#patio doors sale

[justtogetthrough]

For 13 years I’ve been carting around the bicycle I had my accident on that disabled me in hopes of one day being able to ride it again. I’ve moved several times and because it’s a fancy high end bike, always wanted it stored indoors and away from the elements. I lived beside a bike repair shop for 3 years and never got myself to repair the dead tires and that’s when I realized I really probably wasn’t going to ride it again, if I couldn’t even get it fixed when it would never be easier. The motivation clearly wasn’t there.

I tried listing it before this last move and had a FLOOD of interest. A bike enthusiast messaged me to tell me it was severely underpriced, the rack on the rear wheel alone is worth $150 (what I had listed the bike at) so I took it down and went aaaaah and then just brought the bike with me when I moved, again. Thought that maybe I’d try to ride it again afterall.

I had to close my storage unit when rent went up in the fall so this past winter the bike was outdoors for the first time, but I’d put it in my front entry area blocking the door and bookcases when there was snow to prevent weathering or rust. It was annoying as hell and always in the way. By spring I decided to let it live outside again but then realized the direct sun was wearing the seat and handles so I then bought a tarp and it’s been outside wrapped in a tarp for a few months until I could mentally deal with listing it again.

Tonight, I have finally sold it 😭 I listed it a little high and she asked to knock $50 bucks off for a very good reason (the tires are very old and need full replacing, which I hadn’t thought about but is very true and needs to be done) so I ended up getting $350 for it which was exactly what I was expecting and wanting.

I’m so relieved to finally be done with it. Not have it hanging over my head anymore. And the $350 now covers something much more my speed these days: a patio swing. Swings are expensive, cushions are expensive, and deck boxes to store the cushions in are also expensive (the cushions have been living inside where the bike used to sit - annoyingly in the way lol). The bike money completely covers the new cushions and deck box and I feel so satisfied right now.

[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.

[tenelkadjowrites]

Wallflower - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Summary: Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed. 

🌻 Word count: 13k

🌻 Genre & warnings: nerdy seonghwa with coworker reader. fem pronouns for reader. reader is drunk at one point. smut. some dirty talk. fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)

🌻 Tags are now moved to the bottom of the fic.

this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               “Sorry, I know I’m late,” You say with a huff, plopping down in the chair, clutching your coffee in one hand.

               “What kept you?” Your coworker and friend asks, glancing at the time on her phone, “We got here ten minutes ago.”  

               “Sir Dipshit was busy boring me to tears about the sales numbers for this week,” You reply with an eyeroll, “What did I miss?”

               It’s Thursday afternoon as well as your lunch break. As usual, your group of work friends met at the coffee shop across the street from the office. Sitting outside on the patio, the sun high in the sky with a light breeze, it would be a perfect day if you didn’t have to return to work soon. Sometimes, being inside all day at that desk is a bummer…more often than not recently, it’s been an incredible bummer.

               “Nothing much, we were just complaining about the usual,” Your other coworker says before taking a sip of her green tea.

               It is a daily event to go to the coffee shop at lunch and complain about everything – your coworkers, the corporation you all work for, the daily tasks. It is a ritual, something that gets everyone through the day, including yourself although lately it hasn’t been helping as much as it used to.

               “We have that office ‘party’ this weekend,” You remind them which elicits a series of groans among the small group, “And Sir Dipshit made it pretty clear it’s mandatory to attend.”

               Your boss, otherwise known as Sir Dipshit, lived to work and worked to live. The man had no existence outside of dedicating his entire life to a corporation that wouldn’t care if he dropped dead tomorrow. The last thing you felt like listening to was a lecture for the next twenty years about missing the event. It ended up being less pain just to suffer through it.  

               “At least the booze is free,” One of your coworkers points out.

               “Remember last year when that guy in senior management drank way too much and threw up on the bar counter? I live for the moments like that at these events,” Another coworker sighs wistfully, “It’s so funny plus gives everyone something to talk about Monday morning.”

               At that moment, someone cuts across the street, heading towards the coffee shop. You recognize the person as Seonghwa, who is technically on the same team as you although he works on the tech side. You say ‘technically’ because you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him on one hand.

               One of your coworkers leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “Speaking of things to talk about on Monday morning, guess what I heard about the resident nerd?”

               Confused, you glance over at Seonghwa who is almost at the door to the shop. Today, he wears a white button up shirt with black suspenders, matching slacks and shoes. His glasses are almost comically oversized, black frames that rest on the bridge of his nose that seem too large for his face. The wind is messing up his sandy blonde hair which he keeps trying in vain to smooth down as he walks over.

               “Someone is talking about Seonghwa?” You say doubtfully, “What is there to talk about?”

               Seonghwa is the biggest nerd you’ve ever met and it isn’t just the suspenders and the large glasses that give you that belief. His desk is littered with the sort of items you’ve always associated as nerdy and he’s always reading some gigantic book based off some sci-fi or fantasy thing. He also works in software and coding or something which means you never understand what the hell he is talking about most of the time during work meetings and tune him out.

               “Oh, this is a good one, trust me.”

               Seonghwa notices the group then and gives a small wave. Everyone halfheartedly waves back as he goes inside. You really doubt the rumor is going to be anything interesting. Seonghwa seems relatively harmless and you’ve given him such little thought over the past two years working near him that you doubt anything could suddenly make him interesting.

               But your gossipy coworker looks positively gleeful as she goes, “You remember how there was that big conference everyone in tech had to attend two weeks ago? They all flew out for it?” When you and the others nod, she continues, “Well, apparently Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional IT managers.”

               You raise one eyebrow. “Okay, and? The most surprising thing about this is that Seonghwa is getting laid.”

               At this, one of the other coworkers speaks up, “Seonghwa is a nerd but he’s good looking. That’s not really surprising.”

               “I can’t tell if he’s good looking cuz his glasses are gigantic,” You fire back, “I didn’t realize there were people sitting here who wanted to fuck Park Seonghwa.”

               Everyone breaks into bickering at this remark until your coworker with the gossip speaks up loudly to silence everyone. “Okay, shut up please. I am not finished!” Once all attention is back on her, which she is clearly enjoying, she drops her voice to a whisper. “Anyway, Seonghwa hooked up with one of the regional managers after that big party they have on the last night of the conference. She said she figured why not because she’s a regional manager on the other side of the country so she didn’t have to worry about awkwardness in the work place –”

               “Can you please get to the point sometime this century?” You interrupt.

               She shoots you a scowl before saying, “She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.”

               “Bullshit,” You counter immediately, “No way.”

               This creates another round of bickering about if Seonghwa could really be the best sexual encounter of someone’s life. You are steadfastly against the idea.

               “What about the trope about nerdy guys with big dicks?” Your gossipy coworker argues.

               “That’s fanfic shit,” You fire back, “Maybe this manager has just one or two other people she’s slept with so Seonghwa is the best out of a small sample size.”

               “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day.”

               “Yeah, sure,” You scoff, “I’m not saying she didn’t sleep with him but maybe she’s…jazzing the encounter up to make a good story.”

               It is then that the subject of the gossip exits the coffee shop. Seonghwa gives the group another small wave and this time looks perplexed when everyone bursts into giggles as they return the motion. But he continues back to the office, holding a coffee in one hand. You watch him go, shaking your head.

               “Sorry, I just don’t believe it. A wallflower like that being some dynamo in bed? No fucking way.”

*

               Back at the office, you glance at the clock. An hour until I can get out of here, you think. It wasn’t that you hated your job, it was just that it was super fucking boring most of the time. But the money made it worth it – at least that’s what you told yourself when the alarm went off in the morning and you wanted to hide under the blankets.

               Idly, your eyes scan the room, landing on Seonghwa’s cubicle. Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ and dicked her down so well she could barely walk right the next day. You scoff quietly before pushing away from your desk, wandering over to Seonghwa’s cubicle.

               He is studying something on the computer screen, slightly leaned forward with his back towards you. Your eyes look over the small space. There are some things you recognize – little decorations like small lightsabers – but a lot of things that you have no idea what they are from or what they represent. His cubicle is incredibly tidy, organized with each personal item displayed at such a way that makes it clear he has decorated the space for himself and not to send out a certain image to his coworkers. Cubicles, the original method of creating a carefully curated image to put out into the world before Instagram, you think dryly.

               You hover there, wondering why the hell you came over here in the first place. But before you can leave, Seonghwa must sense someone standing there because he looks over his shoulder. At the sight of you, his eyes widen slightly and he swivels in his chair.

               “Ah, sorry! Were you waiting there long? I didn’t hear you say my name.” He ducks his head apologetically.

               “It’s fine,” You reply curtly, “I was just wondering if you were attending that work party this weekend. I’m trying to get a head count,” The lie comes swiftly and easily without much thought.

               Seonghwa pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You study him for the first time, trying to see past the glasses, his messy hair and the dorky clothing. Seonghwa has always been slender, and tall, with almost a fragile delicateness to him. You’ve never given him much thought until now.

               “I plan to be there, yeah,” He says and then smiles brightly, “Are you going too?”

               “I am, yeah,” You grumble, “Anyway, thanks.”

               “You’re welcome!”

               You turn around, walking away from his cubicle. No, that didn’t clear up anything at all.

