#back bay office movers

[mastodonmoving]

Mastodon Moving understands that every office move is different. They work closely with each client to develop customized moving plans tailored to their specific needs and circumstances. Whether you're in the Financial District, Charlestown, North End, Allston, Brighton, West End, or Beacon Hill, they can adapt their services to meet your requirements. Mastodon Moving specializes in office moves, meaning they have the expertise and experience necessary to handle the unique challenges that come with relocating a business. Whether you're in the Seaport, Back Bay, Downtown, or any other neighborhood, they understand the logistics involved in moving office equipment, furniture, and technology safely and efficiently. : When relocating an office, ensuring the safety and security of your assets is paramount. Mastodon Moving employs trained professionals who know how to handle office equipment and furniture with care, minimizing the risk of damage or loss during the move.

[leah-halliwell92]

Marionette

Summary: The kidnapping of His Eminence Papa Emeritus III and essential calls are made.

Disclaimer: This book is rated 18+! If you are a minor DO NOT interact! Book contains depictions of violence, dismemberment, age gap relationship(s), and includes themes that revolve around religion and darker themes that maybe uncomfortable for some readers.

Chapter 1: The Kidnapping

Secondo stood by the door that led to Primo’s private garden arms crossed keeping guard and a somber eye on his family as they and their respective ghouls paid their respects to their husband, friend, and brother. He watched as Primo led a small service in honor of their fallen brother, Terzo’s wife, and Prime Mover Jenesis sitting between Rosie and Copia as she tried to keep a strong front as they laid Terzo to rest. He watched as their youngest brother fought to keep his tears at bay. And no matter how hard, bitter, or angry he may be, Secondo had a soft spot for his two youngest brothers. And now here he stood, witnessing the burial of one of them. He fought the urge to flee to his father’s office and confront him on what in Satana’s name he had been thinking in allowing such a thing to come to pass. How could he have allowed them to kill his own son? But he wasn’t a naive little boy anymore, he knew better. 

Special stood beside him offering his silent support and reassuring nod. Secondo didn’t know what reassurance he needed but nonetheless appreciated the ghoul’s efforts. 

“No one comes in,” he told the ghoul, voice gravely and deep in barely restrained grief.

Special nodded and took his place resisting the urge to sigh. He wished he could somehow comfort his charges but knew now was not the time.

Meanwhile, Secondon took a seat next to Copia offering his fratellino as much of his silent strength as he could while trying to keep himself afloat. Copia had yet to look up at anything but his fisted hand on his lap, while his other held onto Jenesis’ hand offering her all that he had in that gesture. Primo looked decades older than he should, though the eldest of their hellish foursome, he’d always kept himself healthy. It was a necessity in order to successfully raise two brothers and run the church.

The family ended their service and wandered back to Primo’s suit in the Papal wing. 

“How can we be sure it was him?” Copia quietly asked, no unkindly the disbelief and shock still very evident through his grief. 

“ Nostro Padre said there was physical proof delivered to the church,” Primo stated, voice bleak.

The family shuddered at the thought, each thinking around the same thing…a body part had been delivered.

In this case, Secondo thanked Satanas he had not decided on bursting through his father’s office. He had no idea what he would have actually doneshould the proof of his brother’s murder be present. 

Jenesis looked to her family, a hand firmly on her still flat tummy, and resolutely said, “She better keep her distance from me and mine or there will be consequences.”

Secondo had to give it to her, Jenesis had balls of bronze to openly declare anything against Sister Imperator. No matter how much they all knew she was at fault. Turning his gaze to Copia he noticed his fratellino’s shoulders drop further and his complexion pale even more at the possibility that his own mother could be behind this. He shared a look with Primo who took their baby brother aside. No sooner had this happened, Copia practically fell into their eldest brother’s embrace sobs shaking his wiry frame. The combined emotions of their brother’s murder on top of there being a very likely chance his mother was behind all of it too much for him to carry.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Meanwhile a week prior in Sweden…

Omega sniffed at the air before taking to the shadows and following after the van they had shoved Terzo into. The faster he approached the van the clearer the argument the kidnappers were having got.

“Papa! That’s who we were sent out to fuck up!” Dickhead one yelled, incredulously, “For the love of everything that is unholy Sergio please tell me that you didn’t just accept a job to kill the fucking leader of our church!?”

Once the van slowed to a stop at a stop light, Omega used the shadows to sneak into the van. He saw Terzo bound and gagged on the bed of the van, a sigh of relief was quietly exhaled as he noticed that had been all that was done to Terzo.

“She said we’d be rewarded,” Sergio replied, voice shaky as the implications of what he’d agreed to do started setting in.

“We’d be ostracized and maybe even be executed, you moron!” Dickhead one yelled angrily, “Did you stop to think what the other Papas could do to us if they find out we did this to their brother?”

Sergio remained quiet and stepped on it once the light turned green. It had been late enough in the night that no one was out, giving them the advantage of stepping on it and getting out of the city.

“If you were going to step on it why even bother with the stop light?” Omega asked, voice cold as ice as he released Terzo from his bonds.

Luckily, they’d been far enough away from that city that when Sergio did push on the breaks nothing and no one was hurt…yet.

Omega growled ready to pounce.

“Omega stop,” Terzo spoke.

Though shaken to his core, the order was clear. Terzo the popstar had disappeared and in his place was Papa Emeritus III.

Dickhead One noticed the change and made quick work of opening the van.

“What are you doing Matthew!?” Sergio asked in disbelief.

“You agreed to this so-called job for me without thinking through anything,” Matthew stated, voice hard, “You took the easy way out thinking there would be glory behind taking down Papa. It would have made more sense for God himself to kill him than us. What in the seven hells were you even thinking Sergio!? Glory? Recognition? We’d finally found a home dammit!”

Omega watched as Matthew broke down, recognizing the heart that one had.

Through this tirade, Sergio stood still with a shame-filled resentful sneer on his face. Matthew stared at his brother embarrassment and shame riddled into one as he waited for his brother to say literally anything to justify the taking of a life.

“We wouldn’t have been nothing anymore man,” Sergio said through gritted teeth.

“Did you ever stop to think that I was happy doing what I was doing? No matter how big or small or insignificant you think it might have been I was happy just being a part of something?” Matthew asked, his voice thick with tears.

This clearly had not been something that Sergio had taken into consideration. The fool had been thinking of himself at that point in time and only included his brother to keep him close and share in the glory. But never had he ever thought that finding a place to call home and belonging would have been more than enough for Matthew to find peace.

Terzo and Omega watched the exchange with interest, Terzo feeling for the eldest of the two brothers as he saw true regret. Things could not just be left alone now though, answers were needed to make calculated plans come to fruition. 

“Who sent you?” He asked plainly.

“Sister Imperator,” Matthew answered directly, head bowed and hands balled into fists at his sides.

Sergio looked at his brother in shock, how could he give it all away just like that!?

Omega saw this and stepped in, “You’re dead anyway. You were going to die anyway and one way or another answers would have been obtained.”

Sergio swallowed heavily at this and remained silent.

“We don’t know why exactly, I swear,” Matthew continued, “My idiot brother took the job thinking he’d find glory in ending the line but as for the why on her part I, or we, don’t know.”

Terzo nodded at this and gave a thoughtful sigh.

“Boss, this means the end goal was for you to turn up dead or not turn up at all,” Omega pointed out, “This means that you need to make a full disappearing act sooner rather than later.”

Terzo nodded at his ghoul’s sage knowledge.

“Which means she’ll want proof of death,” Terzo added, an unidentifiable edge in his voice that put Omega on his own edge.

Without much warning, Terzo reached into the van, dug around until he found a small wood ax, and walked away until he came across a fallen log.

“Boss–” 

The trio of men looked on in horror as Terzo placed his empty hand on the log fingers spread as wide as they could go before relentlessly letting the ax fall.

The scream that was heard was deafening, the pain that it came laced in indescribable. And yet here was the proof of death needed for Terzo to make his escape.

“You do realize that no act can go unpunished, si?” He breathlessly asked the brothers, “Omega if you would.”

Matthew’s eyes widened at what the statement implied and nodded in understanding at what it meant. He’d threatened Papa’s life, there was no forgiving this.

“No please!” Begged Sergio as Omega drew him deeper and deeper into the tree line. 

Matthew’s lips quivered as he heard his brother’s screams as the ghoul ruthlessly ended his life.

Terzo meanwhile had taken what was left of his glove and covered the stump where his finger used to be.

“Do not mistake I left you alive as a mercy,” Terzo grimly stated, “Your punishment will be this, the death of your brother for his own actions. You are alive as a lesson, whether or not you learn it is not up to me.”

Matthew nodded regardless of the tears that fell from his eyes. 

“Take the finger,” Terzo ordered, “...and should Imperator ask what happened to your brother…”

The latter looked in the direction Omega went with the other man, Terzo’s comment revealing what it was Matthew was going to say upon returning to the States.

Omega returned, corpse thrown over his shoulder as he made his way back to the van.

They all piled into the van, Matthew on the wheel as Omega made quick work of tarping up Sergio’s body.

Matthew drove on hoping he’d wake from this living nightmare but knew the nightmare had only just begun.

/////

Let me know what ya’ll think! Tag list open and all feedback is welcome! Don't forget to comment, reblog, and do all them good things.

[movers-packers-in-dubai]

Most Popular Moving Company Business Bay

Most Popular Moving Company Business Bay 

(24/7 Customer Service Support : 0525280886) If you are based in Business Bay Dubai  or any other places in UAE, we will transfer your belongings from your house, flat or apartment. We are Most Popular Moving Company in Business Bay Dubai  who will make your move simple and safe, as well as give the best moving service. Moving Company in Business Bay Dubai  provides moving services at a lowest cost. We understand that moving to a new home is a new beginning for you and your family. The complexity of the relocation process, on the other hand, might cause you to fall behind in your new life. It is our responsibility to make certain that this does not happen to you and that you begin your life in your new home with a pleasant attitude. We are a moving and packing business that specializes in flat relocation, home relocation, office relocation, and office removal. People who are kind and provide professional services. We provide the best and most comprehensive moving and handling services at the best prices for LCD repair, as well as mending your office or home, flat/villa/apartment furnishings, and curtain and blind repair. We are a competent firm that has never had a problem with fair pricing. We'll take good care of your items and pack and handle them with care. Individuals and businesses may count on us to help them move their possessions from one area to another. Packing, loading, relocating, and arranging for product shipping are some of the services we offer. Please give us a call if you have any questions. Call Now Most Popular Moving Company in Business Bay Dubai . To Get a Quick Moving Quote, send us below details now. Select ServiceVilla MovingApartment MovingOffice MovingPaint ServicesPacking/Unpacking ServicesFurniture Assembling/Disassembling ServicesStorage Services CityDubaiSharjahAbu DhabiAl AinRas Al KhorAjmanFujairah Estimated Moving Date Moving SizeStudioOne BHKTwo BHKThree BHKFour BHKVILLAOffice MoveOne Item Move

Best Movers and Packers in JBR Dubai 

Moving a corporate or company office is an expensive and time-consuming process that involves not only the movement of office furniture but also the relocation of critical technology. Furthermore, while the relocation is taking place, the business will be put on hold. We understand that you want to get this step out of the way so you can get back to work. Unique Home Movers and Packers provides reliable Most Popular Moving Services in Business Bay Dubai , Abu Dhabi, Ajman, Sharjah, Ras Al Khaimah, Fujairah and all over UAE..

Most Popular Moving Company in Business Bay Dubai  Most Popular Moving Company in Business Bay Dubai : To use house/Villa/office or apartment shifting, you should plan ahead of time because the Business Bay Dubai is a difficult area for  dispatchers because it has a comprehensive area with tall buildings and limited parking space, but if you are a resident of JBR Dubai or need to rent property in Jumeirah Beach Residence Dubai, we can do the mover and packer job effectively and according to your needs. If you need to relocate from one location to another, please contact us now. Dial 24/7 Helpline 0525280886.

Read the full article

[movingforwardsf]

Smooth Relocations with Moving Forward: The Leading San Francisco Office and Home Movers

Moving might perhaps be one of the biggest life standard activities that demand time and resources, but it does not have to be complicated. So if you are planning an office move or even if you are moving to a new home in San Francisco, Moving Forward is here for you to make the move easy, fast and stress free.

At Moving Forward we boast of being experts in both commercial and residential moving services in the Bay area. Our team has gained the years of experience to make your move a seamless process and one that is done with the upmost care whether it is moving a large office filled downtown or one’s valued home.

Why Let Moving Forward Be Your Relocation Solution? It was important for us not only to meet our clients’ expectations and be able to move boxes from one place to another but also to move forward in the development of our company. Here’s why businesses and homeowners in San Francisco trust us

Comprehensive Office Moving Services Each office move entails organization, accuracy and most importantly, compliance to schedule. Everyone knows that time taken to move from one place to another is time that can be used to work, therefore we have optimized for fast and accurate service. When moving from one location to another whether it is a small start up or a large company we have the capacity to transport all the machinery, computers, furniture and other equipment’s and set them up in the new place without causing any nuisance to your business.

It is our commitment towards you to have your office move properly organized by our team of professionals. On this aspect, we are equally we involved in packing and labeling of documents and it equipment and dismantling and reassembly of office furniture. When you use our San Francisco office moving services, you can rest assured that you have the time and resources to go back to setting up in the new office.

Exceptional Home Moving Services Transferring homes is always such a big deal not only to the dwellers of the house but to the house itself. Whether it is a young family moving into another state, or an elderly person moving to a smaller home, Moving Forward handles people’s belongings with as much care as it would with its own. All your delicate items as well as your massive pieces of furniture will be carried by our expert San Francisco home movers

We have individualized moving services in order to suit the particular needs of every client. Whether you’re relocating from one city to another or from one neighborhood to the other, we will help you to come up with a schedule that meets your budget expectations. Well, we are native to the city; therefore, we are conversant with small and complicated roads, crowded areas, and even challenging parking zones, meaning that our clients’ transition from one home to another will be seamless.

It goes without a doubt that Customer Satisfaction IS OUR PRIORITY. This is one of the reasons why we have obtained a following in the San Francisco area: meeting the customer’s needs. Thus, we are convinced that our further communication should be open, and we must be transparent and reliable at the time of the move. At our company, we will presume a customer-friendly approach as soon as you make the first contact with our team.

Most of our clients have moved with us for their future moves; we have developed relationships with the people in the community. For commercial and residential Washington DC movers, our business plan is simple: to provide only the best moves and make each move a pleasure.

Moving Made Easy is a company that offers efficient moving services which will help you make your move stress-free. That is the good news about moving, it does not have to be an inconvenience. What this is saying is that, today you will be able to get Moving Forward and find that you are introduced to an organization that is offering the highest quality services that help take some of the burdens off people. If you are a start-up company that requires the services of San Francisco office movers or a family that require San Francisco home moving services, we have professionals who will assist throughout the moving process.

This is your chance to relax knowing you’ve hired a moving company that is empathetic about your situation. Use our services for your next move so that you can concentrate on change while we undertake the work.

