. He slowly unclipped your tactical vest pulling it off you. He ran his hands up your torso, feeling every inch of you. Taking off his gloves he ran his hands up your body again, but under your top this time. His calloused hands felt electric on your skin. He squeezed your ribs, causing you to moan softly. Exactly as he imagined, as he wanted. Pulling off your top he trailed kisses over your chest and onto your collar bone.

The radio cracked to life Soaps voice penetrating the atmosphere. Rolling your eyes you let out a frustrated sigh, you reached for your top but Ghost stopped you. ‘Soap how copy?’ He ran his hand over your breasts, tweaking your nipples firmly. ‘Johnny?’ Silence. Chewing on his lip he asked again ‘Johnny how copy?’ He bent down to your neck, nipping at the skin. ‘Solid’ Soap eventually replied. He slid his hand down to your cunt, the sudden friction causing a moan to drip from your mouth. ‘Shhhhh’ he warned.

‘Thought we’d lost yah’ he smiled, in awe at your body beneath him. ‘You injured?’ He asked him, a flash of concern on his face. ‘I’m good’ Soap groaned. Feeling satisfied he released his radio, still straddling you. He reached over for the lit candle that illuminated the room. You watched as he held the candle above your bare skin, a drop of wax fell onto you. You hissed through clenched teeth, as he let more wax drip, drenching your pearly white skin in a black coat of wax.

Each drop stung but in the most pleasurable way, each burn made your cunt clench. Your breath getting trapped in your throat as you writhed on the floor beneath him. ‘I’m at the church, let’s RV there. You’ll have to improvise to survive now Johnny.’ He smirked again as he let a particularly large drop of wax fall onto your breast. You fought back a moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He repeated the cycle, making comments to Soap as he let the wax burn into your skin. Silencing you. ‘I fucking hate you’ you gasped in between their conversation. Placing his lips next to your ear he whispered ‘no you don’t love, I think you like this, such a dirty bitch.’ You bit your lip at the degradation, he sounded so good as he made you feel pathetic.

Once you were covered in an amount of wax he felt acceptable he pulled out his knife. Placing it on your collar bone he pushed it into your skin gently, your breath rapidly increasing. You’d completely zoned out of the conversation he was having with Soap, only picking up the odd sentence.

‘Speak English McTavish.’

‘What do you call a dog with two legs … half a dog.’

‘We’re teammates Johnny.’

‘Get us a tea.’

Using the knife he pulled it along your skin, scraping the wax off your body. Muttering praises against your skin, ‘so gorgeous’ he whispered. As he scraped off the wax you felt your panties becoming sodden. Your clit throbbing as you tried to roll your hips against the seam on your trousers. ‘You look so fucking good love.’ Pressing the knife against your throat a guttural moan of pleasure ripped from your throat. ‘Eyes on me’ he barked.

Snapping your eyes to his your mouth fell open, ‘Simon please I need you fuck me, I can’t take anymore.’ You tried to reach down to your clit to release some of the pressure, but he grabbed your wrist pinning it above your head. ‘No.’

‘Simon please’ it was a sob, you needed him, all of him. He watched as your eyes became glassy, tears threatening to fall from the cerulean depths that looked up at him. He loved seeing you beg beneath him, needy and fragile. ‘No love, I want to take my time with you.’

You couldn’t name the emotion you felt, but it was intense, all consuming. Pouting like a child you threw your hands over your face, clawing at your skin at the feeling of denial. Ghost smirked as he cupped your face, kissing you once more. Melting into the kiss you bucked your hips up to meet his, chasing the friction once more. ‘So needy’ he growled, he snaked his hand down to your trousers. Slipping his hands to greet your needy wet cunt. He bit his lip feeling how wet you were for him, ‘bloody hell love, fuckin soaking.’ He ran his finger down your slit, causing you to whimper against his lips.

He pressed into your clit, a forced moan from the back of your throat fell into his mouth. He watched as your pupils burst with pleasure as you clawed at his neck. It didn’t take much you felt the orgasm already teetering on the edge. Thrusting two fingers into your pussy he felt your walls constrict around him. ‘Steady, not yet’ he whispered smiling into your mouth. You could taste his devilish smile against your lips. ‘Simon … fuck, please … I can’t …’ you were breathless, chasing oxygen to fill your deprived lungs.

‘No no no’ he repeated, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb. ‘I’m near the flooded tunnels’ Soaps voice rang out once more. Grinning he removed his fingers, placing them in his mouth, sucking off your juices. ‘Looks like our time is up love. Better get dressed.’ Feeling the sudden emptiness you laughed, feeling delirious. Your orgasm being completely denied.

Ghost stood sliding on his gloves and mask once more, he watched as you led on the floor staring at the ceiling. ‘You’re a fucking prick’ you laughed in disbelief. Snorting he held out a hand to help you up placing a masked hiss on your forehead. You threw on your top and tactical vest desperately trying to snap back to reality. But your head was swimming, so many emotions that you didn’t understand. Tipping your chin up he caressed your cheek, tender and caring. ‘Soon.’

Prick.

————

Taglist - @sashadiurnal @bugwritesstuff @iamnotyourmusebitch @stripeycatt

[hakugreenfinch]

Iggy the Stray Dog - ch2 (1/2)

Author: Otsuichi

Original concept: Araki Hirohiko

Originally published: JOJO Magazine 2022 Spring

*** This is a fan translation made purely for entertainment. Please do not repost/reuse/etc without my permission and credit! ***

Note: Since the next three chapters are very long and I don't want to keep you waiting forever, I decided to split them up into 2-3 parts. Thank you for your patience, I'm super excited to deliver the rest of this short novel!