*

               As soon as it hits five, you shut the computer off and grab your bag, anxious to get the hell out of there. Sometimes, the office just felt so…small and suffocating. You wanted to get out immediately. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you hastily walk towards the elevator. Half of the floor is doing the same with a few people staying late.

               Seonghwa is one of those. As you slow down your walking speed near his cubicle, you look in his direction. Seonghwa is turned to the side, flicking through a folder filled with papers. He looks focused, brow furrowed, as he tries to find something. His work lanyard sways slightly and his tongue is poking out a little from between his lips. He runs his fingers through his hair, paying no mind to how messy it already is.

               There is just no fucking way that rumor is true, you think again, frustrated with yourself for spending so much time mulling it over today.

               By the time you make it to the elevators, you have resolutely told yourself to put it out of your mind.

*

               “Do you want to go grab coffee?”

               “Girl, it’s ten in the morning. Little early for a break, you think?” Your coworker says in mild confusion.

               “Yeah, I guess so,” You mumble, “Didn’t realize it was that early.”

               “Anyway, I gotta finish up this TPS report this morning or Sir Dipshit is gonna have my head,” She pats you gently on the shoulder, “But we can grab coffee later, alright?”

               She walks past you quickly, already lost in thought. You stand there for a few seconds before turning around to head back to your cubicle. Seonghwa is walking across the room, heading towards the giant copier near the window. Today he has a light blue button up on with khaki slacks although the large black glasses still remain. Someone passes by him, saying good morning and Seonghwa looks up, smiling and returning the greeting.

               How can he look that happy here? You wonder, And how are his teeth so perfect looking? That’s something new you’ve noticed – his incredibly white teeth whenever he smiles.

               Before you can ask yourself what the hell you’re doing, you walk towards him. He doesn’t notice you at first, too busy fumbling with the copier that barely works properly on a good day. But when you get close enough, Seonghwa looks up.

               “Oh, good morning,” He says brightly, “How are you?”

               Something about his energy, his welcoming posture and his smile makes you feel exposed in some odd way.

               “I don’t want to be here,” You say automatically without thinking and then grow deeply embarrassed at your confession, “Sorry, I – hm. I shouldn’t have said that. That’s weird, right? I don’t know – I don’t know why I said that.”

               Seonghwa studies your face for moment and then replies, “No, it’s okay. Would you like to go to the break room with me and get a coffee? I forgot to have a cup before I came in.”

               Leaping at the excuse to not sit at your desk, you nod. Seonghwa glances at the copier and shrugs, giving up on making it work. You trail after him, wondering why in the world this rumor has made you seek him out yet again and why you just openly admitted to a relative stranger that you don’t want to be at work right now. I must be so fucking bored, you think.

               Walking a little bit behind Seonghwa, your eyes study the way the fabric of his shirt rests against his skin before looking at how his belt lays against his small waist. You try to imagine him fucking someone into the mattress but your mind comes up blank. The rumor being about this man in particular just doesn’t make sense.

               In the small break room, which is empty due to the time, Seonghwa begins to brew a pot of coffee, chattering the entire time. “I stayed here too late last night and I’m having a hard time getting going this morning. But I am hoping to finish this project before the weekend so I can move on from it. I feel like I’ve already spent too much time on it and I’m going to fall behind.”

               You sit down at the tiny break room table, making a small noise to indicate you’re listening.

               “I won’t have time to work on it this weekend because I had to move my plans around for that work party. Originally, I was gonna have my DnD session –”

               Confused, you speak up, “Your what session? What’s a….Do Not Disturb session?”

               This brings Seonghwa up short and he turns around, peering at you through his glasses. “No, my…Dungeons and Dragons session. You know?”

               You don’t know. You think you may have vaguely heard the name in the past because you have a mental image of people hunched over a table looking at a board game. It must show on your face because Seonghwa quickly keeps going.

               “But now it got moved to Saturday afternoon so I can make it on time which meant everyone else had to rearrange their schedules. Boy, I still haven’t heard the end of it.” He pours two cups of coffee, glancing over his shoulder, “Do you want cream and sugar?”

               You tell him your preference and he continues, “But the boss made it clear he’s gonna be pissed if we don’t go so I kinda feel like my hands are tied.” Seonghwa stirs your coffee and brings it over, resting it gently on the table before turning back around to make his. “I don’t really like work parties. I am not really a party person.”

               “You don’t say,” You retort dryly, unable to imagine Seonghwa at a club at all.

               He finishes with his coffee, sitting down across from you. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. He smells like clean laundry. There isn’t a single wrinkle in his shirt. Everything about Seonghwa is a mixture of nerdy and professional.

               “Sorry, am I talking too much? I get told I’m a chatterbox.”

               “You’re fine. I don’t have anything interesting to say anyway, honestly. I just…didn’t feel like working this morning, I guess.” You look down at the cup of coffee, wondering why you feel increasingly uneasy at your job as of late.

               Seonghwa falls silent for a moment and when you look back up at him, he averts his gaze quickly, clearing his throat. “It’s the routine. Gets to all of us. That’s why our free time is so valuable. You have to make it worth something to remember life is more than just…this.” He gestures to the surroundings. “You know, this is the most I’ve talked to you, I think. I know our jobs are pretty different so we don’t overlap a lot though.”

               You hunch your shoulders forward, blowing on the coffee. Some part of you just wants to ask him – hey, I heard a rumor you’re a great fuck and I don’t understand how a thing could be possible. But that would be out of line so you keep it to yourself. You doubt Seonghwa is even aware such a rumor is going around about him.

               Seonghwa’s smart watch beeps then and he looks at it before mumbling a curse under his breath. “Sorry, I forgot I have a call I need to be on in five minutes,” He stands, “But I’ll see you around?”

               You are staring at the way that his long, slender fingers are curled around the disposable coffee cup. Were his fingers always that…dainty?

               Seonghwa says your name and it snaps you out of your staring, looking up at him. “Right, yes. I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.”

               “It’s no problem,” He gives you a small wave, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts.

*

               If there is one thing you’ve been increasingly disliking lately, it’s your job. The second thing? Staying late for the job. It is ten minutes past five and the anger you feel sitting at your desk while listening to Sir Dipshit is enough to make you shriek.

               You aren’t even sure what he is talking about. It began as a lecture about some e-mail you missed this morning and has now turned into a diatribe about his own day and how busy he is.

               You are trying to pinpoint when your job started feeling like a weight around your neck. You make good money. You work for a major corporation that offers job security. You have your own place. Everything is neatly lined up. But blurting out to Seonghwa, of all people, that you didn’t want to be here this morning has made you start to really think. And you aren’t sure that you are going to like the answer.

               As if conjured up by thinking about Seonghwa, he pops out of his cubicle with his bag, getting ready to leave for the day. As he brings his bag strap up around his shoulder, his shirt tightens for a split second against his chest. You blink, wonder if you just hallucinated how the fabric pulled against hard muscles. Seonghwa looked like he could be shoved in a body of water and his wet clothes could take him down. Thinking there was some hot body underneath all those clothes is just you creating things out of boredom.

               His eyes land on you and he gives you a small smile. Sir Dipshit is oblivious, still going on. You’ve made making sounds of interest while not hearing a single word an art form at this point. To your surprise, Seonghwa walks over to you, nodding his head over to Sir Dipshit.

               “Hey, I’m really sorry to interrupt but its ten minutes past five and I need to discuss something with her on the way out today,” He makes an apologetic face, “Sorry boss, I hope that’s alright.”

               Sir Dipshit looks mildly startled as if being woken up out of a deep sleep. For fucks sake, even his brain goes on auto pilot with boring everyone to death. You aren’t about to turn away a rescue and quickly get out of your chair, grabbing your bag swiftly.

               “Oh yeah, that’s right. That thing –”

               “Right, that thing,” Seonghwa says, nodding vigorously.

               “The thing with that call tomorrow! Yeah, let’s talk about that on the way out. Have a good night, sir,” You shoot this at your boss before turning around to walk out as quickly as possible to Seonghwa.

               “Alright, uh, good talk!” Sir Dipshit calls out after you, “See you tomorrow at the party!”

               Your back is to your boss as you rapidly press the elevator button. The doors glide open and you hurry inside as Seonghwa follows who immediately presses the button to shut the doors on the slim chance the boss wants to follow. He waves jovially until the doors shut.

               “Thanks,” You say, “Was it that obvious I was trapped?”

               “I just know how long he can talk for.”

               “Nice touch there with the ‘ten mins after five’ thing.”

               “Yeah, figured I would slide that in there and remind him the work day was technically over although honestly, I don’t think it stuck.”

               “Probably not but I still appreciate it. Can’t stand how much Sir Dipshit talks.”

               Seonghwa laughs at this, “‘Sir Dipshit’?”

               “Oh, you haven’t heard that one? Yeah, it’s just what we call him.”

               “I’ll have to keep it in mind.”

               Seonghwa smiles at you, the sort of smile that feels as though you are standing directly underneath the summer sun as it warms your skin. The elevator doors open and the two of you walk across the main entrance hall of the building which still has a few people buzzing around.

               “You park in employee parking?” You ask him, “What spot are you?”