[alliedhomemover]

Allied Home Movers And Packers In Business Bay | 0552964414

Cheap Movers and Packers Dubai Finding Affordable Moves

Dubai has become a hub for professionals looking for lucrative job opportunities and businesses eyeing expansion in the Middle East. Consequently, there is a constant influx of people relocating to the emirate. As per estimates, over 245,000 people moved to Dubai in 2021 alone.

Relocating even within the same country can be an expensive affair. International moves involving intercontinental shipments of household goods can cost an arm and a leg. While the opulent lifestyle and world-class infrastructure of Dubai have their charm, it also comes with a hefty price tag. Hiring full-service movers and packers in Dubai can set you back by several thousand dirhams.

This is where budget movers and packers come into the picture. They offer cost-effective solutions without compromising on safety or efficiency. Whether you are moving homes, offices, or warehouses, choosing affordable movers in Dubai can save you tons of money. Read on to know more about the benefits of low-cost packers and tips for finding them.

Benefits of Hiring Cheap Movers in Dubai

Save on Relocation Costs

The biggest benefit of cheap movers in Dubai is the savings on your overall relocation budget. Once you have shortlisted a few budget-friendly movers, compare their quotes to filter the best price. Going with the most economical quote means spending less on packing, unpacking, loading, transportation, and unloading services.

No Compromise on Safety

Just because movers offer cheap rates doesn't mean they will compromise on safety. Professional movers, regardless of their prices, will have well-trained staff and the right equipment such as trolleys, dollies, ramps, etc. They will pack your fragile and delicate items securely using quality materials. Your possessions will be handled with care during loading, transit, and unloading.

Avoid Hidden Charges

Several fly-by-night movers trap customers with hidden charges for additional services disclosed later. This can exceed your budget. However, licensed and credible cheap packers are transparent about their fees. They will disclose all charges upfront in the quote so that you have predictable relocation costs.

Enjoy Basic Services

Cheap doesn't mean poor. Budget movers in Dubai provide all basic services of packing, loading, transportation, unloading, and unpacking your household goods or office assets. The service quality will meet your expectations even if you don't spend a premium.

Get Location Flexibility

Professional yet affordable movers in Dubai have better location flexibility when compared to their upscale counterparts. You can easily find them for moves between neighborhoods or even for inter-emirate relocations like Dubai to Abu Dhabi or Sharjah.

Finding Budget-Friendly Movers in Dubai

Online Research

With internet penetration rising sharply in Dubai, online resources are great for finding cost-effective packers quickly. Search Google using keywords like "cheap and best movers in Dubai" or "affordable packers in Dubai". Shortlist a few credible companies with relevant experience.

Compare Quotes

Shortlist at least 3-4 budget-friendly movers in Dubai based on credentials, experience, and location. Ask for in-home estimates and compare quotes. Don't just go for the cheapest quote blindly. See if the prices match your requirements. Ask questions if you need clarifications on charges.

Look for Discounts

Keep an eye on seasonal discounts and festive promotions offered by movers. You can save good money by timing your shift during periods of offer. Some movers also give corporate discounts if your company has tie-ups with them. Browse through coupon sites for exclusive promo codes before hiring movers.

What to Expect from Cheap Movers

Hiring affordable packers and movers in Dubai has its pros and cons. You get quality basic services at lower costs but need to manage your expectations on add-ons and extras.

Packing and Moving Services

Budget movers will handle all core tasks efficiently - packing, loading, transportation, unloading, unpacking, and arranging your goods. You can expect a smooth moving process and reliable handling of your valuables.

Limited Insurance

Most cheap moving companies have standard insurance to cover damages up to a certain limit. But don't expect extensive coverage for mishaps. You may have to pay from your pocket for repairs or replacement in case of incidents during transit.

Fewer Add-ons

Upscale movers offer value-added services like pet relocation, plant shifting, car transportation, storage facility, etc. Cheap movers will focus only on core packing and moving tasks. Don't expect extra services unless you choose a higher package.

Tips for Saving on Movers in Dubai

Book During Off-Season

Avoid moving in peak seasons like summer holidays or major festivals when demands surge. Relocate in off-seasons like weekday afternoons or cooler months for better deals.

Opt for Warehouse Moving

Warehouse relocation is more affordable than residential moves. You also have the option of splitting your shipment if you are moving large volumes of goods.

DIY Packing

Do basic packing of easy-to-handle items like clothes, books, toys, and kitchenware yourself. Let movers handle only furniture and appliances. This reduces service hours and costs.

Compare Multiple Quotes

Don't finalize the first quote you receive. Approach at least 5-6 cheap packers in Dubai for quotes. Compare and negotiate to get the best price.

Reputable Cheap Moving Companies in Dubai

These are some of the most reputable and affordable movers and packers in Dubai to consider:

Easy Movers

Quick Relocations

1st Move Dubai

My Mover

Smart Shifting

Easy Packers

Affordable Movers

Dubai on Budget Movers

FAQs

How much do packers and movers cost in Dubai?

Packers and movers in Dubai typically charge between AED 2,000-4,500 for a 1-2 bedroom apartment move. Costs vary based on location, volume of items, and additional services.

What are the cheapest movers options?

Some budget-friendly movers in Dubai include Easy Movers, Smart Shifting, and Affordable Movers. Getting quotes from multiple companies and comparing prices is key to finding the lowest rate.

How much does it cost to move a 3 bedroom house in Dubai?

Expect to pay AED 4,000-7,000 for a full-service move of a 3 bedroom villa in Dubai. Final price depends on villa size, distance, number of possessions, and any extra services.

How much should you tip movers in Dubai?

Tipping movers is optional in Dubai. If you're satisfied with the service, 5-10% of the total bill or AED 50-100 per mover is an appropriate gratuity.

Conclusion

Don't let relocation burn a hole in your pocket, especially in an expensive city like Dubai. With some wise choices, you can reduce your moving costs significantly. Follow the tips in this guide to hire cheap and reliable movers and packers in Dubai. They will handle your move efficiently within your budget. Just ensure to do background checks before signing contracts for a smooth relocation.

[kingmovers2]

Movers and Packers in Business Bay

Business Bay Movers and Packers Introduction Welcome to our comprehensive guide to Business Bay Movers and Packers! If you're planning a move and looking for reliable and efficient moving services in the Business Bay area, you've come to the right place. We know moving can be daunting, but with our expertise and commitment to providing first-class service, we aim to make your move smooth and stress-free.

Why Should I Choose Professional Movers and Packers? Moving can be a daunting process that requires careful planning and execution. Hiring professional movers and packers has many benefits that can save you time, effort, and unnecessary stress. Let's take a look at some of the top reasons why choosing professional support is a wise decision:

Expertise and Experience Business Bay's professional movers and packers come in many varieties. We have extensive experience in handling the relocation. They know best practices, techniques, and strategies to keep the migration process running smoothly. Thanks to their expertise, you can be confident that your property will be treated with the utmost care and professionalism.

2nd Efficient packing and organization One of the most time-consuming parts of moving is the packing process. But with a professional moving and packing service provider, you can sit back and relax while your belongings are efficiently packed and organized. We use high-quality packaging materials suitable for a wide range of products to ensure optimum protection during transport.

Safe Transport Transporting your belongings to your new location is an important step in moving. Professional movers and packers use well-maintained and well-equipped vehicles to protect your belongings throughout your trip. Our drivers are knowledgeable and experienced in navigating various routes, ensuring a safe and timely arrival at your new destination.

Business Bay Moving and Packing Services When choosing the right moving and packing services for Business Bay, choosing a company that offers a wide range of services designed to meet your specific needs is important. Here are some of the main services you can expect from reputable movers.

House Moves Whether you are moving from a small apartment or a large family home, professional moving and packing companies specialize in making house moves go smoothly. Increase. From dismantling furniture to packing delicate items, we ensure your belongings are safely transported and unpacked to your new home.

Office and Commercial Space Relocation Office or commercial space relocation requires careful planning to minimize disruption to business operations. Business Bay's experienced movers and packers understand the unique challenges associated with moving an office and can handle the process efficiently so you can focus on your core business activities.

International Moving If you plan to move internationally, our professional movers and packers can help you with every aspect of the international moving process. From customs paperwork to coordinating shipping logistics, they have the knowledge and resources to ensure a smooth transition to your new country.

How do I choose the right mover and packer? Choosing the right mover and packer at Business Bay is critical to a successful move. Consider the following factors when making your decision:

Reputation and Rating Research the reputation of various movements

[mastermover345]

Movers Service At Low-cost Fixed Prices

And because our homeowners are individual buyers, they understand what it’s wish to take care of various demands, upkeep, and funds – so we are ready to provide you with personal care when needed. Because CapeHolidays is not trying to be the biggest agency in Cape Town, we can Corporate Office Movers Simons Town give you customized service. Once you get to know us and belief us, as our homeowners do, you’ll really feel this happiness since your home is not just an asset that must be maintained. (10) Being overseas and relying solely on you to arrange bookings and manage our property makes it robust to think of methods for you to improve your service.

I suppose ultimately it took about 6 and a half hours and so they worked non cease. I will be using these guys for anytime myself and I would undoubtedly advocate them to all of my pals or household need movers seriously price every penny. Our DBN Moving Company teams in Cape Town are localised & size-specific for large & small home removals. Our Cape Town Moving teams Storage Simons Town cate for all removals that require moving to or from Nothern Buburbs , Somerset West Paarl and even West & East Coast. All our Trucks are enclosed and outfitted with blankets, strapping & protecting wrapping to make sure your house is relocated safely and securely! Near our shoppers We cowl specific areas throughout the totally different regions within the Western Cape.

It is said that clearing out the remnants of the earlier owners is important if a house is to actually really feel like a home. It also seems that, along with upgrading our residing conditions, we should experience specific moments or elements of life beneath a roof to have the International Movers Simons Town ability to call it a home. It’s believed that money is a major source of fear for individuals who plan to relocate. Even when you lead a easy life, moving to a new residence may be costly. It doesn’t matter if you have the money or not to relocate; moving will still price you cash and add to your worries.

You can open moving boxes without scissors or field cutters by creating a pull tab. Leaving further string on the perimeters, insert a bit in the midst of the closed box flaps. Keep slightly bit of string un-taped on the end of the box and seal it with moving tape. It’s roughly a 15-minute stroll from the seashore along Recreation Road to Valyland Shopping Center.

Although quieter than more central Cape Town areas, Hout Bay has plenty of good services and amenities. It boasts some incredible seafood eating places, a energetic weekend market, bars with stay music and water sports activities including stand-up paddling, canoeing, and surfing. One of the massive cultural points of interest is Mariner’s Wharf, which has eating places, marine-focused outlets and vacationer actions. The Hout Bay International School is a good performing college with a diverse student combine. These suburbs are a bit extra remote than another areas, ranging from between 10–15 kilometers from the city heart.

This suburb is a popular alternative among students, with its competitively priced leases and proximity to campus allows for a comfortable commute to and from classes. Located in the stunning Constantia Valley is the leafy suburb of Bishopscourt. Large oak trees line quiet streets the place established household properties can be found. Bishopscourt can also be the location Moving Company Simons Town of several international embassies and many celebrities have additionally taken up residence in this exquisite vacation spot. Homes in Bishopscourt easily fetch multimillion Rand costs and boasts views of the valley and False Bay. The waterfront presents a guided tour that permits guests to step back into the bygone period of sailors, mariners, and brave voyagers.

“This apparently was when it comes to international obligations on the South African Navy to help any vessel going around the Cape,” he said. The storage facilities are properly maintained and of a high normal Home Movers Simons Town. My contents have been delivered in the identical condition as once they had been first saved. We had a incredible move yesterday from Rondebosch to Simonstown.

‍SovTech is a know-how company that specialises in app improvement services. If you are thinking about creating an app with SovTech, there are a few steps you'll have the ability to take to get started. First, you'll must define your app thought and the problem it aims to solve. Then, you'll have the ability to reach out to SovTech and talk about your project with their team of specialists, who can help you refine your thought and supply guidance on the app development course of. Simon’s town is a wonderful seaside town in South Africa.

[projectoffice5487]

Model Businesses For Teenagers In Fish Hoek 7975

Of course, if you don’t want to be bogged down by the trouble of preserving your gutters clean, you presumably can rope within the professionals. These professionals have many years’ expertise and expertise in delivering the exceptional service and the results you’re after. Keep your home’s gutters looking nice with the assistance of seasoned experts out there everytime you want them. If you do determine to do it, make positive you have a sturdy and reliable ladder at hand that’s capable of handling your weight. Gutters are excessive you know… Whenever you’re cleaning out gutters, make certain you put on gloves, so you don’t touch dirt immediately. Nicks and cuts can quickly become infected if you’re not cautious, and that’s the final thing you want.

This is the place you will discover wonderful seashores, wonderful views and a few of the most unique Cape Town communities. Camps Bay and Clifton are essentially the most upmarket and costly Moving Company In Fish Hoek suburbs, while Sea Point is more densely populated and residential to many retirees. Green Point is extra popular with younger professionals and with Cape Town’s homosexual and lesbian community.

With aggressive costs and profound professionalism, they've earned themselves a spot amongst Cape Town residents' favorite furnishings elimination companies. Vuyani Transport Solutions is a moving company providing home and office furnishings removals and second-hand furniture retailer. VIP MOVERS was established in 2007 specialising in local and lengthy distance Household and Office furniture removals, storage and varied different removing services. To date we have Staff Relocation In Fish Hoek established a loyal residential, business and company client base in S.A. When using a removalist company to undertake all features of the move, particularly for international relocations, permit enough time for them to pack your items securely and without undue pressure. Their group will wrap and pack as they go from room to room, and this can be a time-consuming process when carried out professionally.

One of the big cultural attractions is Mariner’s Wharf, which has eating places, marine-focused retailers and vacationer activities. The Hout Bay International School is an efficient performing school with a various student combine. While the lifestyle is considerably quieter than within the Atlantic seaboard neighborhoods, the seashores listed here are lovely and thought of the best place for surfing Office Moves In Fish Hoek in the city. Some of Cape Town’s finest nature spots are in these components, together with Milnerton Lagoon, Woodbridge Island, and Rietvlei Nature Reserve. The West Coast is well-liked with younger expat households as well as those who need to discover the nice outdoors at a laid-back tempo. These neighborhoods are popular with wealthy expats who take the chance to purchase beachside properties and enjoy the high life.

His customer service is phenomenal and his pricing is very affordable. I will continue to make use of his services sooner or later and I would not hesitate to advocate his services to different people. Around 10km south of the city heart around the again of Table Mountain, the southern Cape Town suburbs are more packed with expats than the suburbs within the north. They embody both quiet family neighborhoods corresponding to Newlands, Rondebosch and Claremont in addition to more vibrant student-populated areas corresponding to Mowbray, Rosebank and Observatory. Established over 30 years in the past, the Locksmith in Fish Hoek is actually second to none.

We provide each family and industrial furnishings removals. We present from a primary moving service to a full value added companies like supplying and packing packing containers, wrapping and cleansing of vacated property. We have an extensive fleet of autos from 1 ton bakkies to enclosed eight ton vehicles. There isn't any job too big or too small ,too close or too far. We have experienced and friendly crew who will ease the burden of moving house. Leopard Moving Companies Cape Town Leopard Movers is a household run enterprise which offers furniture removals & Storage in Cape Town.

