#paras manor

[parabuildtech]

Discover Luxurious Living at Paras Manor, Gurgaon

Paras Manor redefines modern luxury with its exclusive blend of elegance, comfort, and convenience in the heart of Gurgaon. Nestled in a premium location, this sophisticated residential project by Paras Buildtech offers a serene lifestyle surrounded by lush greenery, designed to provide an oasis away from the city’s hustle. Paras Manor boasts spacious layouts with state-of-the-art amenities, including dedicated clubhouse facilities, advanced security systems, and ample green spaces that foster a sense of tranquility and well-being.

Each residence in Paras Manor is crafted with high-quality finishes and meticulous attention to detail, offering an unparalleled lifestyle for discerning homeowners. From expansive balconies with scenic views to well-designed floor plans optimized for comfort and functionality, every element is thoughtfully designed to make Paras Manor a haven of elegance. With easy access to essential services, premier schools, and bustling retail zones, it’s the ideal choice for families seeking a balanced, fulfilling lifestyle.

Key Highlights:

Prime Location: Strategically situated for seamless connectivity to Gurgaon’s business districts.

World-Class Amenities: Includes fitness centers, swimming pools, landscaped gardens, and recreational areas.

Peaceful Environment: A gated community offering privacy, safety, and a peaceful ambiance.

Thoughtful Design: Luxurious interiors, spacious layouts, and expansive outdoor spaces for relaxation.

Choose Paras Manor for a refined, luxurious lifestyle that brings the best of urban living to your doorstep.

To know more ☎️ 91 9971449027 🌏 https://parasbuildtech.co.in/residential/paras-the-manor-gwal-pahari/

[luxury-residences]

Welcome to Paras The Manor, a premium high-rise project in Gwal Pahari, near Golf Course Road, Gurgaon. Enjoy stunning Aravalli views, lush greenery, and world-class amenities. With only two units per floor, this low-density project offers privacy and exclusivity. The 4BHK residences are three-sided open, with spacious glass balconies and luxurious interiors for a premium lifestyle. Experience luxury living at Paras The Manor, Gurgaon.

[realestaterg]

Paras manor phone number for Luxury Residence in Gurgaon

Paras Manor Luxury Apartment featuring 4 BHK apartments priced at ₹9.5 Cr. Paras Manor Gwal pahari Floor Plan covers 4750 sq.ft. and It comes equipped with a large lobby and private elevator for residents for more convenience and exclusivity. Located in Sector 2, Gwal Pahari, the property is ideally positioned just 10 minutes from Golf Course Road, 25 minutes from Indira Gandhi International Airport, and in close proximity to major roads like the Gurgaon-Faridabad Expressway. Paras manor masterplan includes extensive green spaces, a 70,000 sq.ft. clubhouse, EV charging stations, and state-of-the-art security systems. Designed with Vastu principles, Paras Manor ensures a harmonious and positive living environment. The low-density design, with only two units per floor, offers enhanced privacy. For more information or to inquire about availability and pricing, please contact Paras quartier phase 2 contact number available on our website.

[silvergladeslegacy]

Paras Manor 4 Bhk luxury property Sector 2 Gurugram

Paras Manor Sector 2 Gurugram, is the epitome of luxury living, offering meticulously designed 4 BHK residences that cater to the discerning tastes of modern homeowners. Each apartment is a masterpiece of contemporary architecture, featuring spacious layouts, premium finishes, and state-of-the-art amenities.Paras Manor Gwal Pahari Price for 4 Bhk apartments is kept at 9.4 cr and the Price of per Sq.ft 20,000.Residents of Paras Manor can enjoy an array of world-class facilities including a grand clubhouse, an infinity swimming pool, a fully-equipped fitness center, and beautifully landscaped gardens. Paras Manor New Launch  property also boasts advanced security systems and ample parking space.Paras Manor Gwal Pahari Location Strategically located in Sector 2, Gurugram, Paras Manor offers excellent connectivity to major business hubs, top-tier educational institutions, healthcare facilities, and entertainment options. This luxurious enclave promises a perfect blend of comfort, convenience, and sophistication for those seeking an upscale lifestyle.

[avengerup43]

[ale-rosa-paula]

Haunted Manor Enchanting Fantasy Music for writing and reading

[acircusfullofdemons]

Making PowerPoints abt my paras & paracosms my beloved <3 we have:

RoseWood Manor: A PowerPoint — abt this super fucked up and evil house.

The Crowley Family is Weird as Shit — abt this fucked up & evil family in MaaC.

I'm still working on the RoseWood Manor one, the Crowley one is finished but idk if I should post it here or on my maac blog (that....I never finished setting up whoops).

[gurgaonpropertyin]

Introducing Paras The Manor Luxury 4BHK Apartments in Gwal Pahari Sectoe 2, Gurgaon

Discover the epitome of luxury living at Paras The Manor, located in Sector 2, Gwal Pahari, Gurgaon. Spanning over 4.26 acres, this prestigious development by Paras Buildtech features two towering structures, each rising 33 floors high, and offers a limited collection of 120 exclusive units. Nestled along the scenic Gwal Pahadi Road, Paras The Manor redefines upscale living with its ultra-premium 4BHK residences, each equipped with a private lift lobby.

[acid-ixx]

I hope you don’t mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.

I’m talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isn’t private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them

I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! 🐊

omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sure—

you have more than just your family interested in taking you.

major spoilers below the cut. — an excerpt from chapter xx

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.

connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice you— that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.

if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.

the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.

[thewcllingtons]

i love how every time my replies get longer and longer and longer (:

[kamotecue]

the truth comes out ✬ m. leon

summary: after the twins were led inside the stadium, mapi learns of things she didn’t know.

(1) (2) and (3)

the twins were led to a room, there were chairs—vending machines, and a pool table. mapi fell behind the others, she still couldn’t get used to the fact that they are your children.

“¿supongo que tienes preguntas sobre nuestra madre? [i take it, you have questions about our mother?]” andres said, as mapi gave him a dazed look. astrid hummed at her brother’s nonchalant words but she agreed with him.

“¿por qué se fue? [why did she leave?]” was the first sentence that escaped the center-back’s lips. a small hum was heard from the prince.

“tenía su deber para con la corona y para con suecia. pero créeme, ella no quería dejarte. [she had her duty to the crown, and to sweden. but believe me, she didn’t want to leave you.]“ andres said, as astrid hummed at his words.

“¿ni siquiera un adiós al menos? [not even a goodbye at least?]” mapi said, as she glared at the wall, a little bit furious—the twins understood her position, and their mother’s as well.

“la corte real de suecia prohíbe a mi madre despedirse de ti. [the royal court of sweden forbid my mother to say goodbye to you.]” astrid said, frido tilted her head—all this spanish was getting to her.

“te etiquetaron como una distracción para la corona, por lo que le prohíben hablar contigo. [they labeled you as a distraction to the crown, so they forbid her from talking to you.]” astrid continued, as alexia furrowed her eyebrows.

“¿me amó ella? [did she love me?]” a soft smile was seen on both of the twins’s faces—as astrid gave mapi a small nod.