               “Oh, my place is close enough that I bike to work,” Seonghwa replies as he slides his bag straps onto his shoulder so it is now a backpack, his thumbs slipping underneath the straps as he holds onto them.

               The sight of him in such a pose makes you think of those movies in which the nerds always walk like that. The only thing he’s missing is some tape around the middle part of his glasses. It strikes you once more how Seonghwa is just so not your type. Maybe the regional manager in Wherever the Hell city went for nerds like him but not you. No wonder she thought fucking him was the best sex of her life – Seonghwa is a walking nerd stereotype.

               “Oh,” You say, mostly because the idea of biking to work seems so foreign of a concept, “I have to drive like twenty minutes or so to my place. You don’t have a car?”

               “I do! It’s just…a gigantic piece of shit so I try not to drive it too much. Trust me, my bike is safer most times,” He replies, holding the door open for you.

               “Thanks,” You say, stepping out into the evening air.

               The sun is dipping behind the city skyline which makes you feel wistful. It seems like such a shame to spend all day inside.

               “Well, I should head out now. I wanna pick up this new Lego kit that got released today. It’s of an Imperial Star Destroyer and I placed a preorder on it months ago.”

               “Legos? Like those…building kits? With the blocks?”

               “Yup,” He says cheerfully, “I love building Lego kits. It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.”

               Reflexively, you glance at his hands wrapped around the straps of his bag. You swallow hard, feeling weird for some reason.

               “You uh…like keeping your hands busy?” You say and immediately regret saying something that could be perceived as flirting.

               But Seonghwa seems clueless to any potential interpretation and just nods. “Yeah, I also like painting those miniatures for DnD, you know?”

               You absolutely don’t so you just give a non-committal nod. You picture him painting a tiny teapot or something, a look of avid concentration on his face as he worked, the tip of his tongue poking out as his long fingers hold onto a small brush.

               “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” He says, nodding his head at you, “Have a good night.”

               “Yeah, you too.”

               Seonghwa turns around, walking confidently down the sidewalk to the other side of the building where his bike must be waiting. You watch him as he goes, taking note of how his legs take long strides and people subtly move out of his way. Once he is gone out of view, you slowly make your way to your car, unlocking it and sliding into the driver seat. You stare at nothing in particular, wondering why you feel the way you do. It’s a mixture of dread at the work event tomorrow, anger that your little time away from the office is spent with people from the office, and something else that you cannot pinpoint.

               It’s relaxing and keeps my hands busy.

               “You’re really losing it,” You say aloud to yourself and start the car.

*

               The rain smears the lights of the bar, distorting the building into a dark, grey smudge. You have delayed going inside for ten minutes now, struggling to motivate yourself into yet another ‘team event’. A few years ago, you didn’t mind these things. They were a bit dull but still manageable. But now, you can’t ignore the pit of dread in your stomach at spending more time around people you already spend too much time around.

               With a small intake of breath, you get out of the car, scurrying quickly to the overhang before you can get too wet. Then, as if preparing yourself for battle, you exhale slowly and open the door.

               You’ve arrived an hour late, something that you know Sir Dipshit will take note of, but it proved an impossible feat to get there on time given your mood. Your band of coworkers notice you immediately, waving you over.

               Your eyes scan the crowd as you walk over, greeting them. It is too early in the night for anyone to be drunk yet and so the air is stiff, slightly formal, with top 40 pop radio playing a little too loudly.

               “Fuck, you’re so late,” One of your coworkers says, “We were just wondering if you were gonna blow it off.”

               “And I said you wouldn’t because Sir Dipshit would never let you live it down. And also that if you didn’t at least tell us you weren’t coming, we would be pissed.”

               “Right,” You reply, not listening very much at all.

               “Hello?” Your gossipy coworker waves her hand in front of your face, “Who are you looking for?”

               “What?” Startled, you look around at the table, “I wasn’t looking for anyone. Just was seeing who was here.”

               “No one interesting, if that is what you’re hoping,” chimes in one of your coworkers.

               “Although,” Your gossipy coworker leans forward, lowering her voice, “Seonghwa is here tonight and I’m bored enough to want to see if the rumors about him are true.”

               “He’s here?”

               Your coworker motions in his direction with her drink. You follow to see Seonghwa at the bar alone, nursing a water. No one is talking to him but he doesn’t seem to mind much. He’s idly bobbing his head to the music while checking something on his phone.

               Tonight, he’s wearing…are those yellow suspenders? You groan inwardly. His shirt is also a very pale yellow with small blue buttons. His pants are a soft grey, a belt looping around his waist with his shirt tucked in. As usual, his hair is a bit of a mess. He looks like a total dork, you think dismally.

               “Looking tragic as usual,” One of your coworkers remarks with a giggle, “Please tell me you’re not actually going to try to have sex with him.”

               Your gossipy coworker shrugs. “I mean, that rumor is pretty alluring. Maybe his nerd act is just a front and there’s something nasty lurking underneath.”

               Your brain flashes back to him making you coffee in the break room, not minding it was ten in the morning or the fact you had blurted out that you didn’t want to be there. You suddenly are bored of the conversation and bored of talking about Seonghwa as if he is unauthentic.

               “I’m gonna go get a drink,” You murmur, leaving the table and all their discussions of Seonghwa and what he is like in bed behind.

               To your chagrin, Sir Dipshit sees you and waves you over. In no mood to talk to him, you wave back, pretending that you don’t understand he is trying to beckon you. At the bar counter, you order something, mentally calculating how much time you can spend here before leaving and not hearing any complaints from either your coworkers or boss.

               As you wait for the drink, you idly glance down the bar. Seonghwa is all the way at the other side. Someone is talking to him although you don’t recognize who. He seems engaged in an easy conversation, his shoulders relaxed. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and leans back against the bar counter. The shirt tightens against his chest and upper arms –

               Okay, you’re not hallucinating. Seonghwa definitely is in shape judging by the muscles pressing against the fabric. You swallow hard, your eyes trailing down his stomach to his waist.  

               She said not only was Seonghwa the best fuck she ever had but apparently he has a gigantic dick.

               “Ma’am?”

               Snapped out of your thoughts, you turn your attention to the bartender who has clearly tried to get your attention multiple times. Mumbling an apology, you take the drink. Your cheeks feel a little warm so you take a swig, liking the way it burns on the way down.

               You are looking for your gossipy coworker, wondering if she was really going to try to sleep with Seonghwa. For some reason, the idea of having to listen to her talk about it makes you wanna scream and you aren’t even sure why. But the growing crowd has swallowed her up. Why do I give a shit if she has sex with Seonghwa? I barely thought about the guy until that rumor anyway.

               “Hey.”

               The voice startles you, lowering your gaze directly in front of you. Seonghwa stands there. Up this close, the lights of the bar lay across his skin as if cozying up to him. He still is holding onto his water, his long fingers circled around the cup casually. You swallow, looking away from his hands.

               “Oh, hey, Seonghwa,” You try to think of something to ask that isn’t tied to the rumor about him and his big dick, “How was your…uh what was it again?”

               “DnD?”

               “Yeah, that.”

               “Well, the group was still upset we had to shift the time back and the session was cut to six hours.”

               “Six…hours?”

               “Yeah, we usually aim for…maybe eight or more, depending. Enough to make good progress in the campaign.”

               You have absolutely no idea what the hell he is talking about so you just nod.

               “Hongjoong, oh sorry, that’s my best friend, well, we were supposed to do a dungeon today and he was upset cuz we didn’t finish it like we hoped cuz San’s bard got cursed so that sorta derailed everything.”

               “The bard got cursed,” You deadpan.

               “Yeah, Yeosang didn’t roll high enough so we got sidelined by dealing with that. But I mean, that is just part of the campaign right? It’s Jongho’s first time being dungeon master and he’s spent weeks putting this whole thing together. We weren’t sure how it was going to go because typically Hongjoong is the dungeon master but Jongho really wanted to try it.”

               You have understood exactly two or three words the entire time Seonghwa is speaking but you are actually kinda relieved to be talking about something that has nothing to do with work. Taking another swig of your drink, you think of a question so Seonghwa will keep going.

               “Do you do this every week?”

               “Oh no, it would be too hard to try to have everyone’s schedule sync up weekly. There’s eight of us, after all. So sometimes a couple times a month – that’s what we shoot for.”

               “Oh there you are,” Your coworker interrupts, slinking up with their empty glass, casting a glance over at Seonghwa before looking at you knowingly.

               Their expression makes you feel defensive although you can’t pinpoint why. Flustered, you say, “Was just getting a drink.”

               “Hi Seonghwa,” Their smile is slow and lazy across their face, “How are you?”

               If Seonghwa has any idea as to why they are acting odd, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles in that bright way of his, greeting them by name. Your nerves are buzzing underneath your skin and you gulp down the rest of your drink before turning to the bartender, motioning for another one.

               “Wow, making sure to take advantage of the free bar,” Your coworker quips in a tone that you mislike – in fact, you are starting to question your friendship with everyone in this entire building.

               “You know it,” You mumble although your coworker doesn’t hear.

               Seonghwa, however, does, and the look he shoots in your direction makes you feel as if he is rooting around in your brain and seeing every dreadful thought you’ve ever had.

*

               Two hours later, you are drunk.

