#Antique Italian Fireplaces

[myancientsurfaces]

The Complex Beauty of Reclaimed Limestone Mantles in Living Rooms

In the spacious living room overlooking the ocean, the reclaimed limestone mantle serves as a focal point that ties the room’s luxurious elements together. The mantle’s intricate carvings and timeworn texture add a sense of history and authenticity, perfectly complementing the serene, high-end coastal atmosphere. It enhances the room’s grandeur, making it a place where the beauty of the outdoors…

[vintagehomecollection]

House & Garden’s Best in Decoration, 1987

[denismilovanovworkshop]

Bedroom Guest (Atlanta)

[demonwolfgoodies]

Open Living Room

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Just saw that my lovely vampire's home sold. Beautiful 1874 brick Italianate home in Newcomerstown, OH has 4bds, 3ba, 3,289 sq ft, sold for $450K, which I thought was a bargain, but Zillow says it's worth $391,100 and I wonder why. Anyway, let's take another look and bid it a fond adieu.

Stunning double entrance doors. This home is also fully air conditioned.

Look at this. I can't see what's in that niche, but the mural is a little bit creepy.

This is definitely sophisticated Vampire elegance. When you open the doors, this is what you see- a splendid staircase flanked by 2 arched doorways.

How is this gorgeous home only $450K? Look at this sitting room. The walls, ceiling, fireplace. It's just stunning.

The walls and ceilings in the dining room are all wood. Gorgeous millwork. Love the chandeliers. And, look at the crooked candles in the antique candélabres.

Is this not gorgeous? And note the discreet door to the staff stairs.

I'm not thrilled w/their kitchen reno. It's too rustic and spread out.

The fridge is in the dining area. The cabinets, however are adorable w/the petite design on the doors.

The rest of the home is so elegant, why the heavy beams with the lovely cabinetry?

The everyday dining area next to the kitchen.

A parlor. Lovely fireplace, colors and trims.

Even the hall is beautiful. Look at the domed door.

Off the hall is a gothic bath. How incredible is that millwork & stained glass window (which still makes me wonder, why the rustic kitchen?). The flooring looks original.

Note the lit niches on the way up the stairs in the entrance. They lead up to a sitting room with a fireplace.

What a lovely original looking bedroom. Love the fireplace, light fixture and medallion. Look at the door w/the 2 windows. That's unusual.

I wonder what's going on w/the molding, though. Why is it partially painted?

And, this is a little side room. Isn't this fabulous?

What a royal looking bath.

Love the ceiling in this bedsitting room.

This is nice- look at the floor.

Upper floor must've been the servants quarters. Look at this architecture and the lighting. Plus that little room in the belvédère.

Look at this. I can't believe that this house went for $450K. It makes me sick.

Outside, they can take their old truck thingy outta here, I guess. There's a horse barn.

Large field for horses. Doesn't get any better than this.

4.40 Acres. Look at how huge the property is. That one parcel goes way back.

Photo taken during the restoration. ($450K!)

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/59740-County-Road-9-Newcomerstown-OH-43832/118457346_zpid/

[ghostchems]

on leather wings - papa emeritus iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

a/n: it's finally here! 2.7k words. fucking, fingering, rough sex kind of, copia being adorable, etc. etc. mdni! 18+! hoping to get myself out of writer's block with this one :') ao3 link! and yes... i named this after an ep of btas

You step out of the car, a ghoul quick to take your bag from you, and you are met with a black Victorian home with an impeccably nurtured lawn. It looks warm and inviting, like there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you inside. You make your way down the short gravel path to the front door, entering the code you had been texted not long ago. The latch clicks and you twist the knob, pushing the door open and stepping into the dark foyer. A chandelier hangs in the center of the room, dimly lighting the intricate black and red wallpaper and the antique mahogany display case that is filled with witchy decor. A small smile flickers across your face as another ghoul enters the room and whisks you away down a hallway.

At the end of it is a grand dining room with a lush fireplace heating the room. You immediately see him, standing behind the chair at the head of the table, dressed in his usual tattered suit and blue cravat. 

“Ah, amore, you made it! I hope the instructions, eh, weren’t too… confusing. I was quite a bit excited when I wrote them.” Papa clasps his hands together in delight. He saunters over to you, his lips pulled into a wide grin. You are quick to meet him, his hands reaching to hold onto your arms and stroke along the backs of your elbows. “How are you? How was the drive, eh?”

“I’m good and it all went smoothly but, Copia, what is all this? Is something going on?” You are excited of course but you can’t help but feel concern. Something about this – the instructions, the ghouls, the dining room table lined with delicious food – has a last night on Earth vibe. The broad smile on his face helps ease the feelings though.

“Nothing to worry about, amore.” Copia can sense your unease, his words light and even. “This is a treat for you and I, something different… something nice, something just for us.” He gives you a knowing look. Copia was never one to complain about his duties even when he was at the brink of exhaustion but it pained him to let it affect your relationship. There’s been less time for you in his schedule and while you understand that his role is extremely important to the Clergy there were times you felt a bit overlooked.

“I was thinking about dinner and then maybe a movie, eh? A classic date.” He is adorable and you can’t get over it. There’s something about Copia in this setting that makes your heart race and your cheeks red. Your eyes flicker around the dining room again, thinking that maybe the two of you would have ended up in a home like this if they lived drastically different lives. 

“That sounds… perfetto.” Copia’s face lights up at your poor sounding Italian. He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, intimate embrace. His breath tickles your ear and he gives it a soft nip before pulling away and squeezes your arms once again. 

A movie night that won’t get interrupted by Sister Imperator or one of her secretaries? Your face lights up. It’s been so long since the two of you were able to enjoy each other’s company without some kind of interruption.

Dinner truly is perfect. He made you your favorite: seafood fra diavolo and he makes sure to give you extra shrimps since they are your favorite. Copia has your wine glass filled every time it goes below halfway and he is constantly asking how the food is and if you need anything, anything at all. Copia’s gaze hardly leaves you, he spends most of the dinner holding your hand, playing with your fingers, that you end up almost yelling at him to actually eat between small giggles. 

Having him to yourself like this is almost overwhelming. Gradually, after you’ve finished forcing Copia to enjoy his own food, the two of you make your way to the cozy, witchy den and onto the couch. 

“What movie? I’m sure you already have one picked out.” You shift closer to him on the couch, your knees touching now. Copia takes the blanket beside him and opens it, draping it across the two of you before he leans against you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Ovviamente.” He breathes against the shell of your ear. “Bram Stoker’s Dracula, if you are still in a, eh, spooky mood.” You can feel him smile into your neck and you suck in a sharp breath, snuggling even further against him under the blanket. 

“That’s perfect.” Your voice drops to a whisper. Copia’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you in even closer to him and nestling you against his chest before starting the movie. It feels almost magical that you’re able to sit here with your love in comfortable silence while watching one of your favorite movies. There’s never any silence at the abbey, not until the later hours of the evening when you’re finally able to see Copia after a long day of his duties. The only interruption comes close to the end of the movie when his lips press to your neck, sending a thrill down your spine.

“I have a surprise for you. Una piccola sorpresa.” Copia murmurs against your hair, feeling his breath huff against you. “Meet me upstairs, per favore? Give me like, eh… ten minutes?” You tilt your head up to look at him, taking in the soft smile on his face and you give a small nod. He presses a kiss to your forehead and gets up from the couch, leaving you alone in the den. 

This all feels so special. More special than anything he’s ever done for you in the past. You know why it had to be a secret. You would have told him to get some rest instead of planning an elaborate weekend for the two of you. He deserved to have time to himself, to relax after touring the world with the ghouls. But it was just like him to want to spend that time doing something nice for you. This is the first time the two of you have been able to get away from the abbey since you started seeing each other.

And it’s perfect. Your eyes sweep over the den, the spooky decor and interior making you feel right at home. You’re already buzzed from the Papastrello and you feel cozy under the blankets. The grandfather clock in the room ticks away, your eyes fixated on the time, mindfully counting down until ten minutes had passed. You can’t keep your Papa waiting. 

After the minutes go by, you start to head up the stairs, anticipation in your steps. The door to the bedroom is slightly open and you try to get a peek into the dim room but you don’t see Copia. You push the door open with a small creak and you immediately hear Copia groan from the bathroom, which stops you in your tracks. You’re sure you’re not too early… but you don’t want to disturb him even though it sounds like he could use some help. You push the door open a bit more, slowly and step inside.

“Amore? Is that you?” Copia asks in a hushed whisper, stress hanging in his voice. For a moment you’re too anxious to answer but you manage to squeak out a response.

“It is.”

“Oh, bene bene.” He sighs, his relief evident in his voice. “I am, ugh, having some trouble with the surprise.” 

“How can I help?” You are quick to make your way to the bathroom door, trying to listen in to what’s happening on the other side.

“Fuck. It’ll ruin la sorpresa.” He grumbles to himself “I-I’m sorry you couldn’t see me, eh, completely done.” Before you’re able to tell him not to be sorry at all he emerges from the bathroom and your mind goes completely blank. Even in the lowlight you can see the blush creeping up his freckled shoulders and cheeks. Copia is wearing nothing but a small pair of black briefs, his black gloves with skeleton details and half of his batwing harness, having secured it through one of his arms but not the other. “I, heh, usually have some help getting these on.” 

Your mouth opens but you can’t manage words, making an embarrassing grunt as you nod and move in to help him. The leather straps to the harness are smooth in your hands and you work to make sure the other wing is secure before moving to his chest. A breath catches in your throat as your fingers brush along his chest, nails lightly scratching at his chest hair while you pull the leather straps through their buckles. Your cheeks are already burning and you hear your heart thunder in your ears. A groan leaves his lips, his hot breath grazing your forehead which makes your eyes flicker up to his. 

Copia’s eyes are dark with devilish lust, his lips parted as he sucks in a sharp breath the second your eyes meet his. His securely fastened arm reaches for you, fingertips slipping underneath the hem of your top to tug you in closer to him by the waist. By the time you finish the last buckle, he has you pressed to his chest with your arms trapped between the two of you. He lifts his other hand to grip you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at him. Your noses are almost touching as your eyes drop to look at his lips.