Manhattan Island is located at the mouth of the Hudson river. It is four kilometers in width, twenty kilometers in length, a sandbank elongated in a north-south direction. Navigator Henry Hudson discovered it in 1609 and it is said that the Dutch East India Company purchased it from Native Americans for 24 dollars in 1626. Its name Manhattan translates to „the island of many hills” in their language.

The morning after my arrival, the air is still clouded by yellow. White steam rises from the gutters all over. I buy a toasted sandwich at a corner store to eat. Crispy bacon and fresh lettuce are held between fragnant bread.

I take the subway on my way to the city center to participate in the „stray dog hunt”. Passing ticket control and ascending the stairs, I find myself in a desolate place. It is a district with empty bear cans lying around and closed shutters of shops bearing graffiti. On one side stands a brick building, the ground floor offices of which belong to a company specializing in pest extermination.

Its name is Reliable Pest Control Services, or RPCS for short. In addition to pest control, they undertake everything from vermin extermination and cleaning up buildings to waste management. At this time, the Speedwagon Foundation has contacted the manager, requesting their help capturing Iggy in exchange for financial support.

As I state the purpose of my visit at the reception desk, a large, middle-aged Spaniard shows up. His stern face looks like it was carved from stone, and three vertical lines run down across his right eye – they seem to be claw marks.

„You’re Avdol, right? The chief told me about you. So you wanna catch that damn Boston Terrier?”

„My American friend has entrusted me with this request.”

„I’ll let you watch, just make sure you’re not bothering us!”

„All right. For now, I would like to study your work. I won’t intervene or disturb you, I’ll just watch from a distance.”

„Admirable attitude, Egyptian.”

The Spaniard leads me inside the office. It is like a labyrinth of miscellaneous packages piled up on top of each other with desks, blackboards, a billiard table, a darts board and empty liquor bottles in the gaps between them. On an old sofa set, four men are gathered, exhaling cigarette smoke and playing poker.

„These guys are my team,” introduces them the Spaniard. The men put down their cards, turning their gazes to me, as if to observe me.�� They all have vulgar faces. One of them clicks his tongue, putting out the cigarette he’s been smoking on an ashtray. He is a large, white man resembling a rugby player.

„So you’re the Foundation’s buddy? The chief told us if we keep an eye out for you the Speedwagon Foundation would pay us a nice sum. But y’know, this is a lot of extra work for us.”

„I will not bother you. All I wish is to stand by and watch your work from a distance, to see how the dog could be captured. I don’t believe that would increase your work at all.”

„You coming with us means you’ll be taking up a seat in the car. We’ll have to take less equipment like that!”

They are going to drive to Manhattan Island in two cars, one of them a van equipped with dog cages. The space in the vehicles is crammed with all sorts of nets and traps, tranquilizer guns and such. It appears that with my participation, they can load a lot less into the cars. The Spaniard tries to calm down the man.

„Hey, don’t say that. It’s not like animal traps are any good against that Boston Terrier, we’d be bringing them for nothing.” He pulled me away from the men. „They’re just pissed because that shitty dog got the best of them.”

„What do you mean by animal traps?”

„Cages you can’t leave once you’re caught in them, like bear traps. You know bear traps, right? Like the Gustave Courbet painting, „Fox caught in a trap”? The iron trap that the fox’s leg is stuck in. But no such trap can catch that Boston Terrier, they were useless even with his favourite coffee chewing gum inside. I don’t know how but he just ran away with the chewing gum, without triggering the trap.”

A map hangs on the wall, the places where Iggy have been spotted marked on it. He has been seen all over Manhattan. Wall Street, Times Square, he even seems to be frequenting the ferry to Liberty Island with the Statue of Liberty.

„I made some posters with his image and put them up all over Manhattan. I wrote on it that we’ll reward anyone that has any news, so we got some information from the citizens.”

He shows me an actual poster. Drawn on it is a foolish image of a Boston Terrier, drool dripping from his mouth.

„The claw marks on your face, was that also him?”

„A while ago we tried strike him down when he was taking a nap. We got a report and when we rushed there, he was basking in the sun, snoring like hell. I decided to shoot him with a tranquilizer gun from a distance. As I pointed the gun at him and aimed, he woke up but didn’t try to run away. He saw us and yawned without a care in the world. I pulled the trigger and a tranquilizer dart shot out. My aim was sure, no doubt about it.”

However, the dart didn’t hit its target. It flipped midair in front of the Boston Terrier, just as if it was being blocked by something invisible.

„I dunno why. Maybe it was a faulty dart, it changed its direction in the middle of its track. We had to try and catch him with a net, but that damn dog jumped up and scratched my face. He tore out some of my hair and farted once before escaping us. It’s a mystery what he ate that made him fart like that but it was putrid.”

I’m thinking about the invisible thing that was said to have deflected the tranquilizer dart. There was no way the dart was faulty. They couldn’t see it. Something invisible was present before Iggy and it protected him. I have a pretty good idea what that mysterious something could have been.

A bell’s sound echoes in the RPCS office. The staff member from the reception desk at the front entrance calls out to us. The men playing poker stand, leaving the room running.

