#patio doors sale

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Whatever this 1960 thing in Running Springs, CA is, it has a pending sale. 2bds, 1ba, 784 sq. ft. $250k. We have to see what it looks like inside.

Entering the front door. OK, so here we see the sweeping ceilings matching the roof lines. Neat how they got a carpet to match the shapes & colors. Looks like a kitchen counter to the left of the entrance.

They've got a TV there, but no chairs in front of it. Is that a cut-out square in the entrance and a step up? That's weird.

Cute little retro fireplace in the corner, but I don't see any seating, if this is supposed to be the living room.

Looking at the space from the kitchen, there doesn't appear to be much room for anything. This sink strikes me as odd- is that a drain on top?

So, this is the kitchen. Dated.

The standard, preferred oak cabinets of the period, laminate counters, no dishwasher. This would be adorable if it was upgraded.

Since there's only room for 2 chairs at the counter, maybe the space where you come thru the door is meant for a table. Kind of odd that they put the sink there, instead of by the window.

Maybe this room is meant to be the living room, then. There isn't a whole wall and it looks like they also have a portable screen. This home is confusing.

Okay, so this must be the living room with access to the deck.

Then this would be the primary bedroom. Nice, if you like angular spaces.

The bath has cool gray fixtures. Too bad they couldn't get a toilet seat to match.

Plus, a fiberglass tub unit.

The patio isn't very wide and features a large shed.

The shed appears to be raised. There's no garage, but lots of room for parking.

The yard is fenced, but needs work, b/c it's just dirt, and there's also a smaller shed.

The 7,182 sq ft lot appears to go uphill.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

THE NECESSITY OF BROOMSTICKS

rio vidal x reader, 938 words

you compromise on halloween decorations with your witch girlfriend. silly stupid halloween fluff w no depth just witches because WHERE are the fluff fics for agatha all along.

Rio looks at the sign with distaste. “What the fuck is witches’ brew?”

You look at the sign you’re hanging in the kitchen, Fresh Witches’ Brew, and smile. It’s decorative, you bought it while you were out today, one of the many Halloween decorations you found to put around the house. “It’s… you know. Potions. Spells. Cauldrons.”

She tilts her head. “No one uses cauldrons anymore.”

You roll your eyes, stepping back from the sign. It matches well with your home, it adds a playful touch you suspect you need in sharing a home with Death. Rio is obviously displeased, though, standing with her arms crossed as she glares up at your decor. She’s always hated the way witches are portrayed in the media this time of year — pointy hats and bubbling cauldrons and, as you love to point out, riding on brooms.

‘I rode on a broom once,’ she reminded you furiously the other day when you had brought home a new throw pillow with a stereotypical green witch with her pointy hat riding on a broom. ‘It was necessity.’

“I bought something else,” you tell her and reach for your bag of decor. She puts on an uninterested expression, but cranes her neck to look over into your bag. This time, you pull out new coffee mugs. Hocus Pocus, they read, in giant orange lettering. You hand Rio one of the mugs.

“Oh,” she looks down at the mug and then up at you — it’s on the tip of her tongue, a remark about how witches aren’t like Hocus Pocus movie witches, but instead she places it on the kitchen counter and with an obligatory smile she thanks you. She gravitates close to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and watching intently as you sort through the rest of your decor.

“I think I’ll go out today and get some decorations, too,” Rio announces and presses a quick kiss to your cheek — you expect to see a black lipstick stain when you next glance in the mirror. She stands up a little straighter, watching you with unwavering resolve. It sounds unnatural and dry when she says, “You’ve put me in the Halloween spirit.”

You nod, though you’re a bit hesitant. She hardly celebrates Halloween like you do — she’s more ancient than your commercialized celebrations, she views them as silly and meaningless compared to those of past centuries. It’s a night that was once viewed with much more reverence, a night that was respected with the severity it demands. Nonetheless, you’re curious as to what she will come up with to use for decorations — it’s hard to envision her trekking through the store for a scarecrow fit for the front porch.

•••

As you are putting up the last of your decorations, Rio comes in through the front door. She hauls something behind her, dragging it in through the door and propping it up on the couch: a life-sized plastic skeleton. Her gaze flits between you and it as she interprets your reaction, and you see the sense of achievement she holds.

“He was on sale,” Rio says, “so I got him some friends. They’re out on the patio sitting around that big cauldron you bought. I covered them in fake blood and drove one of my knives through one of their rib cages.”

Though inanimate, the look the skeleton on your couch wears on its bony face reflects Rio’s excitement. It’s charming, and you can only imagine the way the others she bought look sitting around your witches’ cauldron out on the patio. The vision has a smile pulling at you, and Rio’s pride in her purchases only seems to grow.

“I love him,” you nod to the skeleton on the couch. “Are you going to put him with the others?”

“No,” she digs around in a bag she brought in and pulls out a horror clown mask. “He gets to be a dead clown. You get your witch hats, I get my dead things.”

It’s a compromise you are willing to settle on for her. You know your days of traveling through the house at night for a glass of water have been ripped away until the skeleton is stored for next Halloween, but it’s a fair exchange if it means Rio will be more content in the face of your stereotyped witch decorations.

Rio slips the clown mask onto the skeleton and steps back to examine her work. She pulls out a dagger she keeps on her — you’ve told her that it is unnecessary to carry around knives constantly, but she never listens — and hands it to you. She nods to the skeleton. “Do the honors?”

“What, incriminate myself with clown murder?”

Rio nods enthusiastically. You approach the skeleton, and in a swift motion you drive the dagger into his chest.

“Beautiful,” Rio takes your hand when you come back to stand at her side. She pulls you close, and she leans in to kiss you before she stops and pulls away.

“What are you doing?” You ask, but Rio doesn’t respond, just disappears into the kitchen. “Rio?”

When she comes back, she holds your Witches’ Brew sign. She places it beside the skeleton and together you view the new addition to your seasonal decor.

“There,” Rio says. “Now it’s how it should be.”

A dead murderous clown selling witches’ brew on your couch — an addition to your household that you never would have suspected necessary, but one that makes your fall celebrations feel complete. Now Rio kisses you, peppering your face in more black lipstick stains, love outstanding the transience of autumn.

[ms-demeanor]

But. Like. The lady who ran the newspaper expected me to work 20 hour shifts to get pages turned atound for production and let that columnist keep touching me even after i told her it made me uncomfortable and paid me minimum wage with deposits that were sometimes weeks late. She fired me by simply stopping sending me pages and never communicated that I didn't have a job anymore and I had to send large Bastard to collect the last four hundred dollars she owed me.

Coffee shop dude was directly abusive while mostly acting like a nice guy and if you called him out on his shit or asked not to be scheduled with people who problems for you, he punished you by cutting your hours. He *also* engaged in wage theft, insisting that all employees had to complete their closing tasks in 20 minutes or risk having their hours cut, so you just clocked out for your last hour of work. I had a coworker there who literally died of exhaustion (passed out, hit his head, aspirated vomit) as he mopped the floor while clocked out on his twelfth day in a row of work. He was twenty-two. Before I got too injured to keep working there, we closed together six nights a week. He liked to clean to the gladiator soundtrack and he wanted to be a director.

The gun shop had us clock out before the managers did the count, and nobody could leave until the guns were tallied; we closed at 9 and there were multiple days that i was locked in there until 1 with no pay and no food while the managers failed to find their ass with both hands. I watched as my coworkers (and some of my managers) *repeatedly* went out of their way to complete straw sales for white people while trying to prevent black and chicano customers from buying guns.

The first coffee shop was run by people laundering cocaine money from their club. We all joked that the severance package was half your last paycheck and a kick in the ass because they never fully paid anyone they fired and they banned you from the ship for a length of time that was proportional to what they owed you. They stiffed me forty bucks and i got banned for a week, there was a guy who was banned for life and they owed him over nine thousand dollars for several months that he was the only employee and worked the shop for eighteen hours a day. They paid less than minimum wage, they paid under the table, and when the manager smashed out the patio door in a fit of pique, they didn't explain shit and left us to deal with explaining the "break in" to the cops.

IDK maybe bosses are just bad.

[whoops-all-jennas]

Past Lives pt. 1

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: Wednesday transfers to Nevermore Academy and is your new roommate

a/n: I have decided that for a majority of the spells I'm just gonna take them from Harry Potter because I have a majority of those spells memorized lol (less work for me)

You're sat at your desk, studying a book about healing charms, while Enid is pacing back and forth through the center of the room.

Your dorm room was interesting. It is shaped like a short T, the entrance being where the lines cross. Each section has a big circular window that opens to a patio.

Your section, the section in the middle, is decorated with fake vines and string lights. Your night stand has a lantern on it next to your phone charger.

Enid's section matches her personality, bright and cheerful. She has tinted film over her window that illuminate her already colorful room.

The center of the room has a circular sunroof which Enid also managed to get the tint on.

"Enid, you're gonna burn a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that." You say without lifting your eyes away from your book.

"You heard what they say about her!" She stops pacing, looking at you with worry written on her face. "I really don't want to die in this school."

You look up from your book, making eye contact with Enid. "I don't think Principal Weems would allow a murderer into the school."

You stand to go comfort Enid, interrupted by the sound of people talking behind your dorm room.

As if they were waiting for the perfect moment to enter the room, the door opens, revealing a gothic family and Principal Weems. A girl with black hair braided on both sides of her head down past her shoulders stands between what you assume are her parents.

That must be our new roommate.

Enid turns around with a smile plastered on her face while you stand there idly.

Enid approaches Wednesday with new found excitement over the fact of getting a new roommate.

"Howdy roomie!" Enid exclaims, Wednesday stunned by her energy.

"Wednesday, this is Enid Sinclair." Principal Weems gestures her hand towards Enid before moving it to you. "And this is y/n y/l/n."

You stand where you are awkwardly, raising a hand in a wave.

Wednesday's eyesight lingers on you a little too long before she's interrupted.

"Are you okay? you look a little, pale." Enid says, her face shifting from excitement to worry.

"Wednesday always looks half dead." The man you assume to be Wednesday's dad answers for her.

Enid let's out a noise of acknowledgement before continuing.

"Welcome to Ophelia Hall!" Enid announces before opening her arms to embrace Wednesday.

Wednesday takes a step back to avoid her touch.

"Not a hugger, got it."

"Wednesday is allergic to color." The tall woman with dark hair says, her voice is naturally seductive.

You watch on, fidgeting with your foot. You assume it's exaggeration.

"Oh gosh, what happens to you?"

"I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones." She has a very monotone voice, it's suits her dark aesthetic.

"Luckily, we've special ordered you a uniform." Your eyes slightly widen, focusing on Weems. She was serious?

You feel Wednesday's eyes on you for a moment, did you do something?

"Enid, y/n, take Wednesday to the registers office to pick it up along with a copy of her schedule." Principal Weems says looking at each of you.

"And give her a tour along the way."

Wednesday turns around, scowling at her parents before leaving the room. Enid skipping, following Wednesday out of the room with you taking a quick couple of steps to catch up.

-

"Nevermore was founded in 1791 to educate people like us. Outcasts, freaks, monsters. Fill in your favorite marginalized group here."

You're following along while Enid carries the tour, descending down a staircase.

"You can save the sanitized sales pitch, I don't plan on staying here long."

Enid stops walking, causing Wednesday to stop and turn to her. "Why not?"

"This was my parents idea." Wednesday looks towards a trophy case as she stares at a picture with her mother on the fencing team.

"Oh look, there's my mother smirking at me. They've been looking for any excuse to send me here. Its all apart of their nefarious yet completely obvious plan."