“Do you like it, amore?” Copia murmurs huskily, his lips hovering so close. You want to tell him that this means the world to you but the way he is looking at you makes it hard to speak. Your lips graze his painted ones so lightly, eyes flickering up to meet his hungry gaze before they squeeze shut as you finally kiss him. The air leaves your lungs when his tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of him enough to take your breath away. Your hands curl around the leather straps to hold onto him as he backs you into an antique desk. 

He already has your pants almost off, his hand slipping down the front of your underwear and wasting no time feeling your slick. You moan from his touch, a finger pushing inside of you with ease. Copia shudders and presses his hips to your thigh, his cock throbbing through his tight briefs. He buries his face in your neck as he starts to desperately grind against your thigh while he fingers you, sharp gasps and groans muffled against you. You’re almost light headed by how quickly things have escalated but that doesn’t stop you from slipping your hand between the two of you.

“Do you feel how wet you make me, Papa?” You breathe and he answers with a whine. You push down his briefs, his cock springing free and you take it in your hand, giving it long, languid strokes. Copia shivers, his entire body pausing to take in how good your fingers feel wrapped tightly around him. He lifts his head slowly and your gaze meets his, his pupils blown so wide with lust that they are nearly completely black. You stroke him a few more times before letting go and leaning back on the desk. He huffs at the loss but ends up sucking in a sharp breath as you start to remove your blouse. You take your time, putting on a show for him, making him wait to see you fully. The blouse finally falls from your shoulders and he immediately grabs you, his mouth crushing against yours as his cock presses close to your entrance. 

You moan deeply into his mouth and your hands find the leather straps of his harness again, holding onto them tightly. Copia drives his cock into you with a lewd grunt, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other digs into your hip as he fucks into you. It’s rough and possessive, his thighs slapping into yours with each desperate thrust. The desk beneath the two of you rattles with each violent jerk of his hips and you can’t help but hold onto him for dear life. You feel your climax growing inside of you, your abdomen tightening and your legs starting to tense up. He hooks one of his arms beneath your knee and raises your leg up, allowing him to push even deeper inside of you.

You throw your head back and cry out, the new sensation of his cock massaging your deepest, most sensitive spots making your walls flex around him. Copia is panting heavily between whines and growls, his head lowering even further to mouth and lick at your breasts. He groans into your chest and you feel the vibration throughout your body. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge when his full lips find one of your nipples and he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. You come undone then and there, shockwaves gripping your body and your walls clenching around his throbbing cock. A growl catches in his throat as he spills inside of you, his hips jerking wildly before slowly coming to a stop. His heavy breathes fill your ear, your hands still firmly holding his harness as he finally lifts his head and takes a step back to give you some space. 

“I, eh, got a little carried away.” Copia sighs and runs a hand over his face, his paints already smeared. “You are just too irresistible, amore.” You can see a light blush on his cheeks just underneath his paints as your fingers start to trace along his full lips. 

“Oh, hush.” You smile before chewing on your lower lip. “Sit on the bed. I want to admire your wings.” You gently start to push him toward the bed and he lets you, allowing you to guide him until he reaches the edge. He sits and you push him further so that his back is against the headboard. You slip into his lap and your hands immediately go back to his harness, fingertips grazing where the leather straps and his chest meet. Copia gives a low purr as he leans his head back against the headboard, his eyes falling shut as he basks in your touch.

You’re finally able to get a good look at him now, your eyes taking in how the harness shapes his strong chest. He always looked good in it on stage but this is so much more intimate. The dark straps of the harness stand stark against his bare skin framing his broad chest and extenuating his bulging pecs. Touring had been good to him building softly toned muscle underneath his soft curves that never failed to drive you wild. Now you had him beneath you you couldn't keep your hands off him, tracing where the straps sat snug against his skin, his fluffy body hair tickling your fingertips. They drift over his 666 tattoo while your other hand moves down one of his arms, touching at the strap at his wrist and the tips of his leather wings. He huffs and starts to run his hand up and down your back, his wing brushing against it as his gloved fingers glide down your spine. 

“I love you.” The words tumble from your lips once your eyes meet. He makes the smallest, sweetest sound of affection, as the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile before nuzzling into your neck. You feel him squirm beneath you, trying to allow you to continue touching him but his fingers twitch until he finally gives up. Copia’s arms curl against you, pulling you against his chest. His wings press into your bareback, wrapping around your naked body in a way that feels so safe. He holds you there, safe in his embrace, and you don’t dare let him go. Copia raises his lips to your ear.

“Ti ameró per sempre. I am with you always, amore.”

[salchat]

I just posted another little addition to my Secret Flowers series.

Grapevines

Dean had pizza dough stuck under his fingernails. He picked some of it out, rolled it in a ball and flicked it into the fireplace - which wasn’t a great idea, because it would be a while before they’d light the fire again.

He stretched and yawned, his arms reaching out past the arm of the couch, feet waggling at the other end. His t-shirt dragged across his sweaty skin, exposing his abs to the sultry air. He yawned again and glanced at the old clock on the mantelpiece. Cas had found it in an antique shop, brought it home and set it between the cactus-guys, who danced frantically every time it chimed.

The pizza dough still had a while to rise. Dean had put it in the cellar, because he wanted it to rise slowly - the flavour would develop more that way - and it was too hot everywhere else. Air-conditioning. That should have come way higher up on Dean's list than building a pizza oven. And higher than constructing a big wooden framework to make an outside dining area off the side of the porch, because Cas had wanted to pretend he was Italian, or at least in Italy. A pergola, Cas called it.

“We can dine al fresco,” he’d said, his eyes easily as blue as the summer sky. “And I can train grape vines and flowers to grow over the framework so that they hang down all around us. It’ll be beautiful, Dean.”

It was beautiful. But still, air-conditioning would have been nice.

Read on AO3

[somethingkindazainy]

♡ Pairing: Minho x Jisung ♤ Genre: Mafia AU, Romeo x Romeo ♢ Chapter Warnings: Violence, foul language throughout ♧ MINORS DNI

♤ ♡ TASTE Synopsis & Chapter List ♢ ♧

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧ Chapter 2 - The DLC >>

Chapter 1: Parley

♤ ♡September 2024♢ ♧

Jisung rolls the ice in his crystal glass. 

He’s never had patience. Waiting doesn’t suit him. 

Nothing about this suits him. 

He is sat at the head of a long, mirror-polished, oak table, staring absently at the oil painting above the ornate fireplace. It’s an old piece, all cracked, yellow varnish and soot stains. It depicts a river surrounded by Italian architecture of some place called Verona. It’s bleak and boring and Jisung hates it.

He hates everything about this room. From the long, elegant cream curtains draped over tall windows, the marble busts and antique vases on plinths, to the smell of wood polish and leather. Everything carefully chosen and displayed to say; see what we can afford? See how powerful we have become?

Mostly though, he hates the dark and dingy painting above the horrible marble fireplace. That, and the collar of his shirt.

“Leave it,” Chris says now as Jisung hooks his finger into the collar, trying to make room for his airway.

“I hate this,” Jisung whines, his shirt as soft as cardboard. How do Chris and Jeongin dress like this everyday? “Are they late yet?”

“They still have fifteen minutes,” Changbin says from the bar at the corner as he necks a shot of soju. He’s uncomfortable too, though Jisung knows that it’s not because of his suit. It’s being here, in this place. “They’ll be on time. Perfectly punctual.”

“I said leave it,” Chris smacks the back of Jisung's hand. Jisung sticks his tongue out at him but complies. Dropping his hand on the table. Chris sighs, “And can you cool it with the alcohol? I need you on your toes.”

“We’re meeting with the Clowder's,” Changbin says, “I’m gonna drink.”

The Clowder's are the only family his family, the Lobos, have ever considered a real threat. They shared a visceral loathing of one another. Decades ago, with some ancestor or other, in a bid to end bloodshed, the families agreed to stay away from each other. They divided up Seoul city into theirs and ours and that’s all Jisung has ever known. Which streets he could walk and which ones to steer clear of. 

Arranging parley with any opposing family or faction has never been easy, and they were almost never pleasant. But the parley’s Jisung had sat in on before always had the same advantages; they are the most powerful. They are the most influential. They hold sway. Those meetings went the way they wanted them to go because, ultimately, the Lobos are better. But with the Clowder’s…well, it’s like looking through muddy water. They’re pretty evenly matched, financially and influentially.

Parley’s between the two families have always been a blue moon event, but even Jisung knows that blue moons happen more frequently. Aside from that awful night almost exactly one month ago, the previous parley between the two families had happened when their mother was fourteen years old. Which, to Jisung's mind, means anywhere between 30 and a thousand years ago. 

That didn’t mean that the families didn’t communicate. Occasionally, a matter would occur where representatives from each house would have to liaise about potential issues. For example, if a gang member was getting lippy, you’d want to check whether they had affiliation with the other family before dealing out a bit of ‘justice’. It’s the honourable, gentlemanly, thing to do after all.

Cool, calm, level-headed Chris has always been the representative, or official go-between. Working in the background, keeping things peaceful. Apparently, keeping peace between opposing families is easier than between his own brothers as Changbin and Jeongin exchange expletives.

“Give me strength,” Chris directs his plea to the gold leaf rose on the high ceiling, “it’s a parley. We’ve had them before.”

“Not with that family,” Changbin says, as he necks his third shot in as many minutes. “It’s a big fucking mistake. Especially after the fucking…” he waves a hand above his head trying to capture the word, “—kerfuffle we had the other month.”

“Kerfuffle?” Jeongin chuckles. He’s leaning back in his chair, idly spinning his switchblade on his palm, flipping it around his long fingers. He tips his head back to look at Changbin upside down, pointing lazily at Jisung, “It’s this mi-chin nom’s fault that it became a ‘kerfuffle’.”

Jisung groans. Chris reaches over to fix Jisung’s tie.

“Don’t listen to them, Hannie,” Chris says, and his tone could be mistaken for that of sincere brotherly affection, if he wasn’t currently garroting Jisung with his own fucking tie. “It’s because of your actions that today is possible.”

Jisung groans again.

“You’ve got this. Just stick to the margins Mother agreed and you’ll be fine.” He straightens Jisung's (borrowed) gold tie clip, pats his chest.

“What if I fuck up?”