“ella te amaba demasiado, y una parte de mí cree que todavía lo hace. [she loved you too much, and a part of me believes that she still does.]” andres commented, clearing his throat.

the twins chuckled as they remembered that time, you were in the office doing works as usually as the twins decided to play hide and seek with their body guards.

they had managed to stumble across a room, it wasn’t dusty like most of the unoccupied rooms in the manor—it was maintained, not even a speck of dust was seen.

“cuando éramos pequeños, nos habíamos topado con esta habitación—estaba limpia a diferencia de algunas otras. había fotos, trofeos, medallas, pero lo que nos llamó la atención fueron dos camisetas colgadas. [when we were little, we had stumbled upon this room—it was clean unlike a few others. there were pictures, trophies, medals but what caught our eyes was two hanged jerseys.]” astrid said, as andres gave the center back a warm smile.

the twins had wandered a lot, but they never saw this. as they were looking through a photo album, seated on a bench—they didn’t notice their mother slip in. she had just finished her meetings and noticed the open door.

“los apellidos andersson y leon, las camisetas que llevabais cuando jugabais juntos. por no hablar de las fotos de los dos—en las que vi realmente feliz a mi madre. sus ojos sonreian, algo que no habiamos visto nunca. [the last names were andersson and leon, the jerseys you two wore when you played together. not to mention, the pictures of you two—where i truly saw my mom happy. her eyes were smiling, something we haven’t seen.]” andres continued

there was one picture stood out, it was the only one framed by itself—when you both won the finals in a club youth team, mapi held out the peace sign while you (jokingly) bit on your medal.

“hva gjør dere to her? [what are you two doing here?]” your voice rang as the twins frantically closed the photo album—they stood up as their eyes trailed to meet yours. you had both of your hands placed on your waist, as you looked at them sternly.

“vi lekte gjemsel. isak og agnes har ikke funnet oss ennå. [we were playing hide and seek, isak and agnes haven’t found us yet.]” andres explained, as the footsteps of the said guards were heard. they had entered the room, quickly bowing their heads as they noticed your mother.

“hvem er hun, mamma? [who is she, mom?]” astrid gestured to the girl in the photos, the one you loved so much—that it hurt when you left. a small sigh was heard as the queen gestured the two guards to stand by outside.

they gave another bow before isak followed agnes, the twins were then joined by their mother who sat between the two of them.

“hun heter maria, men jeg kalte henne maz. da jeg var liten, var jeg garantert at jeg aldri ville bli tronarving—så bestemor og bestefar lot meg studere i utlandet som utvekslingsstudent. [her name is maria, but i called her maz. when i was a child, i was guaranteed that i would never be eligible for the throne—so grandma and grandpa allowed me to study abroad as an exchange student.]”

you thought about how hard it was to get the approval to study abroad, unlike your four older siblings you weren’t revealed to the public—sure, they knew of your name, but they didn’t know how you looked like.

“hun var den første som tok kontakt med meg og ble min venn. jeg husker hvor overrasket hun ble da jeg snakket flytende spansk. [she was the first person to approach me and become my friend. i remember how surprised she was when i spoke spanish fluently.]” you had chuckled, as the twins turned to meet your eyes. they shined, a spark that they haven’t seen as much.

“hun er også grunnen til at jeg ville at du skulle få vite mer om spania, kulturen og språket deres. men ikke bare på grunn av henne, jeg ville at du skulle få kontakt med dem og finne ut hvorfor jeg forelsket meg i spania. [she’s also the reason why i wanted you to know more about spain, as well as their culture and language. but not just because of her, i wanted you to connect with them, and find out why i fell in love with spain.]” you hummed as astrid gave you a small smile.

“men det er mer? du elsket henne. [but there’s more? you loved her.]” andres said, as you chuckled at his words. he was absolutely correct, a clever child he is.

“jo, det gjorde jeg. i loved—love a girl who loved me first. [yes, i did.]” you watched their expressions, afraid that they would hate you—they knew of the community, but never expressed any hatred.

“da elsker jeg henne også. Hun gjorde deg lykkelig, ikke sant? [then i love her too, she made you happy didn’t she?]” as you nodded, tears were seen as astrid slowly wiped your tears.

“så er det det som betyr noe for oss, ikke at hun er jente - men at hun gjorde deg lykkelig. [then that’s what matters to us, not that she’s a girl—but she made you happy.]” andres continued, as astrid agreed with her twin.

“creo que fue entonces cuando supimos de usted por primera vez. gracias por hacer feliz a mi madre durante sus tiempos aqui. [i believe that was when we first found out about you. thank you for making my mother happy during her times here.]” astrid said, giving mapi a small bow—frido’s eyes widening in surprised. hell, she wasn’t the only one—the team looked at her in surprised as andres followed.

“y puedo ver por que se enamoro de españa, sobre todo de ti. tienes un corazon de oro, maria leon. [and i can see why she fell in love with spain, most importantly you. you have a heart of gold, maria leon.]” andres said, as his eyes looked at the doorway—where you stood.

“mamma! [mom!]” andres said, as agnes and isak bowed their heads. astrid ran while andres followed behind—quickly tackling your legs as you quietly grunted at the actions.

“hvordan visste du at vi var her? [how did you know we were here?]” andres asked, as you chuckled.

“dere dukket ikke opp til middagen, dere kom kanskje noen minutter for sent. men dere to var tydeligvis populære, de svenske barca-fansen har tvitret om dere to og samspillet dere hadde med laget. [you didn’t show up for dinner, might have been a few minutes late. but you two were apparently trending, the swedish barca fans have been tweeting about you two and the interaction that you had with the team.]” you softly explained as the twins let go of you.

your eyes met the team, but you had slowly locked eyes with the only one you fell in love with.

“ha pasado tiempo, maz. [it’s been a while, maz.]”

[luxury-residences]

Welcome to Paras The Manor, a premium high-rise project in Gwal Pahari, near Golf Course Road, Gurgaon. Enjoy stunning Aravalli views, lush greenery, and world-class amenities. With only two units per floor, this low-density project offers privacy and exclusivity. The 4BHK residences are three-sided open, with spacious glass balconies and luxurious interiors for a premium lifestyle. Experience luxury living at Paras The Manor, Gurgaon.

[ficthots]

2F

A/N: Josh is an annoying neighbor. Come on, we all know it's true. This is what it would be like to be his neighbor. If you're lucky. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ content only

Word Count: 8.2K+

Manors. You are taught them from an early age and if you are a gracious person, they stick with you throughout your adult life. Most people with common decency and respect for others can even mutter out a please and thank you on their worst days. These small things are ingrained in you from such earlier times that they truly become second nature at some point, simply transforming you into being a good person. 

The bigger person. A phrase you had heard since your mother first said it to you when you got in an argument with a school friend about them taking your Lincoln Logs without asking. Your mom had sat you down once you had gotten home from school that day and said while she understood how upsetting it could be, that you needed to try and see it from their point of view. Perhaps they didn’t realize you were using them or they thought you were done. Go back to school tomorrow, be the bigger person, and forgive them.

That mentality had followed you through life thereafter. You reconciled with your friend and were now able to apply that mentality to many petty disputes from then on out. However, being the bigger person is not always the best option. 

Take for example, your incredibly shitty neighbor that lives directly across the hall from you. That prick of a human being did not have a sensible or courteous bone in his body. It has been going on for months now. The incessant throb of a bass that jolts your walls and nearly knocks your favorite mugs from your shelves. A screeching of a voice that you cannot make out the words they are attempting to belt out, only offering a migraine. Starting near eight or nine every night and going well past midnight. 