I would extremely recommend Peters Mini Removals and would positively use them once more. Contact us for a moving quote and we’ll provide the best value possible on your move. We are also willing to high other moving companies in Cape Town. We understand that moving home is annoying sufficient with out you needing to worry about the security of your valuable belongings. Our Office Movers in Cape Town could have your office relocated safely and effectively. Whether you’re moving from floor-to-floor, building-to-building, or Province-to-Province – you choose what choice fits your moving needs and our project managers will deal with the remainder.

[purocleanmyrtle01]

PuroClean Offers Fire Damage Assistance in Myrtle Beach

PuroClean Offers Fire Damage Assistance in Myrtle Beach

If your home or business has suffered fire damage, our fire damage assistance myrtle beach team is here to help. We offer emergency response, assessment and restoration services that are aimed at restoring your property as quickly and as safely as possible.

Our restoration experts will eliminate the source of moisture, dry and disinfect your building and possessions. This helps to prevent the growth of microbes such as mildew and mold.

Emergency Response

When fire and smoke damage to your home or business occurs, you’ll want an emergency response to restore your property quickly. PuroClean offers fire damage assistance myrtle beach to help you recover from these setbacks.

Water damage can be a huge threat to your home or business, and it’s important that moisture be extracted quickly to keep mold growth at bay. Our expert technicians will begin by using advanced pumping equipment to remove standing water from your premises and store it elsewhere.

The next step is dehumidification, which is a process that utilizes air-moving machines to pull out any trapped moisture. This helps to eliminate odors and prevents any further water damage.

A trained professional will then search for any areas likely to contain pre-existing mold and hastily make plans to eradicate it from your property. The contaminated areas will be carefully inspected and cleaned to ensure that they’re free of disease-causing pathogens.

Water Damage Remediation

When a home or business experiences water damage, it’s important to contact the best restoration company. These professionals have the training and equipment to handle all kinds of disasters.

They also know how to work with insurance companies to make the process of filing a claim smoother. The company will keep you updated throughout the process and ensure that you have all the information you need to file your claim.

The first step of the water restoration process involves removing all of the standing water through advanced pumping machines. Then, high-grade air movers and dehumidifiers are used to dry out the affected area.

Once the affected area is completely dried, reconstruction can begin. This process typically takes 1 to 2 weeks.

Mold Remediation

Mold infestations are a common concern for homeowners and business owners alike. It can cause a range of issues, including structural damage and respiratory illnesses.

Water leaks are a frequent cause of mold infestations, as are high humidity levels and moisture in the air. Both can lead to fungus growth and spread of mold spores throughout the building.

It’s important to get the help of a company that specializes in mold remediation as soon as you find mold growing in your home or office. This is because if left untreated, mold can become a serious health issue.

Fire and flood damage also cause a lot of problems, as they can leave behind water and debris that needs to be extracted. Only a team of specialists can properly clean up and sanitize a property following a disaster.

PuroClean offers fire damage myrtle beach assistance that will return your property to its pre-loss condition as quickly as possible. Their expert technicians will work tirelessly to return your home or office to its full potential.

Structural Repairs

In some cases, fire and smoke damage can result in structural issues that need to be addressed by a professional. A good restoration company will have a team of qualified construction experts to make the necessary repairs and modifications.

The most important part of the process is to get your home or business back to its pre-loss state, if not better, than before the fire or flood occurred. To accomplish this, the team at PuroClean will use advanced equipment and techniques to restore your property’s structure to its former glory.

Besides offering the best possible service, a quality restoration company should also be able to provide you with a solid warranty. This will protect you from a lot of potential pitfalls down the line, including water damage, mold infestations, and more. To find the right Myrtle Beach restoration company for you, be sure to choose one with a great reputation, top-notch customer service, and plenty of satisfied clients.

PuroClean Myrtle Beach

Address : 2411 N Oak St Suite 305-C, Myrtle Beach, SC 29577, United States

Phone : (800) 775-7876

Website :  https://www.puroclean.com/

[kutemouse]

Can you writing a yandere au? I would like to request soft yandere with joon, when he overprotektif and possesif, fluff fluff~

Disclaimers: The images from my header belong to BigHit and BTS, but I edited them together. I obviously don’t own Netflix, Converse, or BT21. Koya is BT21’s character, which belongs to Line Friends Corporation and BTS.

Hi kutie! So this is my first EVER attempt at yandere. I’ve read it, I’ve studied it, I’ve looked up multiple examples… so I hope I did the genre justice. It was way fun to write, I quite enjoyed it, especially with Namjoon. It was really interesting to explore the way he’s so level-headed on the outside, but maybe not so much on the inside 😅 Also, I split this into two parts, because I thought up this scenario and another one that went hand-in-hand. Look for part two soon! 💜

@kpopyandere, how did I do? 😳

Age Recommendation: 18+

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, yandere themes as in unhealthy obsession and possessiveness, swears, sexy Joon (yes, that’s a necessary warning).

Word Count: 2,690

Summary: A bit after moving to a new neighborhood, you happen to meet your sexy new neighbor completely by coincidence. Or was it?

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Becoming His (Namjoon One-Shot, Yandere, Angst, Fluff) Part One

You stared, slack-jawed, at the sight in front of you. Through your window, across your front lawn, and over the sidewalk stood none other than an absolute sex god. His white tank clung to his sweaty body in all the right places, revealing just how toned he was, and the way his brown hair was styled in a perfectly messy quaff made you go weak in the knees. He bent down and stretched out a leg, causing his shorts to ride up and reveal thick, muscular thighs. Your mouth parted open as your soul nearly left you.

The steaming cup of coffee in your hands nearly slipped from your grasp as you watched him stretch out his other leg, then walk up the neighbor’s driveway. Wait, no. That couldn’t be…? You scrambled over to your bay window, kneeling on the bench. The guy pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. The sex god was… your new neighbor?

Right before he stepped inside the door, his dark eyes suddenly flicked your way. You yeeted yourself off the bench and pressed your back to the wall, hoping and praying he didn’t see you. After all, you weren’t some creeper. You just happened to be passing by your large, front room window and simply stopped to admire the view. 

It might have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn your heard a chuckle before a door slammed. You crept back up to the window to find he had indeed gone inside, his door firmly shut.

What you didn’t know is that, against all your hopes and prayers, he had seen you. In fact, he’d been seeing you for a while. Kim Namjoon first noticed you the day you moved in. Boxes were all over the front drive, and you were directing the movers as best you could. He thought the way you ran your hands through your hair every time you started to get flustered was cute. Since then, he’d been keeping an eye on you.

Your every-day routine was pretty much the same. You’d get up, shower, then make a cup of coffee. You’d begin working in your office, which had a window that faced Namjoon’s house. Near midday, you’d go out for lunch and pick up another cup of coffee, which you’d stay and drink while continuing to work, or come back and drink while continuing to work. Namjoon preferred it when you came back home.

You ate dinner while working, then would finally call it quits and do one of three things: Binge Netflix,  play video games, or go for a swim in your backyard pool. The first time you emerged from the water, dripping wet, slicking your hair back, Namjoon knew he was in love. Now it was just a question of getting you to notice him.

He grew nervous in the few hours leading up to you seeing him for the first time. What if you woke up early that day? What if you chose to not sit in the bay window, staring out at the world as you drank your coffee? Namjoon could barely sleep from the anticipation. You, however, were dependable as usual. He couldn’t have timed it any more perfectly. The way your mouth fell open when he stopped in front of your house and stretched was exactly the reaction he was aiming for.

Now Namjoon needed to meet you. Talk to you. He knew the second you saw how much he cared for you, you’d fall in love with him too. He saw his chance two days later, when you decided to go for a swim rather than laze around. Despite the warm, humid evening, Namjoon went outside to shoot a few hoops, working up a good sweat as he repeatedly sprinted towards the basket, shot the ball, and caught it.

One time, he over-shot the ball, and it flew into your yard, landing in the pool. You yelped in surprise, quickly standing up as the orange sphere splashed down. “Sorry!” a voice called out. You wiped water out of your eyes and looked over to see your smokin’ hot neighbor peeking over the fence.

“It-It’s okay!” you spluttered, getting out of the pool and wrapping a towel around yourself. “I’ll throw it back!”

“No need!” His head disappeared, and you gasped as he suddenly vaulted over the fence. Oh god. He was shirtless. And sweaty. You swallowed hard as he ran a hand through his hair, looking like the most perfect of wet dreams. Wait, were you dreaming?

“I’ll take that,” he said, an easy smile spreading over his lips as he took the ball from your grasp.

You opened your mouth but no words came out. “I’ll, uh… I’ll be going now,” he said, jutting a thumb behind him.

“Wait!” Oh lord almighty. You couldn’t speak earlier, but the second you could, that was the only thing you could say?

He stopped and turned back towards you, eyebrows raised. “W-What’s your name?” you stuttered.

He smirked. “Kim Namjoon. And you are?”

“L/n Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you… Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.”

You lost your ability to form words once more. It was hard to think straight with his naked upper half glistening in the sunlight. Still, you couldn’t help sneaking little glances at his body and face, admiring just how handsome he was from up close.

Namjoon’s smirk grew. This is exactly the effect he hoped to have on you, and now he knew your name. He knew he’d be sleepless again tonight, murmuring your name over and over again, stretching out the syllables in different ways until he memorized it through and through… not to mention how good it sounded with the last name “Kim.”

“Thanks for letting me get my ball back,” Namjoon said.

“It’s no problem at all,” you replied, pressing the towel to your face to both warm and dry it.

Namjoon hesitated, wondering if he should continue. He didn’t want to ruin such a perfect moment, but at the same time, he wanted to prolong his time with you. “Listen,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I was thinking of grilling some hamburgers… Would you like to join me?”

You hesitated, and his heart sank. You, however, didn’t pause for the reasons he was imagining… you were pausing because you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep your hands off such temptation. You moved here for the quiet, to write in peace, not to get caught up in some heated, drama-filled thing with your neighbor. After your last so-called relationship, you’d had enough of that for a lifetime and then some. Plus, he was your neighbor. If things turned south, you’d have to either see him all the time or move again. Then again, the what-if’s were killing you. 

“You don’t have to,” Namjoon said, backtracking. “I just thought I’d offer since I ruined your pool time.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that,” you replied, quickly thinking. How much damage could sharing a meal really do? “I mean, a burger sounds great.”

He smiled, relieved. “Great. I just need to shower and change. Meet me over at mine in a half hour?”

“Sounds good,” you said, glad you’d have time to freshen up.

Those thirty minutes flew by in a whirlwind of stress. What to wear? Should you put on make-up? Would it be too much if you wore a dress instead of jeans?

“Fucking hell,” you thought, finally settling on a pair of jean shorts, a rose pink top, and your favorite pair of white Converse. You left your hair loose, tumbling around your face in waves, and you kept your make-up light. You were barbequing after all. It’s not like it was a date. Or was it?

Before you could stress yourself out any more, you forced yourself out the door and across the few meters to his front door. You timidly rang the doorbell, but he didn’t answer. Did he forget he invited you? You raised a fist to knock when Namjoon threw open the door, out of breath and tugging the hem of a white shirt down over his toned torso.

If you thought he looked good shirtless or in workout clothes, you had another thing coming. The collared white shirt he wore had sleeves that cut off just below his elbows, and the jeans he sported were held up by a black, leather belt paired with matching boots. The entire ensemble showed off a pleasantly sophisticated side of him that caused your stomach to flutter.

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly, gesturing for you to come inside. Truth was, Namjoon had been stressing just as much as you, perhaps even more so. Everything had to be perfect. He needed you to fall for him, no matter the cost.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving him a smile as you brushed by him. It was then that he caught it. Your scent. Namjoon thought it smelled familiar, but couldn’t put his finger on it. It was less flowery and more fruity. Whatever it was, he needed more of it. With your back turned, he closed his eyes and deeply inhaled, allowing you to overwhelm all of his senses.

“Wow,” you said, causing him to open his eyes. “Your place is… nice.”

Namjoon supposed it was. He hired a decorator back when he moved in, and they had done a pretty good job.

“Do you have any roommates?” you asked, facing him.

He shook his head. “Nope. Just me.”

“A big huge house all to yourself?”

He tossed you a sly smile. “Yep, it’s just me. I don’t… Well, I prefer peace and quiet when I come home.”

You smiled. “Same. I’m a writer. I absolutely need a tranquil atmosphere to do my thing.”

Ah, so that’s what you did on your computer all day. “A writer? Really? That’s so interesting,” Namjoon said. As you talked, he led the way to his backyard. It looked similar to yours, except his was bigger and had a slab of cement with a basketball hoop.

He produced a bottle of wine and poured you a glass. “Sit,” he said, smiling.

You did as he requested, sitting down on a patio chair sitting in the shade of his deck. “Are you sure I can’t help?” you asked.

“No, no, please. It’s the least I can do after chucking a basketball at you.”

“Probably for the best. I can’t cook worth shit. I just order take-out all the time.”

Namjoon found himself slightly taken aback by your colorful language. “Sorry,” you said, covering your mouth. “I just–”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, cutting you off. “If it makes you feel better, I can’t cook worth shit either. Well, except for burgers, that is.”

“Oh, thank god,” you said, laughing. Namjoon’s heart soared. He loved the sound of your laugh. If he could record it, he’d listen to it forever.

You took a sip of wine which helped to loosen your tongue. “So tell me, Namjoon,” you said. Oh god. He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue. Forget your laugh, he’d take a recording of that instead.

“What do you do for work?”

“Me? Oh, I code software. Last year, I developed my own app. You ever heard of one called Koya?”

You gasped. “Oh my god, I use that app all the time!”

Namjoon chuckled. “Well, then. Thank you for contributing to my paycheck.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Enough about me. You said you’re a writer… What do you write about?”

The conversation and wine continued to flow as Namjoon heated up the grill and cooked the hamburgers. They were just the way you liked, with melted cheese dripping from the patty and freshly cut vegetables loaded on top of it. The trick was trying not to make a huge mess as you devoured the burger in front of your new-found crush. Eventually, you gave up and just dug in. If he couldn’t deal with the way you ate, he wasn’t the man for you anyway.

Namjoon’s thoughts were to the contrary, actually. He couldn’t get enough of you. The way you cared too much then not at all. The way you took risks by asking him question after question and laughed at his jokes. But especially the way your hand lingered on his arm as you giggled.

You talked until the sun went down before heading back inside. “Well this has been great,” you said. As much as you wanted this night to last, you knew you were tipsy, and you didn’t want to mess this up before it had even begun.

“Wait,” Namjoon said. “I made dessert.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

You sighed. “Kim Namjoon, it’s official. You are the perfect man.”

He chuckled, a tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks. This was too good to be true. He had tried so hard for you, and now it was all paying off. He brought out a batch of homemade brownies covered with chocolate fudge frosting.

“I thought you said you couldn’t cook,” you said accusingly, leaning over the counter.

“This isn’t cooking,” Namjoon retorted with a grin. “It’s baking.”

