#best house inspector

[cam-the-orange-cat]

Okay first of all: fantastic master list, 11/10, beautiful work.

Secondly: IT WORRIES ME TO A GREAT DEGREE THAT PEOPLE'S PARENTS AREN'T TEACHING THEIR CHILDREN THIS STUFF.

I want to live by myself when I move out of my parent's place but I'm really afraid of money problems? I'm afraid that the only place I can afford will be in the ghetto and it'll all be torn apart and I'll only be allowed to eat one granola bar a week. I'm really stressing out about this. I don't know anything about after school life. I don't know anything about paying bills or how to buy an apartment and it's really scaring me. is there anything you know that can help me?

HI darling,

I’ve actually got a super wonderful masterpost for you to check out:

Home

what the hell is a mortgage?

first apartment essentials checklist

how to care for cacti and succulents

the care and keeping of plants

Getting an apartment

Money

earn rewards by taking polls

how to coupon

what to do when you can’t pay your bills

see if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill

how to save money

How to Balance a Check Book

How to do Your Own Taxes

Health

how to take care of yourself when you’re sick

things to bring to a doctor’s appointment

how to get free therapy

what to expect from your first gynecologist appointment

how to make a doctor’s appointment

how to pick a health insurance plan

how to avoid a hangover

a list of stress relievers

how to remove a splinter

Emergency

what to do if you get pulled over by a cop

a list of hotlines in a crisis

things to keep in your car in case of an emergency

how to do the heimlich maneuver

Job

time management

create a resume

find the right career

how to pick a major

how to avoid a hangover

how to interview for a job

how to stop procrastinating

How to write cover letters

Travel

ULTIMATE PACKING LIST

Traveling for Cheap

Travel Accessories

The Best Way to Pack a Suitcase

How To Read A Map

How to Apply For A Passport

How to Make A Travel Budget

Better You

read the news

leave your childhood traumas behind

how to quit smoking

how to knit

how to stop biting your nails

how to stop procrastinating

how to stop skipping breakfast

how to stop micromanaging

how to stop avoiding asking for help

how to stop swearing constantly

how to stop being a pushover

learn another language

how to improve your self-esteem

how to sew

learn how to embroider

how to love yourself

100 tips for life

Apartments/Houses/Moving

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 1: Are You Sure? (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 2: Finding the Damn Apartment (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 3: Questions to Ask about the Damn Apartment (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 4: Packing and Moving All of Your Shit (The Responsible One)

How to Protect Your Home Against Break-Ins (The Responsible One)

Education

How to Find a Fucking College (The Sudden Adult)

How to Find Some Fucking Money for College (The Sudden Adult)

What to Do When You Can’t Afford Your #1 Post-Secondary School (The Sudden Adult)

Stop Shitting on Community College Kids (Why Community College is Fucking Awesome) (The Responsible One)

How to Ask for a Recommendation Letter (The Responsible One)

How to Choose a College Major (The Sudden Adult)

Finances

How to Write a Goddamn Check (The Responsible One)

How to Convince Credit Companies You’re Not a Worthless Bag of Shit (The Responsible One)

Debit vs Credit (The Responsible One)

What to Do if Your Wallet is Stolen/Lost (The Sudden Adult)

Budgeting 101 (The Responsible One)

Important Tax Links to Know (The Responsible One)

How to Choose a Bank Without Screwing Yourself (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting

How to Write a Resume Like a Boss (The Responsible One)

How to Write a Cover Letter Someone Will Actually Read (The Responsible One)

How to Handle a Phone Interview without Fucking Up (The Responsible One)

10 Sites to Start Your Job Search (The Responsible One)

Life Skills

Staying in Touch with Friends/Family (The Sudden Adult)

Bar Etiquette (The Sudden Adult)

What to Do After a Car Accident (The Sudden Adult)

Grow Up and Buy Your Own Groceries (The Responsible One)

How to Survive Plane Trips (The Sudden Adult)

How to Make a List of Goals (The Responsible One)

How to Stop Whining and Make a Damn Appointment (The Responsible One)

Miscellaneous

What to Expect from the Hell that is Jury Duty (The Responsible One)

Relationships

Marriage: What the Fuck Does It Mean and How the Hell Do I Know When I’m Ready? (Guest post - The Northwest Adult)

How Fucked Are You for Moving In with Your Significant Other: An Interview with an Actual Real-Life Couple Living Together™ (mintypineapple  and catastrofries)

Travel & Vehicles

How to Winterize Your Piece of Shit Vehicle (The Responsible One)

How to Make Public Transportation Your Bitch (The Responsible One)

Other Blog Features

Apps for Asshats

Harsh Truths & Bitter Reminders

Asks I’ll Probably Need to Refer People to Later

Apartments (or Life Skills) - How Not to Live in Filth (The Sudden Adult)

Finances - Tax Basics (The Responsible One)

Important Documents - How to Get a Copy of Your Birth Certificate (The Responsible One)

Important Documents - How to Get a Replacement ID (The Responsible One)

Health - How to Deal with a Chemical Burn (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting - List of Jobs Based on Social Interaction Levels (The Sudden Adult)

Job Hunting - How to Avoid Falling into a Pit of Despair While Job Hunting (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting - Questions to Ask in an Interview (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - First-Time Flying Tips (The Sudden Adult)

Life Skills - How to Ask a Good Question (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - Reasons to Take a Foreign Language (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - Opening a Bar Tab (The Sudden Adult)

Relationships - Long Distance Relationships: How to Stay in Contact (The Responsible One)

Adult Cheat Sheet:

what to do if your pet gets lost

removing stains from your carpet

how to know if you’re eligible for food stamps

throwing a dinner party

i’m pregnant, now what?

first aid tools to keep in your house

how to keep a clean kitchen

learning how to become independent from your parents

job interview tips

opening your first bank account

what to do if you lose your wallet

tips for cheap furniture

easy ways to cut your spending

selecting the right tires for your car

taking out your first loan

picking out the right credit card

how to get out of parking tickets

how to fix a leaky faucet

get all of your news in one place

getting rid of mice & rats in your house

when to go to the e.r.

buying your first home

how to buy your first stocks

guide to brewing coffee

first apartment essentials checklist

coping with a job you hate

30 books to read before you’re 30

what’s the deal with retirement?

difference between insurances

Once you’ve looked over all those cool links, I have some general advice for you on how you can have some sort of support system going for you:

Reasons to move out of home

You may decide to leave home for many different reasons, including:

wishing to live independently

location difficulties – for example, the need to move closer to university

conflict with your parents

being asked to leave by your parents.

Issues to consider when moving out of home

It’s common to be a little unsure when you make a decision like leaving home. You may choose to move, but find that you face problems you didn’t anticipate, such as:

Unreadiness – you may find you are not quite ready to handle all the responsibilities.

Money worries – bills including rent, utilities like gas and electricity and the cost of groceries may catch you by surprise, especially if you are used to your parents providing for everything. Debt may become an issue.

Flatmate problems – issues such as paying bills on time, sharing housework equally, friends who never pay board, but stay anyway, and lifestyle incompatibilities (such as a non-drug-user flatting with a drug user) may result in hostilities and arguments.

Your parents may be worried

Think about how your parents may be feeling and talk with them if they are worried about you. Most parents want their children to be happy and independent, but they might be concerned about a lot of different things. For example:

They may worry that you are not ready.

They may be sad because they will miss you.

They may think you shouldn’t leave home until you are married or have bought a house.

They may be concerned about the people you have chosen to live with.

Reassure your parents that you will keep in touch and visit regularly. Try to leave on a positive note. Hopefully, they are happy about your plans and support your decision.

Tips for a successful move

Tips include:

Don’t make a rash decision – consider the situation carefully. Are you ready to live independently? Do you make enough money to support yourself? Are you moving out for the right reasons?

Draw up a realistic budget – don’t forget to include ‘hidden’ expenses such as the property’s security deposit or bond (usually four weeks’ rent), connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.

Communicate – avoid misunderstandings, hostilities and arguments by talking openly and respectfully about your concerns with flatmates and parents. Make sure you’re open to their point of view too – getting along is a two-way street.

Keep in touch – talk to your parents about regular home visits: for example, having Sunday night dinner together every week.

Work out acceptable behaviour – if your parents don’t like your flatmate(s), find out why. It is usually the behaviour rather than the person that causes offence (for example, swearing or smoking). Out of respect for your parents, ask your flatmate(s) to be on their best behaviour when your parents visit and do the same for them.

Ask for help – if things are becoming difficult, don’t be too proud to ask your parents for help. They have a lot of life experience.

If your family home does not provide support

Not everyone who leaves home can return home or ask their parents for help in times of trouble. If you have been thrown out of home or left home to escape abuse or conflict, you may be too young or unprepared to cope.

If you are a fostered child, you will have to leave the state-care system when you turn 18, but you may not be ready to make the sudden transition to independence.

If you need support, help is available from a range of community and government organisations. Assistance includes emergency accommodation and food vouchers. If you can’t call your parents or foster parents, call one of the associations below for information, advice and assistance.

Where to get help

Your doctor

Kids Helpline Tel. 1800 55 1800

Lifeline Tel. 13 11 44

Home Ground Services Tel. 1800 048 325

Relationships Australia Tel. 1300 364 277

Centrelink Crisis or Special Help Tel. 13 28 50

Tenants Union of Victoria Tel. (03) 9416 2577

Things to remember

Try to solve any problems before you leave home. Don’t leave because of a fight or other family difficulty if you can possibly avoid it.

Draw up a realistic budget that includes ‘hidden’ expenses, such as bond, connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.

Remember that you can get help from a range of community and government organizations. 

(source)

Keep me updated? xx

[inspectovausa123]

When purchasing a property, selecting the best Home Inspector is essential. It entails confirming their credentials, experience, and client testimonials and ensuring they offer thorough reports and are insured. To assist you in making an informed choice, take into account other factors such as their availability, the cost of the inspection, and whether they provide post-inspection support. Selecting the best Home Inspector is just one of many important considerations that come with buying a house, and it is an exciting process. A comprehensive home inspection is essential because it can uncover hidden problems that a normal walk-through would miss. Here's a quick guide to choosing a home inspector who will ensure you make an informed choice. Let's have a look at the discussion.

[amanhomeinspec]

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Contact Us:- Name - Aman Home Inspection Address - 131 Rue des Sittelles, Chateauguay , QC, J6K 0B7 Mobile - +1 5142940519 Website - https://amanhomeinspection.ca/

[gallusrostromegalus]

Well. This is a Shitshow. Literally.

So if you've been following this blog, you will know that recently, I moved house. Nearly everything has been great- the location is already improving some of the mental and physical health issues I've been having, the animals love it.

BUT SOMEONE LIED

We went through literally a dozen home inspectors to prevent this from happening, but there's no preventing someone acting in Bad Faith, and turns out that the seller just... straight-up lied to us about an issue the sewer inspector pointed out and may have submitted fake paperwork saying they had it fixed.