“Then we’ll laugh,” Jeongin says, giggling.

“No we fucking won’t,” Changbin says, “Don’t you fucking laugh, Innie.”

Jeongin grins at him.

“You won’t fuck up,” Chris says. “Just stick to what we rehearsed. Stick to the margins Mother set out—”

“She’s punishing me,” Jisung is thinking more about her forcing him to wear a suit and cuff links when he says it. Which makes him seem vain, and he decides he probably is. 

“She’s… refocusing you. She wants you to be more… inclined to the family business,” Chris, ever the diplomat, chooses his words carefully, but he doesn’t look at all happy about it. 

“She, she, she,” Changbin says bitterly from behind them. “You’d jump off the Han River bridge if that woman—”

Chris throws Changbin a look that instantly silences him.

Jeongin snorts, “Want me to share with her that you called her ‘that woman’? You won’t be jumping off any bridge, but pushed, wearing concrete shoes.” He raises a hand, his grin wide and his eyes mere slits, “I volunteer to do the pushing.”

Changbin grins sweetly at him, casually pulls his suit jacket aside, revealing his shoulder holster and an ominous glint of silver.

“Try it,” Jeongin is still smiling, flipping his switchblade to point in Changbin's direction. 

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” Chris snaps. He scratches absently at his scarred eyebrow. His cheeks puff out as he exhales. “You,” he points at Changbin, stop drinking. “And you,” he directs his finger to Jeongin, “Put that away before I find somewhere to put it,” he enunciates the last two words, arching his eyebrow, the threat silent but very loud of where the knife may be put.

Jeongin closes the blade, slips it into the shoulder holster he wears under his waistcoat. Whilst Chris is distracted, Changbin necks another shot.

Distantly, there is the sound of barking. Jisung stiffens. 

“Okay,” Chris rises to his feet, buttoning up his jacket before he adjusts his own tie. “Remember, stick to the margins. You’ll be fine. You won’t have any trouble with Nikko. He’s a pussy cat.”

“They’re all pussies,” Jeongin says as he stands, pulling his jacket from the back of his chair and shaking it out before he pulls it on. Changbin comes to stand on Jisung's right, silently fixes Jeongin’s suit collar.

Taking their lead, Jisung starts to rise, but Chris claps a hand on his shoulder. “No, you’re tabling, so you stay seated. We sit after the guests do.”

“Don’t call them guests,” Changbin says as he rolls his shoulders. “Fuck me. Calling them ‘guests’ suggests that we are about to have a fucking tea party.”

“Intruders?” Jeongin offers, dropping a hand into one of his trouser pockets. He’s all legs and perfect skin and glossy hair and elegance. It’s so fucking unfair. How the fuck did his parents let this kid go?

“No, ‘intruders’ suggests that I’m allowed to dispatch them. Don’t put that idea in my head.”

They smile wryly at each other. Chris clears his throat. It’s a final warning.

Jisung tries to straighten up in the uncomfortable leather of the hard chair. Maybe this is why his shirt is overly starched? As he squares his shoulders, raises his head, he can breathe a little easier. Funny thing that.

Distantly, he hears car doors, footsteps on gravel, stone steps, then the marble tiles of the entrance hall. He interlaces his hands together on the table in front of him. In part, to try and give him an air of authority, but mostly to try and stop his hands shaking.

“Show time,” Chris says, folding his hands in front of his belt. From down here, Chris cuts an impressive figure with his broad shoulders and squared jaw. And again, Jisung wonders why the hell he is standing, when he should be sat here, at the head of the table.

The large oak double doors swing in and open, held there by two minders, all dark suits and intimidation their guns openly displayed. Then enter the ‘guests’.

Jisung knows them, mostly by reputation.

Hwang “The Artist” Hyunjin, swift and lethal, who, like Jisung and Jeongin, favours bladed weapons. In the daylight, he’s taller than Jisung remembers. All lithe and elegant, with long blonde hair and serious eyes.

Lee “Bright Smile” Yongbokki, who prefers to be called Felix, which is fitting, since he’s a cat. Hand-to-hand combat specialist, with black belts in various martial arts. A pocket sized pain in the hole. Unfairly pretty, with freckles dusting his nose. His hair is blonde too, but the shade takes on a cooler tone than that of his older brother.

Kim “The Gambit” Seungmin, the youngest of the Clowder clan and probably the most dangerous man in this room, if words could kill. Always five steps ahead of everyone else, a mathematical and tactical genius with a sharp tongue. He’s carrying a briefcase, his short black hair swept away from his face. His black rimmed glasses perched high on the bridge of his nose. And—

“Lee—Lee Minho,” Jisung stands, flattening his tie. “I didn’t—we weren’t expecting you—”

Beside him, Chris cracks his neck.

“Han Jisung,” Minho smiles coolly as his eyes briefly scan the marble statues and paintings and overall grandeur of the room, before returning his focus to Chris, then to Jisung. “Are you tabling the parley this afternoon?”

“Er—” Jisung says very intelligently, “Yes.”

Minho nods, “I apologise, but my brother Nikko is caught up in a bit of business elsewhere. I hope you don’t mind that I’m standing in for him.”

Jisung minds very much. Everything he had done in preparation for the meeting had been with Nikko in mind. Chris knew Nikko, was able to run through various scenarios that might come up. The practice had been helpful, but it had been for the wrong cat. Jisung doesn’t know what the fuck to say or do or think. He looks beyond Minho to the minders still posted at the doors, “You can leave us.”

The minders bow, close the doors with a decisive click.

“Please take a seat,” Jisung gestures to the opposite end of the long table and the four seats arranged there. 

Minho's smile is crooked, “After you.”

And Jisung feels a knot in his stomach. He now understands why Chris had told him to stay seated. Knows why Chris had cracked his neck when Jisung had been foolish enough to stand. He’d given Minho the upper hand and they weren’t even seated yet. For a second, Jisung hesitates, wishing (not for the first time) that he could hear what Chris is thinking. Ultimately, he decides to try and take it graciously, and sits. 

Then Minho does, wincing slightly as he pulls the chair closer to the table. Seungmin and Hyunjin sit on his right, Felix on his left. 

Then his brothers sit, Chris on Jisung’s left, Changbin and Jeongin on his right. 

Now they are sitting, Jisung understands the arrangements. The best fighters are sitting on the side of the table with the most seats occupied by the opposing side. Chris is seated on the same side as Seungmin and Hyunjin. Felix is on the same side as Changbin and Jeongin. Jisung and Minho, the representative heads, are at opposite sides of the very long table. It is a subtle balance. If things went wrong, they could go wrong very quickly. And, (not taking into account the minders posted outside with their weapons), the seating arrangements gave both sides the best chances of getting out alive. Which, Jisung supposes, is the whole point of a parley. 

There are several seconds of silence. The ornate clock on the mantel chimes, signalling the top of the hour. As Changbin had predicted, they are exactly on time.

“Are you healing well?” Jisung says, in part to fill the silence. In part because he’d seen Minho wince. Noticed the slight awkwardness in his gait as he entered.

“Almost completely,” Minho says but his smile isn’t quite reaching his eyes and Jisung knows he is lying.

“Drinks?” Jisung offers and he can almost feel the rage emanating off of Chris. This is not a social visit. But Jisung can’t help it. All the preparations he had done with Chris was for Nikko. Methodical, logical, Nikko. He doesn’t know how to behave with Minho in this setting. 

“I’ll abstain,” Minho says, glancing at his brothers, giving them the opportunity to make a request. They shake their heads no. They’re well behaved, for cats.

“So,” Jisung says and the word feels heavy in his mouth. He decides to try his Nikko based script on Minho. “I understand you called this parley to—”

“Correction,” Minho interjects. “My Father called the parley.”

Seriously? 

Jisung’s smile feels forced, “Of course, when I say ‘you’, I am referring to your family as a whole. Not individual members.”

He hears Chris exhale softly and takes this as a sign that he is doing well. 

“Ah, semantics,” Minho says, smiling annoyingly. “I apologise. Please continue.”

Out of pure pettiness, Jisung considers simply not continuing. But he ploughs on, “I understand that you,” he enunciates it, but still chooses to clarify, “as in the Clowder family, have an offer in exchange for amnesty for—”

“Correction,” Minho interrupts again, “we, as in, the Clowder family, are here merely to share some information that has come into our possession.”

Well, this isn’t fucking going to plan is it?

Jisung glances at Chris. Is pleased to see the narrowness in his eyes. He’s confused as fuck too.

Minho nods at Seungmin who lifts his briefcase and sets it on the table, clicks it open, withdraws an envelope and slides it up the table, not to Jisung, but to Chris. It’s disrespectful, blatantly so, and Jisung’s annoyance must show on his face, because Jeongin is pressing on his foot the way one presses down on a brake pedal. 

Without looking down, Chris palms the envelope and slides it in front of Jisung. 

Jisung has decided he doesn’t want it. He’s been watching Minho, watching him. “What do you want for this?”

“I’d open the envelope and look at its contents before you ask that question.”

Jisung is tempted, but he knows he has to make Minho do the work. He makes sure to smirk at him, “Humour me.”

“Open the envelope and I will tell you.”

Jeongin is pressing harder on his foot now, which is doing nothing to quell his annoyance at Minho and only succeeding in greatly increasing it towards Jeongin.

This is exactly why the Lobos didn’t parley with the Clowder's. They are as stubborn as they are vicious. From the age of four years old, Mother had taught him, ‘mai fidarsi di un gatto’. And now, Lee ‘Il Gatto’ Minho is sitting opposite him, the eldest son of his family's most hated enemy. And the fucker is still smiling.

“Tell me what it pertains to and I might consider opening it.”

Seeing Minho’s tongue lick his teeth in frustration is oddly satisfying, “It refers to the Park problem.”

The Parks are a problem, because they are messy and they are greedy. Nothing is too underhand, too shady or too immoral. There is nothing that they won’t buy or sell. Drugs, sex, lives… nothing. If there was a commonality the Lobos family shared with the Clowder family, it is the mutual  detest they share for the Parks. These days, both the Lobos and Clowder's have rules about what is acceptable in business. Their franchises are both almost completely legal, except the parts that aren’t.