"What plan?" Enid says with a smirk, trying to pry out any information she can out of her new roommate.

Wednesday's eyes break from the trophy case to meet Enid's. "To turn me into a version of themselves."

"How would that turn you into a version of them? everyone's high school experience is different." You instantly regret saying, meeting your eyes to Wednesday's intimidating stare.

Enid elbows you, coughing to interrupt the awkward lul in the conversation. Your face flushed with embarrassment.

"Perhaps you could clear something up." Enid says while she continues the tour. You're just happy the attention is off you again.

"Rumor's been swirling around that you killed a student at your old school, and your parents pulled strings to get you off." Enid looks at you for a moment before meeting Wednesdays gaze again.

Wednesday starts to walk past you both. "Actually it was two kids but who's counting?" You and Enid stop simultaneously, looking at each with wide eyes till you both catch up to Wednesday.

You all walk through some double doors to an open area. "Welcome to the Quad." Enid states putting her arms out to the side.

"It's a pentagon." Wednesday states flatly. You and Enid share a glance for a moment.

You and Xavier meet eye contact as he beckons you with his hand. You and Xavier have been friends for awhile, first bonding over silly conversation and his art after being assigned together for a group project.

"I'll be right back guys." You say before walking around on the cobblestone path, eventually meeting up to Xavier who is painting something on the wall.

"You looked like you were suffering, so I thought I'd drag you away for a second." Xavier smirks before continuing his painting.

"Wow you're such a life safer, my knight in shining armor." You say teasingly, putting the back of your hand on your forehead acting faint.

He makes eye contact with you with a slight smile at your performance before looking back to Wednesday.

"She's gorgeous." He says before meeting your eyes again.

"I know right!" You were about the push him, but you didn't want to mess up his painting.

Something you and Xavier bonded over was both of you finding woman attractive. Like you'd both agree, or argue, about celebrities and how pretty some of them are.

You see Ajax talking to Enid. "I should probably get back before Wednesday hates me and, I don't know, kills me in my sleep or something."

"Good luck." Xavier says, still distracted by his painting.

"Thanks, I hope I don't need it." You say before making your way back to Enid and Wednesday.

"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation." Is the last thing you hear Wednesday say, making eye contact with you as you finally caught back up. She turns around and walks away.

"Was I gone for too long?" Enid makes eye contact with you before shaking her head and walking away.

-

The sun has set past the horizon, It's just you and Wednesday in the dorm. Wednesday just finished unpacking.

Enid is in Yoko's dorm, doing whatever they do.

Wednesday looks up from the center of the room, staring at the tinted sunroof.

You see Wednesday with her head angled upwards, contemplating her options to remove the tint.

"Do you want help?" You ask standing from your desk.

Wednesday lowers her eyes from the sun roof to you. "No, I can do just fine on my own."

You watch Wednesday skeem a few seconds longer until you pull out your wand.

You point your wand towards the sky roof, The sound of film being taking off glass filling the dorm as one of the tints slips of and falls gently towards your wand.

"You're a witch." Wednesday says bluntly.

You keep taking the tint off the different sections of the sun roof.

"Yeah, luckily. I've always really enjoyed magic so if you need something that can be solved with a spell just let me know." You give Wednesday a patient smile as she has a look on her face like she's considering what you said.

Enid opens the door, seeing the scene and proceeding to stomp into the room.

"What did you do to my room!"

You both turn your attention to Enid, annoyance in her eyes.

"Enid, she has an aller-"

You are cut off by Wednesday. "Making myself comfortable."

You see where this is going. deciding to not be in the crossfire, you decide to be in the safety of your section of the room.

You open your book back to where you left off studying with the sound of Wednesday and Enid bickering as your white noise.

Soon Enid starts blasting music.

"Turn it off." You hear Wednesday approaching the center of the room, and you can no longer focus on reading so you watch instead.

Enid shakes her head while dancing.

"This is your final warning." You grab your wand out of fear for your roommate, you keep it concealed unless needed.

"Rah!" Enid holds her hands up to Wednesday's face, claws extended from her fingernails.

"Don't mess with me! This kitty has claws and I'm not afraid to use them."

The door to the dorm suddenly opens, your carnivorous plants teacher and dorm mom, Marilyn Thornhill, on the other side carrying a black flower.

"Sorry for the interruption." Marilyn notices the tint all over the floor and the energy between Enid and Wednesday.

"Is this a bad time?" You go back to reading, every student has gone through this. You didn't need to live it again.

-

You're walking back from the bathroom to head back to class when you notice Wednesday walking by, there is a nick on her forehead.

"Hey Wednesday, heading to the nurses office?"

"Are you a mind reader as well?" Wednesday asks with what you assume is her version of sarcasm.

"Want me to heal it for you? your forehead I mean."

Wednesday stands there quietly, deciding her options.

"I'm not gonna make you owe me or anything I just, I don't know, I like helping." You look into Wednesday's eyes, she looks to the side before making her final decision.

"Okay, only if you don't demand anything in return." You smile towards Wednesday while pulling out your wand.

"Of course not."

You point your wand towards the cut on Wednesday's forehead.

"Episkey."

The wound on Wednesday's forehead closes itself, the blood leaving with it.

Wednesday is quiet for a moment.

"Thank you." Wednesday says in a slightly different tone than usual.

You hide the slight shock on your face. You never expected to hear her say words of gratitude, especially to you, her roommate.

"It's not a problem, honest. Do you want me to show you to where the nurses office is just in case I'm not there next time?" You smirk as Wednesday nods.

Wednesday tries to feel where the cut was on her forehead before you both hear a scrapping sound from above.

A gargoyle is falling off the roof above. It's spinning forwards, flipping over.

You take a step back, pointing your wand up.

"Reducto!"

There's a flash of light from your wand, the projectile hitting the falling gargoyle. The statue turning to dust before falling onto Wednesday.

When you look back down to see Wednesday you see Xavier behind her.

"Wednesday get down!" He shouts, tackling her to the ground. You take a big step back to avoid the tackle.

The remains of the gargoyle land softly on top of Wednesday and Xavier.

You look to make sure they're both okay.

Wednesday is unconscious.

Xavier looks up to you. "Cast a spell or something to heal her!"

"What? I just started learning healing charms there is no way I'm experienced enough to mess with head injuries."

You go to pick up Wednesday. "I'll take her to the nurses office."

You're about to start walking until Xavier takes her out of your hands.

"I'm the one that tackled her, I'll take her."

You're left standing there, grasping your wand in both of your hands, as Xavier leaves before you can fight back.

Part 2.

Past Lives Masterlist

a/n: I'm so happy part 1 is over. this was kinda annoying at times to write I'm just excited to get to the cooler parts B)

[frances-baby-houseman]

We went to look at the 1.2 million dollar immaculate untouched but well maintained mid-century ranch that our real estate agent showed us. It is the most insane house I've ever seen

it has a pink marble bathroom (above)

all the floors are terrazzo

the primary bathroom has a bathtub inside the shower enclosure with a little step to get out of it (I do not know how to describe this feature)

there is a drive-through garage (a thing I have never seen before IN MY LIFE)

the backyard is a japanese garden

adam was like where will the children play sports, the entire yard is a japanese garden and then we kept walking around the back and discovered a FULL HALF BASKETBALL COURT

there is a boiler (??)

it is on a slab so no basement

there is no actual family room and all the walls are stone

the walls that aren't stone are covered in fabric wall paper

I am not describing this well bc it is PERFECT

every room is full of built ins, you would not need a single dresser

the walls are covered in actual art work, if we don't buy the house I'm at least going to the estate sale (I know there will be one bc many things are tagged "don't sell")

there is an enormous pass through from the kitchen to the dining room

there is an explicable structure made of steel and mesh screens enclosing the patio

it has a circle driveway in addition to the drive through garage

again, a DRIVE THROUGH GARAGE

there is a tiny office all the way on the other side of the house

every room has a door

the bedroom half of the house can be fully closed off from the rest of the house

listen i'm obsessed with this place but we cannot spend 1..2 million dollars

[newtthetranswriter]

Frosted Wings

Word count: 1168

Paring: Keigo Takami x reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a relaxing birthday turned into an interview and a meeting, neither of which Keigo wanted to deal with. Lucky for him, You’re there when he gets home to help brush off the snow, make some hot chocolate, and give cuddles

Warnings: Keigo calls reader dove, talk of over throwing the government, The hunger games movie mentioned, slight cursing

A/N: Hello and Happy Birthday to the lovely Hawks, who needs to be protected no matter what. Anyway, thanks to @keigotakamiz for the idea for this fic. I hope you all enjoy and remember to Hydrate or Diedrate.

    I had been waiting all day for Keigo to get home. What was supposed to be a relaxing day of watching movies and cuddling, turned into me sitting at home waiting for my boyfriend to return home. We had barely gotten settled for our movie marathon when the Hero Safety Commission called him in for some press thing they conveniently forgot to inform him about. It honestly can be so annoying having the few days off we get together, interrupted by those money hungry asshats. Plus we had this planned for months, he specifically requested the day off, so we could just relax and not worry about anything, and maybe just once let Keigo actually enjoy his birthday.

    Now instead of watching movies, I'm stuck watching my Lovely boyfriend answer the interviewer’s questions with scripted enthusiasm, but a faint look of exhaustion in his eyes. He truly mastered hiding his true feelings in public, but when he enters our shared home, the mask falls, and you can see how truly tired he is. I could only hope this would be over soon, and I could wrap my arms around his chest as we lay on the couch watching random movies drinking hot chocolate, the way we had planned in the first place.

    The interview took about an hour, which was then followed by Keigo being taken away for some ‘dumb meeting’ with the HSC, his words not mine. I could tell from the random texts that he just wanted out and after another two hours of brief texts about the meeting could have waited until he came back to work, I finally received a message saying he was finally on his way home. Feeling relief that he would be home soon, I got up to put the kettle on for some fresh hot chocolate. With the water heating, I set out our mugs and waited patiently for the Winged hero to get home.

   It didn’t take long for me to hear a soft thud on the patio, followed by the sliding door opened. “Holy shit, it’s freezing out there.” I heard as I turned to Keigo as entered our shared space. I took a second to take him in, he was still in his hero costume, as he had to wear it for any public appearance, but what really caught my eye was the light dusting of snow sticking to his feathers and hair. I quickly stood up to grab a towel and a blanket.

   “Damn Keigo, you shouldn’t have been flying if it’s snowing enough to stick to your wings. What would have happened if ice had a chance to form?” I said in concern, helping him get the snow out of his hair first. He just shrugged in response, accidentally sending some of the snow from his wings to the floor. “Don’t move your wings until we get the snow off, I don’t want to clean up a puddle.” I tapped his shoulder as I moved behind him to start brushing the snow into the towel I had in hand.

   “Sorry dove, you know I wouldn’t fly in this if I had a choice. Those dicks at the commission love using me as a sales tactic and don’t care about whether it’s safe for me to be out showing off.” Keigo responded, clearly upset that his employers cared more about money and looking good than the safety of their star hero.

   I frowned, knowing that even though he enjoys hero work, he just wants to be able to relax. “Hopefully soon you’ll be able to realize your dream, and heroes will have more time on their hands than they know what to do with.” I said, wiping the last of the snow off his wings. “Anyway, I got all the snow off, so why don’t you go change while I finish making the hot chocolate.” Keigo whispered a quick thanks before shedding his coat and heading to our room to put on some more comfortable clothes.