It is very much Not Fixed :) There is raw sewage in my basement :)

The problem IS fixable, and I am not in danger, but this is going to cost a hell of a lot of money. We're already exploring legal options for a settlement*, the plumbing company we're working us gave us some really generous discounts and financing, but the fact of the matter is, this is going to cost $17,000 that I Do Not Have Right Now :)

*A settlement/lawsuit is not terribly likely to actually result in money because CO's legal protections for home-buyers kinda suck, and also, I Do Not Have Money Right Now, so I cannot afford the lawyer necessary to do all the filing. Best-case scenario for a settlement is likely "Maybe half the cost of the repairs, deposited in your bank account two years from now".

So, I know shit's been going around lately, but if you can throw a few bucks my way, it will go a long way towards my safety and sanity and also Getting The Raw Sewage Out Of My Basement In a Timely Fashion.

Ko-fi Paypal Fundraiser (Ends 4/20/23)

Thank you for your help, and I deeply, sincerely hoping that you are having a better day than I am.

[ladylaviniya]

Wails of Wedded Bliss

Chapter 6 || Masterlist || Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: Upon meeting the Baroness you are enamoured by her devotion.

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x wife!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, (No Smut), typical historical misogyny and sexism, mentions and discussion on miscarriages. Implied domestic abuse and infidelity.

Word Count: 9k

Author Notes: This is an important but rather sad chapter. I beseech you all to read the warnings. The details of this chapter are important to the plot of the missing Baron Thaddeus Pennicott.

Inspiring Song: "Flightless Bird American Mouth" by Vitamin String Quartet

8:30am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Sherlock tucked your arm into his side as you three entered the Groveland house foyer. The floor was made of fine marble tile and with ever step a light echo raced down the halls.

The inspector called upon a nearby dusting maid to fetch the head of the house. Who returned was a thin and tall man in a butler’s uniform with a sliver pocket watch hanging from his chest. His hair was the colour of autumn leaves and his face littered in freckles.

He bowed, “I am mister Edward Redmayne, head butler of the Groveland estate, how may I assist you?”

The inspector shook his hand and stated quickly, “We spoke on the telephone yesterday? A telegraph was sent.”

The butler smiled with a relieving gasp, “Detective Holmes?”

Lestrade sheepishly looked over his shoulder to you and your husband. He nodded. His expression wore a emotion of embarrassment mixed with annoyance. Perhaps he was jealous of your husband’s successful published case stories. You wished you could have told the constable not to fret as Sherlock was nothing short of a arrogant mule...yet again- the mark on his face...he probably already knew that.

8:42am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Upon meeting the lady of the house, you stood frigid by your husband. You felt somewhat self conscious by her grey eyes that lingered over your dress. Perhaps you should’ve worn your Sunday best before meeting a woman of such a high status.

The baroness was unmistakably pregnant. Her belly was bold and rounded beneath her maternity gown. She had been sitting calmly on a resting chaise, knitting a small bonnet for her future child. Her hands were covered in fine burgundy velvet gloves to match her modest dress.

Her face was framed by a light brown curls, that appeared almost white in some places, twisted into a bum at the base of her neck. Her pale face was blotchy with pink flecks and slight acne.

“Lady Pennicott, I am Inspector Braydon Lestrade of Scotland Yard,” the British officer proclaimed as he bowed dramatically forward. You withheld a girlish giggle by how low the man had bent his head and presented himself foolishly, and from the corner of your eye you manage to catch the whisp of Sherlock’s smirk.

The inspector waved his arm behind him and moved aside, “-and with me is Detective Sherlock Holmes and his wife, Mrs Holmes.”

You produced the baroness a respectable curtsy, your eyes glued down to the beautifully patterned carpet. You wondered how the servants could keep it so clean and freshly unstained by dirty guests. It must have been new.

The baroness shuffled her knitting needles and ball of woollen yarn into a Whicker basket and disposed of it beside her.

A slow stretching smile graced her thin lips as she spoke to you, “Oh, are you the little dear who solved that factory match girl incident?”

You weren’t sure how to answer her question. You weren’t entirely sure what the baroness was referencing until Sherlock stepped closer with your arm still cradled in his.

“No dear Baroness,” Sherlock pat your hand gently, “That would have been my sister Enola Holmes, she has her own detective office at present moment. My wife is here on my invitation. I wished to gift her a sight of the grand park and estate while I was here upon duty.”

The Baroness cocked her head, from her ears hung pearls that swung and hung like rain drops.

“Come forth dear,” she lifted her hand and beckoned you, “I would like to have better view of you.”

You wondered if she could smell the sweat beginning to drop down the back of your neck. You bit your tongue and tried to refrain from trembling. You were nervous. Her eyes were cold but her smile warm, two conflating details that you couldn’t understand. The last thing you needed now on top of a terrible start to your marriage was to be scrutinized by a haughty pregnant baroness.

She flickered your fingers for you to bend down to her. As you leant down, you swore you could smell copper, a metalic scent. A vein on your scalp pulsed. She scanned your face of its details. You dared to wonder what she was searching for. And then it clicked...the smell...

‘Dear god, you prayed, please don’t let her smell my blood, please let this not be my blood...’

You should have sprits on some perfume before leaving baker street.

She glanced behind you and questioned angelically, “How does it feel having such a clever husband?”

Your lips opened and closed. You resembled a fish. You were stumped to answer quickly.

‘Miserable, infuriating, torturous, pleasurable mixed with a cup of agony...’

She lifted her brows until you hurriedly blurted, “He is...formidable and righteous...” you stood up tall and took a step back, adding with a monetarism of truth, “I am very lucky to have become his bride.”

‘Lucky, while incredibly resentful.’

You reached back, Sherlock adopted your arm back into his hold once more.

Lady Pennicott rubbed her belly, her eyes started to twinkle, “And soon you will have a plethora of children that will look like him I gather.”

Your eyes fluttered. Sherlock’s hand tightened around your glove and his throat bobbed. You felt hot in the face.

Yes that’s right, that’s what normal husband and wife did isn’t it? They have children. That was your role, to be the mother of Sherlock’s offspring...

You couldn’t answer.

And there. That dear girl is when you questioned for the first time. ‘Is this what I want?’ and ‘Do I want Sherlock’s children.’ Because having a knowing of his barbarism conflated a fear in your belly...would Sherlock hurt his own children if he could easily hurt you, his wife?

When you hesitated for too long to answer her again, Sherlock said with a strained tone that was masked in a hopeful joy, “One may only hope, Baroness.”

“Lady Pennicott,” Graydon interrupted, “We have come to ask you on the whereabouts of Lord Pennicott and the evening he was last sighted.”

Her eyes narrowed at the inspector and with an annoyed twinge she muttered and wiped her hands on a nearby blanket, “I already informed the police of what I was informed of by our butler Edward.”

She glanced up next her right. Mister Redmayne observed her, looking down. The pair smiled to each other. She reached out to him. She grabbed his hand and they squeezed.

The inspector laughed nervously, “Indeed but Detective Sherlock Holmes was not presently involved in the case until yesterday.”

Her eyes flickered quickly to your husband and her face flared with confusion quickly to be matched with a impressed smile, “Of course, please sit all of you as I am near a indisposition with my child,” she gestured to the mirroring chaise and a chair beside the fireplace, “Edward, please tell Martha to bring tea and biscuits for our kind service men and Mrs Holmes.”

The butler bowed to you all and left the sitting room.

Lestrade took his place on the lone chair while Sherlock sat you beside him on the chaise. You took your time to lower yourself. Sitting on your bruises was uncomfortable while another cramp hit you. Your fingers dug into his palm.

From Lestrades breast pocket he pulled out a notebook and small pencil.

“Lady Pennicott,” Sherlock softly hummed, “Please, could you tell me what your husband is like as a person?”

The woman who you believed was in her late thirties smiled and stated softly, “My Thaddeus is a noble man, good taste in wine and very devoted to his work. He likes to go hunting and we share a passion for gardening,” she glanced up at the ceiling and paused, “He prefers to plant vegetables to donate to the church and orphans, whereas I have always loved to grow my flowers.”

The way she described him, her devotion was deep and honourable. She touched her round belly.

Sherlock looked over to the fire place behind the baroness. On the mantle was a magnificent portrait twice your height, painted on the canvas was who you recognised as Lord and Lady Pennicott. He was sitting up straight on a fine red cushioned chair with his dirty blonde hair and softened mutton chops while she stood at his right and her ringed hand on his shoulder. The similarities were there but Lady Pennicotts hair had lightened in reality perhaps from all the years that separated her likeness and her reality.

“I was informed Lord Pennicott is a father of five?” Sherlock asked.

The Baroness smiled proudly and pat her tummy softly, “Six soon.”

You couldn’t help notice something was missing from the painting, Sherlock also had a similar thought.

Where were the children in the portrait? Where was a family portrait in the house?

“Forgive me,” a breath of air escaped from him, “are the children away at school?”

“Oh,” her uncanny smile remained while her brows angled down, her throat tightened as she spoke, “I fear they are in the loving embrace of angels now. All of them were taken from us by God,” her eyes glanced to you, “They came out sleeping.”

Your heart sunk to the pit of your belly with sorrow and pity.

Five babies lost, five babies gone…five pregnancies… four and a half years of pregnancy and for what? Five angels.

A woman had one holy role in life, to bare her husband children, and when a woman was defective or produced a sickly child, it was a symbol of failure in society. But you never saw it that way...you imagined it must’ve been agony to lose so many babies. One or two was a common occurrence but five? Five was a curse to experience and relive over and over.

“Well,” you interrupted Sherlock rudely, cutting him off from his next abrasive question by squeezing his hand a little too hard.

You could see the mourning in the baroness’ face. You saw the classic look of all women made uncomfortable by something a man has said. What the hell would the detective know about a woman’s emotions after how coldly he has treated all women and yourself.

You shuffled on the opposite chaise and smile softly, “I will pray this one will come swiftly and feel the warmth of their mother.”

The baroness’ face lifted and warmed. She smiled happily and nodded, “Thankyou, oh I’m just so excited! This one really is a big one, I can feel it. I hope it’s a boy.”

Sherlock was staring at you intensely as the maid Martha finally delivered a pot of tea and poured the steaming liquid. His brows were knitted and his eyes held suspicion as he kept you in his sight. You politely nodded your head once at him before reaching for a hot cup and lifting it to your lips.

Sherlock sighed and turned back to his questioning, “You would say you liked your marriage?”

The baroness appeared offended by your husband as her face wrinkled and a sneer spread her thin lips, “Of course, any woman who doesn’t like her marriage should not be married in the first place. She is a burden to her husband if she cannot perform her duties as a wife.”

Lady Pennicott leant forward and collected her own cup of tea, she delicately pinched a biscuit and dunked it into the contents.

…you felt Sherlock drag his thumb across your fingers. You felt chilly, could he read your thoughts? Did he know truly how much you already hated him and his ideas of intimacy in your marriage? He clear his throat when both your glancing eyes caught each other.

“Can you tell me what happened,” Sherlock pressed, “The night of your husbands disappearance?”

“Well...after dinner,” the baroness sighed in thought and nibbled on her moist biscuit, “Thaddeus wanted to speak with me in his office about a spending I had made a week ago. You see, I had bought a cradle for the nursery. The one we had originally was broken and beyond repair, we disposed of it a month prior. Thaddeus was not pleased with the price and claimed it was an unnecessary purchase,” she paused and set her cup aside before she touched her belly again; rubbing in soft slow circles, she began to blushed, “He was sorely hurt by my choice. He then became very cross with me and left his office in a huff.”