„Where are you going?”

„The locker room. We’re changing into work clothes and leaving. Tha bell only rings when we get news of someone seeing that damn Boston Terrier. If we don’t hurry, he’ll get away!”

In a matter of minutes, they all finish changing into grey work clothes, getting inside both cars in the garage. I myself accompany them, getting inside the van carrying the cages. The van is driven by a slim, young Black man. The Spaniard sits in the passenger’s seat and I take my place behind them.

„The phone call came from someone living near the Harlem River, they saw that shitty Boston Terrier stealing chewing gum” says the Spaniard, folding out a map to check the route. The two cars take off, rushing towards the area facing Harlem River.

Inside the hurling car, I am debating whether I should tell the man with the strict face sitting before me that the Boston Terrier actually has a name. In the end, I decide not to do so. They wouldn’t care too much for what the dog’s name is anyway.

***

The north-eastern parts of Manhattan are mostly inhabited by immigrants. Most of the people passing us by are Puerto Rican or Mexican, the majority of the conversations I overhear are in Spanish. Many brown mansions stand by the riverside. The city of New York built these for low income citizens and they refer to them as a „project”. There are nearly 2900 of these „projects” in New York City, with roughly 420,000 people inhabiting them. Some apartments are used for drug trafficking, they are a hotbed for crime.

The stray dog hunting team gets out of the vehicles parking on the roadside and sets out looking around the neighborhood. I decide to stick with the Spaniard. First of all, he wants to meet and talk to the person reporting the dog.

The Spaniard approaches a young man of Latin American descent standing by a payphone on a street corner. He smells like marijuana.

„You’re the guys looking for the Boston Terrier, right?”

„Yeah. Can you tell us what you saw?”

„It was just now, like thirty minutes ago. A weird dog came out of that supermarket over there, it was eating something. The store clerk ran after it but it got away. It was black and white. I thought it was a French Bulldog but it had a slim body so I figured it was a Boston Terrier. I called the number from a poster when I saw that.”

The young man rubs his index finger and thumb together in a gesture of requesting his reward. The Spaniard hands him a couple of bank notes but he doesn’t seem impressed.

„Hey, this isn’t even enough for a beer!”

„If you have more info, I’ll give you more.”

The Spaniard sends the young man away and sets off in the direction of said supermarket. It is a small store standing in a dirty, graffiti-covered alleyway.      I call it a supermarket but it is nothing more than a private business, with colourful vegetables on its racks that look fresh and delicious. The store clerk, a fat Black woman, is standing there with a troubled look on her face. The Spaniard calls out to her.

„We heard a Boston Terrier stole some of your merchandise, is that true?”

„Yeah, just look at this!” she beckons. The Spaniard’s work clothes have the logo of his company embroidered, she must know he’s an expert of vermin extermination. Right as we step inside the supermarket we find a candy shelf. The goods have been stolen from it and the empty shelf is sticky with a clear liquid dripping off of it. „It’s just like ’Alien’, isn’t it? The movie. Have you seen it? The monster was drooling just like this.”

The store clerk furrows her brows. The Spaniard takes out a ballpoint pen from his chest pocket, picking up some of the liquid with its end and examining its viscosity and smell.

„It’s drool. Those shelves had coffee flavour chewing gum on them, am I right?”

„Exactly! A small black and white dog devoured it right here. I tried to catch it but it picked up the entire box and ran off. I reported it to the police as well, just in case, but I’m surprised to see that you guys showed up! Then again, there’s so much crime on these streets, the police must be very busy.”

Leaving the store, the Spaniard gets in touch with his men. Each of them carries a transceiver, making it possible to exchange information between each other so long as they are within a couple kilometers radius.

I decide to investigate our surroundings as well. I move through dirty alleyways scattered with trash, looking for a Boston Terrier.

The wind carries the stench of alcohol and urine. It is probably drunks standing in the alleys and taking a piss. A row of cars stand parking on the roadside. It is a lonely street with no people or cars passing by.

Someone from our team is questioning a vagrant, holding the handle of a large net. It is the white man that complained to me in the office and reminded me of a rugby player. It seems like his work clothes were about to burst with his muscles.

„Didn’t you see a dog around here? A small, black and white one. It has a short snout and it farts a lot.”

The vagrant our rugby player is looking down to is an elderly man, leaning back onto a building’s wall as he’s sitting on the ground. He put down a piece of cardboard to make his sitting place more comfortable. His mouth seems to be mumbling something in response to the rugby player’s question, however he can’t form his words properly, having lost all his teeth.

„There... right there...” The vagrant’s words come in fragments. He points a finger at the wall right across the street. I turn to the rugby player.

„I believe this old man is pointing us to around there.”

The rugby player glances at me, turning his gaze to where the vagrant is pointing.

„There’s nothin’ there. Nothin’ strange. Not a Boston Terrier, not a place where a small dog could hide.”

„But this old man is trying to bring our attention to something.”

On the other side of the line of parking cars is nothing but old brick buildings, lined up without so much as a crevice between them. The vagrant is pointing at one of those walls.

The rugby player shakes his head.

„That’s just a wall. We asked the wrong guy. Maybe he’s hallucinating!”

The vagrant, however, keeps on murmuring.

„...weird... how...? It’s gone... I don’t...”

I decide to walk across to the other side of the road.

„Hey, Egyptian! Don’t just do whatever you like! Come back here!” I hear the rugby player’s voice but I ignore him.