    While I was careful pouring the boiling water over the hot chocolate mix in the mugs on the counter, I heard the bedroom door close. Moments later, there was a sigh and soft thud from the living room, a tell-tale sign Keigo was changed and patently waiting on the couch. Finishing off the mugs of cocoa with some marshmallows and a candy cane in mine, I carefully walked them out to the tired pro slumped into the couch.

   “You know if you keep laying like that, you’re going to hurt your wings.” I said, pointing out how he had them folded to his back, lying directly on the joints where they connected to him. He just grumbled before sitting up and accepting the warm cup out of my hand. “So, what movie are we watching first? Figure since it’s your day, and it’s already been so wonderful, you can pick first.” Sarcasm gracing my sentence as I sat next to him on the couch.

   He stretched the wing closest to me out and wrapped it around me, pulling me into his side. Pausing a moment to enjoy the contact, before responding. “I was thinking maybe the Hunger Games, as I too would love to overthrow or corrupt government sometimes.” I moved to take a sip of my drink to cover my laugh before nodding in agreement. Keigo grabbed the remote off the table, playing the agreed upon movie, before setting the remote and his mug on the coffee table.

   I didn’t think much of it, thinking he was just taking a break from the drink, I just stayed focused on the movie. Jokes on me though, right as the opening played my mug was taken from my hands, set on the table and red overtook my vision. Keigo had set my cup down and completely enveloped me in his wings, pulling me to his chest as he adjusted to lay on his back with me on top of him, both of us cocooned in his wings. “Keigo, I thought you wanted to watch this?” I asked, confused by the sudden cuddle attack.

   “I did, but then I realized cuddling is a much better option.” He said, burying his face in my hair. I let out a soft chuckle, accepting it as it’s a regular event with the winged hero. “Plus, cuddling with you always makes my day better.” Keigo mumbled, placing a kiss to the crown of my head.

   I just sank deeper into his embrace, realizing that even though not much had happened today, I was exhausted. Before I feel asleep, I spoke one last time. “I love you Keigo, sorry your birthday wasn’t perfect.”

   As sleep took over, I felt him sleepily chuckle and heard his quiet response. “I love you too, dove. And every day with you is perfect no matter what.” With that, we both drifted off, completely content in each other's arms, forgetting the movie and the no longer hot chocolate sitting only feet away.

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor, Unexpected Pregnancy, Almost Instalove, Instalust

Warnings For This Chapter: Morbidity, Dark Humor

Chapter 2. 

The start of your morning always begins with a shot of espresso on your back patio and a look through of the past week's sales.

This morning, unfortunately for you, you can't possibly start off your day as usual. Not when Namjoon is standing on your doorstep at the crack of fucking dawn.

Even with his hands held up high with a brown paper bag full of freshly baked blueberry muffins from Angostinos and the other carefully carrying smoothies, he still has a gigantic smile plastered onto his face.

"Good morning!" Namjoon beams, brushing right past you into your sterile mansion.

"What's so good about it?" you grumble, placing your hand over your eyes like a vampire witnessing the sun for the first time in their life.

You slowly shut the door, notes of Joon's high pitched whistling floating through one ear and out the other with constant consistency.

It is in fact very odd that the tall, handsome man is in your home at the moment. Namjoon has always respected your private life and he never intrudes, never.

So on a Friday morning, with breakfast in hand is quite frankly bizarre.

"Why are you here?" you inquire, stepping into the open kitchen and leaning against the grand black marble pillar while your co-worker arranges breakfast on a plate.

"I can't bring you breakfast?" he chirps, sliding his sunglasses up and over his head until his hair is perfectly placed beneath them.

He's probably here to be nosy.

"No. It's illegal. Why are you here?" you ask again.

He stops arranging the muffins to look up at you slowly. He can hear the morning scratchiness of your throat with each word and he can certainly feel your demonic gaze piercing through his three piece suit.

Even now as you lean against the pillar, your black silk robe that trails along the cold, stone flooring is billowing around you like you're a goddess of deadly destruction.

Swallowing thickly, Namjoon averts his gaze when his eyes begin to trail over the one exposed leg that peeks out from beneath your robe.

"I came over to see how the escort thing went."

Bingo.

Call a horse a horse and it'll gallop all the way to the finish line for you.

"It went fine," you reply, walking over to one of the hard, stylistic black barstools and tentatively sitting.

There's no person on Earth that could sit down on this thing for more than ten seconds without getting a bruised coccyx and maybe a genital ache.

"So you picked a guy then?"

God's favorite pet project is acting just a bit too needy for you so early in the morning. Whenever he acts like this at work you can always just have a glass of wine and breathe, but without your espresso -- it's a buzzkill.

"Yes. His name is Jeongguk."

Joon can tell you're being curt and snippy now but when are you not?

So like always, he pushes past it.

"Got a picture? I'm curious to see what your type is. Does he look like me? Is he my long lost twin?"

You can only roll your eyes as you demurely point at the binder you took home at the far end of the bar.

Joon suddenly perks up at the thought of seeing multiple candidates and he's off in a split second.

"Make me an espresso while you be nosy."

"It's not my house," he murmurs, looking around.

"Figure it out, you woke me up," you breathe, looking down at your perfect nails.

"He looks like a fuckboy," Joon muses, sipping his smoothie.

Looking up from your espresso, you simply shrug. "He was very polite when I met him."

Fucking hot too.

"So he's willing to go with you to this wedding? You told him everything about it?" he inquires, brushing some of the muffin crumbs off the table into his hand and sprinkling them back onto his plate.

"He's coming over tonight to talk about some sort of game plan so I'd say so," you reply.

Namjoon's eyebrows furrow and his features give away almost immediately how much he hates that idea. "What? That's dangerous! You don't even know this dude and he's coming over to your house!?"

"You worry too much," you offer, patting him on the shoulder.

In all reality, you hadn't really thought about that. You were too entranced by how fucking hot Jeongguk was in that small office during the interview.

You acted like a child, really. It was like you've never seen an attractive human before and honestly… it really showed.

"Do you want me to come over after work and make sure he won't do anything?" Joon offers.

"No," you reply quickly, shaking your head.

He isn't your father. He doesn't need to just show up and you certainly won't embarrass Jeon Jeongguk like that.

"This is professional. And it will remain as such," you promise, sipping your espresso.

Unfortunately.

With a groan, Guk sets down the bar of weights above him.

"Nice, you're getting fucking strong, dude. You can lift more than you weigh." Jimin, his best friend chirps, tossing him a towel.

The escort catches it easily, patting his face gently as he sits up on the bench. "Yeah, I've been getting into working out more and more lately."

"Ever since Chloe?" Taehyung inquires, shaking his protein drink.

Just the sound of her name makes the youngest nauseous. "Chill out."

Jimin holds his hands up innocently before grabbing his gym bag with a sigh. "Got any jobs lately? Women don't want random dick anymore, man. They all want relationships and love and… commitment."

Tae snorts softly as he swallows the thick protein shake.

"I have a client I'm meeting in a few hours. I'm going to a wedding with her." Jeongguk announces, fixing his tank top in the mirror and flexing his biceps.

If his best friends were dogs, their ears would be perking up and their heads would be tilting at his admission.

"Oh really?!" Jimin drolls, draping himself over the bench press and looking at the youngest through the mirror.

"Yeah. She seems really nice," Guk shrugs, grabbing his dress shirt from the hook beside him.

"Is she hot?" Tae inquires with a sly smile, resting his elbow atop Jeongguk's shoulder.

The escort doesn't know how to reply. Most of the time when he hangs out with his best friends he himself is never under their gaze and questions are never barreled at him, he somehow always avoids it by switching the subject back to them.

But now, he has to answer.

When he first saw you in the meeting room guzzling your champagne with awkward, quick moving eyes, he found himself fond of how unsure you were. You were dressed head to toe in thousands of dollars worth of clothes and yet, you carried yourself like someone making little money.

He actually liked that.

It isn't everyday that a client seems down to Earth. It's been a long time since he hasn't felt on edge at a first meeting.

Were you hot though?

You certainly were attractive. You carried yourself well. You made him want to help get your payback immediately.

"Yeah, she was pretty cute," he admits nonchalantly.

"Just cute?"

Oh Christ.

Enough.

"I gu-"

"Leave him alone!" Jimin chortles, patting Guk on the back, "You know how he gets."

Thank God.

The youngest never talks about clients. Not anymore and he'd like to keep it that way.

While you were basically just an enigma wrapped in Balenciaga, Guk should determine on his own if he'd like to figure you out -- without the help of Hell's own personal gatekeepers.

His eyes skim over the practically empty gym until he finds the large clock on the wall.

"I actually have to start heading out. I have to meet up with Y/N in a bit."

The others exchange a look when he speaks your name softly and it's almost too hard to keep their smiles contained.

If they can count on one thing, it'll be that if Jeongguk really does find an interest in you they'll be sure to hear about it the next time they see him.

Entering your home after a long day of work, you find it very hard to do almost anything.

You don't cook for yourself, you don't clean, you don't get to sit down and relax and watch television.

You simply just… exist.

Today is the same.

Although, in just a little while, the handsome man you're paying to come to an event with you will be doing the exact same thing.

For the first time in a long time you feel bad.

He'll have to sit on embarrassingly hard furniture and stare at medically clean marble walls.

There's nothing to keep someone entertained in this house -- not even you.

You think about the backyard, how perfectly trimmed and neat it is with the black flower bushes and the white roses and maybe that's the place you'll take him. Maybe he'll find that you have some substance while you're back there.

Setting down your purse on the counter, you ponder what to do to make Jeongguk feel welcome.

It's not his fault you're dead inside, it's no one's fault really no one but the two little slimy fucks that are getting married.

It seems you mull it over for almost too long because the doorbell rings while you're deep in thought. The rich, meaty sound echoes throughout the empty, vastness of your mansion and it suddenly sends you into a panic.

"Oh fuck!" you gasp, turning around in circles like a madman as you smooth out your dress.

Your hands fly to your hair, trying to smooth it out without even having a reflective surface to truly make sure you look presentable.

When you waltz by the screen that shows you who's at the door, you're almost floored immediately.

This is only the second time you're seeing him now but he's just as handsome as the first time. He's taking in the mansion before him, looking around at everything like it's a grandiose amusement park and he isn't even inside yet.

There's something cute about it if you're being honest, the way he's staring at the fourteen foot tall double doors with his jaw practically on the ground makes you smirk even the slightest bit.

You stop your fiddling, leaving your long, sweeping black gown alone and your hands don't even reach for a strand of your hair.

It's almost like he's a siren and you're completely still and calm with him in your sights.

Taking a deep breath, you round the corner and open up the double doors with very little flourish.

"Hi," you chirp softly.

Finally, Guk picks his jaw up off the floor and he gives you a smile that's practically Earth shattering.

"Hey," he breathes, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder.

Within seconds you're turning back into that awkward, ridiculous woman you were during your first meeting a few days ago.

You take him in for a second, appreciating the thick steel chain hanging around his neck and the perfectly ironed dress shirt that he's wearing.

He looks perfect if you're being honest. So perfect that your only reaction is to turn right on your heels and march back into your sterile mansion for some sort of comfort.

Guk follows behind you, closing the doors and ogling at every little thing he sees.

"Selling wine pays well," Jeongguk gasps, whistling at the art pieces he sees.

There's the faint sound of opera bleeding through the mausoleum walls that buffers out the cold silence.

"I… um… I didn't pick up anything for dinner, if-if you're hungry," you announce, grabbing the champagne bottle and two stemless glasses.

