#silver cable porch surround

[signetringsandpreppythings]

Uncovered Deck Seattle An illustration of a sizable, modern backyard deck without a cover

[mazerimmer]

Uncovered Deck Seattle An illustration of a sizable, modern backyard deck without a cover

[undertheorangetree]

La Petite Mort (Ptolemaea)

Summary- Aemond has waited generations for this moment and he will not let it slip through his fingers.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DDDNE. DUBCON. NSFW. Female reader. Dark Aemond. Blood. Gore. Kidnapping. Obsessive behaviour. Vampire mind control? Reincarnation. Biting. Vampire venom makes you horny. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Overstimulation. Technically character death. This is unhinged.

Author’s Note- It’s a spooky season special and I’m so nervous about this one besties. I know that vampire Aemond is a whole thing but it’s a thing for a reason that’s just his vibe. This is darker than usual so plz read the warnings and read at your own risk. The rest is on AO3 link belowww

dividers by me lmao

She knows she's screwed when her car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but her phone battery dying all but confirms it.

Throwing it into the passenger seat with a guttural sigh, she drops her head into her hands and fights the urge to start crying in frustration. She knew that traveling at night was a bad idea but she had managed to talk herself out of her worries, convincing herself that she would be able to make good time with so few cars on the road. She regrets it now, stranded on the shoulder of some half abandoned backroad, no other people or cars in sight. The rain is coming down in buckets, heavy enough that she's surprised that it hasn't yet flooded the street, raindrops pounding on the roof of her car like a drum.

There isn't so much as a porch light back here. Nothing but heavy forest that makes her feel as if she is lost in time and she is sure the longer she is alone, the more likely her mind is to play tricks on her.

She flicks on her hazard lights as she tries to decide what best to do. Staying in her car seems unsafe somehow, stuck on the shoulder of the road beside a corner. Though the street is empty now, another car will show up at some point and she can already see the inevitable car crash in her mind's eye. But leaving the safety of her car seems just as bad.

She doesn't know what's in the surrounding woods and with visibility as bad as it is now, with the rain coming down and the moon just barely able to provide some semblance of light, there is no truly safe option.

There are no nearby homes. No other cars. No payphones or a way to charge her own phone. She is completely and hopelessly stuck.

Though she knows it's pointless, she still reaches for her phone, holding down on the power button in vain. The empty battery graphic flashes up at her, the charging cable beneath it feeling almost mocking now and grunts angrily, throwing it to the side again. But just as she is about to resign herself to a night of sleeping in her car until morning, there is a flash of headlights in her rearview mirror. She pokes her head up, eyebrows furrowed as she turns and watches a car slow until their window is equal to hers, the glass rolling down.

A man's face greets her, one that seems to be about her age. His face is contorted with vague concern as he looks at her, an eyepatch concealing a third of his face. He has a kind of air about him, regal and almost ethereal to the point where it's almost unsettling. It's nearly otherworldly in a way that almost feels... wrong.

Looking at him, she feels a primal lurch in her stomach, as if the man before her isn't quite right. It's no wonder she feels that way, with his near flawless skin and silver hair that must cost a fortune to dye. That's likely no problem, with how expensive his car looks. She thinks it must cost at least four times her own but she's thankful for just how ancient her car is now, rolling the manual crank until there is a large enough crack for her to speak, the rain immediately splattering inside and wetting both her door and face.

"Car trouble?" he asks and she forces a polite smile despite her irritation at her predicament.

"Unfortunately. Do you know if there's a gas station nearby?"

She had already been to a gas station this evening, less than an hour ago. Though her car had shown no signs of betrayal when she had been filling her gas tank, she thinks that it may be too far to walk to now.

The concern on his face morphs into sympathy. "None that will be open so late. Do you know what's wrong with it?"

She gives a frustrated shake of her head. "No idea. It was completely fine and then it just started sputtering and crapped out."

"Have you called a tow truck yet?"

