#tree removal Texas

[madaraservingcunt]

[g2web]

This is one of my favorite 😍 non profits!

I love everything they stand for and it is my pleasure to support them.

I discovered them while doing some blogging and research for my client treewizards.com (aka Dallas Tree Doctor). @whiterocktreewizards

[texastreeexpertss]

For reliable tree services in Houston, TX, trust Texas Tree Expert. Our team offers expert tree trimming, removal, and maintenance to keep your property looking great and safe. Whether you need emergency tree removal or routine care, we provide professional and affordable solutions. Contact us today for all your tree care needs in Houston!

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[texasexperttree]

Tree Services in Houston TX | Tree Care Experts Houston | Texas Tree Expert

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[hardlyinteresting]

On The Beach

Jake Seresin x Reader

 “Jake Seresin! You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Shirtless he backs towards the ocean continuing to remove his shoes, socks and pants, “And what do you think I’m doing, Sugar?”

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, nudity, idiots in love, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please),I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 2K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

July had been unforgiving with heat; sweltering days, broken up by occasional rains that cooled the air but left behind intolerable humidity. August was built up as a promise of relief but instead, she steamrolled the record-setting temperatures of July with her own. 

95°F felt like some kind of cruel trick already, but the air conditioning at The Hard Deck cutting out halfway through a shift was a new kind of torture entirely. 

She’d been quick to help Penny to open up all the doors and windows to all the mild relief of the ocean breeze blowing through, bringing in a flood of daylight so uncommonly seen inside the cozy bar. 

The ice machine set to work overtime, fresh kegs of beer ready to pour by the time the usual crowd of regulars began to pile in. Stripped down to a tank top and shorts she ties her hair up to keep it off the back of her neck, desperate to get through this shift in one piece. With just the two of them behind the bar, she does her best to keep up with the seemingly endless pile of orders, reminding the pilots and veterans to take a glass of ice water as well. 

“Hey Sugar,” Hangman flirts leaning against the counter. It’s not fair that he looks so cool and collected, his khaki uniform still perfectly pressed, his hair neatly styled while she thinks she might be melting with the feeling of sweat on her back. She’s sure she looks a mess, but Hangman doesn’t take his eyes off of her as he waits for her to take his order. 

Jake is certain that despite the shower he took on base, he still smells like jet fuel. The hottest day of the year might not have been so bad under the shade of a big tree back home, a soft breeeze blowing through the branches of sweet-olive trees. He'd spent enough summers in Texas to know how to muck through the dog days. But on base, the heat radiates up from the black top tarmac, threatening to melt the soles of their issued boots. Up in the air, the glass canopy of the cockpit feels like a magnifying glass; doubling both the discomfort of intense flight training, and the intensity of the sun's contributions to the torrid day. 

Stripping off his flight suit and stepping into a cold shower had been a relief, matched only by the promise of a beer at The Hard Deck to end the week. 

The doors and windows were open when he arrived, a wall of humid and stagnant heat rolling from inside the establishment nearly had him turning around to head home before he spotted her. Sugar, with her hair pulled back, sweat gathering across her collarbone and chest, white tank top clinging to her in ways he previously could only imagine. She's a sight for sore eyes, and now leaning against the bar he has no intention of going anywhere else tonight. 

“Beer?” she asks him. 

He nods his confirmation, “bottle please,” he adds. “It’s hot in here today”. 

“AC broke,” she sighs, “Mav is up on the roof trying to fix it now”. 

“I’m not sure there’s much he can’t do,” he shrugs, “Drink some water. I can’t have you passing out, Sugar”. 

She does her best to ignore the flirtatious wink he throws her way. She knows he's a relentless philanderer, she's seen how quickly he can manage to find a date for the night. He's handsome beyond a doubt, and by far one of the kindest patrons she has, but she's not looking to be heartbroken. And friendship has suited the two of them just fine for the last few months, no reason to mess with a good thing. 

After two weeks of working at The Hard Deck, she'd finally given in to The Dagger Squad’s insistence that she join them at the pool table after her shift. Hangman had been a surprisingly gracious loser when she ran him out of 50 bucks. A few weeks later Jake and Bradley had thrown a drunk guy out of the bar when he'd given her a hard time and refused to pay his own tab let alone the rounds ordered at the sound of the bell. 

She had tried to thank him but he'd only given her a curt nod, “Nothing to thank me for, Sugar”. 

So she smiles back at his teasing grins, laughs at his jokes, and blows kisses and he playfully pretends they knock him over. It’s easy, it’s fun. “I know you’re just trying to keep your heart in one piece,” Penny tells her, “but don’t break his either”. 

No one sticks around too long, too tired, and far too warm to take up their usual challenges at the pool table. The sun has gone down by the time Mav comes in to let Penny know he had no luck fixing the AC unit before stopping by the table Bob, Coyote, and Hangman have settled at. Hangman has stripped down to his white undershirt, the T-shirt clinging to his chest and back, the sleeves drawing her attention to his arms that she's caught herself staring at too often to count. 

“Heading out?” She asks when Hangman comes up to the bar, getting ready to close out his tab, “You only had one beer tonight”. 

He nods, “Well, it'd be irresponsible for me to have more. I'm giving you a drive home”. 

She grins, slipping the bill across the counter, “I don't remember you asking me”. 

“Mav’s orders,” he answers easily, with a seriousness that makes her think he really isn't just joking with her. 

“Penny's actually, I was just the messenger,” Maverick holds up his hands in innocence. 

Penny calls last call early, before dismissing her for the night, “cool off. Go home,” she instructs leaving no room for argument. 

The night air feels lighter, though not as refreshing as expected, the breeze cooling the tack of sweat against her balmy skin. The sound of the ocean meeting the beachside echoes in the uncharacteristic quiet. She breathes out a sigh her head tilted back and arms out trying to make the best of the gust of wind blowing by. 

“C’mon,” Jake laughs, “I'll crank the AC for you”. 

She pouts a little in return. The glow from the fluorescent light inside the bar floods out across the deck patio, casting shadows out in front of them. He’s standing a good five feet behind her, but his bedimmed counterpart stretches out next to her own, overlapping as he steps closer. The moonlight shines brightly over the white sand below and it strikes her that despite working beachside all summer, she’s yet to step foot on the beach. Jake smirks, his head tilted towards the beach that's captured her attention. “Let’s go cool off,” his words a playful mimicry of Penny’s instructions.

Without protest, she follows him. His grin grows impossibly bigger, clearly pleased with himself as he watches her shuffle out of her socks and shoes, her footsteps so much smaller than his own, she struggles to keep up, but he never lets her fall too far behind. He moves quickly in the dark, the sand still warm underfoot. Nearing the water's edge he slows his pace. She’s gorgeous in the moonlight. She’s always pretty. His usual coquetry shrinks on the tip of his tongue; lost to thoughts and curiosities about her favourite bands, and what might make her laugh. He’s found himself growing somewhat softer as he thinks back to the night he met her, watching her glide through the room oblivious to the attention she’d managed to capture. Her smile lit up the room as she danced with her friends. Her laughter was loud and uproarious, very near infectious. 

His white shirt hits the sand in an unceremonious pile by her feet. 

“Jake Seresin! You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!”

Shirtless he backs towards the ocean continuing to remove his shoes, socks and pants, “And what do you think I’m doing, Sugar?” “I think you're trying to get me to go skinny dipping with you!” He laughs, “I ain't trying. I'm succeeding”. 

There's not an ounce of shame, nor an ounce of clothing on him as he wades into the water, not turning around to look at her again until his in up past his waist. “C’mon,” he calls to her, “the waters lovely!” 