For the Lobos, their shipping line is doing well with international trade, importing and exporting globally. Occasionally, if the money is good enough and it’s a risk worth taking they could make some paperwork go missing for ‘specialised’ shipments. Car parts are their main export, but their origin is sometimes dubious. The Lobos just makes the dubiousness less so. Overall, though, ethically, they are clean.

The Clowder's own the vast majority of pubs and clubs in and around Seoul, and are predominantly on the right side of the law, apart from their casinos which they pay higher-ups to conveniently ignore with a seat at exclusive tables. Some of their clubs also provide adult services to patrons, but it’s all very ethical too with very strict rules and regulations and punishments for anyone breaching those rules. 

And that’s the problem with the Parks. They aren’t ethical. They are vermin.

Jisung continues to wait. It feels like minutes, or days. Everything inside of Jisung is telling him to fill the silence. But he sits with it. Hating it. Listening to the clock on the mantle, listening to the seconds tick by, painfully… slowly. 

“Alright,” Minho leans back. His smile is really fucking annoying. “We propose twelve weeks amnesty, pooling our resources to assist you, in eliminating the Parks.”

Jeongin's foot is off Jisung's now. Whether he is releasing the brakes, has simply decided that they don’t work, or is just as surprised as Jisung feels,  Jisung doesn’t know. 

“We have no need to eliminate the Parks,” Jisung says, “They aren’t that big of an issue, just fools playing gangsters.” Minho arches an eyebrow pointedly in his direction and Jisung feels heat rising up his neck. It’s more than just anger. “I think we can all agree they are rats. But the city is full of vermin. I’m sure you have all the resources you need to eliminate them yourselves,” Jisung adds. “There’s really no need for us to get involved.”

Out of his periphery, he sees Chris raise his head slightly and Jisung thinks that maybe, he’s not doing too bad after all.

“Open the envelope,” Minho says.

“No,” Jisung says. “You said it’s about the Parks and I’ve told you that we will not assist you in any personal vendetta you have against them. We’re done here.”

Minho thumbs his nose, looks pointedly at Chris, “Chan, I would seriously, look in the envelope.”

Chris opens his mouth, and Jisung is actually furious now, “What part of ‘we’re done here’, are you not understanding? We will not help you.”

“I will accept that you don’t want our assistance, when you actually look in the envelope,” Minho’s voice is still level, but there’s a notable edge to it. And this is where Nikko and Minho differentiate. Nikko is always cool, always level, almost robotic. Predictable. A house cat. But Minho, he’s a stray. One with sharp teeth and claws and an untamed wildness. “And we’re not asking you to help us, we are offering to help you for a period of twelve weeks for—”

“Twelve weeks is fucking extortionate for whatever is contained in this.”

Minho slams his palm on the table, making his own brothers jump in their seats, Jeongin reflexively reach for his knife and causes the ice in Jisung's glass to tinkle. 

The room falls quiet. The clock on the mantle quietly ticks. Jisung is holding his breath. When Minho speaks, his voice is still perfectly level, “First rule of parley, you do not swear at the opposing members.”

Jisung knows the fucking rules. Chris had recited them at him. Though, now, Jisung can’t quite recall if swearing is first or second. He thinks that ‘do not kill the opposing members’ is pretty high up. Higher than fucking swearing and he might break the ‘no killing’ rule before this meeting is concluded. He tries to match Minho’s coolness, “I was not swearing at you, I was swearing at twelve weeks,” Jisung says flatly, before meeting Minho’s eye and adding, “Syntax.”

Jeongin snorts through his nose, presses his lips together and looks down at the table. Chris throws him a look of admonishment. Changbin chews on his lip. At least two of his brothers have a sense of humour.

And, apparently, so does Minho. He’s smiling more warmly than he has since his arrival. It lasts only a few seconds, disappearing between blinks, but it’s degrees different, so Jisung feels it. 

“Han-ssi,” Minho says, “please look in the envelope.”

Wanting nothing else but this meeting to end, Jisung snatches up the envelope, pulls out a few papers, and inspects them. He reads the top-lines, sees various black and white photos attached to several of the pages. Very big prices in red. Feels a weight press on his stomach, a chill like icy fingernails trace down his spine. Minho is not wrong, the Parks are most definitely a problem. They need to be gone.

“Source?”

“An informant. Reliable.”

“Park payroll?”

“And ours,” Minho says. “They were inserted, by me, after one of our clubs was robbed last year. I guarantee the source is reliable.”

Jisung chews this over for a few seconds, replacing the papers in the envelope. “Six weeks.”

He feels, rather than sees, all his brothers heads snap over to him in surprise. Chris’s hands tense on the table, his knuckles whitening. Reflexively, Jisung draws his feet back out of reach of Jeongin.

“Ten,” Minho counters.

“Ten,” Jisung agrees instantly as he slides the envelope and papers to Chris in a bid to justify his reasoning. Chris doesn’t look at them long before he visibly pales. Jisung takes the opportunity to secure the deal, “12 percent of our exports against 25 percent of your profits for the entirety of the period.”

“In this instance, profit sharing isn’t necessary.”

Everyone, including his own brothers, look at him, openly incredulous. No one walks into an amnesty on faith alone. There has to be some sort of exchange to show a willingness to comply. For centuries parleys exchanged something for something else; a prisoner swap, bags of gold, pieces of land, whole fucking cities. And here’s this…this cat of a man, offering to help them eliminate the Parks, for nothing? 

Seungmin, the smart one, speaks. He’s not supposed to, but honestly, none of this is going how it’s supposed to, so it’s logical, that he inserts himself now, “You have to exchange something.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary,” Minho’s hand drops to his stomach.

“There are rules. An exchange has to be made for a deal to pass,” Seungmin says with the tone of someone talking to a brick wall. If Jisung finds Minho annoying during this meeting, he has empathy for his brothers who had actually grown up with him. “It’s a show of good faith. To prove a willingness of mutual cooperation.”

Minho sighs through his nose, “Fine,” he waves a hand in Jisung's direction impatiently, “I agree to what you just said.”

Seungmin's mouth is a tight white line.

“Okay,” Jisung says slowly, because Minho is supposed to haggle for a better deal and once again none of this is going how it’s supposed to. “And we need to ascertain what will happen if either side breaches any part of the agreement.”

Now Minho rolls his eyes, “Seungmin.”

Seungmin clears his throat, “Monetary reparations would be preferable, as any form of violence to or from either party could result in exacerbating residual bad blood between the two families and extended counterparts. With regards to the extended counterparts, we will not be held responsible for their actions unless they directly affect members of the Lobos family. In that instance, those parties will be excommunicated and will no longer receive the protection of the Clowder Clan.”

To Jisung it sounds like legal bullshit, meaning he doesn’t have a clue what Seungmin is saying. But since Minho has opened the floor to his brother, Jisung turns to his own, “Chris.”

“Agreed. Likewise, extended counterparts of Lobos will not receive protection should they directly impact on the Clowder family. Monetary reparations between the two families to be paid in full within one week of any breach of the principles of parley. I propose thirty percent of current standings.”

Seungmin nods, pulls a calculator from his briefcase, taps on it. Scribbles a figure onto a piece of notepaper, folds it in half.

Chris, meanwhile, is doing the exact same thing using the calculator on his phone before writing a long number onto the rear of a business card. The pair stand, move to the middle of the table and exchange the numbers. They look at them briefly. 

“Agreed,” Chris says, “Thirty percent.”

“Accepted, thirty percent.”

“I think that concludes our business,” Minho stands, wincing as he straightens up. Everyone else stands, including Jisung. Minho says, “I’ll have Seungmin draft the proposals in writing. Who should he liaise with? Chris?”

“No, Jeongin,” Jisung indicates him, not that it is really necessary. Seungmin has already placed his business card on the table in front of him. Clicking his briefcase closed. Truly, he’s annoyingly smart and aptly named.

“Cheers,” Jeongin smiles at Seungmin. Seungmin doesn’t return it.

Jisung says, “I think our security leads should also meet to discuss how best to merge our assets.”

“Hyunjin, you’re up,” Minho nods at him as he buttons his jacket.

“That’ll be fine,” Hyunjin bows. 

Wow, Jisung thinks, finally, someone with some fucking manners.

“Leave your contact details,” Changbin says, “I’ll be in touch.”

Hyunjin places a card on the table. Bows again.

“The collaboration between our extended members may be more problematic,” Minho says. “I’d prefer it if they were brought on board as part of the solution to the Park problem.”

“I’ll speak to my guys,” Chris says. “They might take some convincing, but I’ll work on them.”

“Felix,” Minho says, “you be sure to tell our members they will lose all standing with our family if they breach the terms reached today. Tell them I’ll personally see to their downfall if they fuck this up.”

“Sure thing,” Felix says and his voice is considerably deeper than his frame or face suggests it ought to be. It is disarming. He smiles at Chris all sunshine and freckles, “We should probably meet to discuss how best to manage that and outline suitable reparations for even minor misdemeanours so there is no room for doubt.” He pulls a card from his inside pocket, places it on the table. “Give me a call.”

“Yeah, er, sure,” Chris says and he’s blinking. Jisung thinks that maybe Felix’s voice just does that to people. Maybe that was the Felix effect he’d heard so much about. Chris seems to come back to himself, shaking his head as he walks over to the fireplace to press the button secreted on a panel beside it. Somewhere outside the room a bell tinkles, and the doors swing inwards, the two minders holding them open, their hands folded in front of their belts. 

“Fancy,” Minho comments as he turns on his heel and strides away, his shoes clicking on the marble tiles. 

The Lobos brothers stand until the doors are closed. Remain standing until they hear the front doors at the end of the long hall open and close. And then—

“Mother is going to fucking murder you!” Changbin explodes as Jisung falls back into his chair, wrenching his tie loose and pulling it over his head, throwing it onto the table and undoing the top two buttons of his straight-jacket-come-shirt. “Ten weeks, ten fucking weeks?”

Jisung holds his glass up. Jeongin takes it with a shake of his head and a smile and takes it to the bar. He pours a generous amount of scotch over the melting ice.

“It’s not that bad of an arrangement,” Chris slides the papers over to Changbin. 

Changbin snatches them up, glares at them. His expression melts from anger to anger, but this time it isn’t directed at Jisung, so Jisung prefers it. “Fucking hell!” 