She looked to the yarn, to the tea pot and then finally to the painting on the mantle, “I deemed that he would find forgiveness in his heart by the morning and brush it off. I returned back to the nursery to tidy up before I went to my rooms and went to bed to sleep in my quarters of the east wing. Thaddeus keeps himself to the west wing most nights.”

The detective nodded, “What time do you believe it was when you went to your bed, Baroness?”

She hummed softly while pursuing her lips, “A quarter to nine in the evening.”

“And how did you realise your husband was missing?” Sherlock stole a scone off the tea tray and lifted it to his lips. He paused amidst chewing it slowly.

The noble woman sighed and recollected, pragmatically, “In the morning Mr Redmayne informed me on how Thaddeus took off into the night astride Arion, our prize stallion Clydesdale. Thaddeus had not returned by the next morning and that is when concern drew near. I sent members of my staff to the factories to investigate his whereabouts and none had come upon him. I knew something had to be wrong so I alerted the authorities by the second morning.”

Your husband took a deep breath and discarded the half bitten scone, he wiped his hand unceremoniously on his jacket and throatily asked, “Do you recall if Lord Pennicott has any potential persons he might be deemed as an enemy towards?”

“Only his company competitors, Detective,” She said saccharinely with her smile, “He was a very loveable man.”

“Do you have a list of the names of staff who were working that evening here in Groveland House?”

The butler stepped forward and cleared his throat, “That would be in Lord Pennicotts office,” he pulled out a pair of keys, “I can you show you gentlemen in and where he keeps his accounts and other paraphernalia to his business if you’d like?”

Both Sherlock and Lestrade smiled and stood up.

“Baroness,” Sherlock gently requested, “Would it be overly bothersome if my beloved wife remained and kept you company while the inspector and I look in your husband’s office.”

Your heart jumped to your throat. What was Sherlock doing leaving you behind with the Baroness by yourself!?....what if you spoke out of turn or said something too presumptuous for your status!?...

“Most certainly not,” she beamed “I will gladly accept such delightful company,” She held out a hand, palm down to her right. The butler speedily stepped to her side and leant her his hand. She winced as she scooted forward on the cushioned lounge before struggling to rise to her feet.

Sherlock leant down and kissed the back of your wrist again, so scantily in front of the baroness. You tried tor refrain from loudly gasped and bringing anymore dangerous attention to yourself. Your husband left your side and followed the butler with Lestrade out of the sitting room.

So the party turned to two married women. The baroness was pleased.

She stepped closer to you and reached for your arm. You were surprised by her familiarity but you would not deny the assistance of a woman so desperately swollen and ready to birth any day.

“My dear, would you care to have a stroll with me in my garden?” She smirked and jerked her chin, “Knowing how dear Thaddie kept his space organised I suspect the gentlemen might be a while.”

You nodded and quickly made the warning assurance, “Are you in a condition to move great feets Lady Pennicott?”

“Fret not,” She giggled girlishly and waved her hand casually, “The physician told me fresh air is delightful for the health of the babe,” she tapped the top of her belly, “I have a month or so before they come.”

Your eyes widened, she looked huge enough to give birth now, surely she wasn’t a month away!! Maybe she was going to be blessed with a pair of twins. You had such a limited knowledge of pregnancy in women. Your grandmother hadn’t given birthed a child in the last forty years before your birth!!!

She pointed the way out of the main mansion to enter the garden paths. The sun was perfect today amongst the clouds. It was neither cold nor hot nor humid and dank...it was pleasant and you could smell the fresh nature of bushels and flowers.

“How long have you been known as, The Mrs Holmes?” She inquired cheerfully with her shining silver eyes.

“...Not very long,” you replied warmly before risking a white lie, “We recently finished our honeymoon.”

She grinned and waddled passed a wooden bench, she took a quick stop to rest and pat the seat for you to join her instead of standing dumbly.

“Shall I share some words of advise?,” She hummed, “From a woman that has been married for twelve years?”

“I would be ever so grateful,” you said rushed and desperate. You wouldve listened to anything she had to say. A woman of her standing must’ve held adequate wisdom.

She warmly cupped both your hands and squeezed them. And yet there was an ice creepy into her gaze. She appeared to dissociate, her voice losing its youthful lilt. Her lip wobbled slightly.

“Men are visual creatures. While you are so young and beautiful, you must become pregnant as soon as possible,” Lady Pennicott ran her palm across your waist, her eyes like razors cut across the yard to a bush of red rose buds, “It is inevitable that our husbands will stray their gazes to other women, it is in their nature,” those grey stones in her face rolled back and weighed you down, “as I said- visual creatures. The sooner you make a babe, the easier his devotion comes,” A joyous grin returned to her thin lips, she playfully tapped the tip of your nose and stated, “Trust me upon this.”

You clenched your hand behind you and strained a smile, “I thankyou for such wise words Baroness. I will endeavour to do what I must to conceive.”

At this moment in time Sherlock had proved himself a monstrous villain. Would it be possible for you to fall pregnant?

You looked out at the divine lush greenery and exhaled softly.

“Do you garden Mrs Holmes?” the baroness queried.

You chuckled softly and removed your gloves, you flashed her a sight of your palm, “I am afraid my hands have never been introduced. My grandmother preferred I focus on mastering piano and embroidery.”

The grey orbs fluttered back at you with a surprised him, “Embroidery is a lovely skill,” she pat your hand and pointed across the field, “Please help me up Mrs Holmes, let us take a look at my lilacs.”

You stood straight up and leant out your arm, she was surprisingly light for a woman her size. She leant against you and took small timid steps to her flower patches.

She stood and admired the flower patches, pointing to different types and explaining the breeds of flowers she hoped to grow in the future.

You finally bent over enough and cupped the petals of purple to hold up to your nose and took in a wiff “They smell lovely,” from the corner of your eye was a line of crimson, “I see your roses will soon be in bloom.”

She pinched a bud that was peaking to bloom soon.

“Oh yes, the soil is rich and healthy,” she giggled, “I can’t wait for Thaddeus to return, he liked the roses. He would stand here for a while and think. I know he will love the red colour. It is his favourite shade you see...” She sighed dreamily with her eyes scanning the bushes of scarlet rose buds, “I miss him terribly. I hope he’s alright. I want him to come home soon before the baby arrives.”

A fly smacked into your eye and you sputtered, battering it away. When you gracelessly composed yourself, you stood back up to your feet beside the Lady of Groveland.

You could see how her eyes puddles with droplets of mournful tears. You felt bad for any woman that did not know where her husband was. Especially if there was a rumour about him fleeing the marriage and abandoning her in her serious pregnant condition.

Taking the chance, you boldly took both your hands into yours and now squeezed them. Another buzzing from a fly sat on your shoulder.

The day was growing warmer and a bead of sweat rolled down your neck. The fly tickled your neck and suckled along your salted skin.

You tried your best to ignore the annoying creature.

“I am sure he will Lady Pennicott,” you soothed with a soft welcoming grin, “And he will be most happy when he returns.”

She sighed solemnly and glanced back at the rose bushes. You felt obligated for her happiness in that moment. Glancing back to the house you felt a opportunity come to you.

“May I visit your nursery Lady Pennicott, so I may have references for my own in the future?”

Her eyes flickered up, her face shine bright and her hand tightened over your wrists excitedly as though she was still as youthful as a school girl.

“Why of course Mrs Holmes,” she spun on her heel and wobbled a slight, she lifted her hand and called to the maid Martha still packing the china set inside, “Please inform the detective that I am taking his wife up to the nursery.”

“Yes Baroness,” she said with a humble curtsey and scurried off while Lady Pennicott took you totally inside the house and up a grand stair case from the foyer.

9:03am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Up, up, up you both climbed the stairs. You noticed how the stairs didn’t bother her ladyship once, she was fit and stridden widely whereas you were breathing a little hard by the top step.

She pulled you down a hallway to a white painted door.

She excitedly opened the door wide and practically skipped inside to show you around her future child’s room.

The walls were covered in light blue and yellow paint. There were small peonies covering the trim of the room. There was no carpet but who needed one when you had a newborn.

“Welcome to the resting nest of my baby,” Lady Pennicott proudly exclaimed, spreading her arms out at the room around you.

There was a tall shelf filled with stuffed animals and teddy bears. There was a rocking horse, a doll house, spinning tops, tin cars and rubber balls all waiting, collecting dust, awaiting the arrival of a playmate. There was a permabulator by the window sill. There was a rocking chair in one corner and against the wall closest to the door- you smiled and swaggered over curiously, “Is this the cradle you bought?”

It was made of fine cream painted wood. You chewed your bottom lip in the thought. It was a lovely crib, why was Lord Pennicott so upset by such a delightful purchase? He didn’t have money issues. You put it down as that you didn’t understand the way men thought and men will never know what women think.

“Yes,” Lady Pennicott chirped, “it is from William Whitely department store in Baywater next to the Howard & Co dress department.”

The Baroness sat down into her rocking chair and slowly moved it back and forth, watching you admire the nursery she spent hours and years consistently curating.

You clenched the edge and looked over the railing down at the empty bedding. There was a teddy lamb in the corner, you pinched it’s fluffy white tail and sighed. For a brief moment you let your eyes close and your imagination wander far.

One day you’d have this...with Sherlock. An empty cradle to be filled. You caught the vision of a tiny hand squeeze around your finger and the sound of soft gurgles with the warm pressure of a hand on your waist...was that Sherlock’s hand? Was that your child?

One day you’d have a baby to care for, to provide these things that meant love...yet, was any child of Sherlock’s capable of love? He certainly wasn’t as far as you were concerned.

You bit down a shudder and opened your eyes, feeling hot tears glide down a cheek. You pushed back and sighed, “I am most confident on one thing Lady Pennicott.”

“And what is that Mrs Holmes?” she said softly, she could see the unspoken pain in your face. You swallowed hard and your face fell into a smile, you flashed her a wink.

You laughed softly, “Your child will be spoilt rotten by the love you give.”

She chuckled with you and nodded.

“Have you thought of a name?” you inquired, waltzing over to the chested drawers of baby knick knacks on display.

“Thaddeus Colin if it’s a boy,” she hummed, “or Theresa Grace if it is a girl.”

“Theresa?”

She giggled gently, “That is my name dear.”

Mrs Theresa Pennicott. It suited her. Her old soul eyes reflected her devout name.

A shine of glass pierced a ray of sun into your eyes, you pinched the glass object carefully. You touched a long black tube pulling out of it. You couldnt understand it’s purpose, your eyes narrowed at the rubber end that was shaped like a thumb or a cows udder. There was a second tube attached to the first with a rubber squeeze ball at the end.

“What is this?” you humoured.

“Oh that? It’s a fantastic invention,” The baroness said, “It’s a pump for breast milk with a tube that syphons the milk into this baby feeding bottle. When babies start to teeth they can scar your breasts. This is an effective and modern method I look forward to trying.”

Your eyes widened, scarring!? Babies teeth could scar a breast!?

You placed the bottle bump back and helped Lady Pennicott when she beckoned to stand back up from the rocking chair.

“Have you ever felt the sensations?” She suddenly, “In which they kick within?”

Your face must’ve looked idiotic as you asked plainly, “Kick?”

She giggled and nodded, “Give me your hand, perhaps you may feel them moving.”