"Oh! We can order whatever you like. That'll actually be helpful for me, I'll get to see your favorite type of food and make a note of it for when we go to the wedding," the escort replies.

This is work.

The fucking wedding.

You're really getting flustered up over someone you're paying to go with you someplace?!

Get a grip.

"Good idea," you breathe, chuckling awkwardly as you make your way to the vast backyard.

"Holy shit, this is beautiful." Jeongguk gawks, looking over the perfectly cut hedges and blooming flowers.

If he had to guess, he'd say you were a neat freak. There's not a speck of dust or a single crumb throughout your entire mansion and it makes him wonder.

Most clients he meets to find out more about them, it's merely just a formality.

But he's genuinely curious about you.

He's interested in how someone like you thinks and how you go about life.

"Please sit," you offer, sitting down on the black wicker chair that overlooks the stone pond just inches away.

Clearing his throat, your guest does the same.

He makes an effort to sit properly, although it does look like he's hurting himself in the process. His back is bent strangely and his hands are gripping at his bare knees through his ripped jeans uncomfortably.

He must not want to touch anything for fear of making a mistake.

You feel as if you should try and make him more comfortable, which is big for you when you seemingly adore how the interns at work literally run in the opposite direction when they hear your Louboutin heels clacking towards them.

"Treat this like your own place, it's okay," you promise, popping open the champagne.

Jeongguk gives you a polite smile. "Oh I don't think you'd want that. There'd be protein bar wrappers everywhere."

When you give the faintest hint of a smirk it seems to settle him a bit more.

Your smile is pretty, Guk thinks, it's a shame you don't smile very often.

Sliding him the glass of wine, you look out towards the backyard that you very rarely come to look at.

"Salmon sounds good for dinner?" you inquire, bringing the glass to your lips.

The escort can only nod. "I like salmon. Sounds doable to me."

This really isn't as awkward as you thought it would be. It doesn't feel painful to sit beside him.

That's nice.

Taking a sip of the wine, Guk wants to simply fall to his knees at the taste. It honestly tastes expensive, like you but there's notes in it that make him feel comfortable drinking it.

He's not used to this upper class sort of stuff. He's well off, sure, but he's not rolling in money.

"What kind of questions did you have in mind?"

He lifts his head a fraction only to see your head tilting toward him. With the setting sun in the background, you look like a grand painting like one of the ones he used to study in college.

It's a stunning sight.

Why the fuck would anyone hurt you?

His throat and voice box are nowhere to be found in all honesty, they've gotten lost somewhere within him and he's just not quick enough to find them before you look over at him inquisitively.

"Jeongguk?"

"Yes! Questions!" he coughs loudly, setting down his glass of champagne.

You're too busy berating your own self to catch his small moment of being flustered.

"My questions are simple in a sense. What's your favorite color, favorite type of music, favorite pastime? Then there are harder questions like your favorite memory, who your friends are. Just to get a sense of who you are so when we get to the wedding I'll know all the right things to say."

You nod thoughtfully, turning back to the stone pond as you sip delicately from your glass.

"My favorite color is lavender," you whisper.

There's a softness to your voice, a type of vulnerability that Jeongguk swallows thickly at. He finds himself thinking about your mansion, lavender is nowhere to be seen. Colors that aren't black and white simply don't exist in this expensive realm and while he thought that might be a stylistic choice, the way you've just spoken tells him about a million and one things all at once.

You're so very broken and these people that are getting married are the cause. He assumes that you were vastly different to the person you are now and he wonders for a moment what that person was like.

"Favorite type of music… I'm not sure I only listen to opera now," you answer, staring down at the water as it ripples at the slightest breeze.

"Why opera?" Guk inquire innocently.

"Drowns out the pain…"

God, you're fucking morbid.

You're absolutely horrified that you're coming off as this kind of psychopath. But then again, didn't you want this? Didn't you want people to fear you? Didn't you want to push people away and keep yourself locked in a castle of hard, sterile and nauseating?

"I'm sure it must be really difficult to open up and I'm sorry if it's pushing you. I just want to make these people eat their own shit and the only way I can do that is finding out more about you," Jeongguk offers, reaching over the table and laying his large hand over yours.

The chill from his many rings makes a shiver shoot down your spine and you find yourself trying to become smaller in front of him at the feeling.

He does want these people to pay. He wants them to rue the day they ever thought it would be alright to hurt you. It doesn't happen often when he finds himself aching for his client, usually because they only need him for a high school reunion or a date to their parents' holiday and they promised they have a boyfriend to get them off their backs. But he does feel your pain, he does understand even with the most minute information.

"What about your favorite memory?" Guk asks, trying to lighten the mood.

The question makes you think hard. You try to recall your happiest moments and although they're locked behind some doors, you think you might have a skeleton key somewhere nearby.

"I'm thinking," you promise.

The escort only nods carefully, still keeping his hand on top of yours as he looks around the perfectly kept garden.

He's coming to realize that all this money you have and the life you live is simply a show. If someone was to speak to you for more than two minutes they would realize what a complete and utter set up this is. You're living your life like an actress in a play, just letting the setting pieces set up behind you while you stand alone on stage.

Chloe was the opposite. She was boisterous and cantankerous and everything he didn't want to know but she drew him in so fast that it wasn't easy to leave when she sunk her expensive nails into him.

He wasn't moved by her, he wasn't hoping to help her -- he was merely with her. He was moving her set pieces for her so she could stay in the spotlight.

And suddenly Jeongguk realizes that he's drawing parallels between you and his ex which isn't right.

"My favorite moment is when my dad took me to the zoo for the first time. Zoo tickets were really expensive for my family back then. We barely did any activities besides going to the park because it was, y'know, free. But my dad knew how much I loved animals and how much I wanted to see them in person," you begin with a deep breath.

The escort can see how deep in your memories you are, the way your irises flit back and forth as if you're reliving right in this exact moment and the corners of your lips flickering upwards like a smile will almost crack your face like perfect china. But there's something endearing about it.

So perfectly endearing.

"I went the whole day running around and seeing all the animals, we stayed until they closed the gates and my dad even got me a stuffed animal to commemorate it even though he had to take money out of the rent for it. It's one of the best memories I have. I still have the little elephant upstairs in my bedroom," you finish, turning to Guk with a smile.

Your smile is true and wide, showing your perfectly white teeth beneath your dark berry lipstick and Jeongguk can feel his heart stutter for even a fraction of a second.

There is no way in hell he's not getting invested.

And there's no way in hell that he's leaving that wedding without making both of your ex's hate that they ever hurt you.

<---- Previous Chapter                                           ----> Next Chapter

[mimisempai]

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 8/8 - Complete

Chapter summary - As long as hope remains

Sometimes you just have to wait for the dots to connect...

On Ao3

Rating G -  3929 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

Months and seasons passed.

Aziraphale moved out of the lake house and into his old apartment above the store. After the death of HH's CEO, Muriel was no longer interested in staying there, and Aziraphale offered them a sales position in his shop. He preferred restoring and tinkering with his old pieces, and Muriel was good at selling. Aziraphale wasn't a tyrannical boss, and thanks to Muriel, the shop now had regular opening hours without restricting the antiquarian's freedom.

Arthur had remained friends with Aziraphale and was now also Muriel's friend, and more than once they'd come to end the day with coffee at Nina's after picking up Maggie from her shop.

However, all of Aziraphale's friends could see that the antiquarian's gaze sometimes seemed lost. His face wore a melancholy expression. But he never said anything, just smiled, and they pretended they hadn't seen anything, just pampering him a little more than usual.

On New Year's Eve, they partied together, and when the fireworks went off to celebrate 2024, Aziraphale couldn't help but think with nostalgia of other fireworks, wondering what Crowley was doing, where, and with whom. 

A.Z. Fell, M & Co - January 2024

It was already late and Aziraphale was hunched over his drawing table, looking concentrated, when Muriel poked their head through the door.

They said softly, "Aziraphale, I'm leaving now. I've locked everything, so all you have to do is close the front door and draw the blinds."

Aziraphale, concentrating on what he was doing, replied with a hum.

Muriel, seeing that he wasn't listening, approached and looked over Aziraphale's shoulder to see what he was working on.

"A new project?"

Aziraphale looked up and replied, a little embarrassed, "Oh. No. It's just... a personal thing. "

Muriel shifted to get a better look at Aziraphale's work, but the antiquarian tried to hide it. 

His friend insisted and asked coaxingly, "Aziraphale, let me see."

"No, it's nothing."

"Come on. Please."

Aziraphale relented and removed his hands from his work surface. Muriel leaned over and gasped as their eyes widened.

It was the lake house, but reimagined. 

There was a patio at the back and a staircase leading down to the water - the stairs Aziraphale had described to Crowley. There were trees planted along the path and lights shining in the trees. The house was just as extraordinary as before, but much less austere, much warmer, almost romantic, transcended by the changes.

Muriel said quietly, "I like it. "

Aziraphale asked, somewhat anxiously, "You really like it?"

Muriel nodded enthusiastically and replied, "Before, it looked like a place you'd go to be alone. Now I can imagine taking someone there, a family, friends. I can almost envision happiness there."

Aziraphale nodded, his eyes glistening slightly. 

Muriel looked at him with piercing eyes and asked softly, "Who is it?"

Aziraphale replied without hesitation, "Crowley. His name was Crowley."

"When you lived there?"

Aziraphale nodded and Muriel continued, "I knew there was something or rather someone there. What happened? "

The antique dealer replied simply, "I lost him."

"How?"

Aziraphale replied in a hesitant voice, "It's hard to explain. It's mostly... it was... bad timing."

"Do you miss him?"

Aziraphale couldn't deny it and answered with emotion, "Every day."

"Make him come back. "

Aziraphale ran a hand over his face before answering, "It's too late. Or too soon...Impossible."

"What?"

Aziraphale shook his head and replied, "Nothing. It's all so complicated. I don't even know where he is. And even if I did, I couldn't go up to him and say, 'Hey, I'm here, let's pick up where we left off.'"

Muriel asked him challengingly, "What do you have to lose?"

Aziraphale didn't answer, then resumed his drawing. Muriel, knowing when not to insist, looked at him with concern, sighed, and left.

January 2026

Crowley was still living in the same place, and the tree had continued to grow in front of the building. He spent a lot of time with Eric, who had apparently decided to take him under his wing. 

He was still single, but he had a friend, friends even, he could count on, and if sometimes one or the other tried to encourage him to date, they never insisted too much when he refused.

He devoted his life to his classes, the students liked him a lot, and Pepper who kept coming to see him after class had brought other members of the gang with her, and discussions around astronomy had turned into a science club. At least the Them were under supervision for their little experiments. 

Crowley's apartment - Early February 2026 

Crowley had decided to clean up, because in two years he had started to accumulate things, and it was time to sort them out.

He was organizing his clothes when he came across the outfit he hadn't worn since the missed date. His throat tightened as he was about to toss it into the discard pile, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and tucked it away in the back of the closet.

Later, while vacuuming, he noticed a squeaky floorboard. He bent down to examine it and found that it was easy to lift.

Crowley pulled back the plank and to his surprise, there was an empty space underneath. He bent down further to examine it. Seeing that there was something there, he reached in and pulled out a package wrapped in a dusty plastic bag. 

He opened it and his heart leapt; it was his copy of Persuasion.

One page was marked with a rose, now dried and withered by time. He opened it to the marked page and saw that a sentence had been underlined.

“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever.”

He stared at the words, stunned.

Rainbow Academy - February 13, 2026

Eric and Crowley, their classes finished, were about to leave the school and walked down the hallways together.