I approach the wall the vagrant is pointing to, and trailed a finger along it. Its surface is just slightly damp, but also coarse. It is probably the speckles of sand dancing in the wind that stick to it.

„Hey! Egyptian!”

An odd sense of discomfort comes over me. My finger tracing the wall gets caught in the corner of a brick, which then quickly crumbles. As I try to apply some force, my hand sinks into the brick wall.

„H-hey... what’s that?!”

What we thought to be a brick wall crumbles into sand. It collects into large heaps under my feet and a small alleyway appears on its other side. It looks like there isn’t a crevice between the buildings but in reality, they aren’t stuck together at all. It simply appeared so because the sand’s fine imitation made it look like they were lined up continuously. The vagrant likely found it odd that the alleyway that was supposed to be there disappeared, and tried to bring it to our attention.

Sand speckles dance around me from the collapse. When my vision clears, I realize something is hiding in the dim depths of the alleyway. It is small, small enough for me told hold in my hands.

He is chewing on something very, very loudly. He must have been hiding himself right here all along, creating a fake wall with sand.

„Is that you, Iggy?”

The moment I call his name, the chewing noises stop.

A pair of eyes appears in the dim light. I see the whites of them clearly. Apparently he still remembers his name being ’Iggy’. His self-awareness has him reacting to me calling his name.

Someone grabs my shoulder from behind with great force. It is the rugby player.

„Hey, hey, hey! There he is! I thought it was sand dancing, but there’s a street there now?  Looks like a dead end, so I guess he’s got no choice but to come over here, huh?” He fixes the net in his hands and takes off in the alley’s direction.

„Hey, wait!”

In response to the rugby player approaching him, he gets up on his four legs in the dark. His form is that of a small dog’s, but something is manifesting behind him.

The speckles of sand in the alley rise up, defying gravity, gathering in one place, taking shape seemingly too big to even fit the narrow alleyway behind the dog.

However, the rugby player doesn’t see it. It is a projection of life energy that regular people are unable to detect. Before his eyes, there is nothing but a single small dog.

He charges towards Iggy with his net. The giant behind Iggy moves, picking him up and jumping, scattering sand as it tramples the rugby player. The moment he hits the ground, it rushes out of the narrow alley. Its large body leaps over the line of parking cars with ease.

As it appears in a vast and well-lit place, I can take a good look at it in its entirety. The giant holding Iggy has the appearance of a dog with wheels. Its two front legs are dog-like, but its hind legs are missing, sporting car wheels in their place. On its head it wears feathers resembling Native American ornaments. It is a form blending machinery and organic life, scattering speckles of sand from its entire body.

A Stand. That is what I and my American friend referred as to such entities. Something standing by one’s side like a guardian. This must be the reason behind the odd sand related episodes happening around Iggy.

Stands do not possess a physical body. It is more like Iggy’s guardian. Some would call it a visualization of his psychic powers, others might even claim it as an evil spirit.

Iggy exchanges a glance with me, carried by his own Stand, then turns away as if he’s lost interest in me already. His Stand that leapt over cars so easily rotates its wheels, dashing away on the streets.

The rugby player stands up from where he fell on the ground and calls for assistance with his transceiver.

„He-he’s here! The Boston Terrier! Come right away!” He tries to chase after Iggy instantly, but he fails. The huge mass of sand that until just now has been forming a wall is now covering the ground. Before I could have noticed, it all centered on me. The sand swallows me up to the knee and firmly hardens. Without a doubt this is Iggy’s doing. Pulling as hard as I can, I free my legs but he has already disappeared behind a corner.

„Shit... don’t let him get away!”

The rugby player runs off, and I follow him.

[anguilliforme]

Bushfire / Wildfire preparation and survival (long post)

Because of climate change, we will be facing increasingly difficult fire seasons not just for this year, but for what I can only assume will be every year from here on out. While I fully recommend contacting your local fire services to find information most helpful to you, here is a list of general advice for bush/wildfire preparation and survival. This list will cover:

General things you should know before preparing for fire season

Pre fire season preparation

Your evacuation kit

What to do on fire risk days

What to do if you choose to evacuate

What to do when you evacuate too late and your car is about to be caught in the fire

What to do if you choose to stay and defend your home

Firefighting tools

How to defend your home from a fire

What to do as the fire front approaches

What to do if your home catches on fire while you're in it

No house no car no evacuation centre- best places to use as emergency shelter

I am Australian so I will be using the word "bushfire" because that is what I am familiar with, please feel free to replace it with wildfire or whatever your local term is. Information is taken from the CFA, Fire TAS, and the NSW rural fire service but please check with your local fire authorities for the best information for your area.

General things that you should know:

You don't have to be in the middle of nowhere to be at risk for a fire. If you are located near paddocks, grasslands, costal scrub, or if your neighbourhood borders bushland (or woodlands/forests for my non aussie friends) you can be at risk.

Familiarise yourself with your local fire danger rating system (FDRS) I can not stress this enough. Go on your local fire services website now and look it up. I will be using the Australian FDRS as a reference because it is what I am most familiar with. It looks like this:

You should understand what your local FDRS levels are, because they are extremely important tool for communicating the possible severity of fires, and can help you make important decisions on how you should act.

You should also familiarise yourself with your local wind patterns. You would be surprised by how many people die in bushfires because they are unfamiliar with wind change patterns and get caught out.