She plucked your palm and pulled your glove off your fingers. She pressed your entire hand intimately to her belly. You felt a sense of taboo shame, she was making you touch such a beloved spot.

“Do you feel it?” she then asked.

Felt what? Confusion flooded your mind. Your hand moved around her belly slowly.

“I am afraid I don’t know what I’m meant to be feeling?”

She moved your hand and again you felt absolutely nothing.

“They are very brutal on my body,” Lady Pennicott sarcastically assured, “trust me there is a kick.”

She made a point to push your hand harder, but all you felt was the hard material of her corsetry beneath her main dressing materials.

“Baby’s kick you inside?” you marvelled with stunned horror. This was the first time you’d ever heard of such a notion of a baby beating it’s mother inside.

“Not out of malicious intent Mrs Holmes,” she reassured, “mostly it is the baby using its limbs to move their cramped bodies inside or excitement at the sound of voices, I truly believe they can hear us while still inside. Fear not, to you it will feel like a faint touch like this-”

Lady Pennicott softly tapped your wrist, “Like that.”

And there again was new knowledge you heard from a woman on matters of pregnancy. You moved your fingers around, seeking the supposed feeling of a kick...

Still nothing. You frowned, was there something wrong with you that the baby was choosing not to reveal itself.

“How interesting...”

A soft knock on wood alerted you both to glance at the door.

“Mrs Holmes,” the butler from earlier politely spoke, “the detective is requesting your return, I believe he intends to depart.”

Your face fell. You couldn’t believe it but you’d found this experience immensely enjoyable. You had surprisingly made a friend of the Baroness.

The fair lady hugged your side and sweetly exhaled, “Then I shall escort you back to your husband, Eddie fetch me my cheque book.”

He nodded and walked ahead of you both. You solemnly shut the nursery door, trying to remember every precious detail as possible. It was a innocent place to escape from the crude world.

You returned to the bottom of the foyer and smiled at your husband that stood by Lestrade at the front doors.

By the bottom step you faced the noble woman and curtsied.

“Thankyou Lady Pennicott for your kind hospitality and agreeable cooperation to the case,” you heard Sherlock’s voice float over your shoulder.

“Of course detective, please,” the Butler returned with her cheque book, “find my beloved Thaddeus.”

She scribbled speedily with a modernised ink pen, a sharp tear of paper flashed to his direction, “Here. Thirty pounds. I am sure you are busy with other clients considering your reputation, but I beseech you to seek out my husband quickly.”

Sherlock bowed his head as he deposited the cheque into his pocket, “We shall try our hardest. Good afternoon Lady Pennicott.”

Your mouth might’ve collected flies. Thirty pounds. THIRTY pounds. That was a hefty wage for a year to many men.

Sherlock was granted his coat and walking cane along with Lestrade.

He opened the front door and left slowly, glancing over your shoulder back at the heavily pregnant Baroness.

9:21am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Sherlock and you walked up the gravel path in silence for sometime. You weren’t in much of a mood to speak to him despite well knowing conversation would need to spark eventually.

The three of you slowed down beside the inspectors horse cart.

Thankfully it was Sherlock who destroyed the silence with a stretched sigh. Lestrade grimly smiled at that sigh and rocked on his heels.

“Lestrade, show a useful skill,” Sherlock slapped a coin purse into his chest, “Find my wife and I a decent ride homeward. You still need to return back to the office and finish writing those reports on the Spring heeled Jack sightings....” he snickered.

The mutton chop male grumbled and left you pair alone to walk down the path into the main parklands to hail a cabriolet or another hackney carriage.

Sherlock pulled out his pipe and lit it quickly, he inhaled fast and asked curiously, “Did you learn anything else from our suspect?”

You squinted and felt a gasp pop from your lips, your hand snapped out and dug your nails into his arm with a scolding hiss, “Suspect? Look at the state she is in Sherlock. She clearly loves her husband. How could such a indisposed woman do anything to her husband?”

He smirked, “Perhaps a jealous one?”

Your brows pulled together. Jealousy wasn’t something you would’ve describe Lady Pennicott as especially with such a privileged life. Such an emotion wouldve been beneath her...but.. ‘It is inevitable that our husbands will stray their gazes to other women, it is in their nature.’

Sherlock pinched out a piece of card from his pocket, a business calling card, he flashed it through his fingers and let you carefully pluck it from his hand.

“it is no wonder Thaddeus Pennicotts name was so familiar,” Sherlocks huffed a puff of air, “He visits a like minded establishment.”

On the front of the card was a single image, a dove holding a olive leaf, and when you turned the card around there was a woman modelled in immodest clothing with text and an address in perfect hand writing.

“The Mayfair Row Dove club.”

You almost dropped the card in the mud at your feet.

He tucked the card back into his breast pocket and hooked his arm around yours, walking you closer to Lestrade waving his hands back at you both.

“I’m curious who his go to bird is there,” He chuckled.

You shook your head and scoffed in disbelief, “but she’s pregnant.”

“Men have needs,” Sherlock sighed, “I thought you’d have learnt that from last evening?”

Your nails dug harder into his arm and grit your teeth. Not everyone was as depraved as Sherlock, surely not. You couldn’t imagine Mycroft or your grandfather practicing such atrocities on women, especially women that weren’t their wives.

You noted snootily, “She said her husband liked to stand out by the roses to think. Perhaps he regretted his choice.”

Sherlock laughed cruelly and hard enough to almost drop his pipe from his lips. He plucked it out of his mouth and kissed you hard and squarely in front of Lestrade and any passing people that shook their heads in disgust at such public affection.

The taste of his tobacco filled your cheeks and floated down your throat into your chest. You could feel how his breath became your breath. Your head grew dizzy from it. His release left you trembling and collapsing against him briefly. His arm grabbed around your waist and held you totally against his chest.

“You see too much good in the worst people,” he whispered wetly into your ear.

“Not true,” you panted, you blinked your eyes hard and tried speaking again. You weakly pushed away from him back onto your own two feet. From the corner of your eyes you could see the inspector standing beside another hackney carriage.

“Not true,” you repeated and swallowed hard, “...I don’t see any good in you Sherlock.”

He grinned devilishly and walked you both to the carriage, He ignored Lestrade entirely except for retrieving his own purse.

“None at all?” Sherlock asked as he helped you step up inside of the carriage. It jostled as he plotted himself next to you instead of opposite.

You thought hard on his question for a time. You shouldn’t have ever been as petty as him. So you kept your silence before you could decide on a eloquent response. You did try to find the good in him. The trouble was you barely knew Sherlock and the side that you’d encounter was nothing short of a blagged, insufferable man that happened to be very experienced in the arts of the bedroom. So you tried to think about qualities you hadn’t seen in him but had at least heard of him.

“You help solve cases and even sometimes restitution, these deeds could be counted as decent and beneficial...perhaps good...”

He smirked until you finished hastily, “However your mistreatment and lustful addiction is nothing short of that than a person that suffers in his sin.”

A long annoyed sigh drew from his lips, however the corners jerked up.

He tug out his pipe and tapped it’s contents out the moving window, “Might I ask Mrs Holmes...” he inquired as he tucked in his pipe, and wiped his lips thoughtfully, “Do you think yourself better than me?”

The silence shared between the horses trotting along the cobblestones allowed you a chance to glare long and hard at Sherlock.

It was a jab, a jibe, a joke, a trick, a trap...

He wanted you to say yes... You could see it in his eyes the way they flicked to your lips and almost drooled with anticipation. He wanted to start a fight.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at you, you turned your head away and scoffed, “You may have quick wit and a expansive knowledge Sherlock, but I at least carry myself with the fairest morals.”

And that? The reply was granted a omen of Sherlock’s sickly chuckles and his heavy warm hand to sit over your thigh, running his them over the fabric of your skirts.

“We will see how fair a baker street whore morals really are when we arrive home then shall we?”

You leant against the wall of the carriage and chose to ignore him. You closed your eyes and held Sherlock’s hand to prevent it wandering anywhere else. His thumb rubbed along the back of your gloves hands.

You couldn’t understand Sherlock. And feared you never would.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[ghostybaby000]

Never Yours | Part 4

Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn't know what to expect while listening to your cry's on the phone praying you wouldn't loose consciousness.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+, violent theme, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic.

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla @cumsluut @sofiacoppolaslut

(Not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies! My internet is also down for now, so posts may not be consistent)

You adjust yourself to be seated more upright, again clearing your throat. Letting go of Simons hand for a moment you rub the tiredness from your eyes and take in several deep breaths. Replacing your hand and Simons in your lap, you begin.

‘I was trying to get things ready for dinner. Setting the table, cleaning the countertops, finishing the dishes. Someone knocked on the door so I set my dish down in the sink and made my way to the door to check the peephole. He was in uniform, some company uniform it…It looked so real.’ Your voices begins to fade out as the lump in your throat became harder to swallow. You shake your head to clear the thoughts, knowing that Simon would need to know the information at some point nonetheless. You take a long breath and squeeze his hand as you push on. 

‘I opened the door a crack and he said that he was a home inspector of some kind when I’d asked. I remember he was knowledgeable of the company and what it was about, not that I’m remembering much now. I told him…I tried to tell him that he could come back another time and that we were busy. That’s when I knew something was off.’ Another pause that allowed you to take in more air your lungs suddenly needed desperately, Simons eyes giving the strength to continue. 

‘He was so much taller, bigger than I was- I didn’t want to be alone with him, and my gut agreed. He insisted that he would check some part of the house as an annual inspection and he tried to open the door more…I-I pushed as hard as I could to shut it, and I almost had it. Everything moved so fast after that. I knew he wasn’t true to his title and that I was in danger, so I tried again to close the door with all my strength but It wasn’t enough…’ Simons hand drew you out of your mind as he thumbed over the top side of your hand. His jaw was set firm and his knee had entirely stopped bouncing. He nodded to you letting you know to continue although you knew that if you didn’t want to, he would never make you.

‘He had pushed hard to get inside against my efforts, so when he tried to do a much bigger push I let the weight of the door go and he came barreling inside. He didn’t fall but took a moment to turn and close the door, I heard him lock it. I tried to run as fast as I could, I just felt so panicked it’s like my legs were jelly. I made it to the stairs where I got up before him and to the bedroom, and I noticed he wasn’t running after me- like he knew I wouldn’t get away by running…’ Again the thoughts in your mind became a storm as you wiped a falling tear, trying to steady your breathing. Your voice went on slow, taking time to recall the events as best your mind would allow you to. 

‘I grabbed my phone off the bed and went into the bathroom as quietly as I could, I had your number dialed when he kicked in the door and grabbed me around my neck.’ Your hand reached up to touch the tender spot where bruises had formed. ‘He hit me across the face and I fell backwards, and then he hit me again when I made my way to the ground. From here it gets fuzzy, I know I passed out and I’m not sure for how long. All I knew is that when I woke up I heard him rummaging through the house, and then his steps. He bounded up the stairs again for the bathroom and he saw that I was conscious. His figure is blurry when I think of it, but he was tall and had dark hair.’ You were straining your mind to try and recall what the man had looked like, your head began to ache so instead you pressed on. 