Jeongin returns, places a hand on Jisung's shoulder and Jisung takes the glass from him. Downs the whisky, hisses at the burn in his throat. Jeongin is looking over Changbin's shoulder, reaches forward and picks up a page, “Oh, I get it now.”

Changbin is raging, “They have pictures of me in the gym. In the fucking gym!”

Jeongin looks closer at the page Changbin is holding, “They didn’t get your good side hyung.”

“No they— fuck off,” Changbin flicks through the pages, pulls one out and brandishes it at Jeongin. “Think you’re so fucking beautiful?”

Jeongin considers his surveilled photo a moment, his bottom lip scrunched with thought. He’s sitting on a park bench sipping on coffee. It resembles a magazine fashion shoot. There’s even a strategically placed crow in the foreground. “I think I look kind of cute.”

Changbin looks at it, slams it on the table, “Yeah well, that’s just you all over isn’t it. Fucking cute. They could have snapped a picture of you sitting on a toilet and you’d look fucking cute.” Jeongin ruffles Changbin's hair, which ruffles Changbin's anger higher as he pulls away from it. “And I hardly recognise you,” he says to Jisung now, “When the fuck was this taken?”

The photo of Jisung is grainy, taken from a distance. It shows him sitting in the window of a cafe, laughing and smiling.

“About six weeks ago,” Jisung says numbly. Six weeks and four days ago.

“So before the kerfuffle?” Jeongin says, “How do we know that the Clowder’s haven’t just been sitting on this.”

“Can we stop calling what happened the ‘kerfuffle’,” Chris snaps. “And there are date stamps on the attached emails. This is new information and they brought it straight to us. Forty-eight hours. Only enough time to arrange a parley.”

“Barely enough time,” Changbin says. “I wondered why it was arranged so hastily. These things usually take months.”

“See! It makes no sense,” Jeongin leans against the wall, every inch a model for W Korea. “The only, realistic, threat to us is the Clowder's. And yet, we let them into our home only forty-eight hours after they request a meeting? Before we even knew what was in the envelope. When has that ever happened? We have never let another family or faction into our home. Never.”

Jisung wipes the palms of his hands on his thighs.

“And can we honestly say, if information like this landed on our lap, about them, we’d do the same?” he waits a moment, looking at them each in turn. “No. I didn’t think so. If Mother received this, she’d laugh, sit back and order popcorn whilst the Clowder’s were picked off one by one. And Il Gatto was going to trade this for nothing and why? Because of the ker—” Chris throws him a look of warning. Jeongin rephrases it, “—the incident? It makes no sense. I don’t understand it at all.”

“It does make sense,” Changbin says, “If they’re trying to play us. Lower our guard so they can infiltrate—”

“It looks legit,” Jisung interrupts haphazardly. There’s a reason he believes the information they’ve been handed, but he can barely think about it, let alone explain it to his brothers. It’s because of the photo taken of him. “I mean—I do believe that this is from the Parks. I don’t think it’s from the Clowder's.”

“I agree,” Chris says. “I don’t know of Minho as well as I think I understand Nikko, but I’ve heard about him. I know that he spent time in special ops during his serving period. He could've risen through the ranks if he’d stayed on. He doesn’t like injustice, it’s the one thing that separates him from his family. I don’t think playing with us is his style.”

“No,” Jisung quickly agrees. “No, I don’t think it is either.”

“He was here because of his father. He didn’t come off his own back.” Changbin says, “I don’t trust them.” 

“Neither do I,” says Jeongin, “mai fidarsi di un gatto."

“I didn’t say I trust them,” Chris says with barely concealed exasperation, “I’m just saying from what I’ve heard of Minho he’s not the type to—where are you going?”

“Out,” Jisung is already halfway across the room.

“No you fucking don’t!” Changbin calls, “Not until the agreements are formalised.”

Chris reaches the doors a second after Jisung does. He moves that way, quickly. “I have to agree, we need to figure this out before we do anything.”

“We’ve been separated a lot since any of those pictures were taken, I’m sure I’ll be fine in broad daylight for a couple of hours.” Jisung heaves the right side door open, starts at a minder who is standing there, like he’s supposed to, but still. “Car. Jon.”

The minder nods, walks towards the main entrance speaking into his sleeve, a finger on his ear piece. You’d think they were living in the fucking white house. It’s ridiculous.

“Hannie,” Chris says, gently laying a hand on his shoulder, “Changbin and Innie kind of have a point. We need to understand why they want to help us. Why Minho offered to do it for nothing.”

“Well,” Jisung pulls free of Chris’s grip and steps into the hall. “You lot get started on that. Have fun.”

A minder at the entrance opens the door as Jisung approaches, a black BMW swinging into view, tyres grinding on the gravel of the sweeping driveway. Jisung trots down the stone steps, slides into the back of the car, pulls his phone from inside his suit jacket, taps out a quick message.

“Usual place?” Jon is already steering the car down the drive. 

“Yes.”

“Is this a good idea?”

“No,” Jisung admits. This is not a good idea.

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

“Get it over with, Seungmo,” Minho sighs as he loosens his tie.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Minho removes his cuff links, drops them into his jacket pocket, pushes his sleeves up to his elbows. The veins on his arms and hands look more pronounced than usual. Probably the stress. Probably the pain radiating from his left side. He nudges Seungmin, who glances at his open palm for a second before he opens his briefcase with two clicks and pulls out a packet of pain killers. Wordlessly, he pops one into Minho’s hand. Minho slaps it into his mouth. Swallows it dry. Stretches his left leg out to try and take the pressure off his stomach.

“It’s not that bad of a deal,” Minho leans against the cool window of the passenger door. 

“‘Not that bad of a deal?’ Do you even know what you agreed to?” Seungmin asks. Minho waits. Seungmin tells him. “25 percent of our profits against 12 percent of their exports for ten weeks.” He’s looking at Minho as though he has asked him what two plus two is and is waiting for an answer.

Minho shrugs.

“For fuck’s sake,” Seungmin wrenches his glasses off, starts cleaning the lenses angrily with his shirt. “You’re giving away 25 percent of our profits for ten weeks. To the fucking Lobos.”

“Yeah,” Felix says from the front passenger seat, “but we’re getting 12 percent from their exports—so…”

Seungmin blinks at them and Minho thinks it must be awful being the most intelligent person in a car full of pabos. “Do none of you know what’s happening in the real world?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. “In simple terms, there’s a bit of bother in the Red Sea, which is putting it mildly. Most exports and imports to and from Europe and the East Coast of the US are rerouting. It also happens that eighty-five percent of all of the Lobos Line export eastward. And because of the rerouting, it’s taking ships a long fucking time to get to where they need to go. Meaning ten weeks is not long enough to see a fair return. If any.”

“So, Minho gave them something for nothing?” Hyunjin concludes.

“Ex-fucking-actly! For ten weeks!” Seungmin shouts it. Shoves his glasses back on. Rounds on Minho. “You didn’t even try for a better deal. You just accepted the first worst offer. None of that went as we rehearsed it on the drive over.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have been there, should I? Which is another point, has anyone heard from Nikko yet?”

“No, still MIA,” Felix says. He’s looking down at his phone tapping away. Minho hopes he’s doing business over text and not playing one of his stupid kids games. “I’ve got my boys out looking for him. Can I give them permission to give him a slap when they find him?”

“They can give him two. Do we know when he was last seen?”

“Last I know of is fourteen hours ago, leaving club Easy,” Hyunjin says. “I’ve got the security team tracing CCTV, see if we can track his movements after that.”

“I have a contact in the police department that might be able to help with that,” Seungmin says, which is unsurprising because Seungmin has a lot of contacts. He collects them. “I’ll text the details.”

Hyunjin nods.

Minho cracks his knuckles. Nikko knows how important today's meeting was. It’s not like him to disappear like this. Minho is uneasy about it, and the fact his brothers are busily searching means that they are too. 

He feels his phone vibrate in his inside jacket pocket, reaches for it, thinking it’ll be Nikko with some lame excuse. He’s already considering how much he can reasonably torture Nikko when he reads the message.

Unknown Number: The weather is nice today.

He stares at it for several seconds. ‘ I like the view right now, the weather is nice today.’ He makes a bad decision, “Jin, drop me off at Han River park.”

“You are kidding me?” Seungmin says. “You cannot be fucking serious.”

“Start drawing up the proposals. I want them finalised before the end of play tomorrow. Tell Father what was agreed. Tell him, I don’t know… tell him, it’s for the greater good or something.”

“The greater fucking good?” Seungmin is getting very red in the face. “How about I tell him that you tried to seal the deal without making any form of exchange.”

“We would have been better off,” Minho drops his phone into his inside pocket, arches an eyebrow at Seungmin. “If you hadn't made me make an exchange we wouldn’t have lost twenty five percent of profit for ten weeks.” Minho knows he’s being a dickhead since he was the one who hadn’t bothered to argue over the numbers. But his wound is bothering him, although not as much as the text is. 

Seungmin opens his mouth, closes it. Tries again. Fails.

Minho leans forward, “You two keep looking for Nikko. You’d better find him before I do, otherwise we’ll be holding a family reunion at his wake.” He sits back, “Actually, when you do find him, tell him he better stay out of my sight for ten days or I’ll bury him in the family plot.”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

The weather is not nice today. 

It’s dry, but there is a strong breeze coming off the Han River, whipping his hair and jacket and chilling Minho to the bone. He’s leaning forward on his elbows, on the metal railings bordering the path and the river. The sun is quite low now, and the sky is transitioning from blue to purple, pink and orange. Already, Seoul is twinkling as lights flick on in the glass towers across the river. Really, it’s kind of beautiful.

Maybe it’s because of the cold that he feels the warmth of a body come to stand beside him. Not too close, but still degrees warmer than the air around him. Or maybe it’s their scent. So familiar. Still intoxicating.

“You’re late,” he says without glancing at them.

“Jon thought it best to take a circuitous route.”

Minho smiles. He always speaks so lyrically. Minho tilts his head to look up at him now, to properly look, the way he hadn’t been able to back at Lobos Mansion. 