After bitching to your mom on the phone for the millionth time, she suggested approaching them as kindly as possible. Let them know they are kind of disturbing the peace and move forward. The thought of crossing the hall and actually speaking to them for the first time ever had you on edge. 

You were going to try the friendly approach. Being a non confrontational person meant slipping an anonymous note under their door, a nice message and asking to keep it down attached to it. It did not work. A small bout of hopefulness spread through you as the music came to a halt that evening, letting the blood rushing in your ear to cease for only a blissful minute before starting right back up.

Being the bigger person. You had tried that. Attempting to see it from their point of view. There is a chance they did not realize how loud they were actually being. Offering a peaceful chance for them to quiet down, letting their neighbors think again. That was the entire purpose of the note. No embarrassing or awkward conversations between strangers. You truly thought it would work and they would realize their actions were actually quite rude and attempt to be a better neighbor.

Nope. Nada. Zilch. 

Whoever they were picked it right back up. A small, frustrated yelp left your throat. You were shocked that they had so blatantly ignored the pleas from their desperate neighbors. Was it too much to ask that after a long day at work to come home, watch trashy television, or simply read a book in quiet solace? No, it was not. 

And whoever was living across the hall was fucking that up. You didn’t even know their name. Only knowing them by the marking next to their door. 2F. You had never even seen them either, working opposite schedules obviously. Sometimes it seemed like they were gone sporadically for weeks at a time, signaling their arrival once again by the vibrating floors. 

You had reached a breaking point one night. What had been occasional night time music thundering in the building had seemingly turned into a near twenty-four seven parade. You attempted to ignore it to the best of your ability, even making yourself a nice cocktail after a rough day at work. 

It felt like you couldn’t escape it. Far too chilly to enjoy your patio, you wandered through the rooms of your apartment, trying to find any break you could from the incessant noise that seemed to follow you like a shadow of death. 

They had been home for weeks now, more than likely unemployed you assumed by the constant, never ending noise streaming from their home to yours. At first it had been the same as it normally was, annoying, but at least you were used to it. Until you woke up one morning to it. After that, it seemed to never stop. 

This particularly shitty day had you on edge, wanting to come home and soak in the tub, read a smutty novel about a mafia boss forcing an arranged marriage, and then fall asleep a tad bit tipsy. You were already working on the latter of your wants, second mixed drink in your hand and nearing its end. 

It was a Friday afterall. 

Your plans had come to a screeching halt when you arrived home and you could literally see their door slightly shaking. “Be the bigger person,” you whispered out, hand clutching your door knob and entering your own apartment. You tried. Truly you did.

As you had called it quits on the alcohol for the evening you knew you needed to get some food in your system or it was going to become a sloppy night. You made dinner, sat down to enjoy it, trying your hardest to tune out the high pitched wailing crossing the hall that was forcing its way into your space.

But when you missed what one housewife had said to another during a heated argument in Bali you had reached your limit. Feeling more confident with the liquor still in your system, you were nervous to approach them, but it needed to be done. It was time to teach the douchebag some manners.

Slamming your bowl down on your coffee table, standing from your sofa, and walking across the small hall to their front door, your fist connected with the wood, pounding on it repeatedly until the mystery person opened it. 

A curly, almost mohawk of a style sat atop his head. Some sort of beads swayed with his movement, moving across his bare chest, sweats hung low on his hips, his bare feet crossed as he leaned on the door. A large smile greeting you displaying the complete opposite emotion you were currently feeling. “Hi there!” He spoke loudly, excited and eager to speak to you. 

“Do you understand how loud you are? It has been months of listening to this every single-” you were nervous, trying to get your trembling hands to stop the shake, but he cut you off as you started your tirade. “You’re the note!” His smile somehow grew bigger, reaching behind him and grabbing the piece of paper from what you assumed was an entryway table behind the door. 

You nodded, starting back up, irritated that he had interrupted you whilst speaking. How incredibly rude. This kid seriously had no idea what manners were.“Yes and I tried being nice about it, but you obviously don’t seem to comprehend that you live in an apartment meaning you share walls-,” his eyebrows furrowed at your wording, the tip of his tongue poking out from behind his teeth. 

“We don’t share walls.” He had cut you off. Again. Your nostrils flared slightly at that, using that observation as your point of reference. “Exactly. We don’t share walls and yet mine are vibrating every day because of your music that you’re blasting. You can’t even pause it for a conversation!” A laugh escaped you at the end, arms crossing in disbelief at this guy. 

He rolled his eyes, smile never leaving his features as he grabbed his phone and hit pause. You took in a deep breath, already feeling the tension releasing. “It’s late, I got home from a crappy day at work, all I want to do is get some sleep and I cannot do that with you blasting whatever it is you listen to. Honestly, it sounds like the same song over and over which I mean power to you if that’s what you like to do, but please, just turn it down.” He hummed at your response, opening his notes app as you spoke. 

“Sounds the same,” he mumbled, typing that into the note. His eyes darted up to meet yours after he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Did you say you were going to bed? It’s 9:30, grandma.” You gasped in surprise at his harsh judgment. “Listen,” he leaned to the side to see around you and squinted his eyes, “3F. You seem to be the only person that has a problem with this. I actually share walls with 1F there and they have never complained. Seems to be a you problem,” your jaw hung slack at his words. 

You narrowed your eyes to slits as you stared at him. “Just keep it down, asshole.” His eyes went wider, a scoff of a laugh billowing from his lips. “Ouch, 3F. That wasn’t very nice.” You turned on your heels, entering your apartment and slamming the door behind you. 

The music started right back up. The same song on repeat for the remainder of the night. You weren’t sure when it ended, deciding to sleep with your duvet entirely covering your head, but you knew it carried on late. You could tell by the endless tossing and turning all night. When you looked in the mirror the next morning, the deep bags that sat under your eyes confirmed it. 

You hated him.

Sitting at a dimly lit table in a dimly lit restaurant with your best friend meant you were struggling to view the menu. She grabbed it from your hands, putting them on the table and smiled at you. “Don’t worry, I know what we’re ordering.” As she quickly spewed your order to the server, you sat enjoying the low chatter and jazz music that flowed through the room. 

See, this was a respectable level of volume. 2F should take notes. Your eyes darted open as she slapped her hands on the table top. “What’s up with you? You look exhausted,” she sipped from her cocktail as she eyed you. “Wow, thank you, that’s exactly what I needed to hear today,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and tearing it apart, stuffing it into your mouth. 

Her laugh echoed in the space, kicking you lightly under the table. “You know what I mean! Seriously, what’s up?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you chewed. “My shitty neighbor won’t stop playing his shitty music through all hours of the night. Last night was the second week in a row of it.” She nodded in response, checking her phone as she intently listened to you. 

Ha ha. 

“Report him. It’s a lease violation. Email your property manager and it’ll stop literally that day. Look at Shelby, can you believe she’s pregnant?” She leaned across the table, shoving her phone in your face, but all you could think of was how great of an idea it was. 

As she spent the rest of her evening gossiping with you hardly contributing to the conversation, you drafted out an incredibly detailed email to send to your property manager. 2F was going to shut the fuck up. He was going to be told to. By someone other than you. 