When they reached the entrance hall, Crowley gasped and looked around in amazement and exclaimed, "Ohhh this is beautiful! All these old tools. So well kept."

On display in the hall were ancient telescopes, astrolabes, and sundials, all in perfect condition despite their obvious age. 

Eric replied proudly, "Yes, this is my partner, Muriel, they run the antique shop, A. Z. Fell & Co. They had a lot of stuff like this and came up with the idea. It gives the shop some publicity and it looks cool, right?"

"A. Z. Fell & Co?"

"Yes! In fact, since they started working there, the name has become A. Z. Fell, M. & Co. M for Muriel. Great, right?"

Crowley squeezed Eric's arm and asked, "Can you take me there? I'd like to see the place."

Eric nodded and replied, "I have plans tonight, but how about tomorrow morning, before school, since we both start after 10?"

Crowley replied, "That works for me."

Maybe he still had a chance.

A.Z. Fell, M. and Co - February 14, 2024

Muriel and Aziraphale stepped out in their winter coats, but found the weather surprisingly warm. 

Aziraphale growled, "Honestly, what the hell?"

Muriel shrugged as they replied, "Global warming.

Aziraphale asked, "Would you like to come to my place for dinner tonight? We can invite the others."

Muriel replied with a happy expression, "I can't. I have a date tonight, it's Valentine's Day and some of us have..."

She paused, realizing the cruelty of what she was about to say, when Aziraphale stopped abruptly.

He exclaimed, "What?"

"What, is it so weird that I have a date on Valentine's Day?"

Aziraphale looked around. 

The day was really warm. People everywhere were enjoying the sun. 

He turned to Muriel with a strange look on his face.

He asked, "What day is it?"

Muriel looked at him in confusion, "Valentine's Day, I told you, so it's February 14."

Aziraphale repeated, "February 14, 2024."

"Yeah. What's wrong with you? You're weird, you know?"

Aziraphale, his eyes pensive, replied, "He told me about today. I remember the date."

"Who? You mean that guy? That guy? Your..."

Aziraphale excitedly replied, "Yes! There's a letter saying where he'll be!"

Muriel, understanding less and less, asked, "Did he write to you?"

Aziraphale nodded quickly, "Yes. I can see him today. You told me the other day...what have I got to lose?"

Muriel pushed him forward and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, you idiot!"

"I just need to find the letter!"

Aziraphale ran back to his apartment above the shop and rummaged through his old boxes until he remembered that Crowley's letters were still in the lake house, in the attic. He grabbed the spare keys to the lake house and ran to the Beetle at top speed.

A.Z. Fell, M & Co. - February 14, 2026 

"Hi Muriel!"

"Eric, you didn't tell me you were coming to see me at the boutique."

Eric said sheepishly, "I forgot to tell you that I had a friend and colleague Crowley who asked if he could see the shop."

He pushed himself forward and Muriel watched as Eric's friend entered the store.

"Hello Crowley, nice to meet you..."

But Muriel saw that the man looked frozen, staring at a point behind them.

They turned and their eyes fell on the sketch Aziraphale had made of the lake house with the changes. Framed and hanging on the wall.

Eric's friend murmured, "Who drew this?"

Muriel, looking surprised, replied, clearing their throat, tight as always when they thought of Aziraphale, "It's a friend, Az..... Aziraphale."

Crowley repeated, heart pounding, "Aziraphale... it's him."

Muriel replied in surprise, "Yes. Do you... do you know him? "

Crowley nodded, "Yes. He... where is he? Is he here? Is he working here today?"

Muriel suddenly looked very sad and said quietly, "I'm sorry. Don't you know?"

"What?"

Muriel replied emotionally, "He died. Two years ago." 

She swallowed before continuing, "Two years ago today, to be exact. Around noon, there was a bus accident in the city..."

Crowley, shocked, asked urgently, "Where in the city?"

Seconds later, Crowley was getting into his car as the rain began to fall, Eric behind him, confused, calling out, "Crowley! Wait up! What's going on?"

When he started, Crowley told him, "It's an emergency! I don't have time!"

Eric simply asked, "Is it?"

Crowley, buckling his seat belt, replied, "Yes!" 

Then, just as he was about to slam the car door, he heard his friend yell, "Go Crowley! Get him!"

Crowley drove out of town toward home, rain beating on his windshield. He weaved between lanes, passing cars, driving

Lake House - February 14, 2024 

Aziraphale stopped in front of the lake house. It was locked and apparently empty. He ran across the path and unlocked the front door.

Lake House - February 14, 2026 at the same time

Crowley arrived home and slid to a stop in the rain in front of the mailbox. He pulled out a notepad and began writing frantically.

Lake House - February 14, 2024 at the same time

Aziraphale hurried to the attic. 

Inside was the only box he'd left there when he moved out. He opened the box and searched feverishly. He found Crowley's bundle of letters. After a few moments, he found the one he was looking for and read it. 

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a February day.

I was sitting on a bench at noon in Saint James Park, near the intersection of Spur Road and Birdcage Walk.

He read aloud, “Saint James Park, just off the intersection of Spur Road and Birdcage Walk.”

Lake House - February 14, 2026 at the same time

Crowley finished writing the note and stepped out of the car, unaffected by the rain, and with shaking hands placed the note in the box before raising the flag. 

He stayed there and fell to his knees in front of the box, drenched from the rain, staring anxiously at the flag. 

Lake House - February 14, 2024 at the same time

Aziraphale jumped into his car and sped away from the house.  

Saint James Park - February 14, 2024 - Noon

Aziraphale found a parking spot and parked the Beetle. He got out and ran up Birdcage Walk along Saint James Park.

In his hand he held a piece of paper, the words of which echoed in his head. 

My dear Aziraphale. 

I know now... it was you near the park that day. 

It was you at the crossroads. 

Please don't go there.

Something terrible will happen if you go there.

Aziraphale continued running toward the location indicated in the letter before stopping at the edge of the sidewalk, separated from the park by a busy street. He looked away, searching for Crowley beyond the noisy traffic, among the crowds in the park.

Please don't look for me.

Finally he saw him, a distant silhouette, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun. His unmistakable red hair caught the sunlight. Aziraphale smiled.

Don't try to meet me. Not right now.

They are now separated only by distance. No longer by time.

Don't run to me.

The traffic eased for a moment and Aziraphale could clearly see Crowley, straight ahead.

Do you understand? I beg you, please. You must wait.

Aziraphale stepped off the sidewalk to get closer to Crowley.

Forget everything I said before.

We both have to wait. 

Not just you.

Both of us. 

If you love me and if I love you.

Not if I love you, because I'm sure I do, I love you, it took me so long to say it, but I really do. 

So if you love me too, wait for me.

Aziraphale saw Crowley straighten up and turn his head toward him, as if drawn in his direction. Even from a distance, Aziraphale could see his worried expression. 

Wait for me. 

Wait until time catches up with us and we can be together. Please wait. Just... wait.

Lake House - February 14, 2026

Crowley soaked, is in tears at the foot of the mailbox and whispers over and over, “Wait, wait. Don't go there. Please, please.”

The rain continued to fall. 

Crowley, finally, having lost all hope of seeing the flag move, tried to pull himself together and began, very slowly, to stand.

He looked at the box and was startled, the flag had come down.

Hands trembling, he didn't dare open the flap.

He took several breaths, and when he finally had the courage, he opened the box and saw that his letter had disappeared.

Saint James Park - February 14, 2024 - Noon

Aziraphale stood in the street, trying to see a little more of Crowley, and at the last second he backed up to the sidewalk. He kept looking at Crowley, desperately wanting to run to him, but he didn't; he folded the letter, put it in his pocket, and reluctantly turned and walked away. 

Safe and sound. 

Lake House - February 14, 2026

Crowley stared at the empty mailbox, his face soaked with tears and rain.

Suddenly, a hand came gently up from behind him and slowly closed the mailbox. 

Crowley gasped and turned slowly.

Aziraphale was standing silently in front of him, staring at him, holding in his hand the letter that Crowley had just put in the mailbox. Crumpled and worn, as if it had been read over and over again.

Crowley stared at him for a moment, trying to convince himself that this was all real. Then Aziraphale took a step toward him and smiled shyly before asking softly, "Have we waited long enough?"

Crowley, still in shock, his eyes filling with tears, murmured, "Yes...yes."

Aziraphale came even closer, smiling more openly this time, bringing his hand to Crowley's face and wiping away a tear with his thumb. Crowley leaned his cheek into his palm, closed his eyes, and murmured again, "Yes, we've waited long enough.

Then, finally, they wrapped their arms around each other, holding each other again and again, letting the embrace linger, pulling away to look at each other, making sure it was real, and embracing again.

Making sure they were both real, there and alive.

After a few moments, Crowley pulled away and, taking Aziraphale's face, now as drenched as his own, between his hands, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the other man's.

For long minutes, they parted only to catch their breath before kissing again, over and over, indifferent to the rain that continued to pour down on them.

Much later, when they parted again to catch their breath, Aziraphale took Crowley's hand in his to lead him home.

Crowley gasped as he looked at the lake house. 

The lake house had changed.

In the two years of Aziraphale's life, the life Crowley had saved, Aziraphale had transformed it.

He'd brought to life the project he'd shown Muriel two years ago, with the patio and the stairs to the water they'd talked about, and the trees planted along the path, lit and shimmering in the rain.

Crowley laughed in amazement and turned to Aziraphale, pulling him close and kissing him again.

Then they walked along the path together, stopping often to touch and kiss.

As they passed the door, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's sleeve and said, "Wait."

Aziraphale turned and replied in a falsely pouty tone, "Haven't I waited long enough?"

Crowley grabbed his hand, intertwined his fingers with Aziraphale's, and said softly, "I don't want to wait to tell you for real this time. With my voice. My eyes in yours." 

He paused and, with a trembling smile and shining eyes, said to him, "I love you."

Aziraphale, his voice hoarse, immediately replied, "I love you."

They held each other again, enjoying the bliss of hearing those words from the beloved voice for the first time.

Then they entered their home, ready to begin a new life where all was yet to be discovered. 

Together.

The lake house - Summer 2027

"Arry! Arry!"

"Joel! Take it easy, sweetie, and wait for your little sister!" 

Bill and Frank followed their children a little farther behind, hand in hand, then watched fondly as they gave gentle caresses to a Harry who seemed to enjoy it.

"Joel, Ellie, stop spoiling Harry, he's going to keep coming to us for petting."

The two children stood up and grabbed the legs of the man who had just spoken.

"Uncle Zira!"

He lifted them both up, carrying each of them in one arm.

"Harry gets petted and I don't get a hello kiss?"

Each of the two children placed a sound kiss on Aziraphale's cheeks at the same time.

"Should I be jealous?" came a voice from behind Aziraphale.

"Uncle Crowley!"

Ellie was already reaching for Crowley, who didn't hesitate to take her in his arms. The little girl gave him a big kiss on the cheek and squirmed for him to put her back down.

Crowley and Aziraphale, side by side, greeted Frank and Bill.

"Bill, Frank, welcome!" 

They all hugged and then walked together to the patio overlooking the lake.

As Frank sat down in one of the garden chairs, he said with amazement, "I may have been here many times before, but I'll never get tired of this view."

Aziraphale motioned for Bill to sit next to Frank before sitting down himself.

Crowley was about to sit on the arm of Aziraphale's chair when he heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up to the house; Aziraphale started to get up, but Crowley motioned for him to remain seated. "Stay seated, angel, I'll go."