‘The next thing I knew I…I saw him over me and felt a horrible burning followed by a wetness that wasn’t like water, it was warmer. He ran from the room and then the house, fleeing the scene. I couldn’t sit up and felt really dizzy, and then the pain set in. I’d never felt pain like that, so sudden and unending…. I saw my phone and made a reach for it but I just couldn’t get it in my hands. I could barely click call for your number…The next thing I know I’m here with you in the hospital.’ Simon was deep in his thoughts, a tear stain running down his left cheek. 

He takes a deep inhale that sounds stammered as you touch his arm and speak out to him. ‘I’m here, and safe now.’ Simons gaze doesn’t meet yours, his face only growing more stern- he was angry. You pull your hand from him to turn his face towards yours.

‘Simon. I’m here. I’m here looking at you and listening to you. You saved me, you are the reason I am alive.’ Your eyes darted between Simons as he looked into yours although they didn’t light up in the way they typically would if you had said something of a similar manner, his mind was elsewhere. He tugged a grin across his face and then his husky voice met your ears. 

‘I am the reason…’ His voice fell short in his throat before he could continue. He tore his eyes from yours to look at the floor and then back to you. He took a short breath and started again in a better tone, although you knew he wasn’t saying what he wanted. 

‘You need to rest my dove, it’s going to be the best thing for your recovery and that’s whats important.’ He stood just slightly to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. You knew that arguing his thoughts would be no use and decided he was right, within minutes you had fallen asleep.  

Once your eyes began to dart underneath your eyelids, he knew that you were in a deep enough sleep that you wouldn’t stir if he had left. Simon rose to his feet and made his way out of the room silently, closing the door behind him. He didn’t like leaving you at all, but his anger for the man that harmed you outweighed the need to stay. 

He rings Price as he gets to the parking garage where he moved the car after the doctors had taken you. The ring goes on for a moment, before he hears him on the other end.

‘What have you got for me?’ Simons voice is lower, a scary calm that would send chills down anyone’s spine. Price took a long breath on the other side before responding to Simon, he could hear him leave a group of other people for privacy. 

‘I’ve managed to find who we think it is, and we might have a location I told you I would call when I found him.’ Prices voice rings with leadership and power, he wants to keep Simon from loosing his head all the while bringing justice to you who was harmed. 

‘Where is he?’ Simon starts the car and begins to make his way out of the lot. Price sighs, a mutual agreement that Simon would be relentless in getting to the man no matter the odds. 

‘I’ve already got men headed to the location Simon, and I’ll tell you when we’ve got him’ 

‘I want him myself.’ Simons voice is stern, and Price understands his determination more than he lets on. The team he’s sent should already be there by now, so there was no harm in allowing Simon to go, there would be others there to step in if things got out of control.

*ding* Simon takes a moment to pull the phone from his ear and see the text from Price, the location. 

‘Thank you.’ Simon hangs up the phone before Price can respond, the sound of the car filling his ears as he made his way around a turn headed the right direction. 

When he pulled into the abandoned apartment duplex, he found 2 more vehicles parked outside and recognized them as part of his own team. He saw their flashlights in the windows as they were searching the first story of the building, they hadn’t found him yet. 

Simon parked a good distance away and walked around towards the backside of the building and rounded a corner, coming face to face with the back side of a truck. The same truck the cameras showed from the neighbor’s home, he was definitely here. He made his way further behind the building, the only thing outside being dumpsters and broken glass scattered around it. He paused upon hearing a screeching door somewhere on the other side of the building behind him. 

*BANG*  

*BANG*

Shots rang out from behind Simon as he spun around he saw a man lying face down to the ground groaning. He ran to the man who had been shot and heard his comrades radio that they had gotten him, and didn’t go any closer seeing Simon approach the man. Simon watched as blood slowly leaked from the man’s lower half thanks to the bullet hole through his lower abdomen. A glare caught his eye as he looked over the man, a jagged knife had fallen from his hands and was now out of reach. Simon was over the man now staring at him, he couldn’t hear his thoughts or the mans protests through the anger as he rolled him over to face him.

 He held the man into a sitting position with one fist bunched around his clothing as he began to ruthlessly beat him with his other free hand. He thought to your face and swollen neck, the IV drips coming from your body, he saw the mans face was contorted and his nose began to bleed aggressively. He thought to the bandages and wounds that should have never touched your body, as he heard a crack somewhere in his hand. The man took a hold of Simons arm that was holding him up, trying to wrench himself free. He thought to your voice calling out for him over the phone as you groaned out in pain, and the fear that followed your voice and landed a punch square to the mans face. His hands that had been trying to rip him from Simon now fell limply to his side, he was unconscious.

Simon dropped him from where he was just as others had reached him to stop him from doing any more damage. He said nothing to the others as he walked back to his car, leaving the mangled man on the ground, and made his way back to you. 

He pulled into the lot, adrenaline still pulsing though him as he parked the car and made his way up to your room. He took no spare time in getting back to your side, pushing open the room door to see you were still asleep. He settled into his chair as he reached out again for your hand. He felt his own hand twinge in pain as he looked down to see one of his fingers was heavily inflamed and slightly twisted, another inflamed but still straight. He huffed to himself taking a breath as he settled into the chair, he would worry of his own injuries once you were awake. 

A few hours went on as nurses came and went, one staying to take vitals and waking you in the process. You sat up to see Simon in the chair next to you, this time asleep. He always looked so calm like this, something that made you feel all the more safe when with him. It was dark in the room and the nurse quickly made her way out as you laid back down and allowed yourself to rest as well. 

Morning came as the doctor strode in, Simon already awake and watching a silent show on the TV. His chair was facing the same direction, his hands interwound in his lap. 

‘Good morning everyone, I see you stayed the night Simon.’ Simon looked to him and gave a nod as he turned his chair to face you and what the doctor would say next. 

The doctor went over test results and assured that you were recovering well, despite it taking longer than you had hoped. He left you with a prescription for medication and let you know it would be another day of tests before you could leave. Simon looked to you and smiled, a true smile now knowing that you were making progress towards being better. He let his hand come up to meet yours as the doctor began to leave the room. 

‘You’re in an awfully bright mood this morning.’ You smile to Simon as you place your hand over his you feel him tense. He looks to you and blinks slowly, as he talks to you with the morning gruff in his voice you never wanted to lose. 

‘Only when I get to see you.’ Your smile begins to fall as you look down towards Simons hand and find the knuckles to be bruised, one of them split. You gasp as you retract your hand from his and look to his face, which had become more serious now. 

‘Simon…What did you do to yourself? It look so inflamed…’ Your voice trailed as you gently grabbed his hand and held it in clear view, he had definitely broken at least two fingers. His head fell as he stared at the blankets, and it all clicked. He went after the man, that horrible monster. You thought to yourself that it wasn’t at all necessary for him to go after him himself but understood that he felt far to much unnecessary guilt and that was how he knew to fix it. 

Not that you would ever approve of Simon being irrationally violent, you felt a weight you didn’t know you had become lifted off your shoulders knowing he had been delt with. He wasn’t proud of how he handled the situation, his head lowered in obviousness, but you knew that he needed to avenge your pains and that it could have been far worse.

‘Thank you, Simon.’ He looked up to you quickly, expecting a lecture of some kind on being unreasonable or not letting someone else handle it. He didn’t respond but instead took his good hand and interlocked it with yours and slowly closed his eyes, rubbing over your small hand taking a deep breath. He let out his breath as he smiled to you half opening his eyes. You then called for the nurse although Simon initially protested, one look from you and he had been silenced. The nurse came in to see his hand and let the doctor know to make his way in to decide what to do next.  

The doctor came into the room and assessed him hand carefully. To your surprise he didn’t ask Simon any questions but instead simply took him to get an X-Ray. About an hour later with a wrap around his hand, Simon made his way back into the room, plopping into his chair beside you. 

The rest of the day you both sat quietly, resting as the daylight streamed in through the windows and enjoyed a show together. You watched him as you looked from the TV, he was relaxed. Sitting in the chair with his feet on the other chair across from him, he was holding your hand from the side, his eyes watching the screen.

You knew that he would do just about anything and everything for you, and for that reason alone you knew to call him.

[istharoth]

In love with a 2-D Character?! Frostheim Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

↪ Jin Kamurai:

Has no interest in games whatsoever.

Only caught wind of the game because Kaito was crying about not getting his favourite character.

Out of curiosity (to bond with the Chaos Combo) he downloads the game. Lo and Behold, he finds himself playing as an Inspector attempting to cure his curse.

You don't catch his eye in the character selection screen, but he goes with you anyway because you're the first person he sees in the character selection.

When he sees you, sleeping on that sofa while his character is walking towards you, trying to wake you up, something shifts in his heart.

THEN, he goes on to find information about your story and other lore tidbits.

Finds out you play the piano and despairs because why tf are you not real?!

He gets every edition of you. R, SR, SSR, including your best equipment. He only pulls on your banners and spends money only for you.

Every other character in his roster is stuck at level 1 while every card of you is maxed out.

He doesn't go out of his house but whenever there's a convention that the fandom is going to be at, he goes outside.

Buys every single merch of you he finds his eyes on.

If there's an official event for you at a cafe or restaurant in another city, he won't go but he will pay others to go for him and ship him the additions you get from participating in the official event.

He has a fan account of you on twitter, retweets every art and fanfiction of you he finds. His home screen + lock screen + pfp will change every time he finds a new art piece of you.

↪Tohma Ishibashi

He's also on the list of wasn't interested in the game.

But Jin started playing it and all he could talk about was his favorite character so he gave the game the chance.

Immediately did not like Jin's favourite character. You didn't catch his eye, instead he went for another character.

When he first saw, suit and all, lifting that heavy-ass weapon, he realized he needed something he didn't have.

OH AND YOUR VOICE!?!?! The way you tease your younger classmen, even though it's an invasion of privacy, he's strangely attracted to you.

You're like a butler, and when he finds out you're not as smart as you look (this is literally just Tohma's character omg) he's going to buy a ring to propose to you.

AND YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH THE CHARACTER HE SELECTED?! Now he just has to wait for your banner to get you.

[He's one of those people who loves a character but they go years without obtaining that character.]

Literally makes edits of you with those same official pictures. He likes the characters that the company keeps in the basement.

HAS taken pictures with every cosplayer who cosplayed you.

Will correct everyone if they say something wrong about your lore. He will not see misinformation about you being spread around, nuh uh.

↪ Lucas Errant

Luca also isn't very much into games. He's focusing on his studies for now but when Kaito shows him a picture of you and his favourite character saying "Us, unfortunately" he downloads the game.

Selects the first character that pops up on the selection screen thinking he can change it later, he doesn't and he's going to lament it forever.

But luckily, he gets you on his first ten pull! You're his main now, every good piece of equipment he has will immediately go to you, though he's so guilty every time he takes a piece out from another character to give you.

When he sees you're a bit unhinged but very protective, he decides that he's going to make the best content for you, very wholesome content. He loves interacting with fanwork of you.

Is the nicest in your fandom. He's replying with those cute animals under every fanart of yours, like every fanart someone presses on, Luca's comment is already there.

Isn't too obsessive over you, you're just a character, he understands boundaries, he isn't too big on merch either.

But, he LOVES your voice actor's covers of about anything. Classical music goodbye, covers of songs by your voice actor is on repeat.

wants to attend your events so badly but he's a bit nervous about meeting so many people who also adore you.