Pre fire season preparation- your house

Prepare your property! This is basic fire safety, and most people who live rural will be familiar with the motions but for those who aren't in the know:

Keep the grass in your lawn cut to 10cm (4in) or less. Rake your lawn so there aren't loose leaves or twigs in the grass. Clean your gutters while you're at it.

Store any wood piles and flammable liquids away from your house (put it in a shed or any building that isn't attached to your house).

Cut back any trees that are overhanging your roofs. Generally you want 10m (or 33ft) of clearance. Prune the lower branches of shrubs to separate them from any possible fuel underneath them.

Line your garden beds with pebbles instead of mulch, if you have any shrubs or bushes under windows get rid of them.

Evacuation kit

You should have an evacuation kit ready to go during fire season. This is different for every individual but here are a few things that should go into it:

Scan all of your important documents (birth certificates, wills, passports, drivers licences, insurance documents, etc) and put them on a USB. Put this in your kit alongside the documents.

Your medication. Your prescription paperwork if it is not digital.

Portable chargers for your devices.

A battery-operated radio (check the batteries regularly).

100% wool blankets. Enough for everybody in your household to be fully covered. Do not pack anything synthetic. These blankets need to be accessible if you are travelling by car so do not pack them in the bottom of any bags.

"Bushfire fits", clothing that is either wool, heavy cotton, or denim. Once again, no synthetic fabrics. Shoes should be leather boots and not sandals or runners. There needs to be enough to clothe everyone in your household.

If you have pets you need to have their carriers, medication, food/water and bowls ready.

You should also have food and (more importantly) water for yourself and everyone in your household ready to go should you need to evacuate.

Other pre fire season preparation things

Practice packing your car at least once so you know exactly how long it will take you to get ready if you do end up needing to leave.

Talk with your neighbours. If you can't drive they might be able to drive you, if they're staying they may be willing to help defend your house if you let them use your water. You'll never know if you don't ask.

You need to talk with the people in your household and decide whether you will stay to defend your home from the fire or evacuate. If you want to evacuate you need to agree on which FDRS danger level you will evacuate on, or what your trigger to leave will be.

If you will leave, decide ahead of time how you will leave and where you will go. In a fire, phone services ay go down; have a physical map that shows not only your main evacuation route, but also your backup ones. Have these clearly marked.

On fire risk days

Stay informed. Listen to your local radio and use more than one source of information if available. You want to know if a fire starts near you.

If you have a deck or verandah with mats or furniture on it, move them away from your house. Hanging pots need to go too.

If you have a car behind an electric gate or garage door take it out and have the car facing the road ready to go.

Ensure your evacuation kit is ready to go. Make sure that everyone is aware of the evacuation trigger and has agreed to leave.

If you choose to evacuate

Leaving early is always the safest option. Many things can be replaced, but your life can't. This is the official stance of the Australian government. Leaving early (as in, before the fire even starts) will prevent any issues being caught in your car during a bushfire can bring. You do not want to drive through heavy smoke, and you do not want to accidentally block roads for emergency services.

Make sure everybody is in their bushfire fits, even if you can't see the fire. Better safe than sorry.

Turn off your home's gas and (if you have the time) plug your downpipes and fill your gutters partially with water.

Close and lock all of your doors and windows.

Leave your front gate open.

Tell somebody that you are leaving, and where you are leaving to.

Late evacuation- my car is about to be hit by fire

If you evacuate late there is a chance you may find that you are unable to drive safely due to smoke or flames. It is considered extremely dangerous to shelter in a car, however you can do the following to increase your chances of survival:

Do not park on a road. Emergency service workers do not need to be dealing with car crashes as well as the fires.

Park your car away from dense bushland, preferably in a clear area. If you can find a rock wall to buffer some of the radiant heat even better. Face your car towards the oncoming fire.

Stay in the car, close all windows and doors. Shut all vents and turn off your engine.

Cover yourself with the wool blankets from your evacuation kit. sit or lie down below window level. Drink water.

Once the fire has passed, get out of the car and move to burnt ground.

If you choose to stay

The best way to prepare to stay for a bushfire is to have an action plan that you have both written down and practiced with your household. During a bushfire there is a high likelihood of service disruption both during and after a fire, so do not expect for there to be phone service, internet access, electricity, or water. You should expect:

Embers and spot fires which will move ahead of the main fire. Embers can also land for hours after a fire has passed. Embers are the number one cause of house fires when there is a bushfire.

Darkness. You will never truly understand how dark it can get in a bushfire until you are in it. It's darker than midnight.

Smoke will also make the air difficult to breathe. Invest in good face masks.

Local roads can be blocked from fallen trees or power lines, burnt out cars, dead animals, or emergency service vehicles.

Radiant heat. This is the biggest killer of bushfires. There is very little way around this. Long term radiant heat exposure will kill you long before the main bushfire gets to you. You can block radiant heat with solid walls (such as brick or concrete). Stay away from windows.

Your weapons in the fight against fire

You will need at a bare minimum 10,000 litres (2200 gallons) of water to defend your home. Have a petrol/diesel pump ready to use close by your water source.

In Australia you can find specialty firefighting hoses. Check your local availabilities, but you can still use a gardening hose in a pinch (be aware that plastic will melt once it gets too hot, get ones with metal fittings). Any hose you use should be able to reach all the way around your house.

Sprinklers. Ensure any plastic hoses connected to them are buried so they don't melt.