He walked down the path toward the oncoming cars. 

Eric was the first to move toward him, "Crowley!" before embracing him. Crowley was now used to his friend's outpouring of affection and allowed himself to be patted on the back. 

They were soon joined by Newt, Anathema, and Mrs. Tracy, and all followed Crowley into the house. When they reached the patio, everyone greeted each other and sat around the table chatting happily. Joel was in awe of Mrs. Tracy's red curls, and Ellie laughed out loud as Eric bounced her in his arms.

"Is this the way to the little party?" 

Heads turned to the source of the voice as Aziraphale exclaimed, "Muriel! I thought they lost you on the way."

Muriel laughed slightly and replied, "Arthur, Maggie and Nina got lost, so I had to direct them by phone. Where do I put this?" 

They pointed to the cake in their hands.

"I'll take it," Aziraphale replied. 

He went with the cake to the kitchen, where he was suddenly overcome with emotion. He waited a moment to compose himself before returning to the patio.

"Hey, angel, what are you doing out here all alone?"

Aziraphale looked up and smiled, murmuring, "Crowley."

Crowley, who after more than a year had learned to decipher his husband's expressions, noticed his emotional state and gently asked, "Hey, what's wrong with you?"

Aziraphale wanted to speak, but the emotion was too strong, so Crowley wrapped his arms around him and held him close until his husband was ready to speak.

After a few moments, Aziraphale stepped aside, a trembling smile under the tears, "I'm sorry, I don't know, I'm not sad, not at all, on the contrary, but I suddenly had this irrepressible urge to cry."

Crowley nodded in understanding and brushed Aziraphale's hair back before saying softly, "Just too much emotion, perhaps? What were you thinking?"

"I... I was putting the cake on the table and I thought, if I hadn't read your letter, none of this would be real. I wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be all these people on our patio. And it freaked me out for a moment to realize that we could have almost lost everything."

Crowley, visibly moved as well, pressed a tender kiss to d'Aziraphale's mouth, and when he pulled away, Aziraphale continued, "But on the contrary, you, or rather we, gained everything. You saved me, you gave me a new life, and in doing so, you gave us all a different and better life."

Crowley nodded, planted a light kiss on his husband's lips, then stepped aside to take Aziraphale's hand and lead him out onto the patio, a tender smile on his lips.

"Come on, let's party!"

As Aziraphale was pulled along and they crossed the living room, his eyes fell on his mother's book. His first family. His mother and father. Then his eyes slid to Crowley beside him, and by extension, everyone else on the patio. His new family. Their new family. Not by blood, but by heart. 

All because Crowley had sent a little letter one day.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You've made an excellent choice, Ditchling is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have noticed.

I'm sure you're going to love living here as much as I have.

Crowley did not know that day that these words would be so prescient, even though they came from the future and were addressed to someone in the past.

Oh yes, Aziraphale loved living here, but not because of the house.

He loved living here because of the love that filled it. 

Because of Crowley.

“There could have never been two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved." 

Persuasion - Jane Austen.

_________ I hope you enjoyed the ride. I will probably come back to them in this universe, as always in form of oneshots. Thank you for having followed, liked and commented on this story! <3

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[birminghambifoldingdoorsltd]

The perfect solution for Modern homes: Sliding and Bifold patio doors

Selecting the ideal patio doors is essential for improving your home's utility and aesthetic appeal. Sliding patio doors and bifold patio doors have grown to be two of the most popular solutions. By maximising natural light and offering breathtaking vistas, these cutting-edge door designs provide a seamless connection between interior and outdoor environments. We will examine the advantages and characteristics of sliding and folding patio doors in this post to assist you in making an informed choice for your house.

Sliding patio doors

Sliding patio doors are a traditional option that enhances the beauty and usefulness of any property. Here are a few of the main advantages:

Sliding patio doors use less space than standard hinged doors since they slide horizontally on tracks. They are therefore perfect for houses with constrained floor plans.

Large glass panels on sliding patio doors enable an abundance of natural light to pour into your living areas, generating a cheery and welcoming ambience.

Seamless Transition: Sliding doors provide simple access to your patio or garden while seamlessly bridging your indoor and outdoor rooms. They are therefore ideal for holding outdoor events or taking in a soothing evening breeze.

Enhanced security: The safety of your house and loved ones is ensured by modern sliding patio doors' enhanced security features, which include tempered glass and multi-point locking systems.

Bifold patio  doors 

Due to their distinctive folding system and modern style, bifold patio doors have experienced tremendous growth in popularity in recent years. Here are some reasons why homeowners should choose them:

Unmatched Versatility: Bifold doors are made up of several panels that fold and stack neatly to one side to create a large opening that melds indoor and outdoor environments. Due to its adaptability, your living space can be totally opened up or partially opened up depending on your needs.

Continuous Panoramic Views: Bifold doors blur the lines between inside and outdoors by providing continuous panoramic views of your surroundings. From the comfort of your home, you may take in the beauty of your surroundings, whether it's a lush garden or magnificent scenery.

Flexible configuration: Bifold doors provide flexible configuration options that let you alter the size and direction of the opening. Depending on your tastes and the available space, you can pick from configurations like two panels, three panels, or even more.

Energy Efficiency: Modern bifold doors come equipped with cutting-edge insulation technology, like thermal breaks and low-emissivity glass, to ensure energy efficiency and minimise heat loss. A more sustainable home may result from this, as well as cheaper energy costs.

Conclusion 

Both bifold and sliding patio doors are excellent options for homeowners looking to improve their living spaces. Bifold doors offer unparalleled adaptability and expansive vistas, while sliding doors give a traditional and room-saving alternative. Regardless of the choice you make, patio doors of both sorts create a seamless transition between indoor and outdoor areas, enabling you to take in the beauty of nature without having to leave the comfort of your home. Use these fashionable and useful patio door solutions to improve your quality of life and transform your home right now!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Charming stone late Victorian built in 1900 in Philadelphia, PA. 5bds, 2.5ba, 4,580 sq ft, $725k. Only a month on the market and it already has a pending sale.

Isn't this a wonderful porch with a little sunroom and large bench. Love the stone arch.

Inside the porch there's this magnificent front door and stained glass window.

And, that door opens to the main hall. Isn't this fabulous?

The stair wall has a gorgeous stained glass window and wainscoting.

The sitting room has a wonderful alcove and double glass doors to the garden. The windows match the stained glass in the entrance.

There are also pocket doors and a corner fireplace.

The home has such beautiful details including original fireplaces and built-ins.

Look at the lovely closets in the dining room.

This pantry! It's all original and look at that copper sink. Geez, it's gorgeous.

The kitchen is huge and has this funky mid century cabinet unit, but other than that, it's hardly been touched.

These cabinets are definitely original.

And look at the original stove! This kitchen, if done right, will be stunning.

Wide 2nd floor landing.

This bedroom has a lovely corner fireplace and doors that open to a terrace railing.

Very nice vintage bath needs a little touching up.

Bedroom with an alcove and a floor-to-ceiling window.

Large bedroom with an alcove and corner fireplace.

The 2nd vintage bath. This is cute, lots of potential.

Nice big patio in the back.

The patio is the roof of an old structure that looks like it could become a garage.

Big .68 acre lot.

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.40)

cw: jokingly territorial-Matty

"No, that one's too sexy," Matty called to me from across my bedroom where he stood propped up against the jewelry box that sat on the dresser in my bedroom.

I turned to frown at the perfect image on my phone, but faltered slightly, enamoured by his handsome face. I tried to ignore how cute he looked, his chin propped up on his hand attentively with his brow furrowed in concentration as he watched me pull on a simple black tube top.

"You said that about the last fifteen tops!" I yelled back to him from where I stood in my closet.

"Too sexy!!" he repeated himself. His little scowl made my stomach flip flop, he looked so unbearably cute. 

He was sitting on the balcony of his new hotel room waiting for the car to come pick him and the rest of the band up for the concert tonight. He sat on the wrought-iron patio set in a tank top and I relished the way his strong, broad shoulders looked in the light of the setting sun. His hair was slicked back, a single curl which escaped from the dozen times Matty had run his fingers through his hair since he'd finished gelling it 15 minutes ago dangled perfectly across his forehead. I sighed loud enough for him to hear before pulling off the top and diving back into the closet for another option.

I knew I didn't have to keep changing- that Matty was just being funny and complimentary, but I was enjoying the bit, and I was determined at this point to find something that met his approval. 

I pulled on a very cute tie-dye long-sleeve mock neck that I loved- I bought it on sale years ago at my favourite vintage shop back home and it still fit me like a glove. I turned around in the door of my closet to show Matty, raising my eyebrows along with my hands in question.

"Hmmm..." Matty hummed thoughtfully. "Yup. Too sexy."

I couldn't help but laugh at his unreasonableness.

"I'm starting to think it doesn't matter what I wear, you're gonna think I'm too sexy regardless," I retorted as I yanked off the shirt and turned back to my closet. 

"Someone's starting to catch on."

I whipped my head back to find Matty grinning cheekily from ear to ear at me. I ran over to grab my phone and flopped onto my bed, pointing a finger at him sternly.

"You are insufferable!" I whined as a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I propped my own chin up on my hand to match him and he only smiled wider at me.

"Correction- I am suffering. You are insufferable," his eyes danced playfully on my phone screen. 

"What?!" I exclaimed. "Why am I insufferable?"

"You look gorgeous in everything you wear- it's too much! I can't bear it half the time!" Matty complained.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes as my cheeks flushed, overwhelmed by his candid compliments.

"I guess I'll just have to stay in and hang out with you before and after your show," I said in fake disappointment as I shrugged my shoulders. 

When Matty first Facetimed me after sound check earlier, we spent the first half hour of our call debating whether I should go out tonight or not. Matty was team 'going out' and I was team 'not'. Eventually, he won, but I still wasn't completely convinced.

"Oh no way," he scoffed. "There's no way you're not going out and getting nice and drunk with the girls tonight." Matty looked up at the sky wistfully, "I'm weak in the knees just thinking about what your drunk texts will be like- don't take that away from me!"

"Well I can't go if you reject every item of clothing I own, Matty," I complained playfully as I rolled off the bed and propped my phone back up on my dresser before walking back to the closet. "Unless you'd rather me go completely naked?" I teased over my shoulder.

"Oh you love me getting feral, I forgot," I heard him say darkly in the distance. I didn't turn around, but I could hear the smirk on his face, the lust in his voice sending a shiver down my back.

"Why is it that I can't be slutty but you can?" I changed the subject as I rifled through my closet once again.

"What do you mean, love?" Matty asked.

"According to you, I can't wear a silly little tube top to a bar without you, yet you're literally about to wear a tank top in front of thousands of girls who scream your name in bed. How is that not a double standard?" I asked sassily as I shut my closet and returned to the dresser to search its contents for the perfect option, sneaking a glance at Matty who was shaking his head.

"You North Americans are bonkers. Why can't you just call it a vest like the rest of us? Tank top sounds so silly," he said with another frown.

"Matty. You literally just said the word bonkers. I think we can have tank top," I replied reasonably. 

"Actually no. You cannot have a tank top, sorry," he pouted, "too sexy."

I opened my mouth to protest, but was interrupted by my own swooning as Matty smiled at me cheekily, then winked, those crinkles around his eyes in full effect. 

I dove back into the drawer and continued to rifle through my shirt options when a brand new top I'd stuffed in the back of the drawer out of sight caught my eye. 

"Oh hell yeah. I have just the thing," I said proudly, holding up the shirt out of sight from Matty.