You scoffed, but smiled nonetheless, taking a bite out of the brownie he’d cut for you. A bit of frosting got on your cheek, and he reached out to wipe it off before he could stop himself. The tenderness with which he touched you shocked you, but it also made you feel things you didn’t think you were prepared to feel. You looked up at him, into those dark eyes, and he looked down at you, still caressing your cheek. So slowly, you almost didn’t realize what was happening, Namjoon leaned down towards you, his gaze locked on your lips.

You suddenly stood upright. “Uh, hey, thanks for everything,” you said hurriedly. “But it’s getting kinda late, and I should probably be getting home.”

Wait, no. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. “I’ll walk you home,” Namjoon offered.

“No!” Wow, you said that way too quickly. “I mean, no thanks. It’s only next door, I’ll be fine. Thank you for the meal and a great evening… I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Erm, sure.”

You scrambled out the door, tossing him a smile before shutting it behind you. That was close. Too close. Another minute there and you might just have succumbed to your emotions. The problem was, everything was moving too fast. You only met him today, after all. You didn’t want to end up in his bed and become just another convenient fuck buddy like you did with… Ugh, you couldn’t even say his name. That jerk who broke your heart.

Still, as you entered your home and pressed your back to the inside of your door, you realized you felt bad. The look on his face when you up and left seemed… disappointed. Angry, even. He had just made you a full-out meal, after all. The least you could do was let him walk you home, even if it did result in a kiss or something more. You put a hand to your forehead, suddenly exasperated with yourself. Would you get another chance after blowing him off like that?

Just next door, Namjoon found himself slipping. What the fuck had he done wrong? Why didn’t you stay? Why did you practically bolt out the door, intent on getting the fuck out of there? It didn’t make sense. Namjoon paced around his kitchen, grabbing onto his hair and breathing hard. Had he messed up? Would he ever get to interact with you again? The unanswered questions were driving him crazy. Fed up, Namjoon suddenly lashed out and threw a fist at the wall, punching clean through the dry-wall. He barely felt the sting as his knuckles started to bleed.

It was then and there that Namjoon decided he’d do anything to get you back. Anything. He’d do whatever he needed to make it up to you, to make things right. After all, you were his. You were his and there was nothing you could do about it.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

*Plays organ* Dun, dun, DUUUUUUUNNNN!!! 😂 Enjoy Part Two.

[fastforwardtohappiness]

KorrAsami Fanfiction

JK I’m not really Zuko

In honor of KorrAsami’s 6th Year Anniversary, I’m sharing a short unfinished fan-fiction I’ve been working on since finishing the series for the second time. 

I’m not sure how this moment fits within Turf Wars/Ruins, but I’m picturing this as not too long after Korra and Asami return from their Spirit World vacation (maybe right after the events of Turf Wars end?), where Asami and Korra decide to move in together.  Enjoy!

(I tried to fix the formatting but Tumblr is annoying)

----

"I thought you said you were going to get something quaint?" Korra said sarcastically as she excitedly bounded through the apartment.

Asami giggled sheepishly, "I guess quaint isn't quite the right word, huh? It is smaller than the Sato Mansion..."

“Are you kidding? This view is amazing!” Korra chuckled as she ran towards a large open glass door that lead to a balcony that wrapped around the front of the apartment. Her bright blue eyes glinted with the reflection in front in front of her.

Their new apartment had a sweeping view of Republic City’s Yue Bay. The late summer sunset’s pink rays glittering warmly on the gentle swells. In the far distance she could also see Kyoshi Bridge, and Air Temple Island. Just a bit closer, was her past self proudly staring back at the city, seemingly admiring his accomplishment. Korra couldn't help but wonder if that was still the case - she wished she could ask.

Korra’s eyes then fell upon the ruins left in the wake of Kuviras attack. Her hand absentmindedly found the back of her head, “Er - if you look past the destroyed parts…”

“Think of it as an opportunity to make things even better that before!” Asami said walking up behind Korra and placing her hands on her shoulders.

“I actually already have some ideas in mind that I have to share with Zhu Li,” Asami added. Her hand found her chin as she looked at the shambles in the distance, her brow furrowed. Korra could almost see the gears in Asami's head churning.

Before Asami found a reason to disappear in her office for a few hours Korra interrupted her machinations. “How long do you think we’ll stay here?"

Korra and Asami found that after their fateful vacation in the Spirit World, they now had a new need for privacy that they didn’t really have before. 

The White Lotus members on Air Temple Island were still dutifully protecting Korra on Tenzin and Tonraq’s orders despite Korra’s fervent objections. They argued that extra security couldn’t hurt.

Korra and Asami were able to sneak away from them for a few brief moments of alone time, but eventually they would see or hear a White Lotus member lurking nearby. Although Asami was able to laugh at these moments, Korra was growing increasingly frustrated and Asami felt sorry for the White Lotus members that were being constantly chewed out by her angry girlfriend. Not to mention that when Tenzin’s kids were around, they clung to Korra like elbow leeches.

Asami's childhood home was now home to Mako, Bolin and practically all their known relatives. A lot of them having a hard time finding jobs in the Republic City job market. Although Ba Sing Se was a large and unforgiving city, and Mako's family had it rough there too, Republic City was also a harsh place to thrive in; Asami didn't want to rush them while they figured things out.

But mostly she felt haunted by the ghosts of her father and mother in those hallways – particularly now after her father's recent and gruesome death. She wasn’t ready to go back there even if there was a spare room available somewhere on the estate.

Asami shook the painful loss of her parents out of her head before Korra noticed a change in her expression, "I think we may be here for a while," Asami smiled tentatively.  

Korra didn't say anything, instead gently smiling back and moving closer to Asami. She gave Asami a light but meaningful peck on the cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, "Anywhere can be home as long as I'm with you."

Asami was sure that Korra noticed Asami trying to hide those painful thoughts. Korra always seemed to notice these things, especially nowadays.

Asami grabbed Korra’s hands and smiled, "I love you." She kissed Korra. Every time they kissed it was electric. A lightning bolt coursed through her body.  

Korra too felt this rush of energy flowing through from the moment their lips made contact. She felt like her entire spirit was being undone. Like she could float away into the heavens if she wasn't tethered to the Earth by some force. By Asami.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable but at the same time electrified, Korra pulled away suddenly and bounded out the open glass door. For a second, Asami tensed up as Korra jumped and disappeared in a gust of wind. A few moments later she heard Korra from somewhere above the doorframe, "Wow this place is unbelievable!”

Asami sometimes forgot that despite Korra's appearance, as an airbender she was extremely light on her feet and capable of near flight, but Korra's recklessness and impulsivity still sometimes caught her by surprise.

Korra's head hilariously popped upside down from the top of the door frame. Her hair blowing upside down in the cool evening breeze. "Care to join me?" She asked extending an arm out for Asami to grab.

"You know we have stair-,” Asami was caught off-guard by the ease in which Korra, hanging upside down by a fixture using her legs, was able to pull her up and over the railings above their balcony. They both landed lightly on a small lush garden created by spirit vines.

"Yeah but this is more fun,” Korra said cheekily.

Thick green vines ran up and around the side of the building, creating a private yet open green space that was only accessible to their apartment. Asami picked this place knowing that Korra would love coming up here to meditate.

Asami and Korra spent a long moment sitting on the rooftop spirit garden watching the fading sunlight be replaced by the vibrant city lights. 

While some parts of the city were currently almost in complete darkness, illuminated only by the golden aura of the new Republic City spirit portal, other sections of the city seemed to be doing their best to carry on as normal. For this reason Korra felt hopeful for the future of Republic City.

Occasionally a friendly spirit would appear near them and say hello. One spirit sat with them for a while. It enthusiastically spoke of all the positive changes the opening of the spirit portals has brought to the world. This brought Korra some much needed comfort. It jovially waved goodbye as it faded away and promised to visit often.

Eventually Korra and Asami's conversations turned to silence. They wordlessly sat with their fingers loosely intertwined, listening only to the distant hustle and bustle noises of Republic City night life.

Their silence was not because of lack of topics, as the two lovers never ran out of things to talk about, but because both of them were wordlessly appreciating how wonderful this moment felt. How at peace they both felt. How perfectly balanced they now were.

A low grumble brought them back to reality. Asami's head turned towards Korra, who returned her amused look with the crooked smirk she loved.

"You heard that, huh?"

"You worked so hard moving all our stuff in today. You must be hungry," Asami said understandably.

"Starving, actually." Korra said rubbing her stomach looking forlorn. Korra was always ready to eat.

Asami and Korra decided to make their way back into the apartment. “So, what's for dinner?" Korra asked excitedly.

"I was thinking of this restaurant nearby that serves authentic Fire Nation food - how's that sound? I say we order in tonight."

"Perfect! I haven't had fire nation food since I met with Firelord Zuko before I—”, Korra trailed off, feeling embarrassed again.

"Before you took a much needed break to heal from all the trauma you've been through these past few years?" Asami cautiously joked. "I know it's hard, but I try to stop feeling guilty about that. You did what was best for you in that moment and that’s OK."

Korra smiled, "Thanks. I'm still struggling to come to peace with it all, but I’ll get there."

"Take all the time you need," Asami said gently. "But don't you dare leave me without any warning again! I WILL hunt you down, Avatar." She jokingly threatened, while pointing a finger at Korra.

Korra laughed, "Easy there, Sato! I swear I'm not going anywhere without you ever again."

---

Asami and Korra decided to change into more comfortable clothes while they waited for their food delivery. 

Once in sleepwear, they sat on the only available piece of furniture in the entire apartment: a bare mattress thrown onto the living room floor by Korra despite the movers offering to bring it up, as they were contracted to do.

Korra heavily dropped onto the mattress on her back and Asami joined her, lying across the mattress sideways and looking longingly at Korra.

Their eyes met. Korra heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure if Asami knew just how beautiful and alluring she was. Everything she did was unintentionally - or maybe in some cases somewhat intentionally - seductive.

 “So, ah- what should we do while we wait? We don’t even have a radio hooked up yet…” Korra noticed how the silky fabric of Asami's nightgown hugged her curves. She tried to control where and for how long her eyes wavered over Asami’s body.  

 “I don’t even know where my pai sho set is in all these boxes,” Asami said sitting up and looking around. 

They were surrounded by boxes and luggage, most of them belonging to Asami. Korra always knew that Asami had a lot of stuff, but this move made her realize that even more. It took Korra one trip to carry all her own possessions into the apartment from the moving truck. She lost count how long it took to get Asami's assortment of beauty supplies, clothes, gadgets, tools, paperwork, and other things upstairs.

 Asami then stretched over and across Korra’s body to look in an open box near her. Korra’s breath caught in her throat as she shamelessly studied Asami’s figure reaching over her.

Asami rummaged in the box for longer than necessary. At that point they both knew the pai sho set was not in that particular box. 

Korra noticed Asami’s cheeks were a bit red now. Her breath quickened. Make your move now, Avatar! Korra thought to herself.

Before Korra could act, Asami finally stopped looking through the box and turned to Korra, “It’s uh-it’s not there.” Her whole body flush and warm, and her eyes expectant.

Without any thought and without any hesitation, Korra sat up and hungrily kissed Asami.

[sareyen]

Das Haus am See: The Lake House Cherik AU (Part 1/3)

Read on ao3

A Lake House Cherik AU: Charles and Erik both lived in the lake house, Charles in 2017, and Erik in 2019. By magic or fate, the two find out that the house’s letter box is able to send letters through time - and, in doing so, the two fall in love despite living in two different years. They vow to meet in the future, but fate is fickle, and time waits for no one.

Chapter 1

Erik grunted as he hauled the last of his boxes into the back of his car, cursing under his breath when the boot struggled to close. After some rearranging, Erik managed to fit all of his belongings into the back, grateful that he had never been the type to hoard.

Pulling out a pen and paper, Erik leaned on the boot of his car, quickly scrawling a concise note to the future tenant of the lakeside house overlooking Chautauqua Lake. 

To the new tenant,

Welcome. As the previous tenant, I hope that you find everything to be in working order. I’ve filed my change of address with the post office, but their services are unreliable at best. If anything slips through, could you please forward my mail? My new address is below.

Thank you.

Also, the burn in the wall above the kitchen stove was there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. You can do whatever you want with that.

E. Lehnsherr.

Erik quickly folded the paper and shoved it into an envelope, licking the seal and sliding it into the slightly rusted red letterbox at the front of the house, flicking down the red flag on the box.

Erik took a moment to appreciate the house he has lived in for the past year and a half, corner of his mouth lifting. Erik took in the rustic red brick house with its blue-tiled roof, the white trimmed windows and flourishing green front lawn.

Early in the afternoon, the house was cast in a warm golden glow, light reflecting off the lake water in the distance. The house looked warm and lived in, a far cry from how it had looked when Erik had first moved in; barren, with wilting plants in pots hanging on the porch, grass yellowing, dust collecting on every antique piece of furniture inside it.

When Erik had first moved in, the lake house had been cold and barren, much like Erik himself. Erik had moved into the house a year and a half ago after everything with Magda had crumbled to pieces, the multiple miscarriages taking their toll and culminating in a messy divorce. Erik had felt dead inside, moving out of the suffocating city and taking temporary leave from his job as an estate planning lawyer to take some time to gather himself in solitude.

Erik had not thought that he would become so attached to the lake house, which was almost 7 hours by road from the hustle and bustle of NYC. Living alone in tranquillity had made Erik remember his childhood in Germany with his parents, of happier and calmer times. The house had helped him heal, and even though memories of Magda still made his heart ache a little, Erik had learned to shoulder it.

Erik gazed at the house fondly for a moment longer, before turning around to his car packed full of his meagre things, ready to make the trip back to the city and the real world, leaving this little slice of serenity behind.

***

Charles pulled up to his holiday home on the Chautauqua lakefront in his car (or “Rust Bucket” as his dear sister, Raven, endearingly called it). It was beyond Raven’s comprehension as to why Charles, a successful novelist, didn’t go and by himself a new car when he could obviously afford it.

In the end, Charles was sentimental, and clung to things longer than he should. That probably stemmed from the fact that, as a child, he hadn’t had much to hold onto, very little to hold dear. His father had died when he was young, and his step-father was controlling and over-bearing, leaving Charles little in the way of worldly possessions.

But, Charles had been given the gift of heart and wit, and with that, he had built a career in prose. Inspired by his difficult childhood, Charles had created a book series about disenfranchised outcasts with special powers – outcasts that were as extraordinary as they were feared, beautiful but distrusted. Charles wrote about outcasts who could stand up for themselves, to cement their place in the world despite being beaten down at every corner, who would persevere even in the darkest of times.

The series spoke to anyone who had been alienated, who had been mocked for being different. It had become a platform on social commentary, on racism and homophobia, on class struggle and the inequalities that run rampant in the world.

The final book in the “X” tetralogy had been published only recently, and Charles’s fans were eager to find out if the New York Times best-selling author Francis Graymalkin was writing anything new.

Unfortunately, Charles had fallen into a writing slump – after concluding the X series, Charles found himself lost. The X series had consumed his life for the past decade, and now that it was finished, Charles did not know what to do. He had half-formed ideas rattling around in his head, but none that really inspired him.

It had been Raven’s idea to go and do some ‘soul-searching’, as she called it. Charles assumed she had gotten the idea from her current partner, a star-sign-abiding hippie who claimed that she could see the future. Apparently, Charles getting out of NYC would do him some good, and Charles had been inclined to agree – a change in scenery may be what he needed to find his writing inspiration again, and if not, he could at least get a holiday out of it.