               It is a mistake and you know it. You’ve never gotten drunk at a work function before. It’s unprofessional, for one, and secondly, drunk people at work parties tend to always make asses out of themselves.

               But wow! It made talking to everyone so much easier. The mundane conversations about work slide through your brain like a lazy river in which you mentally bob in. Your coworkers, who are rehashing the same gossip they have all week – which unfortunately means more discussions about Seonghwa’s sexual prowess in bed – are pleasant hummings in your ear that you steadfastly ignore.

               At some point, you have found a quiet corner that is near the bathrooms and the back exit. Slumped against the wall, you close your eyes as the floor wobbles unsteadily underneath your feet. You’re going to have to either Uber or ask for a ride home from a coworker. Neither sounds enticing but since you can’t drive, it’s your own fault. Surely, two hours is enough time here. Sir Dipshit will be too swept up in the drunken dancing that has started on the dance floor since everyone is now feeling intoxicated enough to embarrassingly do that in front of one another.

               “Fuck, there you are. I’ve spent ten minutes looking for you,” Your gossipy coworker has suddenly appeared, ruining the solace of the spot you’ve found, “I’m bored and heading out. I tried talking to that Seonghwa guy a couple times and it’s like listening to paint dry. No sex is worth that. Are you coming with me? You clearly can’t drive,” You’re staring at your shoes and don’t reply. Your coworker huffs, “It’s really not like you to get plastered at these events. You’ve been acting so weird for months now.”

               “Sorry,” You mumble although some part of your brain is annoyed that she is bringing this up now when she is well aware that you’re not sober.

               “It’s fine, whatever. Just make sure you get an Uber or something, alright? We can get your car after work Monday.”

               You hear the click clack of her heels as she saunters off, leaving you alone again. You’re feeling sleepy. It tugs on your brain like an annoying child. If the world stopped spinning for half a second…well, until then you will stay right here.

               You aren’t sure how much time actually passes but someone’s shoes come into view next to yours as you stare at the floor. Surprised, you raise your head and find yourself looking at Seonghwa. A new song kicks up, with a heavy bass that seems to thrum up along your spine and into your brain.

               “Seonghwa,” You mumble, blinking a few times to make yourself appear less intoxicated.

               It doesn’t seem to work because he goes, “Hey, are you alright?”

               For some reason, lying to him doesn’t enter your mind. “No. Also, I’m drunk.”

               “I sorta gathered that,” But there is nothing mean in his words, it is just merely noting a factual observation.

               Your hazy gaze focuses on Seonghwa. He appears to be perfectly sober. You recall him drinking water earlier. Good idea. You should have done the same. Now, a headache that is thumping in time to the music is beginning to grow louder. Your eyes drop down across the curve of his neck to his shoulders down to his small waist and you swallow, closing your eyes for a moment to banish whatever the hell is going on with you.

               “Excuse me,” Someone says, storming past the two of you to head to the bathroom, colliding into Seonghwa as if he isn’t even there and pushing him towards you.

               But your reaction speed is terrible, slowed by the alcohol and when your hands go to his abdomen to stop him from colliding, it is like an electric current snapping all the way to your thighs. Seonghwa is extremely close but there is no booze scent clinging to his clothes. And to your utter shock, the skin underneath your hands is firm and toned. Fuck, you think dizzily, see, I wasn’t making it up. But it didn’t matter if Seonghwa was fit or not – he just simply is not your type. You barely understand what he’s talking about most of the time.

               He says something then but the music is too loud as is the rushing of blood to your head. His lips move, lips that are way too pretty and plump, by the way, not that you care, and you shrug, unable to hear what he is asking. He looks inquisitive but you’re distracted by how lithe and slender he is. Too pretty! Not your type! You scold yourself.

               “Do you wanna dance?” You blurt out, cutting whatever he is saying off.

               His eyes widen through his thick frames. Your hands are on his waist now and the two of you are almost pressed against one another. His cheeks are slightly flushed with just a hint of colour and when he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs. He replies but you give a frustrated shake of your head.

               “I can’t hear you!” You shout, probably way too loudly.

               Seonghwa leans forward, centimeters from your body. He is bringing his face towards your neck and your heart skips a beat so intensely that for one drunken second you worry it’s going to pop out of your chest.

               “I don’t really dance,” His voice seems to fill up your entire brain, taking over every sense you have, the cadence of his speech making your head swirl.

               You think about the rumor about him and for the first time, maybe because you are drunk, allow yourself to wonder if it is actually true. There are lots of stereotypes about nerds – and not just that they have big dicks like your coworker said. There is the stereotype of them being virgins, fumbling around with no knowledge as to what to do. You just assumed Seonghwa belonged in that group from the little interactions you’ve had with him.

               But if you were wrong…

               When he pulls away, his face is near yours. He looks shy and when he glances downward, you know he is looking at your hands on his hips. You wonder if he is hard, wonder if you pulled him against you if you’d feel his big hard dick against your thigh. Your eyes flick to his hands, nervously flexing at his sides. Without the sober shield filtering out the thoughts you’ve been trying to steadfastly ignore since the rumor landed in your ears, you think about how fucking long his fingers are and how they’d feel buried in your cunt. For someone who isn’t your type, it sure is difficult not to want him.

               Seonghwa pulls away then, tugging on the collar of his shirt for a couple of seconds. Your hands fall away from his body, his absence like a bucket of cold water being dumped on your head.

               “You’re drunk,” This sentence is loud enough to hear – although is it directed at you or a reminder to him?

               “I heard a rumor about you,” Your words are slurred.

               “About me?” He says incredulously and then goes, “Should I call you an Uber?”

               “Is your shitty little car here? Can you drive me home? I don’t…” It’s so difficult to concentrate in here. “I don’t feel safe being drunk in an Uber. I feel safe with you.”

               The admission would take you by surprise if you weren’t spending a ton of energy in trying to stand upright. You’re so tired and the booze is tugging you downward.

               Seonghwa looks taken aback but he nods. “Yeah, I drove here tonight. I’ll take you home.”

               “Thank you,”

               He glances at the crowded bar and gives a small shake of his head before pointing to the back exit. “Let’s go this way.”

               You slur out some sort of affirmative answer as Seonghwa carefully leads you out into the night air. The fresh air makes your head spin and for a split second, you worry about throwing up. Luckily, you keep it together and Seonghwa takes you safely around the side of the bar towards his car.

               “Wow, what a piece of shit,” You remark at the sight of the rust bucket.

               “‘She may not look like much, kid, but she’s got it where it counts’,” Seonghwa recites as he unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you.

               Swaying on your feet, you go, “Are you quoting something at me?”

               “It’s from Star Wars. Well, episode four, specifically.”

               “Right, I knew that. I saw that one. I think.” You manage to get into the car without making a complete ass of yourself.

               Seonghwa ducks his head inside to bring your seatbelt across from you, buckling it in securely. Some of his hair falls in front of his face while doing so and you can smell the faint hint of jasmine.

               “You smell good,” You mumble, “What shampoo is that?”

               He chuckles softly, pulling away and closing the door, walking around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. His car is clean even though it’s so old that it has a CD player. It also vibrates a lot as if the engine is trying to escape.

               You rest your head against the back of the seat, so tired that you are going to doze off any second. Synthwave music plays quietly as Seonghwa snaps in his own seatbelt.

               “What’s your address? Hey, don’t fall asleep yet on me.”

               You tilt your head in his direction, opening your eyes. He is looking at you with his fingers curled around the steering wheel. You wonder what it’d be like to sit in his lap. You wonder what noises he makes when he is turned on.

               "I heard a rumor about you,” You say again sleepily.

               “Yeah, you mentioned although I don’t know what anyone has to say about me. What, do they say I LARP or…still use IRC or something?”

               “Dunno what either of those are.”

               In the darkness of the car, the lights from the radio and CD player dance across Seonghwa’s skin. You want to pull on his suspenders when you ride him. Your thighs clench. You can’t recall a time you’ve been this horny recently and it’s over the nerdiest guy to ever work in the office. Something is totally wrong with you, as confirmed by your coworker earlier in the night.

               Seonghwa angles his body towards you, one hand still on the steering wheel. “Then what is it?”

               A very tiny logical part of you is trying to get yourself to shut up. But the much larger drunken part of you is not thinking clearly, is not even thinking ahead a little bit at all so you blurt out, “There’s a rumor going around that you’re really good at sex.”

               Seonghwa’s eyes widen so large that you might as well fall into them. It’s too dark to know if he is blushing but he turns away from you, staring out the front dash of the car.

               Oblivious to whatever he might be feeling, you continue, “And also that you have a big dick.”

               “W-what?!” He exclaims, still unable to look at you.

               “Right? That’s what I said. I said…no way! No offense.”

               He is silent, mulling this over. In fact, you are almost half asleep by the time he replies carefully, “That’s why everyone is talking to me this week. I was wondering why…I just thought…I don’t know what I thought…” He sounds almost dejected and it makes you feel sad. “I mean, including you.”

               Suddenly feeling ashamed, you try to say something but the words come out garbled because your drunken brain doesn’t jive well with the sudden panic that hits you.

               But Seonghwa shakes his head, brushing the word salad to the side. “You’re drunk so we won’t talk about it now.”