She's always considered herself to be pretty easy going. But the idea of stripping naked to join Hangman on this oceanic side quest leaves her stomach tied in knots. She's seen enough of him playing football with the squad that she's not shocked by his broad shoulders, nor the expanse of his chest. She knows that standing on the beach, in a tank top a shorts that cling to her the way they do, she has little to hide her own form. But joining Jake in the water will surely only add to the tension they've allowed to build between them. How different is the ocean from an expanse of bedsheets when you're standing naked with Jake Seresin? 

“You have to promise you won't look!” She calls to him, pulling her top up over her head. 

“I promise,” he says, “scouts honour !” 

“Boy scouts? I'm sure you sold a lot of cookies with all that charm of yours”.

She shimmies out of her shorts, hesitating in her bra and underwear. Jake stands with his back to her holding up his end of the deal. 

“Cookies are the Girl Scouts, Sugar,” he corrects, but she can practically hear him grinning, “but I did earn my fundraising activity badge selling tins of popcorn”. 

Bare, she makes a mad dash into the water, splashing as she works to cover as much of herself as possible. 

“So,” she smiles, “you come here often?”

Her voice is quiet as she hopes that the joke lands, her knees bent to keep her top half under the cover of the unlit water. She tries to play cool. Jake, to his credit, plays along without missing a beat. “I can't say I do, Sugar. The dress code is too loose for my taste”.

“Ah, yes, of course. I forgot you're known for being a prude, Hangman”.

A gentle, yet unexpected wave pushes into the shoreline, knocking her sideways. Jake is quick to wrap his hand around her upper arm, not letting her get too far. This close, it’s impossible to hide from the gaze of his warm green eyes. He smells like cedar and amber. Warm and clean. Beneath it, the smell of jet fuel lingers. She knows how hard he must try to scrub it from himself at the end of each day, and she wonders if it might just be in his blood at this point. Another wave pushes them closer together once more. 

He clears his throat, trying hard not to think about how close circumstance has brought them; he weighs the validity of fate but pushes it down deep inside certain that one day these unlabelled feelings might just explode in his chest. For now, he startles when a sudden splash of water is directed towards his face. Sugar feigns innocence, but starts to paddle away from him as he blinks away the water from his eyes. 

“Sugar,” he warns, “don’t start something you don’t want to finish”. His own hands, larger than hers cup more of the ocean's surface propelling it in her direction with a great slosh, the sound echoing on the empty beach.

Up on the deck, Penny and Maverick watch the two distant figures throwing water, their laughter audible even when their words aren’t.

“Do you think they know there are sharks in that water?” 

Penny shrugs, “Do you think they know they’re half in love with each other yet?”

[g2web]

So I sent my client Jim Chase at www.treewizards.com aka The Dallas Tree 🌳 Doctor…… a text about what chambers and biz networking groups for @foxquestinc to join in Garland! And this is what he texted back!

“Biz Netwkg Group?

Hey Jennifer!

U r the only group im in. Ur as good as 3 groups!! Cheers! Jim”

This made my day!!! 🙏☮️❤️

@whiterocktreewizards

[calmcoldevening]

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

[texastreeexpertss]

Tree Removal in Houston: Ensuring a Safe and Healthy Landscape

Tree removal in Houston is something that needs to be taken seriously. Whether it is for the sake of safety, in control of disease, or making way, it is crucial to hire the best tree company possible to ensure that it is done right and without risks. With a certified and experienced crew, homeowners can protect their property and make their landscape look more aesthetic.

[hellishjoel]

blue collar man

4.1k /  joel miller x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriend Joel is up to his ears busy with his contracting business. Tired and sore, he comes home to learn you’ve made the rest of the night all about him. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: Fluff, mentions of sex (but no actual sex), mentioned age difference, fluffy fluff fluff because blue collar man Joel Miller deserves it! He’s running a biz-ness! 

A/N: based on this lovely request! I hope I could bring your request to life, I breezed through it so fast because I love him, he’s baby. 

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him.  “Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold. 

Joel had found a lot of success with Miller Contracting over the summer months. Business was booming and his early mornings until late nights were dedicated to working on multiple projects to get things done on time for his clients. Joel worked on referrals mostly, so when he finished a client’s remodeled hill country home in late winter, the client had raved over Joel’s professionalism and hard work to their friends and now he had a list of upcoming projects. 

Truthfully, you didn’t know much about contractors until you started dating Joel. You quickly began to understand the vastness of his duties. One day he could be working on home renovation projects where he was doing demolition like removing the walls or floors, electrical and plumbing work, flooring installation, even down to the last coat of paint. 

Other opportunities were commercial like on a small office building downtown where he did site preparation, set the foundation, worked on the beams and columns, all the way up to finishing the roof. Whatever he couldn’t do himself that was a bit more specialized, he hired subcontractors to work on like heating, ventilation, and air conditioning. 

What he hated the most was landscaping projects. He’d have to do the design layout of a large backyard garden and plant trees and flowers or work on seeding grass if it was a particularly hot Texas summer. Then he would add irrigation systems like sprinklers, pathways for people to walk on, pergolas for outdoor hosting, finishing it off with pretty and unique outdoor light fixtures. God forbid the client wanted a pond. 

“Do you know how annoying koi fish are? They just… stare at ya while you’re tryin’ to work.”

You had grown to love the handy man that Joel was. Before you were moved in to his place, your shitty little apartment needed so much love that your asshole landlord never took the time to come and fix. But Joel would. That was his form of romance. He didn’t bring you flowers or chocolates on the first dates. Joel was replacing your leaky shower head and tightening your jiggly door knobs. He also managed to match the paint color on your walls so he could cover up the scrapes he made after he railed you into your mattress so hard that the frame made a few chips. 

You were so happy to see his business getting the high recognition it deserved, however, Joel was taking quite the beating from it. You could tell by the way he slinked back into the house at the end of the night, his frame hunched over and walking with a slight limp. 

He was sore, muscles aching and knees screaming at him. His joints were swollen by the end of the day and his sweaty, sticky skin ached for a refreshing shower. 

The hardest part was always trying to shut off his mind when he got home. He was already thinking about the next day. What didn’t get done on time, what shipments of supplies were expected, how the delays would set the project back. He needed a break. 

“Can’t take time off right now, baby. I’ve got deadlines to meet.”

There was this one specific project that was giving him hell. He called it the Astor because it was on Astor street. Every night this week he had come home beyond late because of the problems with the Astor. First it was that the project was exceeding the client’s budget, so they were giving him grief about that. Then it was labor shortage stuff, not being able to get people out there which then in turn caused timeline delays. With the client out of the country most of the time, Joel was receiving little to no communication from the owner. He was fighting permit and regulatory issues with the city, every day it was something new that caused a headache behind his eyes. 

His dedication was admirable, but you knew that him being so physically and mentally clouded wasn’t good for him or for Miller Contracting. 

You didn’t know shit about contracting, but you did know Joel. 

You had texted him earlier in the day to drop whatever he was working on no later than 5 o’clock in the evening. You never did that, never told him to leave work early. But the last thing he wanted was for him to come home and have you upset with him. That was worse than any project issue. 

Tonight would be about Joel. Anything you could do to make the stress melt away, you would try. 

Joel pushed open the front door once home, a heavy sigh leaving him as he closed the door back in place and set his lunch box and keys down on the entry table. 

“Joel?” Your voice echoed from the kitchen. 

“Hi, baby.” His voice was low from the lack of energy.