It had been after Charles’s first ‘X’ novel had reached critical acclaim that he bought the lakeside house. He hadn’t really understood what had drawn him to it so much, but something in his mind screamed at him to buy it. It had been a charming house, two-storeys and made of red brick. It was a somewhat old house too, but looked well-loved and charmingly worn. Charles, who lived in well-loved and charmingly worn cardigans and enjoyed nothing more than curling up in a blanket with a cup of warm tea had been smitten by the quant property immediately.

Charles didn’t know how long he would live in this lakeside house for, since he didn’t know how long it would take him to complete a new novel. Getting out of his car, Charles didn’t begin unpacking just yet. It had been years since he’d been to the property and he had hired someone to maintain it, but he wanted to look at it for himself.

Charles unlocked the door and took a turn about the spacious house; warm wooden interior, large bay windows that overlooked the lake, antique furniture that looked both mismatched and fitting in the same breath. Charles smiled to himself, running his finger along a dark marble countertop in the kitchen, before opening the large doors to the back veranda by the lake.

“Home sweet home,” Charles murmured to nobody but himself and the lake, which rippled in response as a gust of wind brushed across it. Charles breathed in and out, before walking back to the front of the house.

It was then that he noticed the letterbox’s flag was tilted down, and Charles blinked curiously – no one had lived in the lake house ever since Charles bought it nine years ago, and he knew that the caretakers wouldn’t be sending mail out from his address.

Charles opened the letterbox then, and inside was a single letter in crisp white paper that looked too fresh to have been sitting there for a long time. Holding the letter in his hands, neat and heavy-handed lettering with ‘To the resident’ on the front, Charles glanced around.

He was alone, the secluded house still and quiet.

Charles walked plonked himself down some low stone walling lining the outside of the house, ripping open the letter with his finger.

“Previous tenant?” Charles read aloud, frowning. Unless this letter was from someone living there a decade ago, it had to be a prank, or a mistake. Charles read on, raising a brow about the kitchen burn marks and the box in the attic. When Charles had walked around the house moments earlier, he hadn’t noticed anything amiss in the kitchen, curiosity beginning to bubble in his stomach.

Jumping up with vigour, Charles clutched the letter tightly as he headed directly to the kitchen, inspecting the wall that was supposed to be singed. Charles inspected his kitchen carefully, but there were no burn marks to be seen anywhere.

“A prank?” Charles mused to himself, looking back at the letter. “Box in the attic?”

Charles checked there too, but all he found there were cobwebs and dust, making him sneeze. Climbing back down from the attic, Charles chuckled at his fanciful beliefs. This E. Lehnsherr was either a jokester, or awfully confused.

Charles quickly threw the letter onto the kitchen table, not thinking too much about it, too busy moving his things in and unpacking the rest when the movers came – he always had a lot of things, never being able to let the things he treasured go.

***

It was a two weeks later that it happened.

Charles had never had the most skill in the kitchen, a simple stir-fry the extent of his culinary expertise. Today, he had been particularly scatterbrained, frustrated by his lack of creativity and being stuck writing the same three paragraphs over and over, not feeling inspired in the slightest. To top it off, Charles hadn’t slept particularly well – the nightmares of his childhood had tempered with age, but every now and then, they would make his nights hell.

Half asleep and dazed, Charles had taken his eye off his saucepan, the flames catching on some of his food and bursting upwards in a roaring flame. Charles squeaked, quickly turning off the burner and tugging the saucepan off the heat, singing his finger in the process. Charles hissed, jamming his finger under cold water as the flames died down.

Looking glumly at his smoky-borderline-charcoal dinner, Charles suddenly realised that the wall was burned.

‘Also, the burn in the wall above the kitchen stove was there when I moved in, as was the box in the attic. You can do whatever you want with that.’

“Impossible,” Charles whispered to himself, hastily turning off the tap, charred dinner forgotten. Charles stumbled over to his kitchen table that had become covered with paper, books and empty tea-cups, rummaging around for the letter he had haphazardly thrown there weeks ago. Under a water bill and his worn copy of Jane Eyre, Charles found the letter from E. Lehnsherr.

Coincidence?

Or fate?

Raven’s hippie girlfriend would definitely say fate, that it was written in the stars or in her tea leaves.

Whether it was mere coincidence or true, divine fate, Charles deemed that he should at least respond to the letter, considering E. Lehnsherr had left his new address. Scrounging up a pen from a pocket in his cardigan and ripping out some paper from the leather-bound notebook he always carried around, Charles wrote back.

January 21st, 2017

Dear Mr/Ms Lehnsherr,

I received your letter, but I believe there has been some sort of misunderstanding. I purchased this lake house nine years ago and have never rented it out in that time, leaving it empty for all of these years. Perhaps your letter was meant for the Sandburg cottage down the shore, since that, to my knowledge, has been unoccupied for years.

More importantly, I am curious about the supposed burn marks in the kitchen, for when I moved in the wall was pristine. Just moments ago, however, I was attempting to make a chicken stir-fry and singed the wall above the stove, just as your letter had said. How could you know about that, when it only just happened?

Kindest regards,

C. F. Xavier

Charles smiled at the letter, before carefully folding it up and sliding it into an envelope, placing it back into the letterbox and flicking the flag down.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to write. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he would write about, but it would stem from a mysterious letter from a man that seemed to know about things before they happened.

***

“Getting back into the swing of things, Sugar?” Emma asked as she slid into the chair opposite Erik in the breakroom, nursing an expensive cappuccino from the luxurious company coffee machine. Erik fiddled with his own plain black coffee, snorting.

“Estate law isn’t rocket science, Emma,” Erik said offhandedly, Emma chuckling as she flicked her long blonde hair off her shoulder, smoothing her crisp white silk blouse.

“Yes, but you’ve been out of action for almost two years. It would be normal to be a little rusty,” Emma replied, Erik shrugging. “And with your own experience, sometimes estate planning law can be… emotional.”

Erik gave Emma a warning glance, his co-worker encroaching on dangerous territory. Emma just smiled at him coolly, unfazed by his cutting gaze. Even though Erik was notoriously private and solitary by nature, people knew about his troubled marriage and the reason for his brief leave from work. Though Erik was no divorce lawyer, managing wills and estates after someone’s death had hit a bit too close to home, and even now, people walked around him on eggshells.

“It’s fine, Emma,” Erik responded, the woman humming as she sipped on her cappuccino. “It’s just numbers and law, nothing more.”

“Hm, heartless as always, Sugar,” Emma chuckled, getting up and patting Erik’s shoulder. “Seems like you have gone back to your usual self after your little retreat. Congratulations.”

Erik rolled his eyes, not feeling like he should be congratulated at all. He had always been somewhat emotionally detached – not emotionless, because Erik felt. Has felt. He loved Magda, greatly, and he had hurt when he lost her. He had also known hurt after all of their miscarriages, after the deaths of his parents. Erik, at this point, was used to loss.

That’s why estate planning law was, at times, hard – dealing with the affairs of those recently deceased and looking into the eyes of their mourning relatives, Erik could relate. After losing Magda, Erik had needed a break, to rebuild the walls around his heart.

And he had rebuilt them, or so he thought.

When Erik returned to his office after his break, he found his boss, Sebastian Shaw, waiting for him.

“Ah, Lehnsherr, there you are,” Shaw said, thin lips pulling back in a grin. Erik was not overly fond of his boss, who was too cut-throat at times, but that made him damn good lawyer. It was from him that Erik learnt to push clients and their opposition to get the most that they could, but a part of Erik could never quite meet Shaw’s callousness.

“What is it?” Erik asked, voice clipped. Shaw just grinned at Erik’s brusque tone, eyeing his best lawyer carefully.

“I know it’s only been a short time since you’ve been back working with us, but you were always my best. Our services have been requested to manage to estate of a high-profile client,” Shaw said, Erik’s eyes narrowing.

“If you’re coming to me with this, it must be a big client,” Erik said carefully, Shaw chuckling.

“Quick, as always. Yes, it is a big client. Do you know the author, Francis Graymalkin?”

“Author of the X tetralogy?” Erik asked slowly, heart thundering. Shaw nodded, and Erik frowned, heart squeezing. “He died around two years ago, though.”

Erik was a huge fan of Francis Graymalkin’s work, having read the first novel in the famous X series, ‘First Class’, just after it had been released. At that point, the book hadn’t gained the traction and fame it was now renowned for, but it had spoken to Erik deeply. Francis Graymalkin’s words were full of soul, witty at times, startlingly emotional at others. Through Francis Graymalkin’s words, Erik could feel his character’s pain and their elation, and though the political and social commentary was oftentimes naïve and pacifistic, Francis Graymalkin always made sure to touch on all sides of an argument. While he clearly lauded the integrationist perspective in his novels, he did not discount the separatist standpoint that one of his characters, Magneto, championed.

Francis Graymalkin’s work helped Erik through the pain of his mother’s death, which occurred a few months before the release of the second novel, which saw the characters persevering through a dismal future even when all hope seemed lost. The fourth book was what helped Erik get through the mess with Magda – ‘Phoenix’ touched on the loss of a character that the protagonist considered a daughter and the ramifications of that. The book ended on a note of hope, which Erik clung to.

Francis Graymalkin was notoriously private, not showing his face once, though he had penned numerous interviews over the years. Erik read every one of them, finding the man intriguing, sometimes snorting at his political views that so often contradicted Erik’s own but were so thoughtfully explained that Erik couldn’t discredit them at all. Even though Erik had never met Francis Graymalkin, nor had he ever seen the man’s face, the author had done more for Erik than anyone else before.

Erik had heard that the author had begun writing a new novel, and that he had been in the final stages of completing it before he died. Erik had been eager to read it, even if Francis Graymalkin said that it was vastly different from his previous work – a romance novel, of sorts, apparently. Sadly, reading it was now a dream that would be left unfulfilled, because Francis Graymalkin was dead, his story left unfinished.

“Yes, from memory it was a car accident two years ago. I think this it’ll be two years to the day in a month,” Shaw said, sounding cold and detached. Erik swallowed thickly, angry that the life of someone so inspirational had been snuffed out just like that by a simple hunk of moving metal. “Some new things have come to light in the man’s will. To put it short, a family squabble has erupted, and the man’s sister has hired our services. Since this is a high-profile case involving millions, I need you to take over the cases I’m currently working. I’m going to need to pour all of my effort into the Graymalkin estate proceedings.”

Erik wasn’t surprised that Shaw was hogging the Graymalkin estate, because Erik would’ve done the same if he were in Shaw’s shoes, though for entirely different reasons. Shaw liked high-profile, lucrative work, but Erik just wanted to see the affairs of one of his favourite authors realised as he willed it.

But, Shaw was his boss, and he had no reason to contest the man’s plan, not when his argument solely hinged on being a fan of Francis Graymalkin’s novels.

“Fine,” was all Erik said, Shaw clapping his hands together once, satisfied.

“Excellent! I’ll send you the details of the estates I’m settling after my meeting with Francis Graymalkin’s sister,” Shaw said, leaving Erik’s office with little else.

Erik sighed, suddenly feeling a lot more drained, and counted down the hours until he could go home. Erik suddenly felt the urge to just curl up in bed and read one of Francis Graymalkin’s novels. Remember the man’s death struck something in the German man, and it was almost funny how Erik immediately sought comfort in the dead man’s own books.

***

When Erik went home, he realised that his copies of Francis Graymalkin’s books were nowhere to be found. They weren’t in any of the half-unpacked boxes he had pushed against the walls of his newly built apartment, they weren’t in his bookshelf stacked with law tomes and other novels, and they weren’t anywhere in his car.

“Shit,” Erik muttered, shower-damp hair dripping down the back of his bare neck as he padded around his apartment, the smell of fresh paint still making his head spin a little despite airing out the room the day he moved in.

If the books weren’t here in his new apartment, they had to be at the lake house. Considering Erik drove straight from there to his new abode in NYC, that was the only logical option.

So, it was on that weekend, that Erik made the seven-hour (or six, at the speed Erik drove), trip back to the Chautauqua lake house.

Erik could have easily bought the series anew at a bookstore, but something about that idea irked him – his copies were well-read, dog-eared in spots, coffee stains dropped on some pages. The spines of the paperbacks were worn, and the covers faded, but they were familiar under the pads of Erik’s fingers, and reminded him of hours spent reading and coming alive through Francis Graymalkin’s words.

Erik wasn’t often sentimental, but Francis Graymalkin tended to stir up unfamiliar feelings in Erik’s soul.

Erik had contacted the real estate agency managing the property, who temporarily returned his keys to let him gather his final things – since Erik left a few weeks ago, only the young lady that apparently owned it had come here, but that things were in contention since there was some sort of dispute regarding the property’s true owner. Erik didn’t inquire too much about it, wanting to gather his books and make the drive home, not keen to spend more than a day on the road.

Erik found the box he had missed behind the couch, which had since been covered up with white cloth. The house seemed duller and emptier without inhabitants, and for some reason, it felt like the building was holding its breath. Waiting.

For what, Erik didn’t quite know.

Erik gave the house a silent farewell for a second time, loading the single box of books into his backseat. As he was getting into the car, Erik noticed the letter box’s flag was up, signifying that mail had been delivered. Considering Erik was the house’s last tenant, he cursed the post office’s shoddy work at listening to his change of address notice, getting back out of his car and trudging over to the metal contraption.

Opening it, Erik found a few bills that had slipped through his change of address notice, and some junk mail that he swiftly ignored. Erik was about to close the letterbox when he noticed a letter beneath a flyer for a local pizza shop – it was not the letter Erik had left there two weeks ago, and strangely, it was addressed to him.

‘To E. Lehnsherr,�� was printed on the front in elegant cursive, and Erik picked it up.

“What the hell?” Erik muttered, tucking his bills under his arm and ripping open the letter, grey eyes running from side to side as he read it, brow creasing. Then, Erik scoffed. Though its author was eloquent and polite, they seemed to be confused – an older individual, with dementia, perhaps. The letter was dated February 9th, 2017 – but, as Erik checked again, it was currently Saturday the 9th of February, 2019.

To be stuck two years in the past, this C. F. Xavier was either an idiot, or a poor, lost soul.

Even more ridiculous was the fact that this person (whom Erik assumed to be the lake house’s contentious female owner the real estate agent had mentioned visiting) thought that no one lived here, when Erik had literally moved out two weeks ago. C. F. Xavier must be confused, and Erik felt that he needed to correct the person, or at least give them a healthy dose of reality.

Erik walked back to his car, opening the box of books in his backseat to find some paper to write on. Erik found an old notebook, ripping out an empty back page before scribbling down a response to C. F. Xavier.

February 9th, 2019

Dear Ms Xavier,

I am familiar with the cottage that you mentioned, and I assure you that I did not mistake my own address. Unfortunately, you seem to be confused – I’ve lived at this lake house for almost two years, and have since moved to ---, NYC. It would be great if you could forward my mail to this address if you receive any.

And, by the way, it’s 2019. It has been all year – ask anyone.