               You go quiet as does he. The silence seems to stretch into infinity. You want to apologize but he isn’t wrong. You did start talking to him because of the rumor. Maybe that makes you just as bad as your gossipy coworker debating having sex with him. But then you think once again of the kind way he made you coffee, and the fact he had you exit the bar from the back so everyone wouldn’t see how drunk you are. You weren’t lying when you told him that he made you feel safe. But you’re just too drunk to try to formulate any of that into words.

               Your eyes close, losing the battle against sleep. You are distantly aware of Seonghwa asking for your address again but it’s too late and you drift off.

*

               When your eyes open next, they are looking at an unfamiliar ceiling, your head is throbbing and your mouth is so dry that your tongue is stuck to the roof of it. With a small groan, you sit up slightly, trying to remember what the hell happened and where you are.

               You’re in someone’s bed which would be alarming if you weren’t still completely dressed in your clothes from last night. The only thing missing are your shoes since you spot your large purse next to the closed door. The bed sheets smell clean and you aren’t even under the covers, just laying unceremoniously on the top. There is a dresser on one side of the room that has a familiar looking robot built out of Lego parts resting on the top.

               It’s the sight of Legos that bring a whole slew of memories back to you. The drinking, your coworkers discussing Seonghwa – oh God, Seonghwa. You recall the way he looked, how he felt so close to you, him offering to drive you home and then –

               You groan again, burying your face in your hands. Fuck, I told him about the rumor, my big drunk mouth. He had looked crestfallen, hadn’t he? He must have assumed the random uptick in people talking to him this week had been for a reason but not for that…

               Including you.

               The words he uttered bounce around in your head, the guilt sliding around in your stomach like disgusting jelly. For a split second, you think you’re going to vomit because of the hangover but manage to hold things down. Very carefully, you swing your legs out of bed and stand up, closing your eyes as your head throbs painfully.

               Stopping only briefly to look at a bookshelf in the corner that had the largest and nerdiest assortment of books possible, you open the bedroom door and step out into the living room.

The living room is just a tidy space, clean and comfortable. The window shows the blue sky and the tops of trees, indicating you’re not on the ground floor. There is a stack of books on the glass coffee table. A large PC is near the window with three monitors. Another small table near the front door has a low hanging light over it, littered with paints and miniatures alongside multiple Lego boxes on a smaller shelf.

The couch has a pillow and a blanket on it. Another stab of guilt hits your chest. He had given up his bed for you.

               You hover in the doorway, taking in the fact that the living room is somehow exactly what you expected and not at all.  Slowly, you walk across the space towards the kitchen where you find Seonghwa. He is making coffee and looks up at the sound of you entering.

               “Hey,” You say quietly, “What uh…time is it?”

               “It’s a little past ten. So, not too late. Would you like some coffee?”

               “Would it be alright if I took a shower? I don’t want to impose. It just helps with the hangover.”

               Seonghwa is in an oversized Star Wars long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. His socks have odd looking dice on them that you don’t recognize. His large glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as usual. It’s the first time you’ve seen him wearing something other than business attire.

               “Sure, let me just get you the towels. Uhm, would you like some clothes? I can dig out some older clothes of mine, if you’d like.”

               “Yeah, thanks.”

               A few minutes later, Seonghwa is handing you towels, a large black shirt with a faded design on it (from a video game, he explained) and sweatpants. You rummage around your purse to dig up your emergency Stayed The Night makeup bag. This was the first time you were using it after just sleeping over at a guy’s house and not having sex with him. But you’re glad it’s in there since it has toothpaste, a small toothbrush and some other items you need.

               It’s always a gamble going into any man’s bathroom, and it is with a tentative push of the door that you step inside. However, just like the living room, it is clean and organized. Seonghwa even has actual skincare products by the sink. The shower is clean with high end shampoo, conditioner and body wash (also all in separate bottles!).

               Underneath the hot water, you wash off the night before. You wash off avoiding Sir Dipshit, you wash off the fact you feel disconnected from your coworkers, you even wash off your gossipy coworkers remark about how you’ve been different.

               But you can’t wash off the expression your drunken brain still remembers when you told Seonghwa the rumor. And you can’t wash off the way you felt around him last night when you asked him to dance nor the thoughts you had about him. You haven’t been that turned on around someone in so long. It’s cuz you were drunk, you argue with yourself. Seonghwa just isn’t your type.

               After the shower, you dry off, finish cleaning up and change into Seonghwa’s clothes. The shirt is soft, well worn, baggy on your frame and the sweatpants are a little long. But they smell nice and are comfortable. You stare at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers over the fabric. I need to make things right with him. He’s a nice person and he’s been kind to me and now he thinks I only started talking to him because of the rumor.

               And to make matters worse, that’s the truth.

*

               Seonghwa is sitting on the couch, two cups of coffee perched on the table. He has a book open in his lap, reading quietly. Tentatively, you sit down opposite him, reaching for the coffee while peering at the cover of the book. It’s some Star Wars book. It looks older than you expected, well worn, and there’s a man has blue skin with red eyes on the cover.

               “Thanks for letting me use your shower…and your clothes. And uh…for getting me here safely. And for taking me out the back way so no one saw I was being a messy drunk.”

               Seonghwa rests the book next to his coffee, picking up the cup and taking a small sip. The silence is starting to feel awkward now and you wish he would say something.

               So, you decide just to leap into it. “Listen, about what I said last night. About the ah…. rumor.” Your cheeks feel warm from just mentioning it. You never thought you’d actually be discussing this with him.

               Seonghwa’s hands wrap around the cup as he looks shyly down. His lashes are long, longer than when you spend too much on an overpriced mascara to try to get the same effect.

               “Can you…explain how you heard something like this about me?” Seonghwa asks quietly, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

               You push through how awkward this is going to be and tell him the entire story of how your coworker mentioned it over coffee. By the time you are done, Seonghwa has turned a deep crimson, his coffee long forgotten after being placed back on the table because he is so embarrassed. Silence hangs in between the two of you for a minute or so. You don’t press him to speak, figuring he deserves some time to sort out how he’s feeling about the entire thing.

               “It’s true that I went to the conference and slept with that regional manager. I figured since she lived across the country, it wouldn’t really matter,” He squirms uncomfortably, “I didn’t think she would talk about it and I certainly didn’t think it would spread all over the office. I didn’t know why there was an uptick in people talking to me this week. I didn’t ever dream it could be tied to…that. When it came to us…I guess I thought…uhm maybe you and I were becoming friends.”

               You feel a pang in your chest and move closer to Seonghwa, trying to salvage the conversation. “We are friends,” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re true. Maybe the two of you are very different but Seonghwa still makes you feel safe and seems to see you in a way that everyone else is missing.

               But he looks doubtful. “But you only started talking to me because…” He glances at you only for a split second. “Were you trying to…I mean…you and I…” He trails off, wringing his hands together.

               You stare at his hands, swallowing. No, you’re not my type. I was curious but there isn’t any attraction there, is what you want to say. The words would be so easy. A quick band-aid over a situation that has gotten out of hand.

               “That explains last night. Before we left,” He mumbles bashfully, “I thought maybe I was reading too much into it but you wanted to dance and…” He can’t finish his sentence again but you don’t need him to; you still clearly can recall how it felt to be that close to him and all the lascivious thoughts that popped into your head. You also can’t deal with the fact Seonghwa was worried he was reading too much into it when you were obviously all over him.

               You feel stuck. To tell him that you hadn’t thought about him in that way last night would be a lie. But to tell him would be admitting aloud to yourself that Seonghwa, the nerdiest guy you’ve ever met, is someone you’re attracted to. You’ve been protesting the entire time, to your coworkers, and to yourself that Seonghwa isn’t your type and you don’t see him that way. But…

               You feel nervous which is strange because you can’t recall the last time you were nervous around someone you found attractive. But Seonghwa, who seems to be as fragile as fine china, is in your hands at this moment. One wrong move and you’re going to drop him and make things even worse.

               “Well…uh…usually, you know, I don’t go for the…nerdy type.” Would he be insulted by that? “I was curious because I couldn’t picture such a thing. Like you…being like that. In bed. With the…you know.” You gesture vaguely, unable to mention his rumored big dick again now that you’re sober.

               “Right, yeah, of course,” He says quickly, too quickly, “I get that. And I know what people are like when drunk. Not thinking clearly.” Seonghwa looks as if he wants to flee which only makes you talk faster.

               “But you were so nice to me. With the coffee. I’ve been…struggling with work lately.” That puts it mildly. “And you were there when I needed someone. And I wasn’t…lying. Last night. When I said that I feel safe with you.”

               He looks a little more comforted by this, enough that he is looking up at you through those long lashes.

               “But I also…You know…uhm…” You trail off, unsure how to word the next part. Seonghwa looks at you curiously. God, it would be so easy to lie and let him believe I was just drunk last night and that was the end of it, you think.

               In fact, any regular person would leap at the lie and use it as a cover. But Seonghwa is still wringing his fucking hands together and you keep watching his fingers and you can’t believe it but you think you’re getting wet again – and this time you can’t blame booze. His entire posture, a mixture of tense and awkward, is strangely endearing. You quickly wonder what he would sound like in bed again and then try to banish the thought.