Buckets. And mops. Yes, you can whack an ember to death.

Metal rakes and shovels which will help break up burning materials.

Metal ladders so you can reach your roof.

Defending your home

If you are planning on staying to defend your home there needs to be at lease two fit adults. They both need to be physically and mentally willing to work for several hours in difficult and distressing conditions.

Everyone who stays also needs to be aware that there is a chance of dying. Survival is not guaranteed if you stay to protect your home.

Make sure you are all wearing appropriate clothing. Put on your bushfire fit. Wear eye protection and face masks to block out smoke. As funny as the picture of the bloke in his shirt and thongs standing on his roof with a hose is, it is a monumentally dangerous move.

Turn off your gas supply, air conditioners, and close all of your windows and doors facing outside.

Block your downpipes and fill your gutters with water, put wet wool blankets (or cotton towels) inside of windows and as door stops.

Check that pets are safely contained, and your car is ready to go in case of a late evacuation.

When embers appear, turn on your sprinklers.

You will need to patrol for embers, and put out any spot fires which occur. As embers float through the air, you will also need to check your roof as your home can easily be set alight from roof embers.

You will be patrolling for embers for several hours, as they can show up before, during, and after the fire front has passed.

Keep hydrated, even if you don't feel like drinking.

As the fire front approaches

You will begin to feel the radiant heat. Remember- you will need to protect yourself from this. Once the heat outside is unbearable you must retreat indoors or you will die.

Hose down any decks and/or garden beds connected to your house.

Collect your fire fighting equipment and bring them indoors. Anything plastic will melt. There are specialty fittings that will let you attach your fire fighting gear to washing machine taps to make it easier to fight fires inside your house.

Stay hydrated. Drink water, and splash your face with water to cool down.

If you are caught in your home during a bushfire

You will still need to patrol inside your home to check for embers starting fire. This includes going into your roof space, as embers enter most easily through the roof.

Make sure the room/s you are sheltering in have two exits- one to another room and one to outside your house. Keep all of the doors inside your house open.

Do not shelter in a room with frosted windows as you want to see what is going on outside.

If your house catches fire and it can't be put out

Close the door to any room that is on fire. Move away from the area/s on fire, keep low to avoid breathing in smoke. Close all doors behind you so you know not to turn back.

As soon as the main fire has passed your house get out! Please do not stay in your on fire house. Instead move to burnt ground.

Drink some water. The last thing you need is to be dehydrated.

Once the fire front has passed

Use your own judgement on whether the outside radiant heat is bearable. Remember, solid walls protect you from radiant heat, so it may be hotter outside your house. Once you can go outside, you are back on outdoor ember patrol.

Do not take your bushfire fit off. Yes, even if it is warm. You don't want bare skin in bushfire conditions.

Put out any fires that have started near or on your house.

Hose down the outside of your house, all of it including the roof and under the floorboards.

Call your friends and family. Let them know you are alive, and that the front has passed you.

Drink water. Do not die of dehydration or heat stroke now.

You will need to stay vigilant for several hours after the front has passed- embers can still start fires.

Places to shelter

If you are caught in the open with no options available to you, you can use these as a last resort shelter:

A stationary car in a clear area such as a bare field.

A ploughed paddock, field or park.

A body of water such as a river or dam.

Thats all I can think of right now. If anybody has any more information to add before this years fire season starts feel free.

[newrelasecondos]

[bluraaven]

Can you tell me something more about what the Obsession AU Wip contains, please?👀

WIP Game

Absolutely!   Good choice, because that one's a delicious flavor of DinCobb that I'm unfortunately not sure will ever make it into a full story.  But here's the cliff notes:

Din's a hitman and Cobb is a lifelong professional conman and they meet by accident during one of Din's jobs.   

(Was I inspired by re-watching John Wick?  Maybe.) 

Cue two completely, utterly unhinged feral men that never know whether they'll kill or fuck each other.  Neither of them knows normal, so they invent their own little backstories and intricate rituals in which they pretend to be all kinds of different people and slowly spiral deeper into a relationship that borders on obsession, unable to stay away from one another.  Consensual but not safe and certainly not sane. 

And while Cobb moves through odd jobs from being a casino shark to an investigator, a professor at uni and then back to working a dingy gas station selling cigs and wank mags to passing truckers, it gets increasingly difficult for Din to keep him a secret.  Because if his guild ever finds out about Cobb, he will have to kill him.  And they do find out, of course they do. 

Hell, Grogu is probably the kid of someone Din killed in that 'verse. 

I did roughly sketch out the first chapter.

CW for murder

A rambunctious bout of laughter, near manic in its pitch, springs up from the main hall that's just to the left and down the wide, opulent staircase.  Which with its faux crystal chandeliers and luscious red carpet, threadbare only in the light of day when one can also make out the stains of drinks spilled and the dark smooth globs of gum firmly trodden into its fibers, at nighttime it makes a fairly good impression of a bygone golden age that had never bothered to take so much as a single step beyond the threshold of this establishment even back when it was still cruising the streets of Mos Eisley. 

The shrill sound of amusement rises above the general clamour and heads upwards, seeking solitude perhaps, as it wriggles its way under the door that is marked 'out of service' and currently locked from the inside.  There it brushes lightly against the man's broad back, currently straining as he remains locked in something that from the right angle might be mistaken for an embrace.  It peeks over a shoulder, curious and unsure whether this is the right person, an old acquaintance met by chance, and recoils. 