You sent the email the next morning, listing all of the hours that the music had been playing and how incredibly disruptive it was even after you had asked him to keep it down. You received a response within an hour saying that they were going to handle it. 

Entirely unsure how long you had been perched on a barstool next to your front door, offering a great view of your peephole, you felt giddy. Were you waiting to see if he was going to be getting the violation? Absolutely, and you were doing so with a drink in your hand, occasionally peeking into the hallway to see if it was happening yet. 

When your property manager appeared, you scooted the chair away from the door, too excited to sit, instead standing with either hand on the door, eye glued to the small view of the scene playing out in front of you. 

Watching through your peephole you sensed victory as a lease violation was, in fact, handed off to him. You cheered, a tad bit too loud, because once the noise escaped you, his eyes darted across the hall setting sights on your door. 

Your hand clamped down on your mouth, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When he knocked, your eyes went wide. Pretend you’re not home, you thought to yourself. “3F, I know you’re home. I literally just heard you,” your eyes squeezed shut, muttering a silent fuck. 

Opening the door, his fuming gaze met yours. “Hi, happy hump day to you. What can I do for you?” You gave a large smile, happy to finally feel in control of the situation as he held up the paper. 

“A lease violation. Seriously? You know this is a $145 fine, right?” You shrugged, acting as uninterested as possible, motioning your head down the hall to the other lone door on this hallway. “Don’t know. Maybe 1F got tired of it. Anyways, not my problem, but you have a great night.” A look skirted across his face that said do you really think I’m buying that before he spoke up, again.

“You know if you had asked nicely I would have gladly been more accommodating-” you cut him off, holding a hand up as you did. “Oh, I did! You chose to ignore it!” He shook his head, a small chuckle falling from him. “No, you did not. Slipping an anonymous note under my door, demanding that I be more quiet is not a friendly way of handling the situation.” 

You stood staring at him in astonishment. That’s not what you had done. The note was very well thought out and precise in how you worded your request. Did you include the specific rule from the lease? Sure, but how else was he supposed to know it was against the rules? 

He started back up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, now you’ve asked for it.” Your brows drew together, scoffing in response. “Look dude, all I want is to come home and relax after a day of work. You ruin that,” he shrugged at your words. “And that noise is my work.” 

You couldn’t contain the gut punching laugh that fell from you at the absurd claim. “You’re telling me that being loud is your job?” He nodded his head, bottom lip lightly pushing out as he did. “You haven’t even asked my name 3F,” your arms crossed over your chest. “Because I’m not interested in knowing it. 2F suffices.”

His head slightly tilted at you, emotions displaying as he thought. It was like he was trying to figure you out. More than likely trying to figure out all the possible ways to piss you off. “Well, I would like to know yours.” You shake your head, deciding to end this conversation, stepping back into your home and closing the door with a no thanks being offered to him in return. 

2F had said now you’ve asked for it. What the hell did he mean by that? That’s what all of your thoughts had been about since you had closed the door in his face. It had been a little over a week since that day and despite the normal abhorrent noise, nothing else had happened.

Until you received a knock on your door.

Confused because you weren’t expecting anyone, you opened the door, a large smile gracing your face as you saw your property manager there, he offered a sad smile as he took you in. “Hi, Mr. Jameson! How’re you?” He sighed, a folded paper in his hands as he looked at his shoes. 

“Great and I’m sorry to be doing this, but I have to give you this and advise you to heed it well.” Your face must have displayed how muddled you were feeling because he sighed again, turning and walking down the hall. 

You opened it right there, crumpling it in your hand and storming across the hall, banging on his door as you did. When he pulled it open, his head had a tilt and a smirk on his stupid smug face. “3F! What brings you to my neck of the woods this fine evening?” You shoved the paper in his face, knowing he couldn’t read it because of the state it was in and the close location to his face, but you didn’t care.

“Disorderly conduct of a neighbor! Are you joking? This is literally what you do every single day,” he tsked at you, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did. “No, that’s what you do. According to the lease you are not to pester and harass your neighbors which,” he looked back up at you from his screen, “is exactly what you’re doing right now.”

You huffed, feeling anger coursing through your veins as you stared at the devilish little man. “I am not harassing you!” He sighed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he did. “I mean, you are. The note, the first interaction, storming over here and pounding on my door, that’s harassment 3F.” 

He couldn’t contain the laughter being held in his throat as he saw how irritated and befuddled you were. “You are such a dick.” You mumbled out, going back to your own apartment. Not only had he cost you your sanity, but actual money. Paper currency. He wasn’t going to get away with this. 

Absolutely not. For the next two weeks the noise never ceased. You kept your distance though, not particularly fond of getting another lease violation charge added to your account. Instead, you took another route. 

Being the bigger person, of course. You frosted the last cupcake, smiling at how uniform they all appeared. It was your olive branch. You were known for your baking, every holiday season you were asked to bring some form of baked goods. It was relaxing and a sort of therapy to you. 

As you knocked on the door, it opened with a woosh of air and you offered a kind smile to him. The kindest one you had yet. The tray was balanced on both your hands, a dozen cupcakes sat on it, and you could see he was taken aback by the offering. 

“Look, I apologize. I am the type of person who prefers ambiance and low volume noise compared to blasting whatever it is you play. Everyone has their preferences, I get it. Here is my peace offering.” You handed the tray over to him, pointing to one that sat in the middle. 

“Eat that one first, it’s my special recipe that everyone raves about. I don’t make it for just anyone so enjoy it.” He was dumbfounded, standing there holding the tray, speechless for the first time since you had met him. “Thank you!” He called out as you shut the door behind you.

The son of a bitch didn’t even attempt to apologize. Instead, he just took the damn cupcakes without even so much as the beginning of an apology. That’s why you didn’t feel bad. Not in the slightest. 

When he appeared at your door the next morning as you were leaving for work, you were surprised to see him up. Well, not that surprising. “You fucking poisoned me!”  You rolled your eyes, locking your door and adjusting the bag on your shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It was a little miralax in the one singular cupcake,” you checked the watch on your wrist and began walking down the hallway, calling out to him as you did. “Oops, I’m going to be late and I wouldn’t want to harass you anymore. Have a good one, 2F!” A cackle bounced off the walls as he groaned, running back into his apartment as you sauntered off. 

Okay, maybe you did feel bad. In your defense, the jackass deserved it. He couldn’t be nice to his neighbors despite their numerous attempts so you had to do what you had to do. Should you have put a laxative in the cupcake? Debatable. 

But you couldn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on it. You did what you did and screw being the bigger person. Not with him at least. You were a good person. A kind person. He just seemingly brought out the worst in you for some reason. 

All you wanted to do was slap that stupid smug look off his face that always seemed to be there. Expressing your anger in the form of violence sounded especially intriguing on a Sunday evening as you heard the remnants of a party happening across the hall. You were snuggled into bed, ready to call it for the night when you realized that it wasn’t just the normal throbbing of music he offered, but a plethora of voices shouting as well.

You honestly could have burst into tears on the spot. You had work early in the morning, not wanting to deal with the shit storm that this work week was going to be offering you, and he was over there being the most assholey asshole that you had ever encountered. 