↪ Kaito Fuji

...okay where do I begin.

He got the Frostheimers into the game in the first place.

Spent two whole hours deciding on who to select in the character selection screen. EVERYONE WAS TOO DAMN GOOD LOOKING.

But then he saw you in the prologue, you were stuck with his player character in a closet and you were so understanding of him!!

He fell bad right then and there.

Cue the regret of not selecting you for the selection screen.

every fanart on Twitter knows him, a few of them even blocked him because of his atrociously downbad comments about you.

his tweets about you belong in the hall of shame or fame, whatever you prefer.

Gambling? Gambling.

Maybe his bank called him one or two times telling him he didn't have money to spend.

Eventually had to borrow money from Romeo and even then failed to get you. His luck is bad irl and ingame, cut him some slack.

He loves you though, and spends his life daydreaming about you and his life together in a cottage in the woods, away from money-hungry debt collectors.

you know those people at kpop concert who bake sweets to give to people while they camp outside? Yeah, when there's an official event he goes around doing the same. He gets freebies of you for making cookies.

Next: [Vagastrom]

[theplottdump]

And we were about to meet him.

First | Next

Olive: We started doing this to help people. The second time my father died, I became obsessed with Death. So I decided to become a bridge- a tether between the lost and the living. Gideon: And this is where we came in- Marlee: The Specter Inspectors. Gideon: Three oddballs with a van. 🚙 Marlee: Some loose Ghost Hunting CC- Olive: And a Mission Statement. help the living and the dead.

Gideon: And we were good at it. Marlee: Are you kidding? We were the best. Olive: It's why she picked us. Why she sent you here too. We didn't know it then, but the Moreno House wasn't just a job. It was a test.

Gideon: There was a reason no one could clear that place. Marlee: Why every team sent before us had failed. Olive: Every soul has a journey. Every family has their secrets.

and there is only one thing worse than death.

[assuredhome]

What you need to know about mold.

What is mold and where is it found? Mold are tiny creatures that create spores and can be found virtually everywhere indoors and out. It grows on plants, food, and other organic matter. It needs moisture to grow, so address moisture issues quickly.

Mold exposure is unhealthy for everyone, but it is more dangerous for older people, babies, and immunocompromised people. It can cause respiratory difficulties like wheezing, nasal and sinus congestion, watery red eyes, mose and throat irritation, skin irritation, aches and pains, fevers, asthma, emphysema and in some cases even death.

You can be exposed to mold when moldy objects are damaged or disturbed and the spores are released into the air. Flooding, leaky roofs, humidifiers, wet basements or crawl spaces, plumbing leaks, house plants, steam from cooking, wet clothes and clothes dryers vented indoors can cause mold problems.

The mold Stachybotrys Chartarum is a greenish-black toxic mold with about 15 species that grows in areas where the relative humidity is above 55%. It colonizes well in high-cellulose material. This type of mold is thought to be a possible cause of the sick building syndrome.  Childrens’ exposure to Stachybotrys spores are thought most likely to cause pulmonary hemosiderosis (bleeding in the lungs) and can cause a wide array of symptoms such as respitory problems, nasal and sinus congestion, immune suppression, central nervous system problems and much more.  

To detect mold, we perform two types of tests, cartridge and swab tests. Cartridge tests indoor and outdoor air by pulling air into the cartridge where a sticky substance that traps the spores. The swab test collects samples of suspicious staining on a surface.

After our mold inspection, the mold laboratory typically returns a report within 3 business days. The report shows the type of mold discovered, if any, the level of concern, and information regarding the health risks and typical dangers. If mold is found, our inspectors recommend that a qualified remediation company determines what actions should be taken to properly address the issues.

Do you suspect you have mold? Suspicious about the property you’re about to buy? Schedule a mold inspection with AHI.

Read more

[archangeldyke-all]

hi hi hii sweetheart. Oh my lord. Your writing is literally so good, you honestly deserve the best, mind blowing, legs shaking, knees bucking, cant even talk orgasm. I'm so sorry. someone had to say ittttt. But I was wonderingggg😋 could you maybe do a drabble with reader and sevika are selling their house because maybe they have a little fucker on the way and they need more room, so they are goin through the house one last time and sevika starts js randomly naming out all her favorite times they have had sex in each place of the house...and she recalls like Hella details not even reader remembers. (Reader has pregnant mush-brain.) But could sevika be like..."wanna find a place we haven't fucked before..?" AND ITS LIKE THE HARDEST THING TO FIND BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY DONE IT EVERYDAY. But they end up finding a spot and sevika gives reader defo on the top 10 best sex they have had in that house. Could sevika maybe have a penis or even js her strap on in this...?:3 ANYWAY I WOULD LOVE THIS BUT IF YOU CANT DO IT ITS OKAY TOO!! I love you so so much your writings literally amazing!!!

this is so cute i love it!! (and thank u so much, i'm so glad u like my stuff eeek!!<3)

men and minors dni

you should probably be feeling a little more sentimental and sad about leaving behind the house you and sevika have been living in for seven years now.

these four walls have been your home through some of the best days of your life: meeting sevika, marrying sevika, realizing you're pregnant with sevika's baby-- it all happened here. you guys built your lives together here, and overtime, they became so intertwined and connected that you've become a 'we' rather than a 'me.'

but in all honesty-- you're thrilled to be leaving.

you hate this house. the floors are slanted, the roof is leaky, the windows aren't weatherproofed, so it's freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. you haven't been able to take a bath in the tub for three years now because there's cracks in the caulk and any water above an inch deep starts to flood the bathroom. it's a shitty house, and you've been wanting to leave for years.

sevika's always been the one to convince. it's not that she loves your house, it's that she doesn't want to put the effort into finding a new one. but, upon the two of you finding out that your family will be growing in a few short months, sevika finally relented.

and now, just ten minutes down the street from this place, you've bought a beautiful family home, big enough for the two of you, your future baby, and whatever other family members (both human and animal) that might spawn in the future.

your inspector gave it an A+, the yard is spacious, the floors are level, there's not just one, but three bathtubs,-- and the one in the main en-suite is like a hot tub-- big enough for you and your wife to fit and lounge. you're so fucking excited to move in, that you're not even a little sad to leave behind the old space.

sevika's been eyeing you with worry all day as she lugs boxes and furniture to the moving van. she's waiting for your pregnancy hormones to hit you and for you to become a blubbering mess at the thought of leaving behind your place. you can't blame her, your pregnancy hormones can and have turned you into a puddle of tears over much less. just last night you cried for thirty minutes because one of the celery stalks in the bunch you'd bought was wilted, and all his celery friends were still green and healthy, going on living without him.

but, really, you're fine.

she's not buying it.

"sevika, for the last fucking time, i'm okay!" you groan. the house is mostly empty now, just a few boxes and some lamps left. sevika's taking a snack break, one of her arms wrapped around you as she looks at you with concern.

"i'm just saying babe, we can't come back after tonight, so if you need any, like, sentimental pictures, or a good cry--"

"oh my god!" you laugh, elbowing her. "sevika, i'm okay, really. i'm so fucking excited to go, i'm so excited for our future. i'll cherish the memories this place gave us forever, but i don't really care about the place itself." you shrug.

sevika studies you carefully, and then she pouts a bit. "it doesn't make you a little sad?" she asks. you raise your eyebrow, surprised to hear your usually-so-stoic wife is feeling ...sentimental?

"what makes me sad?"

"babe, this house is the first place we ever fucked in!" she whines. you burst into laughter. sevika points to the empty bedroom behind her. "you're not sad to leave that room behind? after all the times i fucked you into incoherence in there?" she asks, her eyes wide and sparkly like she's actually a little emotional. you can't stop laughing as you reach up to cup your wife's cheek.

"honey, you're gonna be fucking me into incoherence for the rest of our lives." you remind her. sevika smiles a bit at this.

"yeah, but... we had so many good times in this house." she sighs wistfully. you chuckle, pecking her cheek.

"we did. remember when you dented the drywall with the headboard?" you ask. sevika giggles a bit, her gaze snapping back down to yours, her hand reaching around your body to start gently stroking your ever-growing belly.

"'course i remember, i had to plaster it back up myself." she chuckles. "remember when we almost started a fire when we were getting kinky with the wax?" she asks. you blink up at her, drawing a blank and pouting.

"no." you whine. "tell me, it sounds hot." you demand. your pregnancy's been blessedly healthy, but the one symptom that's hit you hard is your baby-brain. sometimes, you're just total mush in the head. sevika's been patient and kind each time. right now, she just smiles salaciously at you and presses you against the counter.

"you don't remember?" she asks. "our second anniversary, we wanted to try wax play? you got the special lotion candles and everything, wore those pretty lacy panties i ruined last year on your birthday, and i let you tie my hands up." you smile, the memory slowly coming back to you, heat building between your legs as she speaks. "anyways... it was goin' real good until i kicked over an unattended candle." she whispers.

you break into laughter-- the memory suddenly flooding back to you. "shit, i miss that blanket." you snort, remembering the way the comforter seemingly spontaneously combusted.

"you were screaming as you tried to pat out the fire, and i was tied to the fucking bed that was goin' up in flames-- i thought i was gonna fuckin' die." sevika cackles.

you snort, and kiss her cheek. "i saved you, though." you brag. she laughs.

"yeah, you did."

"c'mon, tell me another." you demand.

sevika raises an eyebrow. "another what?"

"another sex memory." you say. sevika giggles. "they're all fresh and new to me, i like remembering how fun and hot we are."

"hmm..." sevika thinks, her eyes darting around the house. she snatches your wrist and drags you to the bathroom. "i'm still pretty convinced i got you knocked up in here six months ago."

"which time?" you ask. sevika smirks, kissing your cheek and pinching your ass.

"exactly." she teases. you snort. "no, but for real, there was this one time-- i'd just finished my workout and you'd had a big glass of 'shower wine'" sevika puts this in air-quotes, teasing the habit you indulge in each night, "and i fucked you against the sink so good that you had to get right back in the shower once i was done with you. fuck, i came my fucking brains out, honey, i couldn't speak for like ten minutes afterwards." your thighs clench a bit at the memory, your stomach bursting into butterflies at the way sevika's voice has gotten all heavy. her eyes are dark when she looks over at you. "and then, boom. two weeks later you're pregnant." she says, grinning.

you giggle. "you think that was the one, huh?" you ask. she nods.

"what's your theory?"

"i always thought it happened when you fucked me on the couch while we were watching that stupid cop-buddy movie." you say. sevika laughs.

"so you remember that-- a lazy, unromantic fuck after a long weekend of both of us lounging and not showering-- but you don't remember the good ones?" she asks. you just giggle and shrug again.

"they're all good ones with you, baby." you say. sevika's teasing look melts away, something needier taking it's place. you know what she's going to ask for, so you speak before she can. "you think there's a place in the house we haven't fucked?" you ask.

sevika blinks, considering it for a second. "i dunno."

"i wouldn't wanna leave the house with a room un-fucked in, sev, that would be a real shame."

"fuck, it really would, wouldn't it?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"so?" you ask. "you think we've checked all the boxes or can you think of a place we might need to--"

"the attic. you think you can crawl up there in your state?" she inturrupts you, rubbing your stomach as she eyes the little hatch in the ceiling of the hall. you burst into laughter.