               You’ve been quiet for so long that Seonghwa gently goes, “You were saying?”

               But you aren’t really sure what you’re saying. Naturally, that means you keep going. “I do…wonder. If…maybe you’d want to…as friends…with benefits. Because like I said you’re not my type but my body seems to be like…reacting to you…ever since I heard the rumor. And I want to know if the rumor has merit.”

               Wow, amazing. Fantastic speech. Not only were most of your sentences unfinished but you basically asked Seonghwa to have sex with you just to see how your body responds like it’s a science experiment.

               Seonghwa is turning red again. His voice is slightly hoarse when he replies with, “Are you – ah. Are you asking to have sex with me? As friends?”

               “Y…yes.”

               Seonghwa’s breathing quickens and he looks away for a moment. You immediately want to crawl in a hole and hide.

               “I’m sorry,” You say hastily, “I don’t know what’s come over me. I tell you we’re friends and then immediately ask you for sex after offending you with some ridiculous rumor.” Your hands grip your knees, bracing yourself to stand up and to get out of here as quickly as possible. “Listen, I’m going to get my stuff and go. I’m just gonna Uber back to my place, don’t worry about it –”

               Seonghwa’s hand suddenly rests gently on top of yours. The touch knocks the breath out of your lungs. You stare at the sight of his long fingers extending over yours, his hand warm against your skin.

               “Okay,” is all he says quietly.

               Hardly daring to look up from the sight of his hand, you lock eyes with him. He is still blushing but looks resolute.

               “Uhm,” You exhale, “Sorry, I’ve never started a sexual encounter like this before.”

               “Me either,” Seonghwa shifts nervously and then says, “How about I just kiss you and if you like it, we can keep going? If you don’t feel anything, then it’s just the rumor clogging your head.”

               “S-sure.”

               Seonghwa carefully raises his other hand up towards your cheek, brushing against your skin with the back of his fingers. You shiver at the small touch, staring at him as he shifts closer to you. Acutely aware of how utterly surreal this is, you can only look at him as he cups your cheek. He grazes your lips with his thumb and your lips reflexively part at the touch. Your entire body feels as if it is tingling.

               You try to tamper down any expectations when Seonghwa leans forward to kiss you. You’re expecting the kiss to be awkward and messy in that unskilled way. You are waiting for him not to know what to do with his tongue and just roll it around in your mouth. Then, you’d tell him thanks but the rumor obviously had taken over your mind and it is better to remain friends without benefits.

               But then Seonghwa’s lips do touch yours as you close your eyes. It is a jolt to all your senses, white noise in your head as he kisses you so gently at first that you could imagine the touch. Your breath catches, heart rate accelerating as the kiss continues. His hand resting on top of yours gives a small squeeze, his other hand trailing to the back of your neck.

               You can feel yourself melting into the kiss, the tension seeping out of your body as Seonghwa’s tongue slips inside your mouth. There is a heat blossoming in your chest as your thighs clench. He trails small circles against your skin on your lower neck, making you shiver. Your tongue is against his now, your hand moving upwards to grip the front of his shirt, crumpling the Star Wars image up in your fist. He makes a small noise that only spurns you on more. You pull on the shirt so that he is closer, sliding into his lap, straddling him on the couch.

               Something drives you forward with reckless abandon, throwing caution to the wind and replacing it with desire. Seonghwa seems to mirror your feelings, his hands moving to your lower back, wiggling underneath the shirt to touch your bare skin. He presses down slightly, pushing you against him.

               You can feel the bulge in his sweatpants now and with a jolt, you think that maybe the rumor about the size is going to be true. Your hands are in his hair, his soft blonde locks curled around your fingers as the kissing continues.

               Your hangover is now a distant thought; making out with Seonghwa seems to be a miracle cure for a headache. Instinctively, you grind your hips against his bulge and he inhales sharply. His hands move to your ass, gripping the tender flesh there in his hands in a silent urge for you to keep going. You rock your hips against him, your pussy soaking wet. So much for just a kiss, you think dryly, marveling at the way your body responds to Seonghwa.

               His phone suddenly rings, jolting you a little by the noise. He glances over at it – it is on the kitchen counter – and gives a small shake of his head.

               “Ignore it,” He mumbles and you don’t mind doing that at all, resuming the kiss easily.

               The phone falls silent. Seonghwa’s breathing is heavy, mingling with your own, and kissing is becoming not enough. You want more and when he begins to kiss down your jawline and your neck, you reach behind you to take one of his hands and bring it forward, guiding him underneath the band of your sweatpants.

               He doesn’t hesitate now that you’ve given silent permission. You’ve been thinking about his hands ever since the rumor made you turn attention towards him and now Seonghwa presses his palm against the front of your underwear as his lips find yours again.

               You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. When the kiss breaks, you take in the sight of Seonghwa, breathless, his chest rising and falling quickly. His cheeks are tinted pink and his eyes are wide behind his large frames. You think about the times you’ve taken note of him in the past – a couple seconds of walking past him quickly in the hallway, not paying any attention because he came off as such a wallflower or zoning out when he talked in a meeting because you never could understand what he was saying and it made you feel stupid and insecure, and even the couple of times you giggled over someone making a joke at his expense. And now here you are, in his lap, with his hand against your cunt and every nerve in your body screaming for him. Jokes on me.

               Seonghwa pushes your underwear to the side, his fingers probing your folds as he leans forward and kisses you again. The sensation of his fingers touching you is making you dizzy. From this angle, it’s too difficult for his fingers to enter you which is about the only thing in the entire world you want at this moment.

               Muffled because of the kissing, you mumble, “Will you – your fingers –”

               To your surprise, Seonghwa smiles for a second against your lips. You pull away, just enough to see his expression. “What?” You ask.

               “Nothing, I just…I noticed you looking at my hands a lot the past few days.”

               Now it is your turn to feel embarrassed. “Oh, I…” You don’t really know what to say. It’s difficult to think when all you want is him.

               “Here, sit next to me,” He pats the space next to him and you slide off his lap.

               Seonghwa then gets on the floor in front of you, reaching upwards and sliding your sweatpants off your hips, leaving you in just your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. He brings two fingers to the front of your underwear, pressing down on the fabric. “Well, she said he ate pussy like a champ.” Your coworker’s words bounce around in your head as Seonghwa removes your underwear and pushes your legs open so that you’re spread out in front of him.

               It’s a bit surreal to be in Seonghwa’s apartment on a Sunday morning, sitting on his couch half naked, with him on his knees in front of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as comfortable. You stare at the way his fingers dig into your skin, wanting nothing more than to have them buried in your cunt just to see what it feels like.

               But he leans forward and very carefully, using just the tip of his tongue, he flicks it across your swollen clit. You shudder, gasping but Seonghwa keeps a firm grip on your thighs to keep you spread in front of him. He doesn’t stop, using the tip of his tongue to stimulate your clit. Your hands grip the cushions of the couch, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Seonghwa’s tongue brushing against your nub. His eyes are closed and no matter how much your body shakes from the pleasure, his hold on your thighs doesn’t lessen, keeping you in place.

               You are cursing loudly, taken aback by just how good he can make you feel with the tip of his tongue. His pace steadily increases against your clit. Your hips buck but he doesn’t stop, his tongue expertly dancing over your sensitive nub.

               Distantly, you are aware his phone is ringing again. But he doesn’t stop and you aren’t about to bring things to a halt for a fucking phone call. You thought Seonghwa would be messily rolling his tongue around – or even worse, just focusing on your hole and wondering why you couldn’t finish. The rumor saying he could eat pussy seemed as ridiculous as all the other aspects of what your coworker told you.

               Forcing your eyes open, you look down at Seonghwa working your clit. There is something sexy about how he looks, with his eyes closed, using just the tip to make you feel this good, and his hands holding you in place. Even his glasses, usually something you found so dorky before, look good on him now.

               He still hasn’t put his fingers inside you but your climax is rapidly approaching. You want to try to tell him you’re close but speaking is impossible. All that leaves your mouth are garbled noises of pleasure and occasionally you whine out his name. Your knuckles are white from gripping the cushions and your orgasm suddenly begins, hips bucking but Seonghwa holds them down.

               Your head rolls back against the couch as the pleasure overtakes you. Your entire body tingles, skin incredibly warm. Seonghwa slows down as you cum until your hips lower back down. Only then he pulls away. Breathless, you can’t even look down at him because your body feels heavy from how intense the orgasm was.

               Seonghwa releases his hold on your thighs but quietly goes, “Leave your legs spread, I want to see your pussy.”

               It’s the first time something vulgar has left his mouth this entire time and it turns you on. Having talked to Seonghwa only a couple of times very quickly prior to this week, you never thought you’d hear such a sentence from him especially directed at you.

               Finally, he brings his fingers to your cunt, spreading your lips open slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

               You think you reply but it comes out a bit garbled.

               But Seonghwa takes it as an affirmative and goes, “Last night, when you asked me to dance…what were you thinking about?” To your amazement, he actually looks shy after asking even though he just made you cum thirty seconds ago.