Remembering your christmas gift from your best friend had been a state of the art pair of noise canceling headphones meant you were running to put them on and they had been your savor that night. Uncomfortable to sleep with, of course, but at least you could sleep. 

The work day was exactly what you had been expecting. Wanting nothing more than to come home and spend the evening trying to destress was halted as you rounded the corner for your door.

Bile rose in your throat as you approached your front door. Your hand went over your mouth, the stench of garbage flowing from the hall. A tremor appeared in your hand as anger surged in you, never having felt such animosity before in your life. Both of your fists pounded on his doors until he appeared, extremely hungover, but munching on an apple like he didn’t have a care in the world at the moment.

You pointed to the piles of trash that sat blocking your door, a fire dancing in your eyes as you stared at him, speaking through clenched teeth. “Get your fucking garbage off of my door. Now,” he looked around you, seeing the piles of trash and shrugged.

“Not my trash, 3F.” You didn’t have the energy for these games tonight. “Move your fucking trash. I know it’s yours. I know you had a fucking party on a goddamn Sunday. It is yours. Move it.” He was entirely unfazed, shaking his head as he took the last bite of his apple. 

“Like I said. Not my trash. Have a good night,” your mouth hung open as you watched him toss the apple core onto the bags of trash sitting at your doorstep. It took you almost an hour to get all of the tash bags moved to the trash shoot. 

After that night, you didn’t retaliate. He carried on in his normal irritating ways, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. The headphones constantly rested on your scalp now, never leaving anymore. You connected the television to them, played your own enjoyable music, or just sat in the quiet. They were an actual god send. 

Work had been driving you up the wall, no problems could seemingly be handled without you and it was driving you mad. You enjoyed being good at your job, knowing you were succeeding and that people turned to you for answers to issues and questions was rewarding, but it seemed now that it was more about everyone turning to you for any little thing they could.

It’s why your best friend suggested going out one night to relieve the stress and tension from the work week. You jumped at the opportunity, going to your favorite bar and wanting to enjoy spending some time out and about, allowing yourself to think about anything other than the two most annoying things in your life right now.

Work and 2F.

You were standing at the bar, ready to order your first of what would be many drinks for the evening when you heard it. His voice. He had saddled up beside you, eliciting a groan to fall from your lips. “If it isn’t my favorite neighbor! What brings you out? I thought you hated enjoying things? It’s quite loud in here, are you going to report it?” You rolled your eyes, opting to ignore him and catch the attention of the bartender. 

“Two Moscow Mules!” You shouted out, seeing him nod as you went to hand over your card, 2F spoke up. “Put all her and her friends drinks on my tab. Thanks, bud!” You shot daggers at him, shaking your head and going to hand the card over anyways. 

“Absolutely not! Here’s my card,” his hand came over yours, pushing your hand back, a large smile taking over his features. “I insist! Especially after that hefty lease violation fine. It’s on me!” He turned and walked away towards his own group as you were handed your two drinks, fuming as you walked back towards her. 

She giggled, nudging her head in the direction he had gone in. “Who the hell was that? He’s fucking hot! I hope you keep tabs on him for the night,” you let a forced shiver roll down your spine, gagging as she spoke. “That’s my fucking neighbor from hell! The little goblin put our drinks on his tab. How stupid is that shit?” 

She choked on her drink, coughing as she laughed. “No fucking shit! Oh my god I had no idea he looked like that. If he were my neighbor he would be making all the noise he wanted to. Particularly at my place. In my bed! And I think he has the same idea because he bought your drinks,” she batted her eyelashes at you as she sipped her drink again. You waved her off, downing your drink.

“You’re disgusting! We’re not like that. At all!” She shrugged pointing in his direction. “Oh really? Then why is he staring at you like he wants to take you into the dingiest bathroom he can find and rail you?” Your face burned at her words, letting your eyes glance in the direction he was in and noticing his eyes locked on you. 

You set your drink down, moving back towards the bar once you noticed that his attention was back on his group, back turned towards you. Getting the bartender's attention you leaned over and handed him your card. “That guy over there? Put his drinks and his group drinks on this card, don’t charge his card,” he nodded his head, taking the card and taking another drink order for you. 

Sporadically throughout the night, you could feel eyes on you. You knew exactly who it was. Why he couldn’t keep his own attention on his own group instead of eyeing you all night, you had no idea, but it was starting to get beyond annoying. He had, quite literally, the largest eyes you had ever seen so it wasn’t like he could hide where he was looking. Not like he was trying to either. 

The night had been fun apart from your own personal stalker. Many laughs were shared between friends, one drink too many, but as the night wound down and you went to collect your card, the bartender assured you that 2F’s tab had been charged to your card. With your friend having slipped out a bit ago, you sat on a stool at one end of the bar, watching as 2F’s group left, having him head to the bar and collect his card.

You laughed seeing his face show one of confusion after being told his tab had been taken care of for the night. You watched as he mouthed who and as the bartender pointed at you, his head whipped towards your direction. You gave a wave, hopping from your stool and leaving the bar. 

When you got home, you fumbled with your keys as you tried to unlock your door. “3F!” You sighed, turning in defeat as you heard his voice echo in the hallway. “Yes, 2F?” He walked towards you, hands in his jacket pockets as he stood in front of you. His hand came from the pocket and your eyes went wide as you saw the amount of money he placed in your hand. 

You shook your head, trying to shove it back in his own hand. “That’s for picking up my tab at the bar, your tab at the bar, a cleaning service to come and clean your apartment for me placing the trash bags at your door, and for the lease violation.” Your jaw hung slack, not able to formulate any words, eyes looking up to meet his and see the soft gaze that sat on his face. 

“Oh my god, no. I can’t accept this. Take it, 2F.” He shook his head, putting his hands back in his pockets. A small laugh fell from his lips as he eyed you. “Josh. My name is Josh,” shaking your head, your eyes shut, an exasperated breath leaving you. 

“I don’t want your money, Josh. That is absolutely the last thing I want or need from you,” he took a step back as you tried to shove it at him. Your jaw set, irritation bubbling in your system at how stupid he was being. In what world would you just accept a huge chunk of cash like this? There wasn’t a world where it would happen. You wouldn’t. 

Instead you stepped around him with a shrug, hearing his laugh as you crouched down. “What are you doing?” One by one you slipped the bills under his door. “I told you I’m not taking your money.” You could hear the frustrated intake of breath as you continued with your task, not noticing when he stood to the side of you, unlocking his door and opening it.

Your neck fell back to peer up at him with a scowl on your face. You weren’t even halfway through with the stack of money. Reaching your arm up and forward, you hand grabbed onto the cool metal of the door handle and yanked it towards you, shutting the door as you two stared at one another. 

Letting your head fall back so your eyes could once again focus on the task you were trying to work on, you heard him let out a shaky laugh. “You are so fucking stubborn,” you only mumbled out a response, almost done with the cash when he crouched down to your level, locking your eyes to his. 

When you turned your head to face him, your noses nearly brushed against one another with how close he was to you. The smell of tequila was on his breath, you were sure yours had faint notes of vodka and ginger beer, but you were rooted to your spot. Not necessarily making any move to lean away from him or go further towards the man. 