Joel slowly moved down on one knee, a heavy breath exiting through clench teeth as his kneecaps throbbed while he untied one boot, then the other. They were covered in dust even down to the creases, steel toe covers making his feet sore. 

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked as you grabbed a dish towel to wipe your hands with before tossing it on the counter, greeting him halfway as he made his way through the living room. 

You were up on your tippy toes for a kiss, not wanting him to have to bend over and exert himself. He hated when you treated him like an old man, but with this job, you always teased him that it was coming sooner rather than later. 

He kept his hands to himself, knowing they were a bit greasy and sweaty. His overgrown beard hairs tickled your face as you peppered him with a few extra kisses, one of his eyebrows playfully raising. 

“Was fine. Did you see what I texted you?” He asked as he looked down at you, watching as your fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, helping lift it off his head. 

“Mhm. The HVAC guys didn’t show up until noon even though you scheduled them for nine in the morning. Did you see I texted you back? Five hours ago.” Your teasing tone made him crack a smile. 

Joel was bad at texting. Typical guy thing, typical older guy thing. He said he wouldn’t even have a phone if it wasn’t for work and if Sarah didn’t insist on how texting was the new way of communication. Even though you texted him ten minutes after his initial one, his phone was already back in his pocket and he had long forgotten about your conversation as he returned to his work day. 

His response came out in a chortle, a heavy breath through his nose since he was too tired to chuckle. 

“Sorry, baby. Just wanted to complain, I guess.” He said as he watched you fiddle with his Miller Contracting shirt that had a worn in hole by the neckline. He went to reach for it, wanting to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, but you were quick to hold it to your chest. 

“I’ve got it.” You said as you went to give him a soft kiss to the open plane of his chest, smiling at the salt and pepper chest hair he was sporting. It looked so good on him. You walked off to the bedroom and did it yourself, grabbing him a fresh shirt for the rest of the evening, a pair of boxers, and his worn dark plaid pajama pants he liked. 

Joel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. A heavenly smell was drawing him into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him. You had green beans in a frying pan and a gravy softly bubbling in a sauce pan. Then in a skillet was the most perfect looking chicken fried steak, the coating coming to the perfect crisp. He pulled the oven handle open just an inch to see golden biscuits rising. 

“I put clean clothes on the counter in the bathroom, go shower, handsome.” You said before returning to the kitchen, frowning as he found his dinner before you had a chance to plate it. 

“Joel.” You playfully scolded, pinching at his hip. “You’re ruining your own surprise.” You teased as you shooed him out of the kitchen, hearing an audible grumble in his stomach. It made you sport a proud grin. It was his favorite meal, said it reminded him of his mom’s cooking growing up with Tommy. 

“I’m making mashed potatoes, too.” You said as you drained the water the potatoes were soaking in, putting them in a new bowl and getting out some milk and butter. 

“You’re makin’ me hungry.” He hummed with a small, tired smile as his hands came up loosely on your hips. 

His hands on you instantly made you grin, gently shaking your head at him as his head came to rest by your own. 

“You’re distractin’ me.” His low voice carrying the weight of his day. 

“No, you’re distracting me.” You made clear as your elbow playfully dug into the core of his stomach. 

“Go shower, please. You smell like drywall dust… and paint.” 

He rolled his eyes with his smile still lingering. 

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” He said as his lips dropped down to place a sweet kiss of sincerity at the base of your neck, a shiver rolling up you as you let out a huff and returned your focus to your five-star meal. 

You heard the water hit against the shower wall and his small radio crackled to life, finalizing the last touches to Joel’s favorite dinner. 

Joel came back to the living room in the clothes you had set out for him, his hair slicked back wet from his shower. God, he looked so good. 

“Here.” You handed him his plate, seeing his lips part in excitement. His stomach let out an audible rumble. He probably didn’t have a spare minute to eat his lunch today, poor thing. 

The two of you settled on the couch, Joel expecting you to turn on one of your shows since a new episode came out today. 

“Do you uhm.. Maybe wanna watch one of those movies where they’re flying the jet planes? You said you wanted to show me it a while ago.” You offered, glancing over to see him already inhaling his food with the fork scraping across the plate to not let a single bit of gravy escape him. But your offer made him pause. 

“You wanna watch Top Gun? You hate Tom Cruise.”

“Well, yeah, he seems kind of like a douchebag, but it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed on you as he thought about your offer but ultimately shook his head, shrugged, and kept eating. 

“‘t’s fine, you can put somethin’ on.” He said as he stabbed a green bean, smeared some mashed potatoes on it before putting it past his lips. 

You took a deep breath and issued him the remote control. 

“You pick something tonight, honey. It’s your night.” 

That caught Joel’s attention. His head whipped a little to fast towards you, his thick eyebrows furling at the concept. 

“‘t’s not my night. It’s a Thursday.” 

The look you gave him set him straight. 

“Okay, okay.. It’s my night.” He declared in playful defense, taking in a deep breath through his nose and opted for some old Western show he liked. You didn’t care much for it, but Joel did. 

Once you two finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table and discarded, your head was on his shoudler and your hand ran slow, soothing circles over his chest. You could feel him breathing deeply, relaxing with you. 

You asked him questions about the main characters, showing genuine interest. Even going as far as to add a dramatic gasp when a shot was fired from a cowboy’s revolver which made him let out a hearty laugh. 

“You’re so full of it.” 

He was talking with a huge grin, you could hear it in how he spoke, and it warmed your heart. 

Towards the end of your night, your hands were in yellow dish gloves as you washed your plates from dinner, sliding the clean ones between the dividers of your drying rack. 

Joel slipped his strong arms low around your waist, his burly shoulders pressing into your own as you nearly toppled over with his presence

“Thanks for dinner tonight. Hit the spot.” He said as he kissed your cheek then on a spot where your jawline met your neck, right by your ear. His beard hairs tickled. You could feel that they were freshly trimmed now, he probably felt a lot better.  

“Night’s not over yet.” You hummed, a playful smile on your lips that he was quick to take notice of. 

“Oh?” His voice dropped an octave, rolling your eyes a bit as you dug your elbow into his stomach for the second time tonight to put some space between you. 

“Okay, cowboy. Relax. How about you go to the bedroom and take your shirt off. I’ll be there in a sec.” Your choice of words were still leading him in a different direction, you almost felt bad. But it was funny watching him get worked up. 

After finishing the dishes and blowing out the eucalyptus scented candles, you peaked into your bedroom. Joel was still cautiously removing his shirt, moving slow as to not disturb his aching muscles. You hated seeing him come home every night like this, as if his body had just been in a fight and taken a brutal beating.

Joel undid the clasp of his watch, the band and watch face dirty and making digging a  bruise into his wrist, but it told the time. He felt better after his shower, having made it a steamy one to relax the stinging in his upper neck and shoulders as well as his lower back. 

His belly was good and full, happy to have something homemade rather than a quick pizza in the oven or just a cold bottle of beer before bed.  

You were taking care of him tonight. Not that you didn’t every other night. He was actually giving you the time to take proper care of him. It felt off at first, taking on all the attention he usually reserved for you after long days. But maybe it’s what he needed. 

His head turned as he felt a warm pair of arms circle just above his plaid pajama pants, your soft fingers undoing the knot he had tied in the front of them. 

“I would’a taken my pants off for ya if you’d just ask.” His tone taunting, stepping out of the soft material before spinning in your arms and attempting to scoop you into him. 

“Lay back, goofball.” You said with that gleaming smile of yours. Made his stomach twist. Whatever you had planned, you obviously wanted the lead on. 