The question makes her pause. As polite as this man has been thus far, she has no interest in informing him that her phone is dead. And though he has given her no reason to think otherwise, his line of questioning is beginning to border on a few too many to be seen as simple concern for a stranger. She wants to believe that is all it is but he's looking at her a little too earnestly for her to ignore, his eyes following her every move as if the rain threatens to shield his view.

"Not yet. I was going to try some friends first, try to save some money. They don't live far from here so I shouldn't have to wait long."

That’s a boldfaced lie but he doesn’t need to know that.

"I wouldn't leave your car here for long if I were you," he warns, turning to look over his shoulder toward the corner. "It would be best to call a tow truck to really save yourself some money. You'll have a couple thousand in damages if you leave it here."

Read the rest here

[earlgreydream]

𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥. || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐟𝐨𝐫 @little-diable​​​‘s 𝟒 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧��𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 / 𝐟𝐨𝐠 & 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 / 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 / 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟏𝟓𝟎

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

Thunder rattled the shutters on the side of the house, making your grip tighten on the teacup in your hands. You breathed in the chai-scented steam, pulling your feet under you. A movie droned softly on in the background, a blanket draped over you, but you weren’t really paying attention; you were looking out the window at the endless grey fog.

A storm was only miles away, rolling over the fields and swallowing the countryside whole. The thunder boomed over the hills, surrounding you with its unforgiving power, promising the certainty of its arrival. You stood, opening the door out to your covered porch, breathing in the smell of the approaching rain.

The fog was so thick, you couldn’t see to the end of your drive. Everything around you was a thick grey haze, making you feel as if you were stuck in an old black-and-white film, caught in a world out of your control.

“We interrupt this programming to issue a local severe weather warning, and an escaped terrorist, known as the winter soldier…” you looked over your shoulder at the television, interrupting your cable movie to play the local warning.

You lifted your tea to your lips, leaning against the railing on your porch, ignoring the warnings vying for your attention. The warnings were frequently on the news, footage reeled of the threats that seemed to come one after another, eventually desensitizing you to it.

You loved storms, because whenever they came, it always felt like something was about to happen. In the small-town country where nothing ever happened, you craved that something.

It began to rain, heavy drops pouring onto the ground, the sky opening up and releasing all of its sorrow. You hummed softly to yourself, singing a song you always had stuck in your head, the melody and lyrics resonating in your soul, finding a home along with past heartache.

I can't go on without you, and so what's the point of breaking my sweet heart?

You left the door open as you stepped back inside the house, going to set the teacup in the sink. Fresh air blew into your house, along with the smell of rain you so loved, not a worry in your peaceful evening. A clatter caught your attention, the door rattling against its hinges.

“Hello?” You called, immediately whipping around to look, though you supposed it was likely the wind.

A figure leaned against the doorframe, slouching over and struggling to hold themselves upright. You recognized the muscular man immediately, his silver arm glinting in the dim light, a broad torso covered in black combat gear.

“Please, please help me,” he choked out, a faint Russian accent hanging off his words.

He practically collapsed, the ground swaying under him as he pressed his hand to the wound on his side, rapidly bleeding. You ran to him, your bare feet slapping wooden floorboards as you went to catch him, letting him lean against you to stabilize himself. Fear never registered, only worry for the soldier that was in need, bleeding in your doorway and reduced to weakness.

“You’re hurt,” you spoke, stating the obvious as you looked outside, making sure no one was watching.

The door shut loudly, the lock falling into place as you pulled him into your kitchen. Based off of the news, you were aware that law enforcement and other, far scarier people were after him. 

You had seen him on the news, though you hadn’t expected him to be as beautiful as he was in person. Dark hair fell over his silvery blue eyes, concealing the pained gaze that was filled with torment.

He groaned as you helped him hoist himself up on the counter, lying back against the cool marble. His breathing was ragged and shallow, his chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, running to the bathroom and collecting your first aid kit, trying not to panic as the infamous killer practically bled out on your countertop.

You worked at ridding him of the bloody clothes, pulling the vest from him and taking off the shirt, tossing them in a pile on the floor before turning back to his bare torso.