               This meant you had to form words now, an arduous task given the circumstances. “I was wondering if you were in shape because sometimes the way your work clothes looked on you…and I was thinking about if the rumors about you were true. And…” You swallow, “I was thinking about your fingers and how long they were.”

               As soon as the words leave your mouth, Seonghwa slides a finger in your hole, making you gasp in both relief and surprise. He looks a bit satisfied and you realize he must have known you were thinking about his fingers and just wanted to hear you admit it.

               “What do you think?” He murmurs, “Does it feel long?”

               His finger is completely buried in your cunt and he wiggles it slightly, making you clamp down around it instinctively. Seonghwa’s eyes move upwards to look at you, taking in the sight of you whimpering and clearly wanting more.

               He inserts another finger while going, “Does it feel how you thought it would?” Slowly, he moves his two fingers in your cunt, and you can hear how soaking wet your hole is.

               You watch, entranced at the sight of Seonghwa’s long and slender fingers pumping in your cunt. Each time he pulls them out, you can see your juices smeared across his skin before he pushes them back inside. He wiggles them each time they are buried in your hole and it feels so good that you don’t think you can talk. You try to move your hips in time with his fingers but his other hand keeps your hips down against the couch.

               The phone is ringing again. You’d wish it would shut up already. Seonghwa seems too dazed to even notice, staring at your cunt swallowing his fingers.

               “Is that the sort of thing you were thinking about? How my long fingers would feel in your tight cunt?” He asks softly, “You’re really tight. I don’t know how I’m going to fit inside you.”

               The confession catches your breath because he is teasing you now, skirting around the rumor about his big dick without showing you.

               “You can barely take my fingers. You think you can take another one?”

               “Yes,” You breathe out, “I can. I can take your cock too.”

               “We’ll see about that, baby,” He murmurs and the affectionate use of ‘baby’ makes you shiver.

               Another finger dips into your hole as Seonghwa finger fucks you. His pace has steadily increased but with three fingers, you can feel your hole jammed full of him. He’s right, you are tight and you don’t know how you’d take his apparent big cock but the universe knows you’d be trying.

               Seonghwa leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit while finger banging your hole as much as your cunt allows. You groan, the pleasure spiking, your hand grabbing onto his blonde hair as he finally releases his hold on your hips. This allows you to grind your pussy against his fingers as he sucks hard on your clit. To your amazement, you know that you’re going to cum again already. He doesn’t let up on your clit or your hole, his fingers making obscene noises from how wet you are. When he wiggles them inside you, it’s enough to make your brain hazy with pleasure.

               You curse as your second climax begins. You can feel yourself gushing around his fingers, your juices smearing all over his fingers down to his palm. You’re grinding against his face, probably making a mess on his glasses too for all you know but cannot stop yourself. You’re moaning and whimpering, your head pressing against the back of the couch as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

               Collapsing against the couch when the orgasm begins to fade, you can hardly catch your breath. Your entire body tingles. You cannot recall the last time you had someone make you cum that close together. You didn’t even know it was possible.

               Opening your eyes, you look downwards at Seonghwa. He has pulled his fingers out of your hole and put them in his mouth, tasting you. His glasses are slightly askew and messy in the most pornographic way. His tongue swirls around his fingers. The entire image is immediately burned into your brain.

               The phone rings again. Annoyed, you glare at it on the counter. “Should you answer that?” Not that you don’t want to hop on his dick immediately but the mere fact they won’t stop calling makes you worry something bad has happened and you’re keeping Seonghwa from it for your own selfish reasons.

               “I should although admittedly I don’t want to,” He replies, standing up.

               The bulge in his pants is evident and large. You hope the phone call won’t take long so you can jump on him. It’s amazing how he’s made you cum twice already but you still want more.

               He looks at his phone and frowns. “It’s work,” He directs this at you before answering, “Hello?” A long pause as someone rambles on the other end. Then, “No one else can help you with this?” More silence, more rambling from the other end. “No, I’m just…I’m in the middle of something, that’s all,” He mumbles, shooting you a glance, “Yeah, I get it. No, we don’t want that to happen. Yeah, give me an hour, alright?”

               Your stomach falls as Seonghwa ends the call and looks chagrined. “I’m sorry. I gotta go into the office. The new guy fucked up the software update push and it’s gotta go out today before everyone else comes back tomorrow.”

               You distantly remember a meeting two weeks ago about a software update but since it had more to do with Seonghwa’s side than yours, you spaced out. That had been happening a lot lately.

               Still, you suddenly feel shy and embarrassed, quickly snatching up your underwear off the floor. “Right, yeah, I get it.”

               “Let me drive you home on my way in,” He says hurriedly, scampering back over as you slip your underwear back on.

               You really don’t want to Uber after being half fucked, in another man’s clothes, slightly hungover so you accept. Seonghwa looks relieved; he is jittery like he expects you to be mad over the fact he has to go to work. He sits down next to you, looks as if he is going to reach for your hand and then has second thoughts.

               “I’m sorry again,” He says.

               You want to laugh. Seonghwa, the least likely guy on the planet, just made you cum twice and he’s apologizing? You aren’t even sure for what. You reach up for his glasses, gently removing them from his face. He looks confused.

               “You might wanna clean these before you go in,” You say quietly and he realizes the state they are.

               He blushes, nodding. “Y-yeah, good idea. Thanks.” He takes the glasses back, scurrying off to get cleaned up for work.

               You sit there, torn between confusion over where exactly this left you and Seonghwa, how a guy like him could make you feel so good, and what happens next.

               Well, you think, at least I know one part of the rumor is definitely true. He really can eat pussy like a champ.

PART TWO HERE.

🌻 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @hwalysm - @revehosh - @mulletjoonsupremacy - @byungaji - @erensluut - @singularity777 - @hwa-whiskers - @luxvatz - @seonghwasstar - @eyesonlyformingi - @rxnexxi - @rosealie05 - @xirenex - a couple of you couldn’t be tagged so i’ll message you separately, sorry.

[dangerously-human]

Was going to crash for a nap on the couch when I got home this afternoon, but I'm glad I didn't. The neighbor children knocked on my door to tell me one of my plants on my front patio fell over - which was very cute - and then they helped me get it back in the pot and recover as much of the spilled dirt as possible. They were intrigued by my tomatoes and excited when I said they could take some anytime they wanted (even the child who answered confidently "noooo" when I asked if they liked tomatoes, lol). This gave me the opening I've been looking for to give them a box of sidewalk chalk I bought on sale at the beginning of the summer, with an invitation to draw on my side of our patio if they needed extra room, since I'm certainly not using it. They were so excited and lined up to all give me a hug. I don't really have relationships with any of my adult neighbors - some will say hello to me in passing, but even then, I'm still very much regarded as an outsider most of the time - but the kids are far less wary, and by virtue of the whole neighborhood of children gathering in my yard most days, and the little girls who rule the squad and have decided they like my fashion sense, I've got some minor street cred with the kids. Living here has been a lesson in patience and gentleness for me - by nature I'm selfish with my space; I don't like all the yelling in my yard, or the trash that inevitably follows - but I'm really working on being the hands and feet of Jesus in the small ways where I'm planted, you know? And so often, the invitation to partner with him in hospitality comes in the small things.

[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

[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!

[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

[hometoursandotherstuff]

2008 Fairy tale compound for sale on Orcas Island, WA. 2bds, 2ba, 1,355 sq ft, $2.295m.

Entrance gates to the compound.

Bridge to the front door of the treehouse supported by 6 massive Douglas Firs.

It certainly is homey and fairy tale-like, isn't it?

The description says "carefully curated," plus the price tag, says to me that it may include the furnishings. That's a pretty wood burning stove.

Very cottagey kitchen. There's also an outdoor kitchen. I like the sink and cute little oven.

Nice sleep loft.

Cozy rustic bath.

Stone patio with a lovely pool.

Beautiful seating area.

From the pool, you can see the fir trees supporting the treehouse.

This is some pretty compound.

Now, let's look at the little stone cottage. Isn't this cute?

Cozy, light filled living room has a gorgeous stone fireplace.

There's a small kitchen, but I don't see much here.

That wonderful building is the art studio. Isn't this great?

Plus, this vintage Airstream trailer is included.

Here's a patio with a stone fireplace.

And, this is the outdoor kitchen.

30.43 Acres of surrealistically beautiful property.

https://www.zillow.com/homes/354-Nighthawk-Ln-Olga,-WA-98279_rb/94682828_zpid/

[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

[dira333]

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part XII

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 12: (2,3k words)

The lozenges his father bought him taste awful and it’s annoying to have to write out everything he wants to say but you’re curled up next to him on the big living room couch, eyes droopy from exhaustion as his family brainstorms.

“If we put a little heater into the garden house, you could live there until you can move back into your apartment.” His mother offers after you’ve politely explained that you won’t be able to move in with them.

Touya is, after all, still in rehabilitation and you will have to explain all of this at the hearing that is held when he’s finished his first year of working for you.

“I would have to go over that with his rehabilitation officer.” You don’t outright say no and that’s good enough for him right now, but not his mother.

“You do need a room to prepare the Bouquets for the offices, right?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Until you have a better room to do it in, you can do it here.”

“That’s only two work days.” Natsuo reminds her. “Where would they work the rest of the time?”