He did as instructed, happily falling into the comfort of the mattress with ease. 

“Close your eyes, please.” Your voice was sweet like honey. He’d follow it into the shadows, into hell, more likely into heaven since it’s where Joel thought you belonged. 

He could already fall asleep, though it was no later than eight. He felt the bed dip first at his legs, your body shifting up to sit by his hip. His hand naturally felt out for you, his warm palm holding you at the curve of your lower back. 

When Joel was given the okay to open his eyes again, he was surprised to see a few candles lit around the room, the golden glow adding a bit of ambiance. 

He watched as you squirted a few pumps of a lotion in your hands, circling it up in your palms to make it a little warm before you started to lather it into his calves. 

The sensation made his breath hitch. You were giving him a massage? He sat up on his elbows and watched the white-ish cream get all wrapped up in his dark leg hair. 

“Darlin’-”

“Shh.”

He tightened his lips, feeling a bit futile all of a sudden. There was a pause before he spoke again. 

“Don’t have to do this for me.” He insisted, his eyes on yours, but you were focused on adding subtle pressure to his calf muscles. 

“Know I don’t have to. I want to. Lay back down.” 

You wanted to. You wanted to take time out of your evening and bathe him in attention. You had cooked one of his favorite meals, and to perfection he might add. You also let him watch a show he wanted to watch, something he knew you didn’t have a taste for. But you were intrigued anyway, to show you cared. 

He was so comfortable and at ease, the problems of today didn’t seem to matter much anymore when you were here to greet him so lovingly. 

Your fingers kneaded gently into his skin, Joel’s eyes dipping closed as he began to sink deeper into the mattress. Of course he couldn’t just do nothing. He had his warm palm splayed on your back where the shirt you were wearing was riding up a little bit. You smiled at the gesture. No matter how much effort you tried to dedicate to Joel, he was still showing his care even when he was dead exhausted. 

You worked the lotion up into his thighs, the slight tug on his hairs making his face crinkle a little. You dared not to get too high, again, not to give him the wrong idea of where the massage was heading. It was okay to be just attentive to his needs for tonight. You could relax him in other more sensual ways another time. He needed something a little deeper.

You leaned down and peppered sweet kisses up his torso and over those salt and pepper chest hairs you admire so much, stopping just at his lips with a small smile. 

“So handsome.” You praised in a whisper, kissing him with a grin on your lips.

He hummed softly and moved his hand to gently cup the back of your head, keeping your kind presence in his proximity just a moment longer. 

“I’m getting too old for you.” He whispered back in a teasing tone, making you bubble up a laugh in your shared space. 

“You’ve always been too old for me.” Your thumb gently glided over his chin and admired a small white patch just at the base where his neck sloped down. “But I’ve never minded. Because you’re a good man. A hard working, blue collar man. It’s very sexy.” You teased with a smile, happy to see one blossom on his lips as well. 

“Thanks for treatin’ me so good tonight. This week’s been…” he let the sentence die before shaking his head. 

“I know, Joel.” You said with a small nod before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips again before sitting up straight. 

“Wanna roll over and I’ll do your shoulders?” 

He let out a breathless laugh as he looked up at you. “Please.” Like you had to ask. 

He wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but boy, maybe he should start asking for it. 

Joel moved to lay on his belly, letting out a short groan in the process that made your chest flutter. 

You let out a short huff before you straddled his back, topping yourself right on his butt after getting a short groan from Joel for being on his tailbone. 

More lotion was squirted into your hands before you started to apply it across the landscape of his back. 

“We should do a skincare night.” You said, feeling his body shudder at the cold lotion. 

“Uh what?” Joel’s voice muffled against the comforter, his head to one side so he could see you just out of his peripheral.

“You know what skincare is, you see me do it every night.” 

“I don’t know what the he-ll you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He said, his words stuttering as you pushed particularly harder in his lower back. Jeez, it was knot after knot under your fingertips. 

“Ugh, Joel!” You whined as your motions paused. 

Joel had a habit of doing this. Declaring he had no idea what it was that you were talking about, making you tirelessly explain for several minutes, before he goes ‘Oh, why didn’t you just say that? I know what that is.” It made you roll your eyes each and every time. 

“You’re handsome, but you don’t listen.” You hummed out before cupping your hands at his shoulders and doing circles with good pressure, your upper body weight being put into his stern muscles. 

“All I heard you say is that I’m handsome.” He moaned into the sheets, a blush creeping on your cheeks at his comment, but also his heavenly moan. 

“It’s.. where you apply skincare to your face. You know, using a cleanser, applying an exfoliator, moisturizer..”

This was when Joel started muffling random nonsense into the sheets and you playfully pushed into his crying shoulders harder until he let out another long groan of discomfort. 

“Okay, okay, I know what you’re talkin’ about. Skincare. I don’t need it.” 

You tutted, shaking your head as you held in a laugh. 

“Everyone needs it. Every. One.” You said as you leaned down and kissed the back of his head where his curls were starting to form. 

“Especially you, Joel! Your pores are so big, you’ve got dust and dirt getting all in there. And it’s been so hot outside, your skin’s drying up. Gotta take care of your skin baby.”

“Why? So I’ll look young agian?” He teased as he reached a hand back and squeezed your hip as well as he could from his position. 

“Because it’s good for you. Makes me feel good after a really long day.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a throat hum leaving his lips. “Thought I made you feel good after a really long day.” 

A huff left your lips as you were back to doing circles into his shoulder with your thumbs. “Shut up.”

The last of the lotion had sunk into his skin, the massage hopefully healing more than just his dry skin. 

Night’s like this with Joel were rare, but exceptionally special. He had energy to talk to you about everything under the sun, something you didn’t expect to transpire with your age difference at first. You discussed your mutual plans for the weekend, a barbeque at Tommy’s house. Joel was insisting on you wearing your new bikini, green to match his beautiful eyes. He could be such a horn dog. 

He wanted to stay up as long as he could, but the long day he endured couldn’t help but put weight on his eyelids. His words turned to mumbles, his arms snaking around your waist in his silent gesture to fall asleep with you. 

You shook your head with a small, tired smile, your hands planting themselves on his forearms to put a stop to his motions.

“Turn around.” You whispered, the notion making his tired eyes pop open with a “huh?” leaving his parted lips. 

“You heard me, old man. Turn around.” You said as your hand roamed over his warm hip. 

Joel assumed you didn’t want to cuddle tonight, maybe he was too warm for your taste despite the fan running above the both of you. 

Joel’s chest tightened as he felt your warm body return right behind him, a bashful grin on his face. 

“Are you tryna big spoon me?” His southern accent was dripping heavier than usual with the tiredness stringed in it. 

The question erupted a giggle from you, Joel feeling you kiss over his taut shoulder blade. 

“I don’t know how well I can big spoon you.. You’re so long.” Your arm tightened around Joel’s waist anway, his big hand finding yours as your fingers interlocked. He felt grateful in this moment, albeit a bit shy about the position. He was used to being the big spoon, it was different for him to be on the receiving end. But it was warm and settling, he couldn’t deny that. 

“So I’m uh.. I’m like the ladle to your big spoon?” Joel asked. He could feel your grin on his back, your legs tangling with his own. 

“Yes… you’re the ladle, but even the ladle needs a big spoon.” Joel’s blinks slowed until his eyes were closed, heavy with sleep. 

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him. 

“Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.

[thepersonperson]

Little Details in JJK

I've decided to put a couple of minor details I noticed and thought were neat in one place to keep track of them. They're all basically like this:

They never patched that hole up but they removed all the talismans lmao. Planning how to kill Sukuna in the room Yuji was almost executed with the finger that made that hole goes hard though.