“What happened?” You asked, inspecting the gash on his side, just below his ribs.

“Lost a knife fight,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as you carefully cleaned the bloody area.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized as you poured some alcohol on the wound to sterilize it, afraid of him getting an infection.

He shouted, his head falling to the side as he drew in a ragged breath. You offered him some painkillers, though you knew it would offer little relief. Your heart raced in your chest as he grabbed your hip, fighting off the pain signals exploding through his brain. You laid your hand on top of his, gently rubbing your thumb over his bruised knuckles, quietly offering some comfort as you whispered apologies for hurting him.

With careful hands, you slowly stitched the wound closed, being as gentle as possible. He was ashamed when he whimpered in pain, looking away from your guilt-ridden face. The soldier lied still, believing he deserved the pain after everything, after how he’d gotten injured in the first place.

You cleaned up the wound again, deciding to wait on bandaging it until he was cleaned up.

“Do you think you can stand?”

He nodded, weakly getting up with you. You supported his weight as you led him to the bathroom, starting a shower for the soldier. You watched him — James clearly struggling — before you stepped under the water with him, gently massaging soap into his dark waves.

You had so many questions, but you fought the urge to interrogate the assassin. His breathing was pained, making your own chest ache as you listened. Worry bubbled up in your throat, even for the allegedly dangerous criminal that you didn’t know. Though you couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone, not in the state was in now.

“Here, sit,” you helped him sink onto the edge of the tub as you grabbed a towel, drying him off and rubbing the moisture out of his hair.

You got the dressing, bandaging his side, wrapping the gauze around his toned abs. Your fingers were trembling as you knelt before him, all of the air leaving your lungs as you looked up at his eyes. As he gazed at you, you felt seen as if it was the first time someone had looked at you.

“I think I’ve got something you could wear,” you broke the silence, ripping the tension.

He followed you into the bedroom, still unsteady on his feet. You handed him some painkiller before pulling out a box of clothes, ones that had once belonged to an ex that you never returned. You handed him some sweats, thankful they somehow fit him— as they’d been oversized on the original owner.

“Thank you,” he finally broke the silence.

You nodded, closing the bedroom curtain as another boom of thunder rolled through.

“Get some rest. You’re safe here, you can relax for now,” you offered, gesturing at your bed.

His expression almost resembled a smile as he sank down into lilac sheets, exhaustion drowning him. You stepped out into the living room, standing on the rug, trying to process what was happening. The sounds of the storm pulled you out of your own thoughts, the steady thunder calming your nerves. 

.

“Hey,” you softly greeted him as he limped into the kitchen. 

“Thank you, for saving me from bleeding out.”

You nodded, turning off the stove and serving eggs and bacon onto plates. 

“There’s coffee in the machine,” you handed him a mug, earning a small smile.

“My name is James. But my friends called me Bucky,” he looked up at you with a soft gaze.

“Y/N... You’re the assassin on the news,” you nervously broached the topic, your hands wrapping around your coffee mug as you sat across from him. 

“You have no reason to believe me, but I was abducted and brainwashed by HYDRA. I’m not a killer, I never wanted to hurt anyone. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not dangerous,” he explained, sounding sincere. 

“And now? You’re just on the run? What happened?” You questioned, moving to clear the dishes. 

He stopped you, getting them himself and washing them in the sink. 

“I’ve been running from them, from their American agents. I was recognized by some local police officers when I passed through here, that’s how I got injured,” he explained.

“Let me see it,” you said, moving to change the bandages on his side. 

The rain had only slightly lightened up overnight, still coming down overhead and filling the silence. He winced as you cleaned the wound again, carefully making sure he was taken care of. 

“You should stay here, at least until you’re better. It’s just me,” you offered. 

“Thank you.” 

You nodded, your hands smoothing over the bandages. When you stood, he lightly grasped your forearm, stopping you from stepping away. 

“You’re the first person who has been kind to me since the 1940s,” James spoke, making your heart hurt. 

“Everybody deserves someone to be kind to them,” you responded, your voice choked as you struggled not to cry. 