The corpse in Din Djarin's arms twitches.  The man caught in a headlock claws at his own neck and at the backs of his assailant's forearms, scratching unsightly furrows into the black leather of his jacket.  He doesn't know he's already a dead man. 

It takes seventeen seconds for him to fully lose consciousness, bent over backwards, off-balance and flailing, and the only kick he manages to aim at Din's knee in that time goes wide. 

The bathroom smells of fresh smoke, piss, and an underlying blend of chemical cleaning agents that has mixed unpleasantly with the cloying perfume that the wall-mounted dispenser squirts into the air with clockwork precision. 

Din draws a thin stiletto knife from the sheath strapped to his forearm and drives its point below his target's breastbone and upwards through his heart and lays the body down.  He allows himself a small grunt of relief as he rolls the tightness out of his shoulders and neck while he waits until the man stops breathing.  When he pulls the blade free, there's hardly any blood save for a coin-sized stain that doesn't spread.  Seldom is, with this type of injury.  Din prefers his work neat. 

The laugh from before gutters out and goes wherever forlorn laughter goes, dribbling drunkenly into the cleavage of the reveler's companion most likely. 

Din tugs off his gloves made of thick black leather and with thin plating sewn into the knuckles and backs, a special requisition he'd had made by the kind of craftsman who knows better than to ask questions.  He tucks them behind his belt and opens the tap. 

The water runs cold at first and cleans the blood off his blade in a stream of pink and then runs clear again.  Din washes his hands.  Would feel odd not to, given the place. 

He uses a paper towel to dry the knife before it disappears back up his sleeve and then his hands while he meets the dark gaze of the man in the mirror with indifference.  His reflection sports slightly overgrown curls and a round face, tempered into maturity only by the lines around his eyes and a fuzzy beard that stubbornly refuses to grow in fully despite being touched by the first greys. 

Din fishes his glasses out of an inner pocket and puts them on. 

He knows he looks more like a librarian than someone who kills for a living. 

Din goes down on one knee and checks his target for a pulse.  Satisfied that there is none, he is about to rise when,

"Good job." 

It's said with the condescending tone one might use on a dog that has remembered to do its business outside and Din's hand flies to the inside of his jacket. 

The man who had materialized at the bathroom's far end without so much as the faintest whisper of a sole against the floor is quicker on the draw and as the tips of Din's fingers brush the ribbed grip of his gun, he finds himself on the wrong end of a silver revolver that means bad business.  

The stranger makes a disapproving 'tsk' noise and the shake of his head is a minuscule barely perceptible thing that freezes Din mid-action. 

As the moment stretches between them, Din has ample time to study the other man who is leaning one shoulder into a stall wall, legs crossed at the ankle in a nonchalant way that may just be genuine. 

He wears his good looks with the air of a person very much aware of his own attractiveness, appears put-together in a casually undone kind of way.  The red scarf around his neck clashes with the bland grey of his suit which Din can tell has been tailored to fit his lean frame.  At a guess he maybe has a decade on Din, although the silver hair, a strand of which has rebelled against being styled and falls impertinently across his high forehead, throws Din for a bit of a loop.  But without a doubt the most remarkable thing about him is that he hasn't yet put a bullet through Din's head. 

No one is this unfazed unless they were expecting him so to buy himself some time, he asks,

"Are you a cop?" 

"Darlin', if I were a cop I'd have my buddies bustin' down this door right about now," the man says with the hint of a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth where Din is sure a cigarette rested moments before. 

Would explain the smell of smoke.  

"No friends then?" he asks, gauging his options.  He can be fast, but the man's finger is on the trigger and his gun hand has the steadiness of a professional.  Takes one to know one. 

If the stranger harbours any apprehensions about sharing a dingy bathroom with a corpse and a murderer, there isn't so much as a flicker of it showing in that shark grin. 

"Six, and each faster 'n you." 

He juts his chin a little higher and Din rises from his crouch, straightening his knees with a conscious effort to keep his movement slow.  Everyone slips up eventually and while he'd rather not find his end here and now, he doesn't harbor any particular aversion to the possibility either. 

Dead is dead. 

So he raises his arms up until his hands touch the back of his head and waits, feet planted square until the stranger tilts his head at one of the stalls and Din back up into it until he can feel the toilet as he kicks back with a heel.  The man steps forward.  Looks down at the body briefly with a detached kind of curiosity but without any pity and the muzzle of his revolver doesn't waver as it remains trained on Din's forehead. 

Din cannot quite make out his eye colour when the stranger's gaze flicks up and he watches Din watch him. 

"Play stupid games," he mutters and Din huffs. 

"Something like that," he says evenly and the whites of the other man's teeth are a stark contrast against his tanned skin and the dim interior of the room. 

The man steps over the prone body in a long graceful stride.  He unlocks the bathroom door one-handed and without looking at what he's doing, his eyes never once leaving Din's.  Smart. 

Maybe not smart enough, because he doesn't pull the trigger as Din would have.  He simply leaves. 

Din doesn't lower his arms until he hears the soft catch of the door falling shut, and the faint rasp of the man's drawl addressing whoever had wandered here in hopes of relieving themselves. 

"Oh, I wouldn't go in there.  It's a terrible mess; I'd sooner brave the downstairs queue.  Did they finally stop fucking in that stall?" 