His hair is longer than it had been a month ago, the curls more defined, the breeze pushing them back from his face. There’s a papery, translucent quality to the skin just beneath his large brown eyes which are pinched in the corners. His mouth is all tight lines. There is a scratch at his neck, as though he had been pulling at his shirt collar. And, because the universe is a bitch, Minho still views him as the most beautiful man in this world.

Jisung is still looking at some point across the river when he says, “Don’t look at me like that.”

Minho turns his attention back to the water. “You did well this afternoon. I was impressed.”

“You were an arsehole.”

“Yes,” there’s no point denying it. “I thought I’d be dealing with Chris. You caught me off guard.”

There’s a few seconds of silence. 

“Why were you even there?”

“Believe me, it was not by choice. I was sent because Nikko couldn’t make it,” Minho says.

“You got a bad deal,” Jisung's voice is kind of low. 

“So I’ve been told. But I wasn’t there to make a deal,” Minho pushes himself up, feeling the wound on his stomach tighten and complain against the movement. His hand automatically covers the area. When he looks up, Jisung is looking at where his hand is. He looks pale. “I’m okay.”

Jisung tears his eyes away from Minho’s hand, to look at Minho’s face and he’s looking properly too. Minho wonders what changes in his own features Jisung sees. Does he look as tired and lost as he feels?

“Why did you message me?” Minho asks, it’s been going around in his head since he saw the text.

Jisung opens his mouth, closes it, tries again, “My brothers think there’s some bigger plan in place. They don’t understand why you’re trying so hard to help. They think you’re playing games.”

Minho sighs through his nose, because, of course there’s a bigger plan in place. But it’s coming from his Father, it’s not coming from Minho. Minho has plans of his own, but now’s not the time to try and explain all that. “We want to help.”

“Uh-huh,” Jisung says, unconvinced. “You think we’d do the same for you?”

“I know your family wouldn’t,” Minho’s not so naive to think otherwise, “but I hope you know why I’m doing this.” When the information landed on his lap, (literally), he’d done everything to convince his family that they had to do something. It had not gone smoothly. If Jisung, if his brothers, only knew how much he is actually risking to help them. If only they knew. “I don’t really give a shit about your family, Ji.”

The choice of words aren’t favourable and Jisung’s eyes take on a far off look. “You don’t give a shit…”

“We’ve got bigger problems than the ones in that envelope,” Minho says now, fishing inside his jacket pocket, he pulls out his phone, scrolls to an image he’s saved in a separate folder that he’s called ‘instructions’ and shows it to Jisung. Jisung takes the phone from him, and Minho tries to ignore the electricity that courses through him when Jisung’s fingers lightly brush his. Jisung squints down at the screen, uses his finger and thumb to enlarge it. 

By itself, the photo is nothing special. A grainy black and white image of two men sitting opposite each other in a cafe. Laughing. Smiling. It was taken about six weeks ago. Minho remembers that, because that was the last time he’d felt truly happy.

Jisung's squint turns to a frown, which in turn changes to a look of fear.

“Fuck!” Jisung says, “Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

Minho drops his head. He’d reacted the exact same way when he’d taken it out of the envelope.

“Sir?” it’s Jon, sprinting from whatever discreet observation point he’d been posted to. His gun is drawn, in broad fucking daylight. Minho decides he kind of likes him. He’s a decent man, for a dog.

“I’m—I’m fine, Jon,” Jisung has never lied well. “It’s fine.”

Jon diligently hesitates. 

“I said I’m fine.”

Jon nods, uncocks his gun, slips it back into his holster under his jacket. Walks backwards to a fair distance, but still within sight. Minho knows he’s here now, no point pretending otherwise. 

“Where did you get this?”

“It was in the envelope with the others, it’s now in a safety deposit box.”

“You’ve kept it?”

“For the time being. But it’s safe.”

“Did your brothers—your father—?”

“No one else has seen it.”

“That’s…good…” Jisung hands the phone back. Inexplicably, Minho is annoyed by the remark, drops the phone back into his pocket, pushes his hands into his trouser pockets and Jisung asks, “Are there more?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“What about your informant?”

“I sent her away. Paid her off with enough money to start a new life in the US. Put her on a plane to Chicago the same afternoon she gave me the envelope.”

“If this gets out—”

“The Parks know, Ji.” Minho can’t sugarcoat it. Can’t protect Jisung from the truth. “It’s only a matter of time before—”

“But—we’re not meant to—we’re…”

Minho raises an eyebrow, “Go on, say it.” Jisung looks away. Apparently the river is very interesting all of a sudden. Minho grabs his wrist and Jisung looks down at it, “Say what you were going to say.” 

When Jisung speaks, he looks Minho in the eye, “We’re enemies.”

Minho let’s go, “I’m not your enemy, Ji.”

“I don’t see how this—” Jisung points from himself to Minho and back several times in quick succession, “—this can work.”

Minho drags a hand over his mouth, “Okay.”

Jisung blinks. “That’s it? ‘Okay’. That’s all you have to say?”

Minho is seriously pissed off now. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Jisung snaps back at him. “Something more substantial than ‘okay’. You had no problem talking back at the house—”

“You want more? How’s this; I turned up to your fucking home, unarmed, with an envelope full of evidence that the Parks have placed bounties on your brothers heads, on your fucking head, offered to help you eliminate the Parks, asked for nothing in exchange and you still see me as an enemy?”

“You said you were sent,” Jisung points out and his voice is rising too. “You didn’t come off your own back. You could've told me ahead of today, but you didn’t.”

“How? How was I meant to tell you? Fucking carrier pigeon? You changed your number, and before that you ghosted me. How the fuck was I going to message you? But I see you kept my number, so you could've reached out to me if you wanted to, but you didn’t, did you? You didn’t even ask if I was recovering until today.”

“You really don’t rememb…” Jisung bites his bottom lip, “This was a mistake.”

“Too fucking right it was. The whole fucking thing, start to fucking end!” the words fly from Minho’s mouth too fast for him to amend them. He sees something flicker across Jisung’s eyes. Tries not to understand it. “Go home.”

“What?”

“Go home to your brothers, Ji,” he turns away before he’ll say something unforgivable, though he suspects he already did when he said ‘okay’. Because it’s not okay. 

It’s far from fucking okay.

♢ ♧ If you made it this far, thank you for your support! ♤ ♡ please consider leaving a comment, like or reblog ♤ ♡ ©2024Intrikatie ♢ Ao3 ♧ Quotev ♤ Wattpad ♡

TASTE M.List & Sypnosis

Chapter 2 - The DLC

[pwlanier]

Music Room

Designed by Lawrence Grant White (1887–1956)

American, Renaissance Style

ca. 1926 - 1928

As early as 1924, Mildred and Robert Woods Bliss began planning a music room addition to Dumbarton Oaks. They engaged Lawrence Grant White (1887-1956) of the New York City architectural firm of McKim, Mead & White to provide plans and design suggestions, and White and Beatrix Farrand, the Blisses’ landscape architect, oversaw the planning and construction of the room. White and the Blisses had some difficulty deciding on a siting for the Music Room, considering and rejecting locations on the sites of the present orangery and loggia-bathhouse in the swimming pool area [as late as April 29, 1926: blueprint, New-York Historical Society, McKim, Mead & White Papers, Bliss House]. Finally, on July 17, 1926 Farrand wrote to White about “the news of the possibility of the music room at the northwest end of the Bliss house in Washington.” John W. Davis, who Farrand brought to Dumbarton Oaks, served as general contractor, and the room was constructed between 1926 and 1928.

The Blisses planned the Music Room to be essentially Renaissance in character (or “Mediterranean,” as White called it in correspondence of December 4, 1924 to Mildred Bliss). Robert Bliss had already envisioned the character of the room by August 25, 1926 when he wrote to White: “We see marbré-stucco wainscot in music room; rough plaster walls; a very good polychromed ceiling (shall it be old or copied?); the best big mantle we can find, and we want a fine floor.” In responding on September 17, 1926, White wrote: “The plaster walls must not be too rough. An old ceiling by all means if we can find one.” On December 29, 1926, Robert Bliss again wrote White: “All things being equal, we do not want modern mechanical and structural details to intrude themselves on the impression of the whole, which we hope to make mellow and old-fashioned.” The Blisses considered adding a double- or triple-arched window on the south wall to the right of the fireplace. Robert Bliss wrote to White on January 20, 1927: “This was very successfully done in Italy and Spain and we do not think it would be inharmonious with the rest of the music-room, which, after all, is a delightful medley of Italian renaissance, French eighteenth century, Georgian and American colonial!” After seeing White’s model for the Music Room [no longer preserved], Bliss wrote in the same correspondence: “It shows that you sense just what we want--simplicity, broad lines, large space. We know that it is a darned nuisance to have to deal with clients at a distance, especially those who go into details as we do, and we are therefore very glad that you like our suggestions as we do yours. It is all bearing fruit.”

The Blisses worked closely with White and Farrand in deciding on the design and the architectural elements used in the room. Although they had wanted an antique Renaissance ceiling and flooring for the Music Room, in 1926 they commissioned the Parisian designer Armand Albert Rateau (1882-1938) to fabricate reproductions (see HC.AE.1929.003). It was also Rateau that eventually suggested the acquisition of the French Renaissance chimneypiece that is in the room (see HC.AE.1929.002). The Blisses acquired in Paris two Italian “Red Verona” marble Renaissance arches which were employed on the east wall (see HC.AE.1927.001.b). The Blisses and White had wanted to use “Rose St. George” marble for the staircase leading into the Music Room, the cheek pieces to the sides of the staircase, and the floor at the foot of the stairs and a border around the room. This scheme was adopted, but Red Verona marble was substituted for Rose St. George in order to match the antique arches. White, in correspondence of September 15, 1927 to Robert Bliss, mentions “reproducing the detail of the two antique archways at the east end of the room,” [New-York Historical Society, McKim, Mead & White Papers, Bliss House] most likely for the Red Verona Palladian bay of the west wall, which Robert Bliss had approved on December 9, 1926. On a plan of the Music Room, dated April 1, 1927, the designation of Rose St. George marble has been changed to Red Verona.