Notes before we start.

1) This features Miguel Oduol, Yorozu, and Sukuna.

2) I will be mainly using the TCB scans for the manga because of their accessibility. 

3) Raws are from mangareader(.)to.

(Click images for captions/citations.)

Miguel Oduol

We all know Miguel Oduol is from Kenya, however what you might not know is that he appears to be from the Maasai tribe specifically! I'm going to link a lot of resources about this, so keep in mind that sometimes they can be incidentally racist. (Aka a minority is tribe is discussed like an alien species.)

Cursed Technique Origins

I know a lot of people criticized Miguel's Cursed Technique (CT) for being a dance, however, it is directly related to him being Maasai. Adumu is the Maasai jumping dance practiced by warriors to show off their strength and agility. This is the dance Miguel appears to be doing when he first activates his CT against Sukuna.

(Read more on the Maasai Jumping Dance here!)

If you noticed, Miguel's baldness also appears to be based it being a common hairstyle for the Maasai regardless of gender. It should also be noted that his CT, Hakuna Laana, is Swahili for No Curses. Swahili is an official language of Kenya and is spoken by the Maasai even though they have their own language (also called Maasai or Maa).

Other Details

Since the Maasai are nomadic and move around based on the weather, their dwellings reflect that lifestyle. This appears to be why Miguel is drawn outside of a hut in that one flashback—it's just how Maasai homes look.

Another thing done right was the local flora. It's super easy for creators to mistakenly apply foreign flora to the wrong region. (Take for instance, the iconic Saguaro cactus being included in settings based on Chihuahuan Desert in Texas, when this cactus exclusively grows in the Sonoran Desert, which is basically just Arizona and Baja California.)

The trees in the background are called Baobab trees and they do in fact grow in Kenya.

Why Maasai?

I think Gege picked the Maasai tribe in particular for Miguel because of their belief in curses. See from the following sources:

"While generational curses are normal within the Maasai worldview..."

"For the Maasai people, death does not traditionally hold any secrets of the afterlife. Once an individual has passed, their journey has ended. All of their possessions and any of their sins are transferred to the loved ones who survive them."

"Social control among the Maasai rests ultimately on the general belief in the power of elders to bless and to curse..."

(Please note that the word they use for curse (engooki) appears to be sometimes translated as sin.)

So when Miguel threatens to curse Geto in JJK0 if he dies?

He really fudging means it. (Could also explain why he's so particular about not dying. He doesn't believe he'll be reincarnated later, that's just it for him!)

The only thing about Miguel that didn't seem to fit with Maasai practices is the black rope. This is a stretch, but it might be based on their well-known bead work:

"Black– Symbolizes unity and solidarity. It also denotes the struggles the Maasai endure, which bring them together as a people."

Miguel certainly struggled when using that on Gojo.

Yorozu

This is mostly me complaining about what got lost in translation. Yorozu is basically a bug and I cannot wait for her weird insect shtick to get animated.

Best Bug

The first instance of her speech being bug-coded I noticed is when Yorozu yells 斬って (Kitte) 7 times total (7.5 if you count the modified 斬 (ki) at the end.

The Japanese is objectively funnier because Yorozu is screaming "CUT ME!!" over and over like cicada. The English translation gave her a poetic flair she doesn't have.

This also happens with her Domain Expansion 三重疾苦 (Shikkushikku Shikku) where 三重 (Shikkushikku) means triple and 疾苦 (Shikku) means suffering.

Additional context shamelessly stolen from the JJK wiki:

"The kanji shikku (疾苦 (しっく) ) refers to the suffering brought on by illness, affliction, or simply hardship in life. Akutami uses the pronunciation shikku as a pun of the borrowed English word "sick" (シック shikku).

Given Yorozu's excessive love for Sukuna, it is likely that the domain's name references "lovesickness", and specifically a song by Japanese VOCALOID producer PinocchioP (sung by Hatsune Miku) called "Sick Sick Sick" (シックシックシック), which is about how love can be a sickness."

(Btw シックis read as Shikku.)

My best attempt to carry forward the puns and repetition for this domain would be Triply Tristful Tribulations. (Someone please come up with something better.)

Yorozu's death is also bug-coded. Mahoraga literally swats her like a roach.

There's also something to be said about Sukuna refusing to touch her in battle and using anything but his actual body to kill her. That's kind of how most people are when it comes to killing bugs.

Not Bug Related

The thing Yorozu is lounging on in the Heian flashback is a "pillow" called a takamakura. It's a special headrest that was slept on to keep fancy hairstyles intact since they would take hours to prepare.

Since Yorozu's hair is down and she just kind of runs around pussy out while ignoring all the social rules, it speaks to her non-noble heritage. (Remember she was recruited by the Fujiwaras and is from Aizu.) She also has a bad habit of biting her fingernails when she's concentrating.

Another fun detail is that when she declares that she's going to be the one at Sukuna's side. Yorozu directly points at Uraume who is already standing there. This of course, is called back to in the epilogue where Uraume remains at Sukuna's side.

What I really like about this is that Yorozu seems to believe that only a romantic relationship will ease Sukuna's loneliness, and she's proven wrong. The platonic/familial bond with Uraume winds up being the one Sukuna chooses and it's good enough for him. I may be biased, but I appreciate when non-romantic relationships are considered just as satisfying as romantic ones.

I also have to shout out Yorozu for not seeing Uraume as competition. She still wants them around even if she marries Sukuna. It's so easy to have an obsessive character like her be irrationally jealous, but she's basically willing to adopt Uraume which is adorable. (This also goes for Hana, who in a worse manga, would see Tsumiki as competition for Megumi.)

Sukuna

This is just a compilation of my favorite Sukuna girlfailure moments.

Self-Depreciation

"The bough that bear most hang lowest." comes from a proverb that means "those who have the most to offer are often the least boastful, much like tree branches that bend under the weight of their fruit."

When Sukuna tells Jogo that his "head doesn't bear much" he's warning him about his lack of humility (aka not bowing enough) and calling him worthless at the same time. Pretty clever, right?

What makes this a girlfailure moment is that by this logic, Sukuna is inadvertently declaring that he's worth less than the ones he's looking down on and that his arrogance is a sign of posturing. If you pointed this out to him, he'd probably kill you, but it's kind of funny he overlooked the implication.

Manji Kick

When Yuji tries to throw hands with Sukuna after being killed, he tries to kick his gruncle in the face and misses.

This doesn't stop Yuji! Eventually he pulls off a successful Manji Kick against Mahito.

This means that even though Sukuna has dodged this move before, even though he has witnessed Yuji landing this move...

...he somehow managed to get with it in his "strongest" original form.

He Might Be Autistic

I promise I'll elaborate more on Sukuna's autism in a different post, but he's on par with Yuji in taking things at face value sometimes. Here is my favorite example.

He really took his nephew at his word and got punched in the face for it...

The Knives

When Sukuna's technique is first properly introduced, 2 knives represent it. The one on the left is a sujihiki (associated with Dismantle) while the one on the right is a burja (associated with Cleave). Uraume winds up using a burja when cutting the curses for a bath.

The thing about the sujihiki is that it's primarily used for scaling and filleting fish. You know, like for Gojo Satoru, the fish he scaled then bisected with Dismantle. The burja is used for percision cutting which is probably why Uraume uses it for the special preparation of curses. (Burjas also aren't that big, so I'd like to believe that's Sukuna's knife they're using.)