He nodded, standing up and letting go of you. 

.

Exhaustion hit you suddenly, your eyes fluttering closed as you curled up on the corner of the couch, Bucky on the opposite end. He paused the movie you’d been watching, and gently draped a blanket over you. 

He stood and walked to the kitchen, quietly cooking a soup recipe that was open in a cookbook on your counter, one you had been meaning to make before the strange guest showed up in your home. It had been put off the entire week, you opting to get takeout because you were too tired to cook, and anxious about his healing to focus on cooking.

The home began to fill with a delicious aroma, the chill being forced out of the house by the warmth of the bread in the oven and soup on the stove. He lit fragrant candles in your home, ones he’d noticed brought you comfort. 

You opened your eyes, waking up to warmth and the smell of food you had been craving. You sat up, realizing James was no longer beside you. 

“Bucky?” You called softly, not receiving an answer. 

You wandered into the kitchen, lifting up a card that was on the counter, next to fresh bread and hot soup. 

Thank you for everything. I owe you my life and more. You’ll forever have my heart. - James Buchanan Barnes

A sob broke through your chest, realizing the soldier was gone. You ran out to the porch, hoping you could catch him before he abandoned you. 

“James?!” You screamed, running into the rain, feeling a horrible crack through your chest, the soldier you’d quickly caught feelings for, gone suddenly, leaving you alone in the storm. 

“James! Please come back!” You shouted, whipping around as if you could see him, as if he was nearby, watching you through the thick fog. 

Rain soaked your hair and clothes, freezing you to the bone. You clutched your chest, struggling to breathe through sobs, wishing you could have begged him to stay. 

. . . epilogue . . .

You had spent six years wondering what if? What if James had stayed?

The question had eaten away at you, keeping you up crying for weeks. Every time you needed comfort, you made the recipe of the soup he’d made you on the stormy night. The memory of him was ephemeral, a moment that seemed so instantaneous, yet left such a dire impact on you. 

Now, you were on your way to a new job, working for the Avengers in Stark Tower downtown. Nerves wracked your body as you walked into the high-rise, greeted by people in suits.

“Come meet the team,” Tony ushered you upstairs, into a conference room with famous faces sitting around it. 

Your gaze met a silvery-blue one, your entire body freezing as your heart stopped. 

“James?”

He stood, in shock that he was seeing you. He’d left you to keep you safe, wanting no harm to come to you because of who he was, and who was after him. Now, things were safer, and it was like the past six years had shattered and fallen away. 

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you whispered, standing out in a glass hallway with the man. 

You gingerly ran your fingertips up his new prosthetic, tracing the dark vibranium. His hair was short, and his eyes were bright and less tortured. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” he confessed, and you reached up and touched his face. 

“I know,” you breathed as the soldier’s lips met yours. 

check out little-diable’s wonderful masterlist here

[brandimolitor]

The Desire to be Noticed

As a kid growing up in a low-income, abusive and addict-based household, I escaped the pain I felt by fantasizing about another life. Being a child of the 80’s, cable TV and magazines promoted the latest celebrities and their wealth. Our society was propped up by shows like the “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,” “Dallas” and “Silver Spoons” as examples of how the world operated in success. MTV launched, fetishizing music icons with their extravagant lifestyles of freedom that came with their success and fame. I internalized this culture and rather than committing to marrying Sabastien Bach, I wanted to BE Belinda Carlisle which then moved to Gwen Stefani… someone who embodied edge and boldness. THAT, I thought, was IT. Coming from a family who couldn’t afford Christmas or trips my friends all took with their families, I believed money was the cure for feeling happy, loved and validated, and the only way to get money was through being important and known. I had to make and do something big. That was the only way.

Of course I never did anything that would bring me fame. I never sought after those types or careers, but there was a constant nagging that I had to BE SOMETHING IMPORTANT (….to the outside world).