Dumbarton Oaks, Harvard University

[qualitymarbleindiaofficial]

The Enchanting Allure of Green Marble: Unveiling Top Green Marble Exporters

Green marble, a captivating natural stone coveted for its dramatic elegance and unmatched veining, has graced homes and buildings for centuries. This exquisite material, quarried from metamorphic rock, injects a touch of sophistication and natural beauty into any space. From rainforest green to Verde Guatemala, green marble offers a stunning variety of hues and patterns, making it a popular choice for countertops, flooring, wall cladding, and even sculptures.

Quality Marble Exports is a leading supplier of marble. We deal in manufacturing and supply of granite, exotic stone, sandstone, slate, and stone handicrafts.

However, sourcing high-quality green marble requires connecting with reputable exporters who can ensure the stone's authenticity, beauty, and durability. This article explores the world of green marble exporters, guiding you towards the finest providers of this captivating natural stone.

The Allure of Green Marble: A Stone for the Discerning

Green marble's undeniable allure stems from its unique aesthetic qualities. Unlike manufactured materials that attempt to replicate its beauty, green marble boasts a depth and richness that speaks to nature's artistry. The captivating green hues are often offset by delicate white or gold veining, creating a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow. This inherent variation within each slab ensures your green marble features are truly one-of-a-kind, adding a touch of exclusivity to your space.

Beyond Beauty: Unveiling the Functional Advantages of Green Marble

Besides its captivating aesthetics, green marble offers several functional advantages that make it a worthwhile investment:

Durability: Green marble is a naturally hard and dense stone, remarkably resistant to scratches, chips, and cracks. This exceptional durability makes it suitable for high-traffic areas like kitchens, bathrooms, and entryways.

Heat Resistance: Green marble boasts good heat resistance, making it a suitable choice for kitchen countertops near cooktops or fireplaces.

Water Resistance: Certain varieties of green marble, like Verde Antique, exhibit good water resistance, making them suitable for bathroom applications.

Easy Maintenance: Regular cleaning with a mild detergent and warm water is sufficient to maintain green marble's pristine appearance.

A World of Green Marble: Top Exporters to Consider

The global market for green marble is vast, with several countries boasting a rich history of quarrying and exporting this captivating stone. Here are some of the top green marble exporters to consider for your upcoming project:

India: India is a leading exporter of green marble, offering a wide variety of colors and patterns, including Rainforest Green, Verde Antique, and Udaipur Green. Indian green marble is known for its affordability and good quality, making it a popular choice for budget-conscious homeowners and architects.

Italy: Italian green marble is renowned for its luxurious quality and exquisite veining patterns. Popular varieties include Verde Alpi and Verde Imperiale, known for their deep green hues and dramatic veining. While Italian green marble may come with a higher price tag, it is prized for its unmatched beauty and elegance.

Pakistan: Pakistan is another prominent exporter of green marble, offering a beautiful variety known as Verde Pakistani. This marble features a captivating blend of deep green hues with lighter green and white veining, creating a visually stunning effect.

Greece: Greek green marble, particularly the Tinos Green variety, is known for its soft green color and subtle veining patterns. This type of green marble is often chosen for its classic elegance and ability to complement a variety of design styles.

Brazil: Brazil is a rising star in the green marble export market, offering a unique variety known as Verde Patagonia. This marble features a deep green base color with striking white and gold veining, creating a truly luxurious aesthetic.

Selecting the Right Green Marble Exporter: Essential Considerations

When choosing a green marble exporter, consider the following factors:

Reputation: Research the exporter's reputation for quality, reliability, and customer service. Look for companies with a proven track record of delivering high-quality green marble and excellent customer support.

Variety: Consider the variety of green marble colors and patterns offered by the exporter. Ensure they have a selection that aligns with your design vision and aesthetic preferences.

Customization: If you require specific cuts, sizes, or finishes for your green marble project, inquire about the exporter's customization capabilities.

Pricing: Green marble prices can vary depending on the variety, origin, quality, and thickness of the slabs. Obtain quotes from several exporters to ensure you receive a competitive price.

Sustainability: If environmental responsibility is a priority, inquire about the exporter's commitment to sustainable quarrying practices.

By considering these factors and conducting thorough research, you can connect with a reputable green marble exporters who can provide the perfect stone for your project.

[villacostadeglidei]

Book Villa with Private Garden in Amalfi Coast

Introduction

Nestled in the heart of the picturesque Amalfi Coast, a book villa with private garden in Amalfi Coast offers a haven for literary enthusiasts and nature lovers alike. This enchanting retreat combines the timeless beauty of the Italian coastline with the tranquil pleasures of a private garden, providing an unparalleled experience that lingers in the memory long after the visit has ended.

A Symphony of Serenity: The Amalfi Coast

The Amalfi Coast, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is renowned for its dramatic cliffs, shimmering azure waters, and charming villages that seem to defy gravity as they cling to the rocky hillsides. This stretch of coastline, extending from the Gulf of Naples to the Gulf of Salerno, is a masterpiece of natural and man-made beauty. Its winding roads offer breathtaking views at every turn, revealing secluded coves, terraced vineyards, and lemon groves that thrive under the Mediterranean sun.

The Enchanting Village of Amalfi

At the heart of the Amalfi Coast lies the town of Amalfi, a place steeped in history and legend. Once a powerful maritime republic, Amalfi is now a quaint village that exudes old-world charm. Its narrow streets are lined with whitewashed buildings, adorned with vibrant bougainvillea, and its bustling piazzas are filled with the sounds of local life. The town’s crown jewel, the stunning Amalfi Cathedral, stands as a testament to its rich past.

The Concept of a Book Villa

Imagine a villa designed with the bibliophile in mind — a place where bookshelves line the walls, cozy reading nooks invite you to lose yourself in a story, and every room is infused with the spirit of literary discovery. A book villa with private garden in Amalfi Coast is more than just a vacation rental; it is a sanctuary for the soul, a place where the joy of reading is celebrated in every corner.

The Villa: A Literary Haven

The book villa with private garden in Amalfi Coast is a stunning example of this concept brought to life. The villa itself is a blend of traditional Italian architecture and modern comforts, offering guests a unique blend of authenticity and luxury. With its terracotta roof, arched windows, and stone walls, the villa harmonizes perfectly with its natural surroundings.

Interior Spaces

Inside, the villa is a bibliophile’s dream. The living room features floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with a carefully curated selection of books, from classic literature to contemporary novels, travel guides, and local history. Plush armchairs and sofas are strategically placed to offer the best reading spots, whether you prefer a sunny nook by the window or a cozy corner by the fireplace.

Each bedroom in the villa is named after a famous author, and the decor reflects their unique style and era. Antique writing desks, vintage typewriters, and framed literary quotes add a personal touch to each room. The beds are adorned with high-quality linens and pillows, ensuring a restful night’s sleep after a day of exploration and reading.

The Library

The heart of the villa is undoubtedly its library. This room, with its soaring ceilings and large windows, offers a panoramic view of the Amalfi Coast, allowing you to lose yourself in a book while surrounded by the natural beauty of the Mediterranean. The library is stocked with a diverse collection of books, catering to all tastes and interests. Comfortable seating, reading lamps, and a selection of teas and coffees make this the perfect spot for a leisurely afternoon of reading.

The Private Garden: A Natural Retreat

The villa’s private garden is a tranquil oasis, offering a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. The garden is beautifully landscaped, with a variety of plants and flowers that provide color and fragrance throughout the year. Lemon trees, olive trees, and aromatic herbs like rosemary and lavender create a sensory delight, while shaded pathways and secluded benches invite you to relax and unwind.

Outdoor Reading Spaces

Scattered throughout the garden are several inviting reading spots, each designed to offer a unique experience. A hammock strung between two trees provides a gentle sway as you read, while a stone bench under a pergola covered in climbing roses offers a quiet, shaded retreat. For those who prefer to read with a view, a terrace overlooking the coast provides breathtaking vistas that are sure to inspire.

Al Fresco Dining

The garden also features an outdoor dining area, perfect for enjoying meals surrounded by nature. A long wooden table, shaded by a pergola, is the ideal spot for a leisurely breakfast or a romantic dinner under the stars. The villa’s kitchen is fully equipped with everything you need to prepare delicious meals, using fresh, local ingredients from the nearby markets.

Activities and Attractions

While the villa and its garden provide a perfect retreat, the Amalfi Coast offers a wealth of activities and attractions that are well worth exploring.

Hiking and Nature Walks

The Amalfi Coast is a paradise for hikers, with a network of trails that offer stunning views and a chance to explore the region’s natural beauty. The Path of the Gods, a famous trail that runs from Bomerano to Nocelle, offers breathtaking vistas of the coastline and the sea. Other trails lead through lush forests, past ancient ruins, and along the cliffs, providing endless opportunities for adventure and discovery.

Exploring the Villages

Each village along the Amalfi Coast has its own unique charm and character. Positano, with its colorful houses cascading down the hillside, is a shopper’s paradise, with boutiques selling handmade ceramics, clothing, and jewelry. Ravello, perched high above the coast, is known for its beautiful gardens and stunning views. The village of Atrani, with its narrow alleys and archways, offers a glimpse into the region’s medieval past.

Cultural Experiences

The Amalfi Coast is rich in history and culture, and there are many ways to immerse yourself in its heritage. Visit the ancient Roman villa in Minori, explore the maritime museum in Amalfi, or attend a classical music concert in the gardens of Ravello. Local festivals and events, such as the Feast of Sant’Andrea in Amalfi or the Ravello Festival, offer a chance to experience the region’s traditions and celebrations.

Culinary Delights

The cuisine of the Amalfi Coast is a highlight of any visit. Fresh seafood, handmade pasta, and locally grown produce are the stars of the menu, complemented by the region’s famous limoncello. Take a cooking class to learn how to prepare traditional dishes, visit a local winery for a tasting, or simply enjoy a meal at one of the many excellent restaurants in the area.

A Day in the Life at the Book Villa

Morning

Begin your day with a leisurely breakfast in the garden, enjoying the fresh air and the sounds of nature. After breakfast, find a comfortable spot in the garden or the library to read a few chapters of your current book. The morning light is perfect for reading, and the tranquility of the garden provides the ideal setting.

Afternoon

In the afternoon, venture out to explore the Amalfi Coast. Take a hike along one of the scenic trails, visit a nearby village, or spend some time at the beach. Return to the villa for a light lunch, prepared with fresh ingredients from the local market.