Anyways, I leave you with a panel comparison of Gojo punching Uraume like he did Hakari and Yuta. (Sukuna dodging their flying body will never not be funny.)

Gojo and Sukuna have really questionable ideas about guardianship.

[the-lone-writer94]

Wanted Dead or Alive

Dean Winchester x (You) Female Reader

*Contains Supernatural season 5 spoilers*

Summary: Set in late season 5 after Dean finds out he is the vessel for Michael which he tries to not think about. Hoping that a new job will keep his mind off things. He journeys to Texas where there had been a series of attacks. There he runs into an old flame (You - female reader) the thing is you haven't heard from Dean in four years... and you're pissed. Just how will this little reunion go?  

Age rating: 18+ mature content *Warnings: rough sex (sort of), guns and violence*

Word count: 4,248

Crouched down behind a cluster of trees, my finger on the trigger of the flamethrower gun as my gaze scanned the perimeter before me. I had been tracking this fucker for five days now, which had finally led me here. Perhaps, there were worse ways of spending a Saturday night than sitting in the dirt. At this rate, I wanted nothing more than to gank this thing, call it an evening and return to my cabin where I could throw back several bottles of beer.

Suddenly in the distance, there was a faint sound of shuffling. My jaw clenched, as my hold on the flamethrower tightened. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I slowly ascended from the ground. Gently, I stepped forward, my eyes glued to the shadows before me. The sounds of shuffling grew louder, as I knew I was closing in.

My heartbeat quickened, and the adrenaline pumped through my veins. The shadows before me formed, and I raised my flamethrower and just as I was about to press down, my heart lurched forward. It took me several seconds for my mind to recollect what was before me, and I gasped.

The figures before me did not belong to the monster I had been hunting, but two men. The familiarity of his face returning back to me, as I had once upon a time gazed on.

“Woah, woah…” He said, as he raised his hands in the air.

“Dean… Dean Winchester?” I questioned.

Dean’s face softened, and a smile flashed across his face. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Behind Dean was man that I did not recognize, he was taller than Dean, with long shaggy hair. Even under the night sky, I could make out the dark shadows that laid beneath his eyes.

“Friend of yours.” The other man commented, his lips pursed as if he wasn’t necessarily pleased.

Anger suddenly shot through me, as I lowered my flamethrower. My right fist extended, as I swung and my fist connected with Dean’s face.

Taken aback, Dean fell to the ground, and the man who stood behind Dean’s eyes widened. “Not a friend, I guess.”

Dean remained on the ground as he groaned in pain. “Still got that mean right hook.”

I shifted in my position, and rested my hand on my hip. “That is what you get for never calling me.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

We reached my cabin in Lake Worth, as I pulled up and removed myself from my truck. Behind me I watched as Dean’s Impala came to a halt. After I had a moment’s breath, I had felt a slight sliver of guiltiness after punching Dean in the face, that I decided to swallow whatever anger I had in me and invited him, and who I had learnt to be his brother Sam back to my place.

I stalked towards my front door as I jammed my keys into the lock and pushed the door wide open, with Sam and Dean on my heels. My hand patted against the light switch, which immediately lit up the room.

“I’ll get you some ice for that nose,” I said to Dean, then added, “and don’t touch anything.”

I watched as Sam’s eyes narrowed into something in the distance. “Is that a… stripper pole?” He asked uncomfortably.

“Dude, don’t call her a stripper-” Dean immediately interjected, “believe me.” He warned.

“I teach pole fitness on my days off… girl’s gotta eat.” I answered, before I stalked off, and returned with a bag of ice and three beers.

Dean and Sam had both made themselves comfortable on the couch. I flinched at the sight of Dean’s muddy boots on the couch, as I gently slapped his legs. He removed his feet from the couch and leaned forward, then I shoved the ice pack and beer towards Dean, which he immediately took it, then pressed the ice pack against his nose.

I crossed towards Sam and handed him the bottle of the ice cold beer. “Thanks.” He said.

I took the seat opposite them, in a single chair nearby the window, a stack of classic rock vinyl records just adjacent to the chair, where I had been sorting out for days now, I cracked open the beer and took several long gulps.

“What were you doing out there in the woods?” Dean was the first on to break the silence.

“Hunting.” I answered nonchalantly, as I pulled my duffel bag full of weapons into the center and opened it up.

Sam’s eyes widened, as he inspected my weapons. “These are all military grade stuff- where did you get all this?” He questioned.

“What are you a cop now?” I shot back, then shrugged, “I have my ways.”

Dean chuckled, and then asked. “You’re hunting now?”

I shrugged. “I kill whatever disrupts the town… But I guess, now that you’re here, we’re after the same thing.”

“We read in the paper that there were a string of animialistic like attacks.” Sam added.

I nodded. “The locals thought it was wolf attacks,” I scoffed, “wolves in fucking Texas. Give me a break.” I removed myself from the chair, and crossed towards the living room where I had my guns, and computers scattered on the dining room table. It was evident that I hardly had any company around. I grabbed my computer and handed it to Sam. “I didn’t think too much about it at first, but I saw these videos posted by the victims just before they disappeared. If any random person watched them, they wouldn’t think too much about it, but with a little digitally enhanced programmes, it’s obvious that something was there with them.”

Sam inspected the videos on my laptop, as his eyes widened. “Wow.” He commented.

“God bless people for documenting every inch of their life and posting it onto Myspace.” I added.

“What’s Myspace?” Dean asked.

Sam and I shot him a stare, as we both ignored his remark. “Well, with what I can see in these videos and that flamethrower you had earlier, I can only assume that you’re dealing with a-”

“Wendigo.” I said, cutting off Sam.

Dean cleared his throat, and removed the ice pack from his face. “Sammy and I dealt with a Wendigo couple of years back in Blackwater Ridge, but the one we killed only surfaces every twenty-three years. These killings, seem to have never occurred in Lake Worth before now?”

I shook my head. “This one must be new, and it’s getting busy.” I said, then added, “I don’t know- things have been whack recently, it’s as if every monster out there is getting bold, and coming out from the darkness.”

Dean and Sam stared at each other momentarily, an anxious look painted across their faces. “Yeah, I guess I know why that is.” Dean said.

“What?” I asked.

“The Apocalypse.” Dean answered.

“The what now?” I choked.

Dean glanced down at his feet, “we may have-” he muttered beneath his breath, and then peered up at me. His gaze locked with mine. “We may have had something to do with the Apocalypse.”

I exhaled, remained silent and downed the entire contents of my beer. “Well, that’s just super. I guess there’s nothing else to do but to eat, drink, fuck and gank any evil sons of bitches that crosses my path.”

Dean smirked at my remark, whilst Sam on the other hand didn’t seem to pleased.

“So, what now?” I asked, trying to change the subject. It isn’t everyday that you hear the World is ending, yet, after the shit I had seen, nothing really seemed to surprise me anymore.

“If it’s a Wendigo, then I guess Sam and I will take care of it.” Dean instructed.

“Why do you get to take care of it? I’ve been tracking this thing for five days now.” I shot back, and added, “plus why should I sit back out of the action.”

I knew that Dean had always had a savior complex, wanting to protect everyone around him. I didn’t necessarily blame him, given the way he had been raised and his life. Suddenly, my jaw unclenched and I cleared my throat. “Anyway, that thing didn’t appear tonight, it must have known we were closing in on it. I say we go back there, but this time I’ll play the role of the damsel in distress to smoke it out.”

“Use you as bait?” Dean hissed, “hell no! It’s too dangerous.”

“Dean, I can take care of myself… plus I know you will be there backing me up.” I argued.