I spent hours a day sketching “giant” houses I dreamed of living in one day. At the time, that included a house with more than one floor, a wrap-around porch and a long driveway. I wanted trees in the front. Eventually I thought I’d be an architect, until during high school I job shadowed with one and he told me to not follow through on that. He said “unless you land some big designs in big cities, you end up designing strip malls and struggling for the next job.” I threw my arms up in the air and decided no to architecture.

I realized I loved the Earth and animals, so I became committed to saving the environment through law after seeing a few big lawyer movies where the lawyer was the hero. There! I can be famous and make a huge impact AND be a savior. Until another internship where the environmental attorney said I’d be mostly working for the “bad guys” and paper pushing.

I searched and searched for meaning, often on my own, without input from anyone other than media and the occasional random adult who scratched my dreams.

These desires followed me well into adulthood, without me really knowing. They etched their way into my subconscious while I meandered through life following passions and curiosities, trying to find purpose with integrity. I attracted partners in life who also wanted to be noticed and recognized and have some level of fame, only adding to the belief I was a nobody unless I was a somebody. I constantly struggled with finding peace with my introversion and not wanting to be the center of anything.

With the onslaught of reality television, social media and “influencers” everywhere, my beliefs firmly rooted that I still didn’t have any impact on anyone and my dreams were failing, came rushing back. I compared and despaired, wondering how I suffered so much in life and still didn’t pay enough dues to get my break, while most seemed to of just gotten “lucky.” I enmeshed happiness and love with attention, recognition, admiration and money. I believed you couldn’t have one without the other. These beliefs were driving me and my incessant feeling of never being enough. I claimed I was ambitious and high achieving, but what I was really doing was still running from the pain of my childhood.

When I started to share about this, I learned I wasn’t the only one who had this running my mind… and we all know notoriety and money do not equal joy and love. :)

I slowly started to accept life and my place in it. I learned my self-esteem was being dictated by the outside world and to turn my attention inward and to create a life that felt good to me and not what other’s think about me or what I think they think about me. The process and release was really confusing and disorienting at first. I also grieved the loss of my manufactured identity. It took a whole lotta courage and a whole lotta trust and a whole lotta help. And, it’s still a work in progress.

My mission now is to leave the world better than I found it, bit by bit, sometimes in bigger gestures than others, and committing to a life and lifestyle of healing. Turns out, we’re all influencers; to the people we surround ourselves with, the cashier, the barista, the person we pass on the hiking trail, the animals we have in our lives, the earth we inhabit, the way we vote. When we lead a life of intention and source it from love, the impact is profound. If we are being influenced and influencing others by what the outside world is telling us is right or wrong based off of a capitalistic, patriarchal, privileged culture, we aren’t influencers at all. We’re merely followers.

Where do you see the need to get validation and the need to be noticed? What’s driving it? Is there a chronic push that enough is never enough and there’s a boogie man in your closet telling you you’ll never be anything if you don’t become what you once believed to be true? The driving story doesn’t have to be one of being raised in a traumatic environment, it could be parents who put a lot of pressure on you, siblings who you were told were better than you or prettier than you, a teacher who scolded you and said you weren’t good enough, a partner who decided to leave the relationship for “someone better.” The narratives we often hold in our minds we don’t even realize are there. Like I often say, these patterns and default narratives can be to us like a fish is to water, where we’re completely submerged in them, it feels like home.

One of my best investments in life was bringing others into my life to bring attention to these on-going narratives. Once released, I’m able to create peace and alignment. When we change the story, the doors to freedom start to open.

Hit me up for a chat.

[chendersonfic]

Fall River Street

The yellow cab exhaled as it rolled to a slow stop in front of the quaint four-bedroom house nestled at the end of Fall River Street. The house reminded Addison of a mausoleum, untouched by the passing of time and preserving everything on the inside without any discernment. The golden red fall leaves swept along the front yard like a royal cape. This picture was exactly why local real estate agents would favor fall as the best time for their listings, the foliage added a type of natural magic that you simply couldn’t conjure up or recreate with photoshop.