His voice trails off as Din hauls the corpse into the furthest stall and locks it from the inside before climbing back out the top.  By the time anyone complains about the smell he'll be long gone.  He makes a careful round of the casino, eyes drawn to every speck of silver and red, but doesn't find whom he is looking for. 

The stranger has disappeared and it is time for Din to do the same. 

[jasondiana18]

How Roof Cleaning Services Can Save You Money in the Long Run?

Roof cleaning services may seem like an additional expense, but they can save you money in the long run by preventing potential damages, extending the life of your roof, and maintaining the overall integrity of your home. 

Here's how investing in roof cleaning services can be a cost-effective decision:

Preventing Structural Damage: Regular roof cleaning prevents the accumulation of debris, leaves, and other materials that can trap moisture. Moisture retention can lead to the growth of mold, mildew, and algae, which can compromise the structural integrity of your roof over time. By preventing these issues, you avoid costly repairs or even the need for a premature roof replacement.

Extending Roof Lifespan: The longevity of your roof is directly tied to its maintenance. Algae, moss, and lichen growth can eat away at roofing materials and lead to deterioration. Professional roof cleaning removes these harmful elements, preserving the quality of your roof and extending its lifespan. A well-maintained roof can save you the significant expense of a premature roof replacement.

Preventing Leaks and Water Damage: Clogged gutters and drainage systems can lead to water accumulation on the roof. This standing water can find its way into your home, causing leaks, water damage, and potential mold issues. Roof cleaning services ensure that gutters and downspouts are clear, preventing water from pooling and damaging your home's interior.

Reducing Energy Costs: A clean roof reflects more sunlight, reducing heat absorption. This is particularly important in warmer climates. When algae and other contaminants accumulate on your roof, they absorb more heat, leading to increased indoor temperatures. A cooler roof helps regulate indoor temperatures, reducing the strain on your HVAC system and ultimately lowering your energy bills.

Preserving Roof Warranty: Many roofing materials come with warranties that are contingent on proper maintenance. Neglecting your roof can void these warranties, leaving you responsible for any repair or replacement costs. Regular roof cleaning helps you fulfill warranty requirements, protecting your investment and potentially saving you from out-of-pocket expenses.

Enhancing Curb Appeal: A clean and well-maintained roof contributes to the overall curb appeal of your home. If you decide to sell your property, a well-maintained roof can significantly increase its resale value. Potential buyers are more likely to be attracted to a home with a clean and aesthetically pleasing exterior, potentially leading to a quicker and more lucrative sale.

Avoiding Algae and Moss Remediation: Once algae and moss take hold of your roof, they can be challenging to eliminate. Professional roof cleaning services can prevent the need for costly remediation efforts, such as pressure washing or chemical treatments. Regular cleaning stops these issues from escalating, saving you money on more extensive interventions.

Preventing Pest Infestations: Debris on the roof can create hiding places for pests like rodents and insects. Over time, these pests can cause damage to your roof and infiltrate your home. Professional roof cleaning removes potential habitats for pests, reducing the risk of infestations and the associated costs of pest control.

Reducing Insurance Premiums: Some insurance providers offer discounts for well-maintained homes. By investing in roof cleaning services and maintaining your home's overall condition, you may qualify for lower insurance premiums. Over time, these savings can add up, offsetting the cost of regular roof maintenance.

In conclusion, roof cleaning services are a proactive investment that can save you money in the long run by preventing structural damage, extending the lifespan of your roof, avoiding water damage, reducing energy costs, preserving warranties, enhancing curb appeal, preventing costly remediation efforts, avoiding pest infestations, and even qualifying for insurance discounts. By prioritizing regular roof maintenance, you not only protect your home but also make a sound financial decision that pays off over time.

[jack-o-lancern]

What On earth Is A Junk Removal Service?

A junk removal business is in the service industry. A service work is one that offers a support rather than an item. A store will sell real hard items something you can see and feel. A service work sells their experience or information. All things considered you would agree that that you could get the junk your self, it doesn't take a genius right. But what individuals don't see is that around a building site it tends to be dangerous.

It brings information to destroy something with out it falling on you. At the point when they remove things it isn't generally that they will just lift it up off of the ground. They should do some destroying. What they do is they will clean undesirable things from your home, business or anyplace. What they do is pivot and recycle what ever they have removed for you. Development groups will use these removal services because a ton of their work will require destruction.

You need to destroy things sometimes before you can reconstruct, sometimes it is basically impossible to get around it you will make a wreck. Their responsibility is to clean that wreck for you. For example what they do is the point at which the development company destroys a school for remodel, they will come in before destruction and remove anything that can be. Aluminum gutters, climate control system units, copper lines and wires.

They likewise help the environment because these junk and undesirable items would have wound up in a landfill somewhere, but they will dip in and destroy if needed and remove the junk. At the point when they recycle the materials they will get what ever the piece value of that material is. So they get compensated from the development team and they will likewise get an installment from the recycling community.

The reason that the development group or company won't just do it without anyone else's help is because it requires investment that they don't have. So they will pay someone else to make sure they will actually want to finish the task that they have. They are a sub contractor for the first destruction group. For a home owner they will do things, for example, remove old stalled vehicles when the owner doesn't have a method for moving it themselves. They will recycle the vehicles likewise, so a junk removal service is similar to a vulture. In the regard that they find old dead items that isn't doing anything other than smelling up the spot.