Erik

Erik may have been a little aggressive by underlining 2019 so heavily, but he didn’t care too much, folding the letter inside the empty letterbox and flicking down the flag.

Walking back to his car, Erik suddenly heard the squeak of metal behind him, turning with a slightly startled jump.

The letter box’s flag was up.

Erik’s eyes darted around his surroundings, trying to look for the prankster, but it was quiet.

Then, the flag jerked itself down without a hand touching it.

Erik’s heart hammered, his long legs surging forward and his hands ripping open the letter box. The folded letter he had just placed in there had disappeared, and something else had replaced it. It was from the same paper C. F. Xavier’s initial note had been written on, and on it was the same refined cursive scrawl.

He had just received a reply from C. F. Xavier, a C. F. Xavier who was nowhere to be seen.

***

Charles almost screamed when he saw the flag move itself, blue eyes staring at the metal letterbox with a mixture of fear and rapture. Charles nibbled on the end of his pen, unblinking, waiting for the phantom to move the letterbox again.

“Come on, my friend…” Charles goaded the lake house phantom, gasping when, after a long, laborious length of time, the flag shoved itself down. “Good God.”

Charles opened the letterbox, and found that the paper he had placed face down only about five minutes ago was now face up, with E. Lehnsherr’s – Erik’s – distinct scrawl beneath Charles’s own lettering. Charles couldn’t help but laugh, breathless and giddy, reading the mysterious letter with excitement.

February 4th, 2017

Dear Erik,

My friend, I’m not sure about you, but it is the year 2017 where I am. You told me to ask anyone, and I did – I texted my sister and my friends, and they all assure me that it is indeed 2017.

While our incongruous dates are confounding, I am more intrigued as to how you are responding to me. I am not well-versed in practical jokes or magic, so may I ask, how are you doing this?

Yours,

Charles

P.S. I’m not sure what lead you to believe that I am Ms. Xavier, but I am usually addressed as Mr. Xavier. However, please just address me as Charles.

Charles,

I am as confused as you are – if anyone is the magician, it’s you. I’ve been watching this letterbox, and no one has touched it.

Erik

P.S. The real estate agent said that this property was owned by a woman. I didn’t mean to offend you, nor assume your gender.

Charles blinked, swallowing deeply. This was…

Amazing.

Charles sucked in a breath, planting himself on the grass in front of the letterbox, ripping a new piece of paper from his notebook and writing with fervour.

Erik,

Don’t worry, you did not offend me in the slightest, and even if you did, I’m rather pre-occupied worrying about the fact that we can even have this conversation.

My mind is fanciful by nature, and I can think of a few different scenarios that read like fiction – but, with what is happening, fiction seems to be our new reality. Since you are adamant that you are living in 2019, and I am even more sure that it is currently 2017, I’d wager that this letterbox is some sort of time-travelling device.

Either that, or I am going insane. Please tell me that I am not alone in my insanity, my friend.

Charles

Charles placed the letter in the letterbox, flicked the flag, and waited.

He did not have to wait long for a response.

***

Charles,

It seems that you aren’t alone in your insanity. But, I think I am more insane for thinking that your illogical logic is… logical. In case you are still in disbelief, I have a coin minted in 2018 – not 2019, but futuristic enough.

Erik

Erik grinned down at his response, pulling out a 2018 dime from his pocket and placing it atop the letter. Erik willed in his heart for the coin to be sent through smoothly, not sure about the limitations of this time-travelling device in the shape of a letter box. Erik waited for Charles’s response eagerly.

He, too, did not wait long.

*** 

Erik,

A dime from the future – how much do you think it would go for on the market? Some coin collectors can be positively rabid.

I joke, though. Erik, this is amazing. Whatever physics are at work here, I can’t even begin to explain it – I may have a degree in biophysics, amongst other things, but my knowledge on time travel tells me that the very concept is a myth. Science fiction. I’m not sure what I could send you to prove that I am indeed from the past, but it seems like you believe me thus far.

Here is a biscuit that’s expiring soon – in March 2017, to be precise. So, about a month from now (my time).

Charles

Before sending the letter, Charles had pat himself down, trying to think of something to give Erik but coming up empty – everything Charles had could be easily procured in the future. Still, Charles felt like he should send Erik something – in the end, he placed a plastic-wrapped biscuit alongside his letter, flicking down the flag as he held Erik’s 2018-minted dime in his palm, the metal warm.

*** 

Charles,

I’m sure you would be called a fraud if you tried to sell a dime from the future. Frankly, I think I would be the only person who would believe you.

And Charles, in your opinion, would the biscuit be safe to consume? Technically, two years haven’t passed in the biscuit’s lifetime.

Erik

***

Erik,

If I met you now, you wouldn’t believe me any way – because, for you, this conversation hasn’t even happened yet.

And that is marvellous to think about, isn’t it? Positively groovy. Also, please try the biscuit – if you become ill, let me know.

Charles

Erik let out a choked laugh, eyeing the biscuit he had left sitting atop the letter box. The thought that Charles had procured it and thoughtfully given it to Erik made something churn in the German’s belly. Whether that was a side effect of the strange warmth spreading in his chest or because his stomach pre-empted the food poisoning the expired-but-unexpired biscuit would give him, Erik couldn’t tell.

Still, Erik opened the plastic packaging, swallowing down the biscuit in two bites.

It was sweet.

***

Groovy? Really, Charles? How old are you?

I had pegged you for a senile old man at first, since you seemed to be stuck two years in the past – I think you just confirmed my suspicions.

(And the biscuit was delicious.)

***

Charles snorted at Erik’s response, not feeling offended but elated instead – Charles’s heart was thumping wildly, lurching ever time the letter box would rattle. Charles couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as he hastily penned a reply to his new friend.

A senile old man? You wound me, Erik!

And I’m 31. So, in your time, I would be 33. But, since you’ve made fun of me for my age, how old are you then? Twelve?

***

Almost. Triple it.

***

You’re 36 in 2019, then? So, you’d be a youthful 34-year-old right now.

***

Congratulations, Charles. You can do math.

Erik chuckled to himself, licking his lips as he sent the snarky and teasing response.

How long had it been, since Erik could speak with someone so easily? So naturally?

It had been a long time – maybe ever since Magda?

Or maybe even before that?

*** 

This infantile mocking is why I thought you were 12, Erik. But I do apologise – I shouldn’t make fun of my elders.

Charles wasn’t sure if he was teasing or flirting now – maybe a mixture of both. But, God, talking to Erik lit something inside Charles that had been dormant for a long time.

***

Who’s the child now? Are you sure you’re not in elementary school still, Charles?

*** 

I graduated from high-school when I was 16, actually. So, no, I am far from being in elementary school, my friend. Unfortunate, because I think we could have become great friends in the playground, considering we are both apparently 12-years-old.

***

I have no doubt about that, Charles.

But, you mentioned that you have a degree in biophysics?

***

Well, a PhD in biophysics, to be precise.

Erik’s eyebrows went up when he read Charles’s response. The man had sounded educated in his responses, but this was impressive. Charles was an intellectual, and that was something Erik appreciated. Still, he felt the need to tease the (slightly) younger man.

***

Are you bragging?

*** 

No, my friend. If I were bragging, I’d tell you about my other PhDs in genetics, anthropology and psychology. Oh, and my meagre Bachelor’s degree in English.

Erik choked when he read Charles’s reply, grey eyes bulging. Gott, Charles was a genius. Was he even real?

Time travelling was one thing, but someone like Charles Xavier – funny, intelligent, cheeky Charles Xavier – existing?

Erik could hardly believe it.

*** 

So, you’re a 12-year-old child genius then?

***

You’re the one who said it, my friend. Not me.

What about you? What did 12-year-old you grow up to become?

Charles wanted to know more about this man who lived in the future – sure, Charles was curious about other things about the future unknown to him, like world events, new technologies, political intrigue – but more than that, he wanted to know about the man who lived in it.

A man that, in what was a handful of minutes that spanned two years, Charles felt bound to.

Raven’s girlfriend was, maybe, right about something.

***

A lawyer, specialising in estate planning law. No PhDs here, so I have nothing to brag about.

*** 

You’re selling yourself short, Erik. I’d wager that it isn’t easy becoming a lawyer, having to pass the bar amongst other things. Not to mention the fact that your job involves professional arguing – I enjoy a good debate myself, but I could never become a lawyer.

Erik smiled at that. He could feel that Charles’s words were genuine and spoken from the heart. There was something about the way he wrote that made it seem like he bore his heart on the page, something that Erik had always struggled with.

But, talking to Charles like this, Erik felt lighter.

*** 

And I could never complete 4 PhDs. Oh, and a bachelors in writing – how could I forget?

***

Why do I feel like you’re mocking me again, my friend?

***

Because I am.

***

Hmph – that’s the noise I made just then. It’s a shame that you can’t hear it in person.

And God, Charles wanted to hear Erik’s voice. To speak with him – but sadly, he was two years too early.

*** 

What if I could?

Erik’s heart hammered – Gott, he wanted to hear Charles’s voice. He wondered if Charles’s voice would match his gentle, elegant cursive. If it did, he imagined Charles to be soft-spoken, maybe with a posh accent. For some reason that seemed to match Charles’s written voice well. But, from what Erik could tell, Charles had a mischievous streak – the man was surprising, in every way.

***

What do you mean?

***

What if I called you, in my time?

Charles almost dropped his pen when he read Erik’s words, eyes widening to blue saucers.

*** 

You mean, in the future?

*** 

That’s another way of saying it.

***

Very well, I’ll bite. Here’s my number: XX XXXX XXXX

Call me.

Erik found himself breathless all of a sudden, staring at the string of numbers.

Charles’s number.

Erik hadn’t felt like this since he was actually 12-years-old.

*** 

Is this how you give people your number in bars, Charles?

“Are you flirting with me, Erik?” Charles asked himself incredulously, though his cheeks coloured.

‘God, I hope you’re flirting with me, my friend.’

*** 

No, usually I just skip that step and take them home.

But enough stalling, Erik – have you called future me yet?

Erik couldn’t help the surprised laugh that erupted from his throat. Charles, Charles, Charles.

*** 

Not yet – Charles, I will call you at precisely 3:05pm on Monday, the 9th of February 2019. Which, for me, is a minute from now.

“I’ll be waiting,” Charles vowed to no one but himself, wondering where he would be in two years, waiting for Erik to call. Would he be back home in NYC, tucked away in his office? Or would he be at his publisher’s, excusing himself from a meeting with his editor, Moira MacTaggert, to answer Erik’s impending call in private?

Or, maybe, Charles would have tried to surprise Erik. Charles could surprise him by showing up at the lake house, since he knew that Erik was there, right now.

Why hadn’t Charles done that already?

***

Alright. I’ll be waiting for your call, Erik.

Erik’s hands were shaking as he dialled Charles’s number, double and triple checking to make sure the digits were correct.

He pressed call.

The phone rang for a few beats, and then a few more, and then for many, many more. Eventually, the robotic female voice told Erik that Charles did not pick up, and Erik’s heart fell, disappointment flooding him over a man two years away.

Erik didn’t know what to do, and ten minutes passed – there hadn’t been this much of a lag between their sent letters, and Erik was surprised when the letter box flag jerked up and then down.

Erik hastily checked it, pocketing his phone once again. 

Have you called future me yet, my friend?

***

I did – you didn’t pick up, you asshole.

Charles frowned. He hadn’t picked up? Why hadn’t he picked up?

Future Charles, you idiot.

***

Well. I’m disappointed in future me. Something must have held me up. I do apologise, my friend. Please believe me when I say that I want nothing more than to answer your call.

Gosh, I’m making excuses for a me that doesn’t exist yet.

But, please, Erik – trust me when I say that I am very sorry.

***

Erik sighed, reading Charles’s message over and over. He did seem awfully apologetic, and maybe he was right – even though this was now for Erik, for Charles it was two years in the future. Many things could’ve changed for the man in that time. He could have simply forgotten, he may have moved countries and changed time zones, or maybe, knowing Charles, he overworked himself getting a 5th PhD and was passed out over his desk.

Erik noticed that the sky was beginning to glow orange, sunset approaching, cursing under his breath. If he didn’t start driving home now, it would be well past midnight by the time he got back to his apartment.

No apologies needed, Charles. Two years is a long time, and I’m sure you were just busy – working on your 5th PhD, perhaps?

And, sadly, I have to leave now – I was only here to pick up some books that I had left behind. I’ve got to drive back to NYC now.

***

Charles read Erik’s letter, frowning. Was this it, then?

Charles didn’t want this to be it. 

Oh, that’s sad news, my friend – this conversation with you, no matter how brief, has meant more to me than you know. I’m not sure what magic is at work here, but I will be here in a week’s time. I would very much like to speak to you again, Erik, if you wanted.

Charles waited with bated breath, hands pressed together tightly as he eyed the letter box flag.

Up.

Down.

Charles opened the letter box, surprised to find Erik’s letter wedged between the pages of a worn book – The Once and Future King.

I’d also like to speak with you again – this… means a lot to me, too. I hate to leave so soon, but I’ll give you this to help pass the time before I can return. It’s my favourite novel – considering you have a bachelors in English, you may have already read it, but still.

Until next week, Charles.

Charles laughed, fingering the pages of the book before dropping his forehead to its cover, breathing in the smell of old pages and something like cologne.

Erik’s cologne.

“I’ll be waiting, my friend,” Charles whispered, getting up and walking back into the lake house, not waiting a moment before going into the study and booting up his laptop, which was open to the novel he had begun working on when he had first received a reply from Erik.

“Days of Future Past – by Francis Graymalkin”.

Next chapter (2/3) → 

[spiral0city]

House of Horrors

I have internet now, so I’ve rejoined the 21st century. Sort of.

The move is complete. Everything, except four or five bags of clothes made it fine (not sure whose mistake that was, probably mine). The movers were great.

The house, though.

(1) Au du Elderly First thing that greeted me walking in the door was being smacked in the face with Old Lady Smell. It’s taken me three days of serious cleaning to get rid of it. To be fair, the old lady wasn’t like a hoarder or anything but that smell gives me the creeps.

(2) Wiring. No 3-prong plugs, probably hasn’t been updated since people sat around listening to Fireside Chats on their big old Philco Radio. I can’t run a microwave, toaster, vacuum cleaner or blow drier without the risk of blowing fuses. I came prepared with a bag full of a dozen 3-prong adapters, seven or eight power strips, and a ton of extension cords.

(3) Kitchen. There is no place to plug anything in. There’s a socket for the fridge and that’s it. There are no counter tops. There is a “pantry”, which is this weird offshoot of the kitchen with a lightbulb dangling on a chain and all these floor to ceiling cupboards and drawers. All the drawers stick, all the doors don’t quite close. I found mouse bait in there. Ewwwwww.

(4) Bath. I know how everybody loves claw-foot tubs, but I hate them. Especially ones that aren’t even full length. It’s kind of Japanese-bath like, but not in a good way. The shower is some jerry-rigged hose apparatus with a showerhead that when I stand in the shower, hits me at the neck. To wash my hair or face, I have to hunch over. The sink in there comes up to my mid-thigh and has separate hot and cold taps. I can’t find any particular use for it. Right now it’s being a large soap dish, because the tub has none.