He stepped out of the cab and closed the door behind him, gazing at the house with childish apprehension. His father was dead, and this was going to be a long week. He was here to help his mother prepare the house for sale. She didn’t need four bedrooms all to herself, and she had long forgotten her past dreams of having grandchildren that would run through the hallways and bring the house alive with their noisy laughter. She was ready to downgrade to a one-bedroom apartment close to him and planned on spending the rest of her time volunteering and knitting scarves for the homeless.

But first they had to tackle a lifetime worth of accumulated garbage. If hoarding was a woman, his mother was her cousin. Nowhere near as bad as ceiling-tall piles of useless trash, but prone to collecting tchotchkes, broken kitchenware, and sentimental rubbish. Now they had a week to sort through it all before the realtor would come back with a photographer and list the empty house for sale.

“There you are honey,” said the tiny silver-haired woman who came out to greet him on the stoop. His mother looked so small, much smaller than he remembered her. Then again, it had been years.

He walked up the stairs which still had a print of his boyish hands embedded in the concrete. 

“Hey ma,” he said, and gave her a long overdue hug, then followed her inside back into his past.

Everything was just as he remembered it, down to the creaky floorboards in the hallway and the janky seashell vintage living room lamp that would provide erratic light bursts in capricious intervals.

“I made you lunch,” his mother said, making her way into the kitchen. 

“I’m not that hungry,” he called back from the living room, still looking around at all the familiar yet long-forgotten details that painted the picture of his childhood.

“You have to eat,” she replied, walking back in with a tray of soup and sandwiches. If anyone really had to eat, it was her, but he decided to skip that conversation for now. This wasn't the time to stress her out about her food intake.

He grabbed the tray from her, and they ate in the living room, surrounded by silence. If there was one thing he appreciated, it was the fact that his mother knew better than to cry in front of him. He wasn’t good at handling people’s emotions anymore, he only had room enough for his own. 

“The house is in good shape,” Addison stated, taking a sip of the chicken soup. His mother nodded.

“You know, Tom Hadley comes by to help with it,” she replied casually. He felt the soup suddenly stuck in his throat. 

“He does?”

“Yes, he’s been a big help. He came by the other week and fixed the refrigerator. Are you boys still in touch?” Addison tried to swallow, but the lump remained. He shook his head no, not being able to utter a word. 

There was a time, so long ago it felt like another lifetime altogether, when it wouldn’t have crossed his mind to leave his town and move away. He had no grandeur plans of making it out, or the need to test the waters anywhere else. He would have been content staying right where he was, close to his best friend Tom.

“Oh, before I forget. You wouldn’t mind going to check on Mrs. Beckett next door, would you? I try to look in on her at least once a day, but I think seeing your face might be good for her.” When Addison appeared confused, she added. “She has dementia now, her memory fluctuates. I think it started with Mark’s suicide you know,” she added with sadness. “I think it just permanently broke her.” The boy’s face flashed in Addison’s memory with vivid cruelty. His green eyes, his brown curly hair, and the smile that seemed almost a permanent feature of his mouth.

“Mark Beckett killed himself?” He wanted to make sure he didn’t mishear her.

“Hung himself right there in the bedroom,” she said, shaking her head. “He was a good friend of yours, wasn’t he?” Good friend was a stretch, Addison thought to himself. Mark was universally beloved at Fall River High, and if he was ever in Addison’s vicinity, it was because he was good friends with Tom. Really if he thought about it, all of his friends were Tom’s friends. He had a natural knack for it, getting people to like him. Addison was the opposite. His nose had been mostly buried in books growing up, apart from the occasional hoop session with Tom, or riding his bike through the neighborhood. His friendship with Tom started out mostly due to convenience, as the boys lived down the street from each other. But it had quickly developed into a strong bond. 

“Can I sleep in the guest room?” He asked, finishing his soup.

“Sorry honey, it’s packed with stuff. You’ll have to sleep in your old bedroom until we clear it out tomorrow.” He nodded in defeat, and after cleaning the dishes, he slowly made his way upstairs, back to his childhood bedroom. It was a museum, with everything preserved just as he had left it. The blue bed sheets, the wooden desk with carved words and scribbled phrases, and the deflated basketball abandoned in the corner. 