Touya waves around his notepad to signal that he wants to say something and starts writing when everyone’s eyes are on him.

When he hands it over to you to read it aloud, he’s still a bit unsure of his idea.

“We could ask the coffee shop next door to use their patio. They won’t need it during the winter.”

You look up at him, hope visible in your features.

“That’s a great idea.” You say. “All we’d need is a tent or a greenhouse as shelter and some heaters. Our customers wouldn’t have to walk further to find us too. We’ll ask tomorrow.”

After that, it’s time for bed. Well, at least for you, as you’re clearly unable to keep awake much longer, and he’s exhausted as well.

-

His feet pull him back to your room though, instead of his own, knocking softly against the door.

You’re already in your pajamas, a droopy smile on your face as you realize that it’s him.

He opens his mouth to speak, willing to test his throat again, but your finger is on lips as you shake your head and pull him into your room.

Their guest room is smaller than his own bedroom, now filled to the brim with the plants you saved from the fire. There’s only a small path leading to the bed and you pull him along by his forearm, urging him to sit down.

When he does, you take his bandaged hands and pull them up, dropping a kiss on each bandaged palm before looking up at him with an emotion in your eyes he hasn’t seen there before.

“Thank you.” You whisper. “For doing all this. I can never repay you.”

He shakes his head, readying himself to speak again when you shush him yet again.

“I have to say this now or I might never dare to.”

His mouth is dry, tongue sticking to his teeth as he wishes for one more of his awful lozenges. At least it would give him something to do.

You take a deep breath and look to your side where the battered holiday cactus is placed on your nightstand.

“I cannot offer you anything.” You start, your voice a little wobbly but serious. “I don’t know how long it will take to rebuild the shop but I know I will never have a big company. You’ve pushed the sales so much already, but even if I’d be able to keep this growth up, I don’t want something big. I just want a quiet life. I can’t offer you more than that and it’s okay, it really is, if you take your out now. The door is open, you can grow on your own. Rico will take you in and help you on your last steps if you want. You can go back to school and become a landscape architect or open up your own shop when you’re ready. You’ve got the talent, all you need is a little bit of experience and help. I will not hold you back or hold it against you.”

“Why do you want me to leave?” He asks, voice hoarse, the sound still hurting his throat a little.

You’re crying now, silent tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I don’t want you to wake up and realize you’ve outgrown me.”

“Can’t you see I’m doing my best to reach your height?” He asks. “And I’ve not even reached your knees.”

You laugh, a wobbly, wet sound and he pulls your hands as you give in, fall into him and fit just perfectly onto his lap.

Your head fits snuggly under his chin, your tears dry in his shirt, but you’re there with him, so close that he can hear both your hearts beat in sync.

“I will not leave.” He whispers. “No matter how long the door stays open.”

You don’t fall asleep in his arms, even though he wishes you could.

When your tears have dried, you climb off him and remind him that there are still three months left until his hearing. That you will have to speak on his behalf. 

“I love you.” You say, your hand in his hair, your eyes full of an emotion that makes his skin feel tight around his bones, “But we cannot date before this isn’t over.”

He takes your hands and presses a kiss into each palm.

“I can be patient.” He whispers, careful about his throat.

“Go to bed then,” You tell him, as if you’re not holding him captive with your eyes and your smile.

He dreams of the two of you that night, grown into each other and around each other, like the tree in his garden.

- 

You are not dating.

You are not sleeping under the same roof.

You do not kiss and he hasn’t told you he loves you since that night at his house.

At least not aloud, with words that others can hear.

He’s bought you a pair of gloves, the warmest pair he could find. One that would keep your hands warm but allow you to use them at the same time.

You buy him a similar pair, handing him his present the day he gifts you yours, laughter filling the air when you realize that you’ve both had the same thought. 

Your shop is now a greenhouse on the patio of the coffee shop, the doors open during the day to let in customers even though it’s freezing outside.

He makes sure to keep you warm and fed and even though the days are long, you stay longer, pretending to busy yourself around the little makeshift shop to talk to him.

You talk about Toga’s life and Shouto’s broken heart, Rico’s inability to get a second date and Kibe-san’s moods. 

You talk until it gets too cold to stay, until he drives you home so that he can park in front of your temporary apartment, and keep talking, until even the car turns cold and you hug him goodbye, whispering a quick “See you tomorrow.”

Three months feel like an eternity but the days pass before him in the blink of an eye.

-

“Hey,” He says one evening as you’re closing up. It’s slowly getting warmer and the apartment building is almost finished too. “How old are you? You know, just in case I’d be dating a minor.”

You laugh.

“And here I thought you’d step up to it and guess correctly.”

He looks at you, at the grin you’re sporting, and shoots his shot one last time.

“You’re my age.”

“Bingo.” You grin. “Now was that so hard?”

“But we didn’t go to school together, right? I would have remembered you, I think.”

You shake your head, still clearly amused at how this topic still occupies his mind.

“No, I went to a public school not far from here.”

“Jinbocho?” He guesses correctly but frowns. “That school looks so new.”

“It is. I went to the old one before it burned down. Just down the street from the park. It was… uh…” You hesitate for a second. “I was in the building when it burned down. I was an angsty teen back then and the school was going to be rebuilt soon. I think I wanted to collect old flowers and stuff from in there or something like that.”

“How long ago was that?” He asks, half his mind focused on the question of your saviors identity, the other half concerned for you. “How do you feel about it now?”

“Not gonna lie, the fire freaked me out a bit. If you’d-” Your voice breaks and he steps forward to take your hand, to hold it in the relative safety of their makeshift shop. 

“I needed you to be safe.” He whispers and you nod. “I understand that. But I need you to be safe too.”

“I am.” He promises. “I will be.”

You hug him, not as long as he’d like, but your head fits perfectly against his shoulder as you let him sway you around for a second.

“I was thirteen,” you tell him when you step back again, voice serious as you pretend to be busy with the cut flowers.

“We just got out of a rough spot with the shop and mom didn’t want me to spend money on anything, scared we’d not have it later when we’d really need it. All I wanted was to go shopping with friends. I didn’t even need stuff, I just wanted to be able to walk through a shopping center with them. Mom always thought that pretending to shop would just lead to us actually shopping.”

He listens to you talk, never tired of the tales of your life. 

There’s so much he still wants to know. How you dressed back in school. What your friends were like back then. Did you join a club in school or stay home helping with the shop?

Your smile returns as you talk until you end up laughing, snorting at the memory of your father trying his hand at owning a pet goldfish. He’s not sure how one memory could lead to another and another and eventually to this, but he laughs with you, too enamored with your smile to keep himself from it.

“You should get home.” You remind him. “I can’t afford to pay you for overtime.”

“I’ll take you.” He slips into his jacket and hands you your scarf. “Any chance you want to grab some food on the way?”

“Touya.” You sound a little exasperated but there’s still a smile tugging on your lips. “I think buying me food could be considered dating.”

“Oh, we’re not dating.” He reassures you with the same smile. “I buy all my friends dinner when I drive them home.”

“Sure, sure.” You roll your eyes fondly when he opens the car door for you and waits for you to slip inside. “I’ll ask Toga about that when she comes by the next time.”

He laughs and jogs around the car to get into the driver’s seat.

“Toga doesn’t count as a friend. She’s more of an annoying younger sibling.”

-

He forgets about your story over your banter until he returns home and finds his father at the kitchen table, struggling with the phone in his hands.

“Hey Dad.” He pours himself a glass of juice. “Do you remember that school in Jinbocho? The one that burned down?”

“Huh? I’m not sure, but do you know- ugh, do you know how this thing works? I’m supposed to log into this app that my assistant downloaded but I can’t figure out how it works.”

“Show me.” He takes a look and snorts. 

“The newspaper app? Don’t you have that already?”

“You know I struggle with small writing. I like the newspaper better in paper.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, grandpa.” He logs in and, after a sudden idea, types something into the search field.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just looking if they have an article about that school. Remember when I asked you if you ever saved a girl from a fire? Maybe you remember it when you see a picture.”

“Son, there are just too many fires to remember them all.” His father sighs but grabs his reading glasses again when Touya turns the phone and proudly presents an article.

“Huh. I mean, I remember that building, but I don’t remember being called to a fire there. When did that happen?”

Touya checks for the date and watches the gears in his father’s head turn.

“That wasn’t so long after you’ve left us. November… I might be off a few days but I think that was when Natsuo brought home a stomach bug and we all went down for a week. I don’t remember being called to a fire around that time.”

Touya huffs in annoyance.

“But if you didn’t save her and Shouto didn’t save her, who did?”

“Well if it wasn’t you either, it might have been something with a quirk that involves being fireproof. It’s admirable that you’re so invested in this but if your boss isn’t pushing for an answer, maybe you shouldn’t either.”

Touya rolls his eyes at that advice and picks the phone up one last time, looking at the pictures of the school, before and after the fire.

The sight triggers something in his mind he can’t access but then again, he’s walked past that building year after year after year as a child, of course he’d remember it.

taglist: @misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat @chelseaquake @tiredslepz @frozen-phoenix17 @spltbtch @touyasprettydoll @dream-girl-stuff

taglist is open, if you want to join, just mention it in a comment or send me a message.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[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