"What is it? Let me seeee," Matty whined. I only smiled in response before stepping out of the frame.

I pulled the t-shirt on over my head and grabbed a pair of dark blue straight-leg jeans, tucking the front of my shirt into them as I ignored the string of complaints emitting from my phone. I snuck a pair of simple silver hoop earrings out of my jewelry box and put them on, then glanced in the full-length mirror by my bed, making sure to pull out the necklace Matty had gifted me so it hung over my shirt before stepping back into Matty's view. His jaw dropped when he saw me.

"You did not!" Matty said in astonishment.

"I did," I smiled smugly back at him.

The shirt was oversized, all black, with simple white text on the front. 

'lol ur not matt healy' it read. 

The day after Matty first played for me in his living room, I'd Googled the 1975 and was immediately intrigued by their website. When I'd seen the shirt on their merch page, I ordered it, then stashed it away so Matty wouldn't find it, saving it for a special occasion to surprise him with. Waiting had paid off.

I watched him intently, his face slowly revealing his growing desire for me as his eyes drank me in. I savoured the way Matty bit his lip in indecision.

"...I can't decide whether to tell you how over the moon I am to see you in that or to scold you!" he said, his teeth letting go of his lower lip briefly to speak.

"Scold me?" I repeated.

He nodded deliberately. 

"Yes. For two reasons: first, you don't need to buy that stuff! I can get you whatever you want for free- I don't need you spending your money on my merch," he explained guiltily.

"What's the second reason?" I asked.

"Well, you're wearing my merch while you're on the other side of the world... And I'm just supposed to sit here and be okay with not being able to do anything to you?" he said, his voice turning husky as his eyes drooped slightly with lust. "You know what seeing you in my merch does to me..."

I blushed at the thought of what he would do, but before I could reply, he shook the lust from his voice and looked at me with gentle eyes.

"You know that I'm just being funny about the tops, right? That I don't actually care and you can wear whatever you want?" Matty asked lightly, his voice tentative.

"Of course, Matty," I responded warmly. "I know you'd never try to control me or anything," I reassured him.

"Good," he said, his voice tinged with relief. "Because even though I do mean it- that you look too sexy in everything- that's something I accepted early on in our relationship," he continued as he shut his eyes proudly, "that you're simply a sex goddess who's intolerably gorgeous and beautiful in everything she wears, and I just have to bear it."

"Matty, I'm literally wearing a giant t-shirt and jeans!" I replied loudly in exasperation, gesturing down at my baggy outfit.

"And you look fit. as. fuck!" he replied seriously. "And no yelling! I'm the victim over here, with my sex goddess girlfriend taunting me over there in that filthily promiscuous shirt." I couldn't help but laugh as he continued to rant, "I haven't demanded you board a flight and come back here even once- not once! Considering the misery you've caused me, I'd say I'm much more worthy of some sympathy here." 

I giggled bashfully at his now wide puppy dog eyes. 

"Poor you," I cooed, watching his chest puff up in validation. "That sounds like a rough life, being the boyfriend of a sex goddess," I said sympathetically.

Matty nodded sadly, speaking earnestly.

"It's a big sacrifice, but I'm willing to make it," he said gravely as I giggled to myself. He knew just how to make me laugh while also feeling incredibly special and wildly beautiful. 

I took a deep breath in and sighed quietly to myself, careful to make sure it wasn't audible to Matty. I really did wish I was spending the night in with him- my heart ached with the pain of missing him so much. I felt so lucky to be able to miss someone as special as Matty.

"Now," Matty started, interrupting my train of thought, "Stand still for me so I can take a billion screenshots and decide which one to make my new phone background tonight while I wait for you to text me about how big of a crush you have on me," he said as he smiled at me cheekily, winking away any remnants of sadness.

[livewiretribute]

NEW SHOW ANNOUNCEMENT!! Drusky Entertainment Presents

Live Wire - The Motley Crue Tribute

with Mad Alice - an Alice in Chains Tribute

Saturday, September 14th 2024

Doors: 5:00PM /Show: 6:30PM

Vinoski Winery (Rostraver, PA)

BE SURE TO REGISTER NOW!! Free show for General Admission but you need to register now to secure a spot by clicking here.

Register here now: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/live-wire-motley-crue-tribute-tickets-978459547847

On all event days, Vinoski Winery will be open to the public during regular business hours prior to any advertised door times.

Subject to parking fee after 6:30PM

Tickets go on sale Wednesday August 7th at 10:00:AM !

Minors Under 21 with Parent or Guardian

All Sales Are Final; No Refunds

GA Tickets include General Admission entry only. General Admission Tickets are available here!

If you are interested in having a table for the concert, you can find one under add-ons.

Main Patio - 4-Top Table: $125 per table - Valid for up to 4 people.

Main Patio - 6-Top Table: $175 per table - Valid for up to 6 people

Sundeck (partially obstructed) - 5-Top Table: $150 per table - Valid for up to 5 people

Specific patio tables cannot be guaranteed.

All table deposits for Vinoski Winery concerts will be refunded on gift cards to be sent via text message week of show.

Reserved tables do not guarantee admittance, separate ticket purchase may be required.

A TABLE RESERVATION IS NOT YOUR TICKET TO THE EVENT.

General admission must be reserved for EACH guest alongside your table reservation.

DON'T MISS THESE TWO POWERHOUSE TRIBUTES ROCK VINOSKI WINERY ON THE SAME NIGHT!

ALL EVENTS RAIN OR SHINE

[logical-grave]

𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕥 ℂ𝕙. 𝟙

|| Pairing || - Dilf!Andy Barber x Reader

|| Warnings || - None so far hehe. Actually, andy barber is a warning himself. Very fluffy and slow burn-ish? Reader is 20 and Andy is early fifties 😀 so yea, but of an age difference. This is in first person too.

|| Summary || - It’s the summer before junior year of college and your neighbor can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

|| A/N || - IM BAAAACCCKK AAAHHH ahem sorry. I literally started writing in this acc and then dipped and now I'm getting back Into it hehe, I cant help myself. But yayyty this is the first chapter of my first series and I'm so excited omg omg

|| Word Count || - 2.8k

There was a light breeze that turned the tip of my nose cold, enough to tickle the hair on my face that removed me from an enticing trance. Six, seven months, maybe since the new family moved in known as the barbers. They had a past, I'm sure of it but who the hell am I to bring it to the present? I mean, for whatever reason they moved here, it was to escape and though marathon wasn't paradise on earth, it cut close.

The for sale sign on their clean-cut lawn lasted as long as a blink, the listing to our left being sold as soon as it was on the market and that sparked many eyes to center on it. But that lasted a week and only that before the barbers deemed this villa to be their retreat in the cruel world that surrounded them. No one knew who they were or what happened that caused them to move from the chilly climate of Boston to the humid one of the Florida keys. But they're here and they've piqued my interest.

“Honey, are you dressed?” it was a voice, one aged yet high pitched, belonging to my stepmother Rose. She was nice, she liked my father enough to stick around when he had arrogant outbursts but those weren't introduced to her until he was engaged to her. She was tall, slim, and at the age where all her veins were prominent against her skin but she pulled you in with stories of where she seemed to live another life. It made me wonder how she ended up here, with my father, and taking all his shit when those stories she told could live on.

Maybe that's where I came in. to pass her stories onto me and do my best to make my own. “You're 20, you have so much ahead of you.” Those were her words, ones she repeated to me many times as if she wished to tell herself that at my age. Either way, it was too late to feel bad for her but she was right. I'm only 20 and I, like her, would like to tell stories to young women that reflect me at this age.

“Coming,” I called through the door and backed away from my bedroom window, shutting it after myself. There was already an ache on my shoulder from the weight of the bag I prepared for a day on the sandbar, an extra bathing suit, an extra set of clothing, sunscreen, a hat, and a book to indulge me later on. I twisted the handle that opened to the narrow hallway of the beach house my father bought in 2000 and he's been accustomed to renting out to families that escaped the north and decided my summer before junior year of college was a good time to put it to use.

Rose stood in the kitchen, hunched over sandwiches she made to keep our stomachs from rumbling in the dead center of the sea. She also packed salt and vinegar chips, my favorite which she made a point to always have on hand when I craved a snack. Not a word left my mouth as I stepped past her to the patio, watching as my father used the freshwater hose to clean the inside of the boat. “Hey, sweetheart, hand me the cooler would you?” My father asked, his arms outstretched and his eyes switched from my own to the cooler on my left. A nod from my head prompted me to grab the handles on either side of the blue cooler, lifting it and straining slightly as I heard the movement of ice inside of it. “Jeez,” I said, lifting it above my hips in an attempt to hand it to him easier and he removed it from my grasp without much effort. A huff left my lips as I trained my gaze over the docks that lined all the beach houses, a weird way to set up a neighborhood if you didn’t own a boat.

“Where’s rose?” My father asked and I removed my bag from my shoulder, sighing in relief at the loss of weight off my shoulder as he placed it in the storage compartment at the front of the boat. “She’s inside getting the food. I’ll start locking up.” I spoke, unsure if what I said processed through his head since he was the type to act as if he was at times and I wasn't certain if that included now or not. My hand reached for the keys that hung above the outdoor freezer, usually used to store bait and fish. He flaked and gutted which made the keys in my hand smell. It also wasn't the best idea to have the keys in such an open space but surprisingly crime was low here and the worry about intruders was not a common one. “Don't lock up, yet. We’re still waiting for the barbers.”

My body tensed at the name, the step I was about to take to the side entrance contracted my muscles and a wave of numbness pushed through me. I tightened my grip on the keys in my hand, surely making a mark in a jagged manner due to the shape. “The barbers, father?” I cringed at myself for a moment, knowing I reserved the endearment for when I was conflicted and looked to him for some false sense of security but what does he know?

“Yeah, they’re joining us but they should be here already.” He looked to his right, their house tall and prominent in his view but the windows or doors showed signs of life. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, a sound I didn’t want to be accustomed to yet the familiarity of it started to push that wave of numbness again. Torn in two, my mind attempted to look for the decision of if I should go inside and dread meeting them until Rose was with me or turn on my heel and give them a blinding grin.

I don’t know why I was scared to meet them, maybe the small anxiety of having to make conversation or the itching curiosity of why they were even here needing to be answered but a conclusion was made for me. “Sweetheart, come say hi.” my father's deafening voice rang behind me and I gulped the lump in my throat that formed without my notice. I dangled the keys in my hand, allowing them to jangle and I pulled back my shoulders to straighten my posture. My mind made quick laps to gather whatever information I already knew about them and all I could sum up was Mr. Barber is a defense attorney, Mrs.barber was a teacher, and their son was six years my junior. Great, prepubescent, and raging hormones.

I turned around, a grin on my face as I looked over the new faces and almost made a sharp intake at first glance. one thing is for certain, striking looks ran through the family. I picked up my feet, stalking towards them with hesitant steps and a vague idea of how to even approach them. “This is my daughter.” my father introduced my presence, the weight of all their eyes on me as I held my hand out towards Jacob who stood the closest to me, and shook his hand. I held back a grimace, feeling the clamminess of his palm and comparing the difference between his and his mother's that felt like a plush felt.

I shook Mr. Barber's hand, the contrast between ours; his calloused and rough, mine delicate and chaste. “Nice to meet you, Darling.” He smiled, his blue eyes piercing into my own as his large hand enveloped mine, a charm from the small action emitting from him. There was a palpitation in my chest at the pet name he gave me in such a short amount of time of knowing him, telling me he was an affectionate man, one that didn’t have many boundaries. “Nice to meet you as well.”