Dean’s brows furrowed, he was lost for words. Knowing deep down that I was right, as he tried to conjure up the words to fight me back.

Sam cocked his head to the side. “She’s right, Dean,” he spoke, “we were so close tonight to killing it, but it never appeared. Monsters don’t take day offs. If there’s a bait, I’m sure it’ll take it.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his nostrils flared. “I don’t like this.”

“Of course you don’t,” I commented.

“One bad move… if I see one thing that is too risky, I’m jumping right in.” Dean said in a stern voice.

“Naturally.” I commented, and then added, “well, I’m hungry. How about I make us some food?”

The expression on Dean’s face softened, as he shifted in his position. “I could eat.” He said. My gaze jumped to Sam’s, as he simply nodded.

“How about a bacon cheeseburger with fries, and I’ve got some cherry pie.”

A smile flashed across Dean’s face, he was like a child in a candy store. “Awesome!”

“Hmm… you have maybe like a salad or something?” Sam asked.

I cocked an eyebrow as I stared at Dean. “Is he for real?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m afraid yes.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following morning, Dean and Sam had driven into town for some extra supplies that they needed in order to hunt down the Wendigo. It had been a while since they had been in Texas, and Dean had forgotten just how much he had missed the local cuisine.

Sam waited in the car, whilst Dean picked up a couple of things in a convenience store. Whatever it was, Sam hadn’t asked, in fact, on some level he’d rather not know.

Moments later, Dean returned into the car with a plastic bag full of stuff. His hand extended back as he dumped the bag into the back seat.

“All done.” Dean commented, and added, “let’s head back.”

The Impala roared to life, as they continued down the road. An awkward silence filled the car, and Sam’s gaze bounced from the window and then to Dean.

From Dean’s peripheral vision, he noticed the constant looks Sam was giving him and his jaw clenched. “What now?” He said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Are we not gonna talk about her?” Sam began.

“What’s there to talk about?” Dean said, his eyes remained fixated on the road. “I was in town, read in the papers that there was a series of strange deaths. Turned out it was a nest of vampires that was taunting the cabins down in Lake Worth, one of them being hers. I ganked the sucker, and there’s that.”

Sam scoffed. “I remember that, Dean. It was when I was in college-”

“So what, Sammy?”

Sam leaned forward. “I remember that, that job only took you about two days. Dad said you were gone for a whole week.”

Dean smirked, “Exactly.”

Sam pulled a face. “One week to you is the longest relationship you’ve ever been in. Clearly, this girl meant something to you.”

“What? No, she’s cool,”

“She’s literally you, Dean.”

“We have a lot in common, yes- oh man, you know she does this thing on the pole-”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear this.”

“Like it’ll ever work… we can’t afford attachments in this job,” Dean shot back, “and now with all this crap about the Apocalypse, and Michael wanting to wear me like a meat suit.” He sighed, “I got bigger shit to deal with.”

Sam held his gaze with Dean’s. There was no denying that ever since they had unleashed Lucifer from his cage, and brought upon the end of the world, that the word complicated wasn’t even enough to describe everything. Sam knew that Dean was too hot headed and stubborn to see what was in front him, but Sam couldn’t help but ponder what would happen to Dean if Sam were to give up himself to Lucifer, trapping himself down in Hell, if they failed to retrieve the rest of the rings from the Four Horseman.

“Look, Dean-” Sam began.

“I don’t wanna hear it Sammy!” Dean shot back, “let’s just do what we do best, kill this thing and move on.” He ordered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time had certainly stood still, as I sat uncomfortably in my tent awaiting for the Wendigo to come and claim me. Beneath the tent, we had drawn Anasazi symbols, hoping for an advantage on my behalf. The flamethrower gun laid beside me, concealed underneath a blanket. I wasn’t even sure if the Wendigo would take the bait, but after all, this was the only way. Knowing that the Winchesters were only a mere distance away.

Suddenly, a faint sound of rustling reached my ears. My hand immediately threw away the blanket over the flamethrower gun as I held it and unzipped the tent. Annoyance had found me as my vision fixated on what the noise had belonged to. Before me was a wild rabbit that hopped across from my tent.

I groaned, “Seriously, dude,” as the impatience was growing on me.

All of a sudden, whilst I was lost in thought, in the speed of light claw marks had appeared on the side of the tent. Taken aback, I felt a force grab onto my legs as it pulled me away from the tent, causing my hands to slip away from the flamethrower. Everything had happened so fast, and in a blur, that it took my mind several moments to recollect what had just happened before me.

I stared up, and looked into the eyes of the creature that had taken me. It’s venomous glare latched on and gawked deep into my eyes, the folds on its face, and the razor sharp teeth gleamed underneath the moonlit sky. It growled as it watched me like prey. How was it possible that this thing had managed to cross over the Anasazi symbols that I had etched on the ground?

The Wendigo was fast and I knew we were now a while away from the tent and the boys. I was utterly on my own in this one.

Backed into a corner, the Wendigo towered over me. Immediately, I reached for my knife concealed in my boot. I knew that weapons were useless against it, but I hoped that it would somehow slow it down before I thought of my next move. In one swift motion, the knife glided across the Wendigo’s arm, it hardly flinched before I shot aside and tried to make a run for it.

The action was useless as the Wendigo grabbed onto me and cast me aside as if I had weighed a feather. My back collided against the tree and I hissed in pain.

I reached for the gun in the waistband of my jeans, as I fired once, twice, and again, and again. It did nothing on the Wendigo, and it continued to stalk towards me. With its large hands it pushed aside the gun, immediately it wrapped his hand around my neck as I felt the air disppearing from my lungs. It hoisted me up, as I tried to claw its grip away from me. My vision began to blur, as I was trying my hardest to hold onto the sliver of life in me I had left.

With the small amount of strength, I managed to pull another knife from the breastpocket of my leather jacket. I plunged it into the Wendigo’s neck, pulling it out and then stabbing it repeatly. It was finally enough to irritate the thing, as it roared in annoyance.

Unexpectly, a shot emerged in the distance, followed by an orange and yellow ablaze. The Wendigo was caught off guard, and shrieked as it tried to conceal themself from the light. The hold over my neck had been released and I slumped to the ground, coughing violently as I tried to catch my breath.

I watched as Dean and Sam appeared, it wasn’t long before the Wendigo charged towards them. Just when Dean raised the flare gun, the Wendigo had knocked it out of his hand and cast him aside. Immediately, Sam raised the flamethrower gun and aimed it towards the Wendigo, but within seconds the Wendigo had pushed Sam down.

The Wendigo stalked towards Dean as it towered over him, he lowered himself down onto the ground, and growled. His razor sharp teeth exposed as he was about devour Dean.

Dean stabbed the Wendigo in the eye, which caused it to stagger backwards, as Dean immediately rolled over to the side.

I crawled over towards the flamethrower, as I reached for it and pushed myself onto standing. “Swallow this, asshole.” I said, as I pressed down onto the trigger, and it sent a fiery ablaze straight towards the Wendigo as it ignited, followed by the screeching sounds of pain as we watched it burn.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

After I had taken a shower, immediately feeling like a brand new person, I put on a tight white tank top that read Hooters a gag gift from my friends one Christmas, and a pair of black short shorts. I stalked out into the living room. I watched as Dean packed up his belongings, and all of a sudden, a sense of melonchony washed over me.

Dean zipped up his duffel bag and cleared his throat as our gaze met. “Sam’s just out getting some stuff, but once he’s back we’ll be out of your hair.”

“So you’re just going to leave like that again, huh?” I hissed.