"the attic!?"

"c'mon!" she laughs, jumping up and grabbing the string, pulling the stairs down. "you go first, i'll catch you if you fall. she says, steadying your hips as she walks you up the first few steep steps. you can't stop laughing as your wife basically herds you up into the attic.

you've never been up here, execpt for the few times you've had to put a pot down during a rain storm to stop the leaks from coming down into your home. it's dingy and dusty, and you can't even stand up straight-- you have to crawl to the end of the small storage space so sevika can fit up beside you.

she seems just as disgruntled with her choice as you are, but she's determined to make it work, quickly stripping herself of her shirt and laying it down behind you as a blanket. you giggle. "lay down." she requests, holding the back of your head as you lower yourself down so you don't bonk it on any beams or bars.

you can't see her like this. you're flat on your back, and your stomach is huge. you don't know what she's planning, so it's a shock when sevika starts tugging at your pants.

you burst into giggles, lifting your hips up to help her. "what's your plan here, babe?" you ask as she starts kissing your bare legs.

she hums against your thigh, considering your question. she trails a hand up your thigh, teasing your cunt with a feather-light touch, before lifting her mouth from your leg to speak.

"'m gonna get you knocked up again." she says.

you burst into laughter, and you can see sevika lift up from between your legs to admire your smile. you grin down at her, and widen your legs. "give it your best shot, baby." you choke out between laughs.

sevika, grins, and then ducks back down to disappear beneath your tummy and bury her face in your cunt.

fuck, you're horny. the baby's been giving you crazy hormones, and while sometimes that means you can cry at sad celery, other times it means you're so insanely horny you could cum from a strong breeze.

"oh, fuck, baby!" you cry as sevika buries her tongue inside of you. she hums, reaching up to start working her fingers in the mix.

"gonna cum already?" she grunts before ducking back down and sucking your clit. you smack your hand against the dusty floor beneath you-- too round to reach down and tug her hair like you want to.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum all over your fuckin' face, sev." you whine, your brain turning to mush as you get closer. she groans against you at your words, and you take it as a sign to just let your mouth run. "'y feel so fuckin' good, 'y fuck me so good, shit, sevika, sev!" you scream as you cum.

before you can even ride out the first wave of your high, sevika's jumping on top of you to mount you so quickly that her head smacks against one of the low hanging beams in front of you.

you gasp-- still cumming and horrified at the loud "SMACK!" that rings out as you watch your wife's head collide with the beam-- then you burst into pitying, whiny giggles as sevika curses.

"shit!" she groans, reaching up to hold her forehead. you reach up to cup her face, laughing and shivering and somehow still cumming.

"are you okay?" you giggle, pulling her down to kiss the bruise already forming on her forehead. she grunts.

"i'm fine."

"liar." you giggle. you tilt her head from side to side, giving her pupils a good look as a half-assed concussion exam. "poor baby. need me to take you to the urgent care? see if you got a concussion?"

"i'm fine. just need to put my dick in you." she grunts.

you laugh, but shut your legs before she can sink into you. she huffs and glares up at you, and you pinch her chin. "remind me to check you out for real once we're done, okay?" you ask. she nods. you glare at her, knowing she won't. "sevika, you're my brain until the baby comes, i don't care if you don't want me to remember, you really gotta remind me. if you have a concussion and die because i let you fuck me instead of taking you to the hospital-- how am i supposed to explain that to the baby?" you ask.

sevika groans. "okay! okay! i know! ''re you gonna lemme fuck you or what?" she asks.

you pucker your lips, and sevika's annoyance melts as she swoops down to kiss you. you hum happily and open your legs, smiling up at your wife. "okay." you agree. sevika grins, and then she sinks into you with one smooth thrust.

you both gasp, your open mouths just a breath apart from each other as sevika starts to work her hips against yours. "fuck." you whine. sevika smirks down at you.

"fuck." she agrees.

your thighs are shaking-- her cock fills you up perfectly, like she's made for you, made for stretching you just right. each of her thrusts is accompanied by a wet smack, and you bury your face against sevika's shoulder in embarrassment as the wet sounds grow louder. she chuckles.

"you've been fuckin' leaky since i knocked you up. your cunt's so fuckin' needy, isn't it? already put a baby in it and it's just droolin' for more." she grunts against your ear. you cum the second the words leave her mouth, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you shake apart. sevika grins down at you. "fuck, it's so fuckin' cute how easy you are when you're carryin' my kid. i just put it in babe, you're already cumming?" she teases again.

you bite her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitches as you try to collect yourself, then hiking your leg up over her hips and gripping her hair in your hands. "it's your fault." you whimper as you try to catch your breath. "you knocked me up 'n now i'm fuckin' stupid and horny and-- and you feel so good." you whine.

sevika shivers on top of you, and you tug her hair harder.

"'m yours, baby." you whimper. "all yours."

that's the final nail in the coffin-- sevika screams a "fuck!" as she cums at your words. you grin, clenching around her cock and giggling at the way her arms nearly give out beneath her. "you're an evil woman." she sighs appreciatively. "i love you so much."

you laugh, and sevika ducks down to kiss your exposed neck. "'m your evil woman." sevika's dick makes one more feeble twitch inside of you at your words, the reminder that you're hers. you giggle in delight at the feeling.

"damn right you are." she mumbles, grinning.

you sigh as the euphoria of your orgasms wears off and the hard floor beneath you starts to kick in. "you might need to carry me back down the attic steps."

sevika bursts into giggles. "you might need to take me to the hospital. i can't tell if i'm seeing stars because i just came so hard or if it's a concussion."

you groan, and sevika muffles her giggles against your neck.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[inspectovausa123]

When purchasing a property, selecting the best Home Inspector is essential. It entails confirming their credentials, experience, and client testimonials and ensuring they offer thorough reports and are insured. To assist you in making an informed choice, take into account other factors such as their availability, the cost of the inspection, and whether they provide post-inspection support. Selecting the best Home Inspector is just one of many important considerations that come with buying a house, and it is an exciting process. A comprehensive home inspection is essential because it can uncover hidden problems that a normal walk-through would miss. Here's a quick guide to choosing a home inspector who will ensure you make an informed choice. Let's have a look at the discussion.

[amanhomeinspec]

montreal home inspections

montreal Home inspections to ensure that your investment is safe and sound. A home inspection can reveal hidden defects, potential hazards, and future problems that may affect the value and safety of your property. A home inspection can also help you negotiate a fair price, avoid costly surprises, and plan for repairs or renovations.

Contact Us:- Name - Aman Home Inspection Address - 131 Rue des Sittelles, Chateauguay , QC, J6K 0B7 Mobile - +1 5142940519 Website - https://amanhomeinspection.ca/

[teefsintheweb]

CONTAINMENT BREACH AU MASTERPOST

Hello! I am Teefs, an extraterrestrial creature on the internet.

My fondness for sci-fi and things like SCP have gotten mixed up with my obsession with FNAF, specifically, FNAF SB.

Containment Breach takes place in an alternate universe based on the world designed for a comic project I'm doing over at @remnantsofmatter . There's this unnamed 'facility' that focus on researching and containing anomalies and other worldly entities.

The facility is morally corrupt only seeing these creatures as things to use to gain power to remain at the top of the food chain if there would ever be an incomprehensible danger threatening Earth.

The characters are still being thought out but this is what we have so far:

The star of the au because he is my favorite guy ever is Glamrock Freddy! in this au he is an anthro bear who recently got hired by this unnamed facility as a lead in researching anomalies and other worldly entities.

Vanessa is an emotionally distant supervisor always putting pressure on Freddy, making her a figure he often tries to avoid due to her intimidating him and stressing him out into overworking himself, but he will remain respectful and polite.

Chica is a receptionist being kept in the dark about the legitimacy of her job, she's just there to smile at government inspectors and keep them from looking further into what the facility does. Chica is Freddy's best friend from childhood.

Roxy and Monty are guards working in the facility, the frontline responders if an entity breaks out of containment.

Monty often gets into conflict with Freddy, Freddy being very protective and caring to the entities and wanting them to be treated with gentle care- which Monty knows is unrealistic because he has had to chose between a lethal shot and his life. He knows [or strongly believes] that the entities are not as "human" as the staff in the facility, his priority is keeping everyone safe no matter what thing is attempting to rip out his throat.

Bonnie in this au was designed by @himbo-in-limbo . He's a janitor at this facility that avoids death by being the silliest goober ever. Monty may try setting him up by sending him to clean the containment unit of an extremely hostile entity only for Bonnie to walk out perfectly calm without a scratch.

more characters may be added and more detailed relationship dynamics as well!

This au was created in the Rockstar Row Discord server. Which then comes the most appealing part of this au I believe, the self inserts.

I have encouraged my friends who are part of the server to design their sona's/oc's into the au!!

This post being an example by Venbetta!

Essentially I have put together a doll house to the server and am inviting my friends to make dolls so we can all play together. I'm not sure whether or not I'm comfortable with people outside the server inserting themselves into the au. Smaller projects are much more manageable than suddenly a bunch of strangers flooding in from any corner.

we're all just playing dolls and so far everyone is playing nice, we're keeping it that way.

we're also very sick in the head when it comes to Researcher!Freddy. I have been mainly kept everyhting related to the au in the discord server but I guess I'll attempt to post about it.

[awriterinthenight]

"Aren't you a bit young to be a doctor" - Anthony Lockwood

requested: Anonymous

words: 2198

warnings: mentions of murder and being shot, and Anthony being absolutely crazy in love and kissing

summary: reader is a doctor with no abilities, who meets Lockwood one night, and they grow close together

I had always wanted to be a doctor, so I was more than happy to accept an internship helping out injured agents. My family was good friends with inspector Barnes so it wasn't hard for him to find a way for me to start practicing to be a doctor. It was relatively easy, mostly just patching up scrapes and cuts, sometimes small burns.

It was a fairly normal night, only one or two injured having to be treated, or at least it was until three agents walked in. They seemed to be in rough shape. They were all sent to different rooms to be treated, the girl only having minor scrapes, and the boy with glasses had a few cuts too.

The boy with the suit seemed to have the worst injuries. He had a cut down his left arm ending just before his elbow. I walked into the room, and started to grab some supplies.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Can you tell me what happened that you ended up getting a cut like that?" I ask, grabbing the rubbing alcohol and bandages.

He smiled softly, "Aren't you a bit young to be a doctor, not there's anything wring with that, I'm just curious," he says, "I got this from my colleague getting spooked by a ghost and when she swung her rapier she nicked my arm," he explains, placing his jacket next to him.

I nod, "Well I'm more of an intern, but I'm good at what I do I can assure you," I tell him, placing down my supplies, "And that looks a lot more severe than a small nick, can you take your shirt off?" I ask, since I need him to so I can clean his wound.

He smirks, "But we've only just met," he jokes sarcastically, as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his comment, "So what was your case about?" I ask, trying to distract him from the pain from the rubbing alcohol.

"Well we were investigating this house some old lady was living in. She said she was hearing wailing at night, and she wanted us to investigate," he says, wincing a bit, but I hum in response for him to carry on, "My other colleague, George, spent two days studying every bit of information, so we were thoroughly prepared. Or, at least we thought we were. Turns out we missed a death in all of our reports. There was a lady who was murdered there. Her spirit was attached to this jewelry box, which took us a while to find. This wasn't our best night, I have to admit," he says, chuckling lightly.