(5) Oddities: The bedroom has a master-bedroom connecting door to the bath. It closes, but you have to be careful not to close it completely at night otherwise you’ll find yourself having a wrestling match with it while your bladder is red-lining. The principal door to the bedroom is a french door that also does not close. I have no idea why it’s a french door. Did people drop by at night to watch the former tenant sleep?

(6) Paint: I think when you get old your sense of color drops out because the office (alleged dining space between the LR and K) is painted what I call UTI Yellow. The bedroom is Safety Vest Orange. The other rooms are normal enough in a grandma sort of way: off-off-off white, something in the peach family, something in the gray-ish green family. All depressing and fugly.

(7) Pleasant surprises: A huge south-facing almost floor to ceiling bay window in the living room. I discovered the benefits of this yesterday. In the winter when it’s one of those frosty and brilliantly clear days, the sun pours in and it’s like sitting in a solarium. A walk-in closet in the bedroom. The cellar is vast. You can stand up down there and walk around. It’s dirty and dusty and old, but you could actually do things down there besides snatch some artifact from the Archives then scurry back upstairs before cockroaches the size of toasters kill you and feast on your flesh.

I feel weird being here. I keep thinking any minute somebody will pick up the remote, change the channel and I’ll be back in Brooklyn where i belong and life will be normal again.

[banshee-cheekbones]

standrew + sasha sloan - runaway (angsty af) ┰ω┰

hello friend, this is so delayed and I am so sorry!

anyways, four months to the day after I posted my last fic, I’m back, with a metric ton of angst and unresolved romantic tension! set in the days leading up to Steven’s move to New York! 

~4k, on ao3 here. the song that inspired this can be found here.

run away, runaway.

The Uber that picks Steven up at six o’clock in the morning smells like fresh leather and pine air freshener, like it rolled off the lot of a dealership only a few minutes ago. The inside is completely lacking in personality and customization. There are no trinkets on the dashboard, nothing dangling from the rear view mirror, nothing but NPR piping from the speakers.

Frankly, it’s almost strangely appropriate - a brand new car come to ferry him away to a brand new life.

The driver briefly greets him before pulling away from the curb and lapsing into silence, and Steven doesn’t try to pursue a conversation. For starters, it’s too early, and he’s too damn tired; he’d gotten maybe an hour of solid, decent sleep last night, even though he turned in around midnight. Most of his time in bed had been spent tossing and turning on his narrow couch, trying to find a spot that would send him off to sleep despite the racing of his mind and the way it had been desperately replaying every minute of the night’s events.

As the driver turns onto another street, one of a handful that will eventually lead to the interstate and then LAX and then New York City, the night starts unfurling again in the confines of his mind. He doesn’t bother trying to shove the recollection away, doesn’t try to distract himself with staring out the window at the passing scenery; it’s probably better that he get the replay over with now, so that he can get some sleep on the airplane and try to prepare himself for the hectic days and weeks to come.

So he closes his eyes, leans his head back against the firm leather of the seat, and lets last night (and the events that led up to it) wash over him in a wave composed of nothing less than pure and utter regret.

—

It’s Adam’s idea to have a farewell dinner.

He brings it up at lunchtime, a week before Steven’s official last day in the LA office, while they’re sitting at one of the picnic tables outside, sheltered from the sun by a massive umbrella and gorging themselves on food truck tacos. He says it so seriously that, for a moment, Steven can’t help but wonder if Adam has somehow misunderstood, that he’s gotten the impression that this is a permanent goodbye.

“You know I’ll be back here like, once a month, right?” he asks, wiping guacamole away from the corner of his mouth. “Probably more than that, actually.”

“I know,” Adam answers with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a fraction of a smile. “But still.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Andrew chimes in from Steven’s side. Despite the fact that each side of the table could easily fit three people (or four if they squeezed together), Andrew is pressed against his side, elbow to elbow and thigh to thigh, like they’re filming an episode of Worth It, warming Steven even more thoroughly than the sun. “Who knows when we’ll be able to hang out again? We’ll probably be too busy working on the show whenever you come back.”

“I’ll make time,” Steven replies, feeling a frown tugging at his mouth. The three of them had discussed the logistics of his move, how it would affect the show, in fair detail when he’d initially told them about it, but he can’t help but feel that he’s missing something here, that he’s maybe overestimated how well they took the news. However, going down that path seems like it could be a tangent that could drag them all down in the dumps, so instead, he plasters a smile onto his face and leans across the table to steal a piece of chicken that has fallen out of Adam’s taco. “But sure, we can do dinner. Where do you want to go?”

“You should pick,” Adam says, carefully pulling his taco back so that it’s out of Steven’s reach. “You pick, and we can make the rest of the arrangements.”

Even though it’s really not that big of a decision (especially when compared to the decision that precipitated it, the decision to move across the country on what is really a hunch and a feeling), it distracts Steven’s mind for the rest of the day. Every time he opens a tab on his laptop, intent on researching something or checking his email, he somehow finds himself looking up restaurants both new and old, places they’ve visited over the course of Worth It and places he’s had on his must try list for months. No matter how hard he tries to concentrate, it keeps happening, over and over again, and finally, when five o’clock comes around, he throws in the towel and dedicates himself fully to the task.

After half an hour purely devoted to research, he makes a decision.

He’s just grabbed his phone to text Adam and Andrew when the latter comes up the stairs from the lobby, burying a yawn into the crook of his elbow. His shirt is dotted with dark stains and dustings of flour, and his hair is a strange mixture of flattened and spiky. Per the usual, Steven’s heart skips a beat at the sight of him and, also per the usual, he forces himself to ignore that particular skip so that he can speak without fumbling every word from his mouth.

“Think Adam would be down with Le Petit Paris for dinner?”

“For next week?” A small smile forms on Andrew’s mouth as he drops down into his seat at the desk beside Steven’s. “Yeah, definitely. Good pick.”

It’s such a casual phrase, really means nothing in the grand scheme of things (frankly, Steven is pretty sure that he could pick most any restaurant in the city, and Andrew would think it was a good pick), but warmth still flickers in his cheeks and chest all the same.

“Thanks,” he replies, busying himself with packing up his laptop so that he doesn’t have to focus on trying to pull his gaze away from Andrew’s smiling face. “See you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early. Night, Steven.”

There’s always been something different about the way Andrew says his name, something that makes it so much more than an absent minded way to end a sentence. It’s almost feels considerate, somehow, coming from Andrew’s mouth, and Steven has to swallow heavily before he answers.

“Yeah. Night, Andrew.”

&.

The week seems to pass in the blink of an eye.

Every available moment is filled with something to do. When he isn’t at work, he’s at home, figuring out which of his possessions should go into storage for the time being and boxing up the rest, or he’s out with his friends or people from the office, soaking up every last bit of California sun, because he doesn’t know when he’ll be returning for more.

By the time Thursday morning comes around, his apartment looks like he’s just moved in. The only article of furniture still in one piece is the couch, which he’s been sleeping on for a few days. He spends the first half of the day keeping track of everything as movers load the carefully packed cardboard boxes and furniture into a truck, ready to take it across the country. When they drive away, his apartment is so empty that every sound he makes, every footstep and hum, echoes back at him.

Even though there’s probably some more cleaning he could do, the echoing starts to get at him, and he heads into work shortly after lunch, aiming to have a productive afternoon, to wrap up some stuff that will be easier to handle in person than from a few thousand miles away.

Instead, he spends the afternoon saying goodbye to what feels like seemingly everyone in the LA office. He picks up stakes a few times, moves to a different part of the compound so he can maybe have a better chance of focusing, but each time is to no avail. Someone, whether it be Jen or Kelsey or Garrett or Alix, always finds him.

At four thirty, he gives up. He isn’t going to get anything done, not now, and besides, their dinner reservations are in an hour; even if he didmanage to buckle down and focus, he’d get torn away again just as he was starting to hit a groove. So instead, he heads back upstairs to his desk to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, to make sure he hasn’t left behind a mess for whoever will be taking his place.

He hasn’t. It could use a quick wipe down, but other than that, he’s already managed to remove all traces from it. The little trinkets that have accumulated on it over the years are gone, removed one at a time over the past few weeks. The drawer underneath it is empty of any personal effects; there are a few pens and other supplies rolling around, but he decides to leave them there as a kind of housewarming gift for his replacement.

Compared to Andrew’s desk on his left, with its box full of plushies and the photographs carefully peeking out of books, it looks downright sterile. At the sight of it, Steven’s chest grows momentarily tight, and he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

He’s not going to let this be a problem. He’s spent years carefully keeping his emotions at bay, keeping his feelings for Andrew tucked away the best he can. On the few occasions that they’ve escaped, he’s always been able to come up with a reasonable excuse, always been able to explain them away as a bit for an episode or the result of one glass of wine too many.

As much as it aches to swallow them down now, he’ll be damned if he’s going to let them slip out on today of all days.

Leaving his desk behind, he heads across the compound until he reaches the studio where Eating Your Feed is filming. He can hear laughter leaking out through the door, and part of him wants to slip inside, wants to watch his friends having fun, wants to watch Andrew having fun. Part of him wants to simply memorize the smile that’s no doubt gracing Andrew’s face, wants to keep it close to his chest so that he’ll have it on the long nights between now and the next time he comes into town.

But, as nice of a memento that would be, it would also hurt, having that smile living in his mind but not being able to access the real thing, and while Steven may be many things, he’s not that much of a masochist.

So instead, he leans back against the wall opposite the studio and distracts himself with his phone while he waits for filming to finish up. Thankfully, he only has to wait about twenty minutes before the door opens, and Niki and Rie come out. He says yet another round of goodbyes to them, and they’re just heading down the corridor when Adam, Annie and Andrew come out as well.

“Ready for dinner?” Adam asks.

“Whenever you are. Do you guys wanna change first?” Adam and Annie shake their heads, but Andrew nods emphatically.

“Yeah, please. That room is way too hot.”

“That room is the perfect temperature,” Annie responds, deadpan. “You just sweat more than any human being should.”

Andrew shrugs. “You’re not wrong. Meet you guys out in the parking lot.”

Adam is the only one of them who drove in today (Steven sold his car last week, and Andrew’s is in the shop), so they wait by his car, leaning against the hood and talking about how the shoot had gone. The evening looks like it’s going to be a beautiful one; the sun has begun to slip towards the horizon, still providing illumination but with less of the heavy heat that’s been sitting low over the city for the last few weeks, and there’s not a cloud in the sky, no sign of any rain that might put a wash on the evening.

Really, he couldn’t have asked for a better last night.

But that’s before Andrew comes out of the building.

At the sight of him, the words Steven was planning on saying to Adam and Annie die in his throat. Andrew’s plain white t-shirt is gone, replaced with a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the cords of his forearms and the watch strapped around his wrist. It looks like he ran water through his hair as well; it’s slicked over to one side, flyaways tamped down for the time being, although Steven wouldn’t be surprised if they reappeared soon.

Simply put, even though there’s nothing particularly new or unique about the outfit, nothing out of the ordinary, Andrew looks amazing, and Steven suddenly feels like this is a horrible idea. He feels like he should come up with an excuse, any excuse, to get out of dinner, because this is going to be painful. This is going to hurt more than he’s prepared to deal with.

But it’s too late to back out. Andrew has already reached the car, and Adam has dug his keys from the depths of his pocket. If Steven were to flee now, he’d be hurting his friends, and he wants that like he wants a hole in the head.

So, with his heart heavy in his chest, he slides into the back beside Andrew, tries not to catch the scent of Andrew’s cologne (and fails), and attempts to portion off the part of his brain that has a thing for Andrew, that has had a thing for him pretty well from the first day they met.

&.

Remarkably, he manages to keep himself under control for almost the entirety of dinner.

They keep the conversation light, turned away from the real reason they’re there. They talk about work and movies and the amazing food in front of them, about Andrew’s new cat and Adam and Annie’s new apartment, but they do not talk about the move.

Nor do they talk about the fact that there’s something between Andrew and Steven, something hovering between them like an unseen fifth person, something that has Steven’s nerves pulled taut.

The tables at the restaurant are not unreasonably small, but somehow, Steven finds himself repeatedly brushing against Andrew. When they move to grab a piece of cutlery or their respective glasses of wine, their arms touch, and it feels like fire singing Steven’s skin. Even when they’re eating, Andrew’s knee keeps bumping against Steven’s.

But even more so than that, Steven can feel Andrew staring at him, almost from the very moment they sit down. Andrew’s gaze has always heavy, borderline overbearing, but Steven thought that he’d become accustomed to it, that he’d become adept at shaking the weight of it off like it was no more than a feather.

Apparently not.

It has to be obvious to Adam and Annie, but neither of them say a word or draw any attention to it. What they do do, however, is conveniently excuse themselves to the washroom once they’re finished up with their meals, leaving Steven with no way out and nothing to focus on.

Nothing but Andrew.

He knows that something is going to happen; it has to. Something has to happen, something has to pop the tension that’s coiling tight around his chest like a predatory snake, threatening to take every inch of breath he has. If something doesn’t happen, he’ll suffocate.

“I can’t believe it’s tomorrow,” Andrew says quietly. His knee is pressed against Steven’s again. Steven is looking at Andrew’s scraped clean plate, but in his peripheral vision, he can see Andrew tilting his head to look at him. He can feel Andrew’s gaze on him. “I thought…” Andrew pauses for a moment, and his fingers momentarily twitch on the clean white linen of the tablecloth. “I don’t know. I thought we were gonna have more time, you know?”

“Andrew…” Steven doesn’t intend on letting the word leave his mouth, but it exits all the same, hangs heavily in the air between them, as visible as a gaudy ornament on a Christmas tree. Now that it’s out in the open, he can feel himself tiptoeing towards the road he promised himself he wouldn’t go down, for both of their sakes.

But then again, would it really be so bad? Would it really be so bad if, underneath the warm-toned lighting of the restaurant, surrounded by the peaceful murmur of other patrons and faint string music, he simply confessed everything? If he finally told Andrew everything that’s been filling his mind, to some degree or another, for the past few years?

He could finally say I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. He could finally say, I think we could make a life together, or you make me feel safe, or you make me want to stay.

Or maybe he could simply look up from the table, catch Andrew’s unwavering eye, and finally kiss him, the way he’s dreamed about for literal years.

Would that be so bad?

The answer, of course, is yes.

Even though the words ache to spill from his lips, even though he is fairly certain that his feelings would be reciprocated, throwing all of that on Andrew now, the night before he leaves, feels like a special kind of disrespect. It feels completely and utterly selfish.

It feels cruel.

If there’s one thing Andrew doesn’t deserve, it’s cruelty.

“Yes?” Andrew says. His fingers have moved to Steven’s side of the table, and they’re curled into the thick fabric of the tablecloth. There’s a hopeful note in his voice, something that almost makes Steven reconsider, makes him say screw it and lean in anyways.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he mutters, “Never mind. I forget what I was going to say.” He flicks his eyes away from Andrew’s fingers and back to his own plate, where he spears a noodle and shoves it into his mouth.

Even though the sauce is exploding with flavor, decadent and creamy, he can barely taste it over the sour taste flooding through his mouth.