His dark brown eyes had an almost ombre effect, you noted. Unlike most people who had the lighter hue near their iris, the eye growing darker the closer to the edge you got, his did the opposite. They were so dark near his iris that the chocolate practically melted into it. The outer color only got slightly warmer, only noticeable from this closeness. You could get lost in them for hours if you had the time to. Prick. 

The cupid's bow of his lips were not sharp, rather they rounded off at the top peaks, only marginally dipping down to give the plush skin a break. One thing you had taken into account upon the many interactions you had with him was that they were never chapped. Quite the opposite. Always glistening like he had just swiped his pink tongue along them. The picturesque teeth that you could have sworn were veneers from farther away, but upon closer inspection were his actual chompers. Bastard. 

A perfect nose. You were envious of it. What man needed a nose like that? Entirely unfair, you noted to yourself. He had some of the unruliest eyebrows you had ever laid your eyes on, but for some reason it worked. The unkempt hair paired well with the faux curls that were always a permed out mess. Why did you like it so much then? Asshole. 

While you took stock of who was taking up your personal space, he was doing the same. Reveling in the closeness to you. How your kneecap would knock against his every few moments, the hollowed out divet in the base of your neck as you took in stabilizing breaths, the flutter of your eyelids as you were attempting to process the situation you two were in. 

Josh took the opportunity that was being presented to him on a silver platter, knowing there was not going to be a better chance than now to act on this. The feeling of enamorment he had been reeling in since he had first set his eyes on you all those months ago. Trying to decide how to approach you, but when you approached him he was elated. Until the ridiculous feud began between you two. 

He was going to bridge the gap. Leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, hand cradling the soft skin of your jaw, lightly pulling you closer to him. You didn’t fight it. Not in the slightest. Instead, savoring it. How the feeling of him moving against you seemed to set you alight. Tingling from either the amount of time you had been crouched down or the nerves erupting in you with joy. Excitement. Yearning. 

You moved to deepen this. Letting your mouth fall open in greeting to him to explore you, learn you, relish you. When the tip of his tongue accosted yours, the noise that ruptured from within you was a mixture of a sigh and moan, feeling the heavenly encounter for the first time was unlike anything you had ever experienced before in your life. If you could have it bottled up to revisit whenever you wanted to or needed to, you would. 

2F took it as a welcoming invitation to continue on. A sense of relief washed over him, knowing you were indulging in this, accepting this, trembling for this just as much as he was. He wanted to chase you back to him when you retreated, breath stuttering in your throat, almost pained to come to a stop, even if just for a second. 

Your eyes opened, meeting his and you stood, taking his hand with yours and moving back towards your door, silently asking him to come with you. He followed instantaneously, swallowing thickly as you turned to open the door and lead him into your home. The sanctuary he had been destroying for months.

His hands found home on your waist, tilting your head to the side as he pressed himself against your back, the warmth of his breath fanned across the skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He wasn’t rushing, skilled hands knowing exactly what to do despite the slight tremor giving away the nerves that played at him despite his calm demeanor. 

As his mouth worked your pulse point, your hands sat on his, lightly squeezing as your breathing grew deeper. Uneven. Josh turned you around in his grasp, you wasted no time, letting your fingers card through his hair as his arms encircled you. 

His scent was intoxicating, something that made your head swim and cloud over with pure arousal. The feel of his facial hair running along your smooth skin had you pining. Your tongues danced in a rehearsed manner despite never having mingled before, but it felt known. Comfortable. Soothing. 

Despite your pleas and desperate noises, Josh pulled away from you. His hands moved to cup your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet. “I’m not going to fuck you without knowing your name.” You swallowed slowly, his thumb skirting across your lower lip as you whispered it out.

He repeated it, eyes shut as he let it settle. You had never felt more one way than the other about your name, but as soon as it was graced from leaving his lips, you never wanted to hear another person say it again unless it was coming from him. 

Josh’s hands had lost their unsure hesitancy, moving to the underside of your shirt with poise and steadiness. His fingertips gripped and removed it, letting you two reconnect once more, not wanting to lose the contact again.

The pure temperature of his body was setting you on fire, your skins nearly sizzling as they pressed against each other. As Josh made his ascent from your mouth towards your chest, leaving peppered kisses along the way, your mind was reeling.

Unable to form coherent thoughts, any chance of intelligent sentences thrown out the window as he took a perched nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the perked bud. 

Your breath caught in your throat, back arching into his chest. A smile played at his occupied lips, his free hand traveling from the curve of your waist to your abandoned breast. As his teeth held your nipple, his fingers twisted the other, eliciting strong moans to release from the confines of you.

When he switched, he didn’t give you even a nanosecond to catch your breath, continuing his motions. “Pl-please, Josh.” His doe eyes peered up at you, hooded with lust and a fire burning in them as he heard you moan his name for the first time. 

“What, baby? What do you need me to do?” Instinctively, your legs widened further, the small cloth covering your core dampened beyond belief, signaling your need for him. Wanting nothing more than for him to touch you. 

He shook his head, grabbing your chin in between his fingers, making you look at him. His voice was deeper, a gravelly tone accompanying it. “I need to hear your words, sweet girl.” 

Your head fell back, arms crossing over your face as you decided how bluntly you wanted to put this. Deciding you simply did not care, you groaned out, “Touch me, use me, demolish me. I don’t care, just please, fuck me, Josh.” 

Those seemed to be the magic words because in the blink of an eye your panties were gone, lost in the heap of discarded clothes, and your core felt his cold hands. 

Gasping, eyes shooting open to watch this happen, his fingertips moved your lips. The sticky signs of your excitement stretched as he lightly traced his hands around you. “God, look at you. You’re a fucking mess,” his words came out under his breath and his thumb slipped in the slick, gathering it and bringing it to his lips. 

As he sucked the digit into his mouth, your jaw slightly fell open. Watching Josh do this, act like this was mesmerizing. It was an entirely new side to him and it made you desperate for him. 

Josh moved behind you, letting your confusion become evident as he smiled. He leaned back against your headboard, pulling you to lay in between his legs. As your back met his chest, your head against his shoulder and neck, his cheek against your forehead, you were alight in anticipation.

“Relax, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you,” his legs hooked around your own, forcing them to remain open. His fingers reached down, collecting your wetness once again, bringing it to his mouth. “I will never get tired of that taste.”

Too entranced in the display of him, you didn’t notice when his hand had disappeared down again, but when you felt his thumb press against your clit, a small, surprised yelp left you. A permanent smirk was on his lips, memorizing your reactions and movements for the first time.

Given how thoroughly soaked you were, when Josh’s middle finger slipped into your entrance it was met with no resistance. It offered a sense of relief, not near enough to satisfy the craving you were begging for. 

Slowly moving his finger in and out, hearing the mess you were making on his finger, he quickly added another. As soon as the other entered you, he picked up his pace. Incoherent mumbling and moans tumbled from your lips as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your release.

Josh offered words of praise as a silent scream escaped you, white light clogging your vision. You were contracting around his fingers, not wanting him to remove them, but it wasn’t enough. 

You were incredibly needy for more. Turning around in his grasp, your hands landed on either of his thighs. Reaching your hand out, you cupped his stiff cock, gently squeezing, and pulling his head towards yours. 

The sensation of his lips finding yours once again was palpable relief. You straddled him, having him remain where he originally was. The head of his cock rubbed against your slit, whimpers falling from both of your lips. 