Evening

As the sun begins to set, find a spot in the garden to watch the changing colors of the sky. Enjoy a glass of local wine and a selection of Italian cheeses as you take in the view. Later, have dinner al fresco, savoring the flavors of the region while surrounded by the beauty of the garden.

Night

After dinner, retreat to the library for a quiet evening of reading. The soft lighting and comfortable seating create a cozy atmosphere, perfect for getting lost in a book. End the day with a relaxing bath, and then retire to your bedroom for a restful night’s sleep, lulled by the gentle sounds of the sea.

Conclusion

A stay at a book villa with private garden in Amalfi Coast is a truly unique and unforgettable experience. It offers the perfect blend of relaxation, literary indulgence, and natural beauty, providing a sanctuary where you can escape from the world and immerse yourself in the joys of reading and nature. Whether you are a lifelong bibliophile or simply looking for a peaceful retreat, this enchanting villa promises a magical and rejuvenating getaway.

From the stunning landscapes of the Amalfi Coast to the charming details of the villa and its garden, every aspect of your stay is designed to inspire and delight. So pack your favorite books, leave your worries behind, and prepare for an unforgettable adventure on the Amalfi Coast — a place where the love of literature and the beauty of nature come together in perfect harmony.

[myancientsurfaces]

The Artistry in Limestone: A Close-Up Look at Reclaimed Mantles by Ancient Surfaces

In the realm of architectural design, there is an irreplaceable charm and elegance found in the fine details of handcrafted mantles. Ancient Surfaces, a renowned purveyor of antique reclaimed materials, brings forth a collection of limestone mantles that are more than just functional pieces they are works of art. Today, we delve into the intricate carvings of these mantles, exploring their…

[lxuruyhouses]

King Solomon Luxury Real Estate is happy to present:

This the most luxury house in Israel🏆

The estate is located in Savyon, the most prestigious area in Israel, approximately 20 minutes from Tel Aviv and 15 minutes from the airport. The house was built between 2006-2009, spread over 6 dunams, with about 1000 square meters built on 4 levels. It features a wine cellar, cinema, laundry room, bomb shelter, maid's room with garden access, a stunning countryside-style suite, guest room with private garden access, entrance level with living room, dining room, kitchen, family corner, study, spacious guest bathroom with shower and wardrobe, a beautiful Japanese-style suite with sitting area, large balcony, stone-clad bathtub, and rain shower, an entryway to two royal suites, one containing 2 walk-in closets, 2 bathrooms, and a beautiful sitting area, a large suite with a concession to a bathroom, a 103-inch TV, natural materials throughout the house, including solid wood flooring, natural stone cladding, antique decorative columns from an old Parisian train station, a limed full-wood pergola covering over 200 square meters, underfloor heating throughout the house, central vacuum, 2 gas fireplaces, a handcrafted French stone fireplace in the living room, a gas barbecue in the pergola with stone cladding, a closed garage for four cars, a garden adorned with 25 bronze sculptures, fruit trees, a heated swimming pool, a 40-square-meter children's pool with a slide, a fire pit made of stone cladding, an Italian Jacuzzi, a limestone and oak deck poolside, an atmosphere filled with warmth and good energy, French-profile windows made of special ordered stone, all windows and shutters are Apex, completely airtight, dust-free, energy and noise-efficient, rare artworks, the house can be sold as is, totaling 6 bedrooms, 4 large suites, 2 master bedrooms, a study (office), 4 bathrooms, 6 showers and toilets, a 50-square-meter bomb shelter in steel and concrete with filters, a cinema room, a wine cellar, a laundry room, a maid's room, a wet room for the pool, a designed elevator, 2 dunams with building rights.

For more info, call now or send emaiil

972-52-5540666

Email: kingsolomon8000@gmail.com

[more-than-a-princess]

@electricea said: "Sonia, have you ever managed to successfully summon a demon before?"

"Yes! Or I am rather certain I have. Unless it was the ghosts that populate Novoselic Castle, Boudry House, and our country estate that cause objects to fall or be misplaced, or for the air to become terribly cold and smelling of decay. Unlike the ghosts though, I think demons prefer their concealing abilities."

There is, of course, also the likelihood that her family's ancient homes are difficult to keep warm without major renovations and that they rely on fireplaces when needed.

But don't think on that too hard: her collection of antique manuals written in Latin or Italian about summoning demons only grows each time she's able to travel and visit used book shops.

If she asks you to be a sacrifice for one of her rituals, won't you say yes?

[covingtongardens11]

Opulent Occasions: Luxury Wedding Venues in North Carolina

For couples with discerning tastes and a penchant for opulence, North Carolina offers a splendid array of luxury wedding venues that redefine the concept of a dream wedding. From historic estates to modern marvels, these venues provide an exquisite backdrop for couples seeking a celebration that is as lavish as their love. In this exploration, we delve into the world of opulent occasions, uncovering the allure and unique features of luxury wedding venues in the charming state of North Carolina.

Biltmore Estate: A Gilded Age Extravaganza

Undoubtedly one of North Carolina's crown jewels, the Biltmore Estate stands as a testament to the Gilded Age's opulence. Nestled in the picturesque mountains of Asheville, this grand estate boasts regal architecture, sprawling gardens, and breathtaking views. Couples can exchange vows in the opulent Banquet Hall, surrounded by intricate woodwork and a magnificent fireplace, or choose the Italian Garden for an outdoor ceremony overlooking the estate. The Biltmore Estate is an epitome of luxury, offering a timeless and sophisticated setting for an unforgettable wedding.

The Umstead Hotel and Spa: Modern Elegance in Cary

For couples seeking modern elegance, The Umstead Hotel and Spa in Cary provides a luxurious oasis. Surrounded by tranquil gardens and a peaceful lake, this award-winning hotel offers contemporary architecture and upscale amenities. The Grand Ballroom, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and crystal chandeliers, provides a stunning setting for a lavish reception. The Umstead's commitment to culinary excellence ensures that every aspect of the wedding, from the ceremony to the dining experience, is infused with sophistication and style.

Graylyn Estate: Old-World Charm in Winston-Salem

Stepping onto the grounds of Graylyn Estate in Winston-Salem is like entering a bygone era of refined luxury. This historic estate, reminiscent of a European manor, features lush gardens, antique furnishings, and grand ballrooms. Couples can choose to say their vows in the intimate Bowens Room or opt for a lavish celebration in the opulent Mews. Graylyn Estate provides a timeless and romantic backdrop for couples who appreciate the charm of old-world elegance and seek a wedding venue that exudes sophistication.

Rose Hill Plantation: Southern Grandeur in Nashville

Nestled in the heart of eastern North Carolina, Rose Hill Plantation offers Southern grandeur at its finest. The plantation's historic manor, surrounded by centuries-old oak trees, sets the stage for a wedding straight out of a classic Southern romance. The Carriage House and the sprawling grounds provide ample space for a grand ceremony and a luxurious reception. Rose Hill Plantation embodies the epitome of Southern charm, offering a venue where elegance and tradition converge for an opulent celebration.

The Sutherland: Timeless Romance in Wake Forest

A venue that seamlessly blends modern luxury with timeless romance, The Sutherland in Wake Forest captures the essence of opulent occasions. The estate, with its meticulously manicured gardens and a historic mansion, provides a backdrop that is both classic and sophisticated. Couples can exchange vows in the lush garden or opt for an indoor ceremony in the elegantly adorned ballroom. The Sutherland's commitment to personalized service ensures that every detail of the wedding is curated to perfection, creating an atmosphere of unparalleled luxury.

The Duke Mansion: Historic Splendor in Charlotte

Nestled in the heart of Charlotte, The Duke Mansion stands as a testament to historic splendor and Southern charm. This grand estate, once the residence of James Buchanan Duke, exudes elegance and sophistication. The beautifully landscaped gardens and the grandeur of the mansion provide a regal setting for a luxurious wedding. With multiple event spaces, including the exquisite outdoor terraces and the opulent indoor rooms, The Duke Mansion caters to couples who desire a wedding venue that radiates timeless allure and Southern hospitality.

Conclusion: Crafting a Timeless Tale of Luxury

In the enchanting landscape of North Carolina, luxury wedding venues offer couples the opportunity to craft a timeless tale of opulence and romance. From the grandeur of the Biltmore Estate to the modern elegance of The Umstead Hotel and Spa, and from the old-world charm of Graylyn Estate to the Southern grandeur of Rose Hill Plantation, these venues cater to diverse tastes while upholding the highest standards of luxury.

Choosing a luxury wedding venue is not just about a location; it's about creating an experience that reflects the couple's unique style and aspirations. Each venue mentioned, with its distinctive features and opulent ambiance, allows couples to weave their love story into the very fabric of history and luxury. In the embrace of luxury wedding venues in north carolina, couples can embark on a journey that transcends the ordinary, crafting a celebration that is not just an event but an opulent occasion etched in time.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Stunning 1880 Italianate Victorian Painted Lady in Claysville, Pennsylvania. 5bds, 4ba, $475K. For that price, this gorgeous home is a bargain.

So many original features are seen the moment you enter the hall. There's a beautiful newel post, a large stained glass window on the landing, and on the left you can see a bit of a fancy fireplace.

The first sitting room has a lovely carved fireplace.

The millwork in this home is amazing.

The fireplace that was glimpsed from the hallway is in this sitting room.

The dining room looks like a step back in time.

This is a good kitchen reno. They chose vintage-y cabinets with wood that matches the rest of the house.

Pretty tile backsplash and although it's more of a galley kitchen, it's pretty big.

At the other end of the kitchen is a nicely sized everyday dining area, plus a counter with stools.

The stairway features a gracefully curving rail.

The landing is beautiful.

This bedroom has a fireplace and a little ivy mural.

This bath is professionally painted and has a nice reproduction tub and sink.

The primary bedroom is elegant.

Amazing primary en-suite has a copper tub, Victorian water tank toilet and a repro Victorian shower. A sink cabinet was made from an antique dresser.

Another pretty room and look at the mirror over the sinks.

It also has an etched glass door on the shower and a jetted soaker tub.

The hallways are so pretty.

In the back of the house is a carport, a large wraparound porch, and look at the pattern on the roof, plus the tower. This home is gorgeous.