The loud shut of the side door caught my attention, Rose exited the house and struggled a bit to balance a platter and a large bag. Feeling a slight of pity, I walked up to the patio and grabbed the bag, the familiar heavyweight back on my shoulder making me pout. We neared the dock once more and Rose introduced herself to the barbers as we all piled into the boat. “Thank you,” I muttered to Mr. Barber as he held my hand to assist in my descent into the shallow boat, taking my seat at the front to pull in the ropes that hooked us from drifting away.

Jacob made himself comfortable next to me and I smiled warmly at him. “So, what school do you go to?” he yelled over the growling engines that cut through the water and I shook my head. “I don't go to school until I reach the fall.” I shrugged with my sentence and he nodded, vaguely keeping his interest in me. I held back an eye roll and looked over my shoulder toward the back of the boat. Mr. Barber leaned into Mrs. Barber's ear, a joke he made causing her to laugh and hide in the crook of his neck.

His eyes met mine, only for a moment at least, as he tilted his head. I blinked before turning around and facing the front of the boat once more. Our destination was already in sight because there were a few other boats anchored in comfortable positions, drifting slowly from the waves we made in tow. The loud growl of the boat engines began to stutter to a stop, finally being able to speak to one another without yelling at the top of our lungs.

“Think you can toss the anchor?” I hear my father call over his shoulder to Mr. Barber, watching as he chuckled dryly at him. “You insult me.” Mr. Barber stood, slipping past me on his way to the tip of the boat, opening the compartment where the anchor is stored, and held it just over his shoulder. My eyes trailed the hand he had holding the anchor, moving down towards his bicep which bulged due to the weight, the veins in his forearm presenting themselves just under his skin. Subconsciously, I crossed my legs and turned away as I heard the splash of the anchor hitting the water.

Mr. Barber opened the storage compartment, reaching for the red-striped bag that Laurie had brought with her. “Here, honey.” He smiled at her as she now stood beside me, Jacob and I standing together as I grabbed my bag. Making my way towards the back of the boat, I removed my ragged shirt that has seen better days, and my shorts that were now tighter than I’d like after the half rack of ribs I consumed last night. I stuffed my clothes into my bag, placing it inside the bait well before hanging my legs over the side of the boat and jumping in.

The water was perfectly warm due to the piercing sun shining over it. I sunk into the salt water just under my chin before turning onto my back, enjoying the laxity of floating above the waves. “Beautiful day, huh?” Mr. Barber's voice interrupted my serenity and I stood on my feet, blocking the sun out of my eyes to obtain a better look at him. “Mhmm.” I nodded, looking at the ripples of his torso, the structure of his muscles is something he’s surely worked for and still maintained at his age.

“How old are you?” He asked and I looked at him curiously. “Turned 20 a couple of months ago,” I answered, my fingers each dipping into the ocean that surrounded me, and watched as the small droplets fell from the tips. “Fun age. Getting drunk, knocking out on the couch of your friend's dorm. The good old days.” He smiled, reminiscing his younger years as he ran his hands through his hair. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t drink.” I commented, ready to swim back onto the boat for some light reading.

“I get it. You’re a good girl.”

I looked at him and his eyes were dark, the blue of his eyes now a thin ring around his pupils. A logical reaction to his words has yet to cross my mind as I stared at him blankly. “Sweetie, come here!” Laurie called for him and I watched as he took two steps back before turning and walking back toward the boat.

Ignoring what he said, I continued to drift yet his words seemed to tattoo themselves onto the side of my brain.

—-~—-

I pulled the back of the sundress down, the length not exactly keeping me modest. It was navy with bundles of pink and white flowers printed onto it, the build of the dress wrapping my waist in a flattering manner. After the sandbar the day prior, the barbers kindly invited us to dinner, an outing on their dime. For a scarce small town, it still had its fair share of restaurants that had forks on the left and knives on the right and to place napkins on your lap.

“It’s under the name Barber, a reservation for six at 8:30.” Mr. Barber greeted the host with a smile and he scrolled through the large tablet before him as he nodded his head, confirming the reservation. “Right this way, please.” The host piled 6 menus in his arms, leading us through the restaurant. The ambiance was nice, dim but just enough light to maintain the aesthetic they’re going for. The white cloth of the tables was soft and crisp as if they just arrived from the dryer and we all took our seats.

I took notice to my left, watching as Mr. Barber claimed the seat there and rose to my right, all of us looking around the room in awe as we took in the others who dined as well. “What a nice place.” My father commented as he straightened his button-up. I nodded along, placing the aforementioned napkin in my lap, and took a sip of the water the waiter came and served us. “It’s gorgeous here, Andy. We can’t thank you enough.” Rose smiled, looking past me at Mr. Barber and I followed her eyes. For a moment, I saw his eyes flicker from my thighs to Rose, clearing his throat as he smiled at her. “Truly, it’s my pleasure.”

“So how’s it been at the office with George? I imagine he simply couldn’t sit still and do his homework.” Rose jokes, placing her hand on my father's arm. I let out a small breath, realizing now that the night would mostly be filled with questions made for the adults, telling me that I am now sided with the likes of Jacob. I looked over at him, seeing his face slightly illuminated, most likely by a gaming device just under the table.

“Office talk is the last thing I want to speak about at the table, honey. Did we tell you? Italy is absolutely beautiful this time of year…” My father continued and I drowned him out as he began to recall our first outing to Europe back in 2017 yet I couldn’t be bothered to listen to him rave about the beer and women there once more.

Then, a small gasp left my lips. The feeling of a large warm hand grazing the side of my left leg caught me off guard, almost making me tip the glass of water in my hand. My eyes turned to Mr. Barber who gave me a small smirk, his hand tucked behind my knee as his fingers smoothed over my skin. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the room surrounding me suddenly feeling smaller and hotter.

“Have you considered studying abroad, sweetheart?” Laurie said, looking over at me. I stared blankly at her for a moment before clearing my throat as I conjured up an answer. “Possibly, but for now I like where I’m at.” I gave her a weak smile as his hand trailed further up the side of my thigh, the tips of his fingers playing with the seam of my dress which I cursed at the short length. My hand stopped his own before he could progress, digging my fingers into his skin as a motion to stop but it seemed to urge him more. “That’s a nice dress, darling. Compliments you well. Doesn’t it?” Mr. Barber smiled kindly as if he secretly wasn’t making a move on his office partner's daughter under the dinner table. “Yes, you look gorgeous.” Laurie agreed and I couldn’t help the blush that crept onto my cheeks, more likely due to the hand that was causing my skin to feel as if it was on fire.

“Thank you.” I uncross my legs, dropping them both on the seat under me and tucking my napkin under the side of my thigh, sneaking small glances at Mr. Barber as a waiter introduced himself to take our orders

[plantanarchy]

do you mind sharing more about the logistical nightmare of growing things this year? i'd love to hear more about it

Oh yeah, basically we have a freshly built range of fancy, brand new greenhouse that is just about finished but it's apparently zoned as purely production space so technically the public shouldn't be allowed in there.

It's going to be our new main production house and place we do seeding, cuttings, baby plants, etc so that the main houses and eventually outdoor area around it can be more aesthetically appealing retail displays that are easier to shop.

But!! This year it's not yet ironed out where everything will be relocated and grown. And the range wasn't ready for the earliest start of spring production. Anything that is grown in the production only house ideally would have a "home" somewhere on the sales floor aka a display where it moves out of the production house when it's ready for sale.

There's also a huge long term plan for the outside sales and display garden area happening that will take. So long to get ready.... Our entire several acre nursery is in the process of moving locations to become a big huge parking lot. The mum field is moving. There will be deer fencing. Patios. Gardens. An absurd amount of work and time that seems unlikely to happen this season

but in the meantime, no one knows when that will happen and also i am.. the main person doing all of the planning of where things grow and move and hang and when for the current growing season. In terms of annuals, hanging baskets, combo planters, perennials, tropicals, herbs, veggies.

And that takes a lot of. Thinking. Planning. Calculating. And recalculating. Then moving everything... having the manpower with the brainpower to do that is a big hurdle and also, there aren't good routes to move things easily right now either.

Converting our current production house to a regular house is also like.... it's so gross. It needs regraded and new benches. We'd need to take out all the production stuff (seed trays, tools, tags, supplies, etc) and find a nice home for it in the new houses. That also means all that stuff won't be immediately accessible from the main houses without going outside and up a hill.

The good thing that when the new production house is done it will be sooooo much easier to do production stuff. The flat filler will be living in there so filling pots will be vastly easier. There's a huge garage door in and out instead of an obnoxious pinch point. There aren't benches so I could be more flexible with aisleways and positioning stuff. Eventually there will be so much hanging basket production in there. There will be a whole separate brand new Dosatron injector for that house and the upper houses.

It's very exciting!!! It's also terrible. I'm tired.

[monsterkong]

Coastal Elegance Meets Modern Living 🏠✨

NEW PRICE! 1315 Alabama Street, Huntington Beach

Welcome to 1315 Alabama Street, where Cape Cod-inspired architecture and modern sophistication blend seamlessly in the heart of Huntington Beach. 🌊 This newly remodeled gem, presented by the Tim Smith Real Estate Group, offers more than a home—it offers a lifestyle defined by luxury, convenience, and the unmatched beauty of California's coastline.

Coastal Charm Starts Here

From the moment you approach the gated front patio, you’ll know this home is something special. 🏡 The space is perfect for entertaining friends, unwinding with a glass of wine, or simply soaking in the golden hour glow. Step through the classic Dutch entry door and be greeted by a thoughtfully designed single-level floorplan bathed in natural light.

Spaces That Inspire

At the heart of this 1,236-square-foot home lies an open and inviting living area. The living room, with its stylish shiplap fireplace, flows effortlessly into the dining space and the kitchen. 🍽️ With Caesarstone countertops, pristine white Shaker cabinets, and stainless steel appliances, the kitchen is a culinary haven. It’s easy to envision mornings spent sipping coffee at the counter or evenings hosting dinner parties with friends. 🍴✨

The outdoor courtyard, accessible from the main living area, is a dream come true for those who love to dine under the stars. Imagine fairy lights strung across the space, the soft sound of waves in the background, and the scent of fresh sea air—pure magic. ✨🌌

A Sanctuary for Everyone

The three bedrooms are designed with comfort and tranquility in mind. The primary suite is a private oasis featuring a walk-in closet and an en suite bath that feels like your personal spa. 🛀 The secondary bedrooms offer flexibility for a growing family, a home office, or a guest retreat.

Details That Make a Difference

This home doesn’t just look good—it’s smartly equipped for modern living. With new engineered white oak flooring, sleek modern lighting fixtures, high ceilings, and an attached two-car garage, every detail has been carefully considered. And let’s not forget the tech-savvy touches like the Ring doorbell, ensuring both security and convenience. 📱

Live the Huntington Beach Lifestyle

Situated in a prime location, this home puts you mere moments away from the best of Huntington Beach. From award-winning schools and picturesque parks to the lively energy of Pacific City and the world-famous Huntington Beach Pier, everything you need is at your fingertips. 🌴

Your Next Chapter Awaits The Tim Smith Real Estate Group understands that every home tells a story. Let us help you write yours at 1315 Alabama Street. With over $5 billion in career sales, we’re not just selling homes—we’re redefining what’s possible in luxury real estate. 🌟

For more information, visit Tim Smith Real Estate Group and explore the listing here.

These homes are ready for their next chapter—could it be yours? 🏖️✨