Letting yourself sink down onto him, your eyes remained shut, head falling back as you took him all. Josh’s arms closed around you, crushing you to his chest. Slowly starting to move, the stretched sensation began to subside, immense pleasure taking over. 

His thrusts met your moves, both of you crying into the other's mouth, against their sweat covered skin, becoming one with each other. He alternated between leaving searing marks on your chest or neck, capturing your mouth, or uttering filthy words of encouragement. 

The two of you were close to your finishes, chasing your highs, your hands tangled in his locks and pulling as you felt it crash into you at a blinding pace. Gasping for breath, his cum leaking out of you and back onto his still hard shaft, you two leisurely came down from your highs.

You didn’t make a move first, letting Josh kiss all over your skin, licking the sweat away that poured from you both. Your eyes didn’t want to open, too heavy with exhaustion to even try. He moved you off of his lap, wiping you clean with a towel, and kissing your forehead as you felt asleep. 

When he left that night, you weren’t entirely sure what the next move was. Were things different? Absolutely. Was he still the prick that had been purposely fucking your life over for the last few months? Undoubtedly. Was he so attractive that your mouth went dry when you replayed certain aspects from the night before over in your mind? Unfortunately. 

The actual peace offering. The real olive branch. The non-poisonous ones that is. They were sitting on a tray, perfectly frosted, sitting in the shape of a large smiley face. Now, there could be the possibility that just the sight of cupcakes could cause a visceral reaction, but you were going to take your bets. 

Until the music started up. 

Your head snapped up and in the direction of his apartment. Wide eyes, jaw set, and shoulders tensing at the unbelievably loud music. It didn’t even sound like the normal noise, instead like there was a concert happening a mere fifteen feet away from you. 

Closing your eyes and forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you crossed the hall, tray in hand as you knocked on his door. There wasn’t an answer at first, so you knocked again, hearing a slew of voices on the other side of the wood. Maybe now wasn’t the time to do this if he had people over. 

When he didn’t answer on the second knock you quickly turned, feeling your face warm in embarrassment. His door flew open, your name escaping his lips to get your attention. You cursed to yourself, turning back around and offering a sheepish smile. His grew exponentially when he saw what you had in hand. 

You thrusted the tray towards him, trying not to peer behind him and see an audience watching this exchange. “For you. An actual I’m sorry for everything. Not spiked, promise,” you laughed at the end, doing the scouts honor salute. Before he could respond, someone who looked just like him appeared at the door.

The man’s eyes widened, a large beaming grin plastering on his features. “Oh my god, are you 3F?” A surprised expression took over your features, eyes darting between the two of them. Why did this stranger know who you were? Another figure appeared with the pair, startling you as he seemed to appear from thin air. He looked like the two, but stood a few inches taller than them.

“No way, 3F? We have heard so much about you!” The apples of Josh’s cheeks flushed red as he turned and handed the tray to the taller boy, speaking through clenched teeth as he did. “How about you shut the fuck up and go stuff these in your fat fucking hole, yeah?” You giggled at the exaggerated wink the boy offered him, taking the offering and looking back to you. 

“Well, it was a real pleasure getting to meet you 3F. I do hope my brother has learned your actual name, but he has no game so,” Josh cut him off, shoving him inside and slamming the door behind the laughing pair. 

His hands rubbed over his face, the tips of his ears burning like his face. “I am so sorry about them,” his thumb pointed over his shoulder in the direction where they had gone. You gently nudged him, wanting to egg him on. “Telling people about me, Josh?” 

Watching his eyes go wide and hearing him stutter over his words was far too entertaining. “Oh, no, no. I mean I mentioned some of the stuff to them and look they’re my little brothers so it’s like their thing to make my life as awkward as possible, like you should see some of the band interviews with them doing this shit-” you cut him off, eyebrows furrowing at his words. 

“You’re in a band?” He took in a short breath, head bobbing in response. “Greta Van Fleet. That’s what we’re called. That’s what the noise is that you’ve been subjected to for the last few months. It’s our new album and I get spurts of ideas at random times,” you nodded, finally beginning to understand his point of view. 

You eyed him, arms crossing. “Should’ve told me that. Maybe this all could have been avoided.” It was time. Time to be the bigger person.

Josh stood next to the table, dressed in a suit that perfectly encapsulated the entire being and existence that he is. The microphone in his hand, a glass of champagne in the other, speaking out to the guests in attendance. 

It was his incredibly long winded speech that everyone had been anticipating. The man did not know when to stop talking, but as his tale was about to wrap up, his eyes fell to you, sitting next to him. “Anyways, I’m not entirely sure what that story of Danny, Sam, and the giraffe have to do with this, but-” laughter flowed around the room at his tangent, your eyes filled with love and adoration as he held your gaze, “I am so glad my plan of being a complete neighbor from hell worked because I truly didn’t know how else to talk to you. I saw you when I was moving in and felt like the gods had sent you to change the entire directory of my life. You are my everything, my entire life, and I cannot wait to craft the rest of our story together.” 

You weren’t sure if you should have been happy or down right pissed, but as his co-best men all stood, raising their glasses, you wanted to table it. “To Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka!” The cheers erupted around the room, sipping from your glass and letting your husband lightly peck your lips before taking his seat.

“So your entire plan was being the biggest pain in the ass you could and hoping you would land me that way?” You leaned into his side as he beamed at you, leaning further towards you, lips landing on your cheek. “Yes, and it worked, my darling girl,” you rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your glass as he snickered in your ear, your giggles mixing with his as you watched his twin begin prepping for his turn.

Jake stood dead center of the room, microphone in hand as he began his speech. “Hello all. I want to say a quick congratulations to my brother and his wife. If there’s anything anyones ever been told it’s about being the bigger person. That’s not the case tonight. Joshy boy, strap in.  Now, everyone knows my brother peed the bed until he was eleven years old.” 

[thearchmanofgreenfield]

TWHUTH LORE: The House on No 9, Allison Street

Description:

Located in Demonum Borough, the House on No 9, Allison Street is the current home of the Great House of Demon. It sits on the very center of Allison Street, being the only real house on the road with the every other house being a hollow facade. On the exterior, the house looks like a thin four story building with an elevated door and arched windows. On the interior, the house is a seven story manor comprised on several halls, lounges and other rooms. The house and the street first began construction in 485 AF and completed construction is 493 AF. Making the house and the street 141 years old as of the year 634 AF.

While the exact method which was used to create the house's odd dimensions is unknown it is thought that the house's exterior is a mere shell meant to act as a gateway to the real house which is contained in a plain of reality between the Mirror and the normal world known as Gray Space. And while records dating back to the house's construction are limited it is almost certain that it's creation involved the use of ancient Moorish magic thought to date back to the Days of the Woodland Folk in the Era Before the Flight (see: Introduction I)

History:

(Note: The following information is being abridged and para-phrased from the tome 'The History of House Demon' by Harwood Demon (528- 588 AF), Chapter 12: Allison's House)

The House on No 9 was first designed by the Lady Allison Demon, Baronette of Demonum (462- 539 AF). Lady Allison was the youngest sibling in the household of her father, Baron Walden Demon (433-484 AF). Having grown up in the ancestral Demon Estate on Sepalsworth Hill near the back end of Demonum her time there came to an abrupt end on the year 484 AF when, due to an ongoing conflict with the Order of Man, the Sepalsworth Estate was set ablaze on the night of 171st Day of 484. The event, known as the Torching of Old Sepalsworth lead to the deaths of the Baron Walden and his heir-apparent Henmilton Demon (457-484). Allison and her other old sibling, Darwin Demon (459- 531), survived. Following the fire and the ascension of Darwin as Baron of Demonum Allison was said to have officially begun the designing of the House on 485 AF at the age of 23 when she was stationed at the Demon's country Estate of Northmount Manor in the Baronies. Allison had been known for her incredible knowledge on the mathematical precision of structures her imagination when it came to shaping said objects having declined an invitation from the Order of the Intelligencia (see: The Organization of the Circle) years prior.