I finish cleaning his wound as he finishes his story, "Seems like you've had quite a night," I say, to which he nods, "Good news and a bit of bad news. Good news, your cut should be fine and not get infected, but bad news, you're gonna need stitches," I say, changing out my gloves for new ones and grabbing more supplies.

"And I thought today couldn't get any worse," he says, his voice full of sarcasm.

I sigh softly, "It won't be too bad, I promise," I reassure him, prepping the area, "Why don't you tell me something nice to distract yourself," I suggest to help him distract himself.

He smiles, saying, "You know I didn't tell you my name, it's Anthony, but you can just call me Lockwood," he says, watching me as I stitch his wound.

I nod, "That's a nice name, I'm guessing you're Anthony Lockwood," I say, continuing to work.

Surprised that I recognize his name he asks, "I know my agency had quite the reputation, but I didn't think you would recognize my name."

Working on the second stitch I say, "It's not that I recognize you from your agency's reputation, it's more from your own. My family is close with inspector Barnes, so he tells us stuff. He complains about you a lot, you know."

"I think deep down I'm one of his favorite people," he jokes, turning his head to look at the wound as I stitch it up.

I see him look, and use my left hand to push his chin, so he's looking away from it, "I can promise you that looking at it will only make it worse. Just keep talking, I'm almost done, just one stitch," I tell him, finishing up.

He looks like he's in thought before asking, "So Y/N, how do you take your tea?"

I chuckle softly, "Chamomile, with a bit of honey and sugar, why do you ask?" I question, as I finish up and start cleaning up.

He shrugs, "Incase I come here again, the least I can do is bring you tea," he says, smiling brightly at me.

"Well you're clear to go, and I do hope to not see you again, at least not here," I say, taking my gloves off, as he stands up and goes to leave. I follow out behind him as he keeps the door open for me, "Now for any pain, any over the counter pain meds should work, and make sure to rest. I'm serious about that, no cases for at least a week, and even then take it easy," I tell him.

He smirks, "Alright then Doc, I'll make sure to follow that," he says, walking away.

***

(Anthony's POV)

It had been almost a week since my visit with Y/N, but I kept thinking about her.

Everything about her was alluring. From our close proximity when she was bandaging my arm, to the way her hair fell, or even the way her face looked, concentrated on her work. My eyes stayed on her the whole time. It felt like I was stuck, but never wanted to leave that state. As if I were to look away I might never see her the same again.

I followed every word she said like it was bound to my soul. I stayed off cases for a little bit, shocking even George and Lucy, since they had tried many times before, but I never listened till now.

It had been about three weeks since I last saw her. When I went to get my stitches removed they told me she only works nights. So when I started to work cases again I wasn't purposefully getting hurt, or at least that's what I told everyone.

After a particular case I was left with a cut across my neck from a piece of glass. Luckily for me she was working that night, and I once again ended up getting my wound dressed by her.

She sighed, but couldn't hide her effortlessly soft smile that made me want to melt right there, "I thought I told you not to show up here again," she says, teasing me.

"I just couldn't stay away from you I guess," I say, trying to flirt with her a bit. She just shakes her head smiling 'god how I wish I could kiss that smile till her lips are sore' I think, before catching myself, and try to act normal.

She cleans my wound, her careful touch being the only thing I can feel, her being the only thing I can see, her perfume making me wish it was all I could smell for the rest of my life, her beautiful voice from heaven being the only thing I want to hear till my death. All I can think about is her.

I don't even notice when she finished, and is talking to me, "So you want- hey, are you listening to me," she teases, snapping me out of my trance.

"I-I...sorry, long night, started to zone out," I say, trying to cover up how I was looking at her. I think I'd rather die knowing she was the last person I saw, than to ever look away from her.

She breathed out a laugh, 'how I wish to be the one to make her laugh everyday' I think.

"Well what I was saying was that basic pain meds will work fine if it hurts, and to make sure to ice it, other than that you're free to go," she told, smiling as she opened the door. But before I could leave she grabbed my arm stopping me. Her touch felt like being blessed by a goddess.

"Let's not make your visits here a normal thing, ok. I don't need you getting hurt so often," she says, generally concerned for me.

I smile softly at her, "I promise, love," I say, giving her the nickname which makes her smile. I would call her 'love' 'darling' maybe even 'mine' one day, just see her smile like that till I can't remember her any other way.

I might've lied a bit when I promised her our visits wouldn't become normal. But I truly couldn't stay away from her. Every once in a while I would get injured and my first thought wasn't even 'am I ok' it was always 'I hope she's working today' and the thought would make me smile through the pain.

That was always my thought, except for once, when I got shot.

***

I heard what happened at the graveyard and immediately rushed to help out. I heard Anthony was there, but didn't see him making me a bit worried.

He started to let me call him Anthony, and I let him call me anything from 'love' to 'darling' to 'Doc' when he was teasing me. We'd grown close through our time together, and I couldn't help start to feel things for him.

I was tending to a Fittes agent when I was being dragged over to help with someone who apparently got shot. It was like a feeling no matter how hard I tried I couldn't shake. It was Anthony. He would be reckless enough to accidentally get shot, and he was always in some sort of trouble.

When I arrived to the ambulance I saw Anthony laying there as they tended to his shoulder. They took the bullet out and cleaned up the wound a bit. I stitched it close since I was the best at it. He started to wake up around when I had finished. Most of the workers had left, only one or two cleaning up the ambulance.

Anthony groaned in pain as he sat up. I helped him up, as he started to stand to get blood flow back through his body. We were silent for a little bit before I told him I was gonna grab a sling for him.

When I came back he was sitting on the edge of the ambulance. I stood in front of him, looming over him as I helped him get the sling on.

I took a deep breath, shaking my head before saying, "Anthony, how could you do this. I know how reckless you are, but this. This is a ne-" before he cuts me off.

"You can yell at me, you can berate me, you can say whatever you want till I'm in my grave, but please do so later. Right now I just want to be glad I'm here with you," he confesses, his hand moving to land on the back of my thigh to keep me in place as he moved me to be in between his legs.

I sigh, feeling content to know he's mostly ok, and is here able to hold me. "Alright then Anthony, I promise I will later," I say, running a hand through his hair.

He smiles up at me, "Tonight was...something else and it had me thinking. Life is a bit too short to not say everything you want to, you know," he says.

I nod, "Okay, where are you going with this, did you hit your head too," I joke, a bit nervous.

He shakes his head at me, "No, its just that," he pauses, looking at me like I'm the most precious person in the world, "There's so much I want to tell you. Like how I want to take you on the most amazing dates, or how I want you to be at Portland Row everyday, how I want to wake up to you right next to me, how I want to call you 'my darling' or 'my love' or anyway where your mine or where I'm yours. But, mostly I just want to tell you how much I love you, and want to kiss you right now," he confesses, flushed and breathing quickly.

I don't really know what to do besides following his words. I close the gap between us. My lips crash onto his with a passion that has been built up through our relationship. It takes everything in me to keep going till I have to pull away for air. But when I do I tell him, "I love you too Anthony, and I want to do all those things with you," I confess to him.

He smirks softly, "Then will you be my girlfriend too," he asks, hopeful in my answer.

"Of course," is all I mutter before my lips reconnect with his.

[maarigolds]

Lucy, Lockwood and George, after everything.

(show edition. I'm not going by book canon for this one, so don't worry about spoilers)

At 21 or 22, Lockwood is the first of them that starts to lose his talent.

Which makes sense, since he's the oldest. At the beginning he refuses to even acknowledge it, but Lucy and George figure out what's happening soon enough. For a while he's just ashamed and angry and sad all the time. Then it gets better: Lucy and George get him trough it. He also calls Kipps, and they talk for hours, both coming out of it feeling almost at peace (Kipps has gone back to school and is talking about wanting to become a teacher. Which Lockwood feels like should surprise him, but actually doesn't). 

Lucy is next. It breaks her heart a little (because of skull and all other type 3s) and it scares her a lot. But then she realizes how soothingly quiet the world can be at times, and lets herself think that maybe she will be alright. 

George is last. And the thing is, even though it saddens him to lose the one thing that connected him to ghosts, mainly he's relieved. He's been waiting for the other shoe to drop for a while, and now that it has, he's ready for whatever may come next.

The jobs get more and more rare as they hear, see and feel less and less. Lockwood knows he could hire new kids to replace them, but in truth he doesn't really want to. Perhaps Lockwood & Co. can be laid to rest at last: after all, they've already achieved more than he ever dreamt. So the next time a client calls, he informs her they've shut down and gives her the name of an up-and-coming independent agency he's heard great things about. He only feels mildly guilty about it. 

Even if they're technically not his employees anymore, George and Lucy stay. They don’t talk about it, but the idea of moving out of Portland row and living lives that aren't intrinsically intertwined feels wrong to all three of them: they're a family, after all, and nothing has to change about that.

Still, they need to make money somehow. So they muse about going far away from London, opening a bakery, living in a small house by the sea. But in the end they stay, both in the city and line of work they're used to. Because they do belong there, it's undeniable. George, of course, goes into ghost research and becomes a leading voice in the field, discovering new ways to help agents all over the country. No one is surprised, but everyone is proud. Lucy one day shows up at Barnes' office to ask him about becoming an inspector. It's the last thing either would have expected, but when he asks her why, she says it feels like the best place to be to help kids like her. To stop people like Jacobs. So he gives her a job. She's determined to change things from the inside. Barnes thinks that if someone could, it's her. And Lockwood... well, it takes a while for him to figure it out. But one evening Lucy comes home talking about a kid left deeply traumatized by a job gone wrong, and suddenly he knows. The next day he calls the bank to open up a pro bono clinic for agents and ex agents in need of psychological treatment. After less than a week they already have their first client. 

Slowly but steadily, it becomes their new normal. 

Lockwood sets up a study in the room on the stairs and works mainly from there. George, on the other hand, works at a lab in the City: he is the first to leave in the morning, but he always comes home soon enough to cook dinner. Lucy keeps slightly more irregular hours, and sometimes her job keeps her away for longer than she'd like. But then again she occasionally gets to come home to the adorable view of the boys fast asleep in front of the tv, so that's good.

One day Flo brings them a stray cat she found while working: they name him Donut and spoil him way too much.

Lucy starts gardening. George grows a magnificent beard (Lockwood is not jealous of it). The fridge breaks down and they have to buy a new one. Airf's son replaces him at the shop. They put up a hammock in the backyard, and spend their vacations piled into it. Mrs Burke from across the street knits them all hats for Christmas. Lockwood adds new framed articles on the walls and new knick-knacks on the bookshelves. 

He's not sure when, but one day 35 Portland Row stops being the home his parents left behind and becomes his home. Their home: his, and Lucy's, and George's (and Donut's. And Kipps' when he comes over for lunch on Sundays. And Flo's when she swings by using her own keys. And Barnes' when he stays for tea after long work days).

So they keep going as they have, day after day, year after year, slowly growing older. Wounds heal and scars fade. The sun shines through the kitchen windows on summer mornings. The smell of persian food fills the air every evening. Old rapiers get dusty in the umbrella stand. There aren't any ghosts between their walls, both real and metaphorical.

Everything is alright.