Adam and Annie return moments later, and after settling their bills, they step back out into the night. The evening has grown cool, and there’s a stiff breeze that makes a chill run down Steven’s spine, breaking through the uncomfortable warmth that’s been stifling him ever since his aborted confession.

“Want a lift home?” Adam asks once they’re outside. “Or to the airport tomorrow? I can come pick you up.”

Adam’s companionship would probably beat the hell out of an Uber driver, but Steven’s decision to shake his head is twofold: he doesn’t want to drag Adam out of bed that early, and he knows that if Adam comes, so will Andrew, and Steven isn’t sure he could deal with going through yet another goodbye.

If he has to do that, he thinks his willpower might finally snap.

“I’ll be fine,” he answers. “But I’ll let you all know when I land tomorrow, alright?”

“You better,” Annie responds, pulling him into a quick hug. Adam follows up, grabs him tight and thumps him on the back hard enough to make Steven cough with surprise. After he steps away, he glances over at Andrew.

“What about you, Drew? Want a lift home?”

“That’d be great, actually. Be there in a second.” While Adam and Annie drift over towards the car, Andrew comes to stand in front of Steven. There’s no escaping his eyes now, nowhere Steven can look that won’t make it painfully obvious that he’s avoiding eye contact. Steeling himself with a deep breath, he glances from Adam and Annie to Andrew.

The breath does almost nothing to prepare himself for the depth of emotion written in Andrew’s eyes, on his face. It’s not quite sadness; if anything, it might be closer to regret, tinged with a bit of weariness.

Steven is willing to bet that he’s probably wearing a similar expression.

Without warning, Andrew pulls him into a tight hug, and Steven’s walls temporarily fall down. He fully melts against Andrew, wraps his arms around his neck and hauls him in close, until he can feel Andrew’s broad chest expanding against his own. This close, he can smell Andrew’s cologne, along with a hint of wine from dinner, and he knows that smell is going to transfer onto his own clothes, that it might very well be the first thing he smells when he wakes up in the morning.

“You can always talk to me, you know,” Andrew murmurs. The words brush warmly against the side of Steven’s neck. “Doesn’t matter what time it is. I’ll always answer, Steven.”

“I know.” The words have to traverse a lump in Steven’s throat in order to leave his mouth. “I’ll reach out if I need anything. I promise.”

“Good.”

They stay like that for a few more moments, fully wrapped around each other, Steven’s mind empty of any thought that doesn’t directly relate to how wonderful Andrew feels pressed up against him. Eventually, Andrew’s grip slackens, and Steven loosens his own arms in anticipation of stepping away.

Andrew steps back first, and as he moves away, he turns his head and brushes his lips against Steven’s temple.

It’s too gentle to be much of a kiss, but gentle or not, Steven feels it as viscerally as a punch to the jaw, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from reeling backwards, from simply dropping to the ground.

“Have a safe flight,” Andrew says, cheeks faintly tinged pink. “I’ll see you soon?”

Steven can’t speak. All he can do is nod, so overwhelmed with the urge to lurch forward and kiss Andrew that it physically hurts to restrain himself. With a slight smile, Andrew turns and walks over to Adam’s car.

It’s only after he clambers inside that Steven starts breathing again. As soon as he takes in a deep breath, warmth starts pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he refocuses all his energy on keeping that warmth from spilling over.

He’s successful up until the moment he gets through his front door.

From that point on, there’s no stopping it.

+++

He can’t see the terminals yet, but LAX is still looming before him, present in the freeway signs overhead and the sight of planes taking off, disappearing into the sky.

He glances down at where his phone is resting in his lap. It’s still too early for Andrew to be up, but Steven can’t help but play with the idea of texting him, of saying something.

But what would he say? Everything that he wants to say is too long to be distilled down to a single text message, or even a string of them. He supposes that he could just say that he’s sorry, but that isn’t nearly enough. It’s not good enough. Not good enough for Andrew, who deserves nothing less than the entire world and all the joy in it.

Maybe one day, he’ll tell Andrew. Maybe one day, the spires of New York will no longer feel like home, and he’ll come back for good to the smog and sun of LA. Maybe he’ll come back, ready to spill everything, ready and willing to tell Andrew absolutely everything.

But maybe, by that point, Andrew won’t want to hear those words. Maybe he’ll have found someone else. Maybe he’ll have simply moved on, the distance between them, despite Steven’s occasional jaunts home, having killed off whatever exists between them. Maybe the distance will have killed or, at the very least, quieted everything that Steven is feeling right now.

With one last glance at the screen, Steven pockets his phone and sighs.

As painful as the thought may be, for the sake of both his own happiness and Andrew’s, he really, truly hopes that that ends up being the case.

[beautifulcontradiction26]

Willow Ave

Part 1

Jack looked out over his morning cup of coffee at the house across the street. The “For Sale” sign he had seen for ten months was finally gone, a moving truck was parked in the driveway and movers were carrying in various pieces of furniture, boxes and household items. He hadn’t seen the new owners, and he was curious as to who they would be.

Woodbury was a nice, clean, family oriented neighborhood, with large oak trees along the sidewalks and most homes had big front porches, bay windows and long driveways that ended with at least a two car garage. He wondered if they would be a young couple, or a family with some kids to play up and down the streets and in the big backyards.

Woodberry was a great place to raise a family. Having raised his in his home he had lived in for nineteen years, his youngest was just off to college this year, he loved this place.

After reflecting over his coffee and thinking about who will be making the house across the street their new home, Jack decided to get to work around the house. It was Saturday, a day Jack typically did things around the house and yard. A hot summer had just ended and it was nice to not be drenched in sweat as he did his yard work.

Wearing some athletic style pants and a t-shirt, Jack looked younger than his forty-three years. He kept himself in good shape and still had a nice head of hair, although it was now sprinkled with a little salt. After finishing mowing and trimming his large front yard, Jack was cutting some branches when he saw a car park across the street.

A young couple, probably recently married, was exiting the car and looking up at the place they were now calling home. Jack noticed the husband walk up and begin taking to the movers, but his eyes were fixed on the wife. If he were to guess, he would say she was maybe twenty-three with long dark brown hair that shined in the sun. She was wearing black yoga pants and a t-shirt and he could tell she had some nice curves.

Wanting to be a good friendly neighbor, Jack decided to walk across the street and introduce himself and welcome them to the neighborhood. He made some small chit chat, telling them a little about Woodberry and how he knew they were going to love it.

As he was walking back home he thought about his new neighbors, Emma was sweet as pie and had a beautiful smile. He didn’t get a look at her eyes, as her sunglasses were in the way, but he knew they were pretty no matter what color. Her husband, Connor, was nice too but much more quiet than Emma, and Jack couldn't help but wonder what he was like.

Saturday night was like most, Jack was making himself some dinner and would park in front of the T.V. for a little while before retiring to bed. He always found it a struggle to cook for one, even though it had been a few years since he cooked for a family. As Jack was slicing up some veggies for his salad there was a knock at the door.

“Hi Jack, sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if you had any menus to any good food delivery places? There’s no way I can cook with all my stuff in boxes.”

Emma said with a little giggle.

‘Damn she was adorable.’And steele blue… that’s the color he was waiting to see.

“Yeah sure, come on in.”

Jack motioned with his hand.

“Wow, your house is beautiful!”

“Thank you, I give most credit to my ex really.” Jack said as he riffled through a drawer of menus.

“Well she has great taste,” Emma said, looking around at all the details of the decorations, a lot of it was similar to her style too.

“Here you go, these are three options that are all great, depending on what mood you are in,” Jack smiled down at Emma as she took the menus from his hands, noticing her light pink nails.

Looking up into his eyes, she caught his gaze for just a moment, and it gave her a little flip in her belly, although she wasn’t sure why.

“Thank you Jack, enjoy the rest of your night.”

Emma walked back to her home on Willow ave and Jack watched her every step till she closed her door, then he closed his. Finishing his dinner then watching his show, he headed to bed. Just like every Saturday night.

Over the course of the fall Jack got to know Emma and Connor. Sometimes they would even get together for dinner. Connor was nice enough, but Jack really enjoyed the company of Emma. He loved her smile, the way she tucked her hair behind her ears and he couldn’t help but notice the way her breasts filled out a top, the curve of her waist, and the fullness of her hips and ass. He admired many times her long legs and even her cute little feet.

She was one of the sexiest women he had ever seen and she didn’t even know it, or at least she didn’t act like she did. From the little snippets of conversation him and her had, he knew her husband did not take full advantage of the goddess she was. Jack could tell that Emma was unsatisfied in bed by the comments she sometimes made to the way her eyes would drink him in with lust then quickly shy away. He wanted to give her what she needed but didn’t want to complicate anyone's life.

Halloween had come and gone, and Thanksgiving was fast approaching. Emma and Connor invited Jack over for dinner a week before the big turkey day. Emma knew that Jack would be busy with his kids coming into town and she wanted to see him before hand. As they were finishing up the lasagna Emma had made, Connor got a phone call from work and had to step out of the room. The noise in the dining room grew quiet and the sexual tension grew louder.

Looking over her glass of wine, Emma gazed at Jack. She loved her husband, but there was something about Jack that made her whole body tingle. Older, handsome, rugged, she often had fantasies about him taking her hard and passionately, using her body for his pleasure. She had never had that, the animal lust, a strong man who took exactly what he wanted. And Emma knew Jack wanted her.

Deciding to break the tension in the air, Emma began to clean off the table and carry dishes into the kitchen. Setting a few plates in the sink, she swallowed the last of her wine and placed her hands on the side of the sink taking a deep breath. Just as she was breathing out, she sharply gasped in as she felt arms wrap around her waist. She knew immediately that this was Jack, not Connor.

He towered above her, his strong arms gripping her, his smell absolutely intoxicating. Emma leaned back into him as his hands moved to grasp her hips, his fingers digging hard. Emma instinctively rocked her ass against his crotch, and her belly flipped when she heard him give a low growl. One of Jack’s strong hands moved to her thick hair, gripping right behind her head and the other hand reaching between her legs. Emma moaned as Jack pulled hard on her hair, pulling her head back as his other hand rubbed her pussy, she whimpered as he whispered low in her ear

“I’m going to show you how a real man fucks a little sweet girl like you. I’m going to turn you into my little slut, my fuck toy.”

With that he released her and walked away, found Connor in his office still on the phone and gave him a little wave then left. Emma didn’t move, her body was trembling and her heart was beating fast. She reached between her legs.. Never had she been that wet. A small smile came across her face, and she finally unglued her legs and headed up to bed.

Stripping off her clothes and slipping on a tiny night gown, Emma overlooked her body imaging what Jack would do to it. The whole idea was wrong but she couldn’t help the need she felt. Slipping into bed, Emma was putting lotion on her hands as Connor came into the room.

“Sorry about that babe, that was Eric and he had some news for me. Good news is I’m getting a lead on a special project. Bad news is I’ll have to be gone for the first week of December.”

Emma told him she understood and was proud of him and as he joined her in bed they proceed to make love like they usually did. Connor's mouth kissing hers as he ran his hands over her curvy body, lowering himself to her cunt and engulfing it with his mouth, licking her slit, sucking on her clit. It was good, but she always thought it could be better. She wondered how Jack would lick her pussy and the thought made another gush of wetness and she told her husband that she was going to cum, all the while envisioning cumming on Jack's handsome face.

Emma pushed Connor to his back and wrapped her lips around his cock working it with passion. He could only take about two minutes of that before he asked her to slow down; she knew he couldn’t last long. The lasting power always frustrated Emma but she never told him that as she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Backing off to give him a break Connor worked her till she was on the edge agsin as Emma lowered herself on her husbands cock, she knew she would only get a few pumps inside her before he came.

Focusing on the fantasy of Jack’s cock slamming inside her, wondering how deep he would be, how much of a slut she would be for him. Emma came hard as Connor exploded inside her. As Emma lay next to her husband, she felt a mix of guilt and excitement at what the first week of December might hold for her as she becomes Jack’s special girl.

[mastermover345]

Cleansing Providers Blouberg

The 50,000-seater Newlands Rugby Stadium is due to be demolished in 2021 to make means for more residential houses. Around 10km south of town heart around the back of Table Mountain, the southern Cape Town suburbs are more filled with expats than the suburbs in the north. They include each quiet household neighborhoods such as Newlands, Rondebosch and Claremont as properly as extra vibrant student-populated areas such as Mowbray, Rosebank and Observatory. Cape Town Hout BayHout Bay is a well-liked location for young families with youngsters as properly as younger professionals. It has a community-driven spirit, many energetic neighborhood teams and an excellent worldwide mixture of residents. These suburbs are a bit more distant than some other areas, ranging from between 10–15 kilometers from the town center.

Nonetheless, you will form your personal opinions from the agent who comes to your house to evaluate your necessities, as his or her attitude and professionalism are indicative of the company’s values as an entire. Iron Horse Relocations is a neighborhood,national and international removal & storage company based mostly Movers Bloubergstrand in Cape Town that focuses on quality, service and most of all customer satisfaction. Operational teams have an unlimited amount of skill and knowledge to ensure that correct procedures and policies are followed during the packing / loading / supply course of.

The South African Furniture Removals Alliance offers quite lots of promoting packages with a transparent focus on providing a excessive return on funding . Some of our advertising packages are also bundled with leads which suggests we provide promoting with guaranteed outcomes. No extra paying fees in course of advertising which comes with empty guarantees and little to no outcomes. Up until this time, refunds are accessible by way of the assigned ticketing platform of initial buy, and shall be deemed the responsibility of the attendee.

The Board of Governors appointed Andre as the Principal in 2004, following the retirement of the earlier principal. During this time, he studied additional and was awarded a BEd Honours Degree in Education Management from the University of Johannesburg. The part could have 2 DB's, 2 geysers, a kitchen, 3 bedrooms all with en-suites, 6 other moving company Bloubergstrand rooms. There remainder of the house might be done at a later stage. Please provide material with labor quote and labor only quote. Please embody the worth for chasing of wall and conduit set up.

Call the experts, A2B is at your service for skilled and trusted elimination advice. A2B Afford-A-Move will take the hassle out of moving, so you'll find a way to concentrate on your small business. If you want storage bins and different packaging materials, we’ve obtained you covered! We sell a wide variety of packing items at Stor-Age Table View.

We attempt by way of excellent communication, highly educated staff, quality service and good enterprise ethics to take the sting out of moving. Lennie’s will help you get a move on – and in the proper direction! We concentrate on residential in addition to office/corporate moves. We take delight in offering and delivering dependable movers Bloubergstrand, protected and skilled services to our prospects. The name Bloubergstrand means “blue mountain beach” in Afrikaans, and is derived from Blaauwberg (231 meters ), a nearby hill. Bloubergstrand is mainly a residential space and attracts massive numbers of visitors, especially kitesurf lovers.

Feel free to contact a minimal of three totally different moving companies to find one of the best quote on your price range. Have a look at our Google and Facebook evaluations to see what our customers say about our Joburg and Cape Town moving company. We needed to maneuver at quick discover for a local move, not only may they accommodate us, they helped us move our house with a smile, they have been inexpensive and so they noticed all of Covid-19 protocols. Thanks guys for such knowledgeable moving experience. I used Biggles Removals Company for our lengthy distance move and i can't recommend them sufficient.