It is said Allison would spend 8.5 years constructing the house and the street with some tales implying she used secret Moorish Flame magic she had learned during either her stay at the ancient manor in Northmount or her time as a student with access to the secret archives of the College. But whatever the case, her goal had been for the street and the surrounding buildings to act as an unassuming cover in order to hide the house from future misfortune. The street would also ward away Hunters due to it not being listed as an official street under the Hatlynshire Government (see: Introduction II). Her brother would have the street named in her honor and the Demon Family would begin residing in it in the year 493. It has served as the official residence of the House of Demon ever since.

Footnotes: honestly at first I thought 141 years seemed like a pretty low number in terms of house age. But then I realized that by modern house standards that is positively ancient. And yes, according to the math Allison would be Lucian's great-great-great grandaunt. And yes I'll be incorporating more specific dates onto lore posts that take place after the Flight.

Anyways, any question? If so then please feel free to ask! Any other lore you'd like to know? Also feel free to ask. Thanks and cheerio! :D

Story -> They Who Hide Under Top Hats (TWHUTH)-on tumblr

Art -> BEST MEDIOCRE SKETCHES: SHOWCASE POST

Community -> TUMBLR COMMUNITY

MORE Art -> MORE EXPRESSION PRACTICE

(@harleyacoincidence)

[acircusfullofdemons]

been seeing a lot of magical girl ocs lately and its making me wanna revive/redo Life After Death aka my technical magical girl paracosm...hm...

[akiss-from-a-rose]

Self-Para the night of Aaliyah's attack that fades into...

Closed starter for @cantfightmoonlight (Meena) Where: Outside Meena's Manor

Even though Aaliyah knew that Meena had plenty of booze, she wanted to bring over her own bottle instead, an older vintage she'd carried with her for years, now, before she was Aaliyah Rose, even. It was a bottle of champagne that had been rescued from a shipwreck, of all things. She'd bought two bottles on a whim using someone else's money and drank the first bottle in the midst of a rather bloody bender, but she'd carried the second with her all this years after being so pleased with the first. She thought it might be nice enough to share, and it was nicer to have someone to share things with. It had been enough to make her go back to her apartment to retrieve it on the way over.

Aaliyah parked her bike and began the walk to Meena's door, humming as she went. Now, here's the thing about old vampires; they're rather hard to sneak up on. She knew someone was there far before they made any attempt to harm her. The misfortune on Aaliyah's part, tragically, was that she was expecting a blow. Tragically, her assailant was just a little bit smarter than that.

As Aaliyah whipped around, something wet and stinging splashed in her face, the acrid sweet stench of vervain overwhelming Aaliyah's senses. Instinctively, she covered her face, trying to wipe the liquid away from her eyes as she got tackled to the ground. She dropped the bottle of champagne, and, in that moment, that was truly the most annoying thing in the world to her. "Son of a bitch," she snarled, her fangs long and ready to snap. She really hated the thought of making a mess on Meena's lawn, but some things just couldn't be helped.

She couldn't see or smell well, but Aaliyah's hearing was just fine. She struck out in the direction of her assailant, satisfied at the sound of pain they emitted as her fist made contact with their jaw. But she was distracted and annoyed, and this wasn't her attacker's first rodeo. She wasn't the oldest vampire to be attacked in front of this house, and look what had happened to him.

Something sharp slid into her skin like a knife to butter, pinning her abdomen to the ground. Wood. It was long and wooden, and, god, it hurt. It was so fucking unexpected. Aaliyah thought there'd be a few more punches, some kicks, maybe a bit more vervain as a distraction. Her hands fought against the one's holding the stake, but it dug in deeper, all the way to the grass under her. She felt like a bug in a glass case, pinned and waiting to be examined.

Or cut open.

"This is going to hurt," a voice rasped in her ear, and the figure looming above her was still blurry in her vervain stained eyes. "Try not to struggle." There was the vervain, more of it poured over her face, trickling into her eyes and nose and mouth. Aaliyah sputtered, unable to cry out loudly as it burned her throat. Her strength was drained with it, her hands clawing uselessly at thick clothing as she attempted to push them away. But she couldn't. Of course she couldn't.

A stake to the abdomen is a nuisance; it won't kill, just irritate and annoy. The best way to kill a vampire is a stake to the chest. Aaliyah knew this, had feared it most of her life. She'd never been truly staked. She'd never thought it would happen to her, not after almost three hundred years.

But a second stake joined the first, this one sharp like a blade and splintered around the edges as it cut through her shirt, exposing her chest. To kill her quick, it would have been slipped between or under her ribs and into her heart. But this wasn't about quick. This was about slow, agonizing pain, wretched and lasting. This was about carving in and opening up.

In the torment of it all, unable to really cry out, Aaliyah was struck with the startling revelation that even dying hadn't been this painful. Even having her fangs ripped out, which had been excruciating, hadn't been this painful, nor had the constant ache of regrowing them. No, nothing was as painful as her chest being opened by a sharpened piece of wood, her body so wracked with it that she couldn't even lift her arms to fight her assailant off. Her flesh was torn, her ribs broken, all in an effort to expose her heart from the cavity of her chest, each new, stuttering beat of it exposed to fresh night air in a way it was never supposed to be.

Hearts were never supposed to be exposed. It beat so wetly, each thud of it echoing in her ear. She'd ripped out people's hearts before, but she'd never done this. She'd never heard a heart beat so loudly outside the body. Aaliyah's heart was still in her chest, but only just

She felt fingers wrap around her it and squeeze, and Aaliyah couldn't help the tears that sprung to her eyes, the pathetic, feeble sound that left her lips. One tug, and it'd be over. Someone literally held her heart in their hands, and they had no intention of being gentle with it. "Are you afraid?" she heard. "Because you should be."

The stake in her stomach was removed, no longer necessary to pin her to the ground. Aaliyah was too weak to fight back, blood gurgling up in her throat and leaking from the giant, gaping wound that used to be her chest. Hands went underneath her arms, and she felt her body being dragged back towards the house. She coughed blood again as she was pulled over the steps to the door, gasping for breath. Something paper was placed in her hand, loosely gripped between her fingers, the doorbell was rang, and without another word, Aaliyah was dropped on the doorstep with a thud.

She felt like a cadaver that had been opened up to be studied, or a dead animal dropped off by a cat in front of someone's door, her insides exposed, her body broken. She couldn't really manage to feel any sort of shame that she'd been overwhelmed, any kind of embarrassment that she'd lost the upperhand yet again. She could barely feel anything at all that wasn't pain, endless and gripping and very, very real.