Dean shook his head and pressed down onto his temples. “Please, don’t-”

“Listen, Dean. I’m not the kinda girl that dreams of the perfect white wedding, and wants to fucking slow dance to Lady in Red. But four years! I don’t hear from you in all that time. I thought you were dead!” I argued.

Dean exhaled, and closed his eyes. “I can’t-” he began, and then paused.

“Fine. Go!” I snapped, as I stepped towards him and pushed him.

“Come on, don’t-” he said.

I shoved him again hard. His jaw clenched, and he grabbed a hold of my wrists. Our gazes locked, and my breathing quickened. Dean’s hand reached up and his fingers became knotted in my hair. He tugged at it, as he closed the gap between us, his lips crashed down onto mine. My lips parted as his tongue slipped inside. I felt the urgency behind his kiss, and I pushed him against the wall. He groaned, but he didn’t seem to care. We continued to kiss, but it wasn’t long before his hands reached down to my hips and turned me around, my body slammed against the wall. He hoisted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, as we continued to make out. My fingers found its way in his hair as I pulled onto it hard. He grunted, and I felt the bulge forming in his pants.

He placed me down, as his hand slithered towards my crotch. With his other hand he pulled my hair and drew back. “Is this what you want?” He said, and I felt his hot breath caress my skin.

I nodded.

“Say it.” He ordered.

“Yes.”

Dean’s hand found its way behind my underwear, almost immediately I felt two fingers inserted into me. I gasped, and wrapped my arms around his neck. His fingers went in and out, then out and in again, as I grew wetter. I threw my head back and bit down on my lower lip.

His fingers continued to thrust into me, as my nails dug into the back of his neck, plunging them deep into his skin. I quivered, and moaned louder, just then Dean removed his fingers from me.

“You don’t get to come just yet.” He whispered in my ear.

He then carried me to the bedroom, and  threw me down onto the mattress, before he climbed on top of me. Immediately, my hands reached up to him as I grabbed onto the ends of his shirt and ripped it open, revealing his chest. It was then that I noticed the tattoo on his left side of his chest, which was new to me. My hands caressed his broad shoulders, before they drifted down to his muscular biceps.

I felt Dean’s hands on my body, as he tugged at my top, hoisting it up. His hands cupped my breasts as he lowered himself down, his wet tongue caressed against my now hardened nipples and I moaned, and felt a wetness down between my legs.

I sat up and my fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, hurriedly, I unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, as I stroked his bulge, before I pulled down his briefs. My hand gently gripped around his length, as I stared up at him through my eyelashes, before I lowered my mouth onto his cock. My tongue glided across the head of his cock, and then I took it all in, and tasted him. I heard Dean moan, as I felt his fingers running through my hair as he pushed my head deeper down into him. He thrusted into me, as I allowed him to fuck my mouth.

He pulled away and raised his hand towards my face, as his tumb grazed over my mouth and he smirked, knowing that my lips were stained with his precum.

Dean kicked away his pants, as he climbed onto the bed, he grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around, pushing his body into my back, as his hand cupped at my throat and pressed down. Enough for me to feel his force but not hard enough that I was actually choking, and gasping for air.

And then I felt him enter me, his thick and long cock inside of me as I moaned, almost immediately he began to thrust into me, fast and hard. I quivered, and my hand slithered down my body as I was about to touch my clit. Suddenly, Dean grabbed my hand and pulled it away.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said, as he took both of my hands behind my back, holding down onto it.

I squirmed beneath his touch, as his other hand was draped across my chest holding me up, knowing that at this moment I belonged to him.

Dean continued to thrust into me hard, as he buried his face into my neck, I heard his low and deep grunts, as I called out his name in pleasure, which seemed to excite him, as I felt him thrusting harder and harder into me, my tits bounced up and down, as Dean’s hand grabbed down onto my breasts, squeezing onto them, hard.

I felt myself wanting to come, as my body quivered. Dean moaned in pleasure, and I knew he was nearing his release.

“It’s okay, shoot your load in me.” I said in a breathless voice.

Dean released the grip on my hands, as I reached up towards him and pulled his face close to mine, my fingers grazed along the stubble on his jawline and my lips found his. My lips parted and he stuck his tongue down my mouth.

Dean grunted as he released into me, and I felt his cum pumped into me. He heaved, and I tried to catch my breath, as he pulled out. I slumped down onto the bed, as did he, and we laid beside each other gazing up at the ceiling.

Once, Dean and I had cleaned ourselves up. I walked him towards the front door, we paused by the threshold, as Sam sat in the Impala in the distance.

Dean turned towards me.

“So,” I said awkwardly. “I’m sorry I was too hard on you earlier, I get it… your line of work, attachments are-” I paused.

Dean shook his head. “You had every right to be mad.”

“Still, I’m sorry for punching you in the face,” I said and smirked, “and for shoving you earlier.”

“I sorta deserved it… plus that was some sweet lovin’” He said, and laughed, then cleared his throat, “well, let’s just say when I’m on the road, I’ll find some time to call, and check in. And if I’m ever in town… this will be a stop, and you can do that thing you did on that pole.” Dean said, and raised his eyebrow.

I smiled, and playfully slapped him across the arm. “I wouldn’t protest to that.”

Dean towered over me, as I tiptoed to kiss him on the lips. He lowered himself down, as his lips found mine, we had lost track of how long we had been making out, and no doubt that Sam was probably growing irritated.

We finally pulled apart, as I watched Dean turn on his heels, and step into the Impala as I watched him drive away into the distance.

[texasexperttree]

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[thedialoguedilemma]

The Dilemma Bulletin: Friday January 24th, 2025

Keeping you informed about the daily events of the Trump Administration

Trump’s Sec of Defense nominee Pete Hegseth receives a tie confirmation vote in the Senate with Republican Senators Murkowski, Collins, and McConnell joining all Democrats in voting no. This comes after multiple accounts submitted by Hegseth’s family member detail his alcoholic and violent past.

Vice President JD Vance votes to confirm Pete Hegseth as the Secretary of Defense after tie vote in the Senate.

Trump visits Asheville, North Carolina to survey Hurricane Helene efforts after his party sabotaged the federal government response to the recovery efforts.

Trump visits Southern California meeting with California Governor Gavin Newsom and elected officials to survey wildfire damage after his party refuses to guarantee California non conditional federal assistance.

Trump threatens to sign an Executive Order completely overhauling or getting rid of FEMA altogether. States such as Florida, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas would pay billions in natural disaster aid from their state budgets alone if FEMA is banished.

Chicago Public Schools confirm Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) have tried to enter a Chicago elementary school with teachers and staff refusing them entry. ICE claims that these were not their agents.

Trump removes security detail for Anthony Fauci after him and his followers threatened his safety on a repeated basis as he worked tirelessly to save their lives during the Pandemic.

Target rolls back on their DEI policies as Costco defends their DEI policies.

Trump floats the idea of only sending California federal aid for Wildfires if they implement Voter ID which has nothing to do with wildfires. These same conditions would not be applied to North Carolina.

According to TIME Magazine (who named Trump their Person of the Year 2024) 2/3rds of his Executive Actions so far can be traced to Project 2025 after Trump claimed not to know anything of it.

Trump boasts of his “scientific ability” assessing how California can suck water out of its trees and how he may sign an Executive Order to release valves from Northern California and Canada. This is not how trees work and these valves would not work.

Trump talks about how Democrats use the environment to make themselves “feel good” and claims Dems will be talking about asbestos soon. Asbestos is widely banned from being used in the US due to health risks.