He put down his bag and sat down on the small twin bed. He had spent countless hours in this room, and many of them had included Tom. But he left it all behind the second that he turned 18. He first kept afloat with a restaurant job while going to a community college in the evening. And now he made his living as a video editor, making just enough to be comfortable. His small apartment housed two plants as his only company. 

He got up and walked over to the desk and opened the drawer. It contained two old textbooks, four pens, a yo-yo, and an old notebook. He opened the notebook and flipped through the pages, until he found it. A list of names scribbled over and over again, like a mantra or a spell. The ink was dark, and it looked as if he had stabbed the pages with the pen that wrote it.

Steven Hades Michael Dornes Sean Trevley Mark Beckett

The list of names went on for a countless number of pages, in that same exact order. Until he got to the last page, where a new name appeared.

Steven Hades Michael Dornes Sean Trevley Mark Beckett Tom Hadley

He closed the notebook with force, then shut the drawer in a hurry. He would get rid of it tomorrow, burn it or throw it out with the rest of the garbage. Bury it forever, never to be found again. He turned off the light and tossed and turned on the small bed for the rest on the night. 

In the morning, feeling sleep-deprived and emotionally empty, he turned on the coffee pot, hoping the brown liquid would keep him awake enough to tackle the boxes he needed to sort through in the garage. It wasn’t an easy task, and he spent the next hours rummaging through countless cords and cables, old tv remotes, Christmas decorations, pictures, and even managed to find parts of his old bicycle. 

On his lunch break, he took a beer from the fridge and sat on the front porch, watching the street. He noticed a group of people walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He spotted Tom’s distinct shuffle right away. He raised the beer to his lips and tried to remain calm. He wasn’t going to run back into the house like a coward. The group got closer, and he recognized Tom’s wife and his childhood friend, Jodie, walking next to him, along with her parents. In his arms there was a small toddler.

The group decided to stop right across from him—because God possessed a dark sense of humor—as Jodie bent down to tie her shoelace. That’s when Tom’s gaze drifted in his direction and froze. The two men made eye contact, and it wasn’t until Jodie pulled Tom by the hand a minute later, that he finally looked away and continued walking. 

Addison took a few shaky breaths. He tried to focus on something, anything, to take his mind off of what had happened. He looked at his small handprints in the pavement. His father wasn’t thrilled when he saw what Addison did to the brand-new stairs. In fact, if he remembered correctly, he caught a few belt lashes for the stunt. 

He brought his right hand and placed it over the handprint. “Nothing happened. Nothing happened. NOTHING HAPPENED!” He heard the chant in his ears and dropped the bottle of beer, letting it crash on the pavement. The yellow liquid slowly seeped into the cervices of his childhood fingers. He looked at the broken glass for a long moment, then slowly began to clean it.

The next day of cleaning was no better than the first. He finally got through the garage, then made his way into the office, while his mother still worked on the guest room. Later in the day they had lunch together, after which his mother asked him to go check in on Mrs. Beckett. 

He walked over to the house next door and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Still nothing. Just as he was about to leave, the window curtain fluttered. He stopped in his tracks.

“Mrs. Beckett? It’s Addison, your neighbor,” he called out, hoping he hadn’t scared her. A moment later the door opened, and a small older woman in a silk vintage robe and hair rollers appeared, scrunching her eyes at him, as if she were trying to place his face.

“Remember me?” He asked.

“Well of course, of course my dear. Come on in,” she replied, smiling. He felt strange about accepting her invitation, still unsure if she really remembered him, but he decided to walk into the warm living room anyway. 

“Sit down, please. I’ll make us some tea,” she motioned towards the couch, and Addison listened obediently. A few minutes later she came back, a tray with tea rattling in her shaky hands. He quickly took it from her and put it down on the table. 

“Here, your favorite,” she said, handing him a small plate with toasted bread, butter, and honey. Addison stared for a moment, trying to remember if he ever ate that food combination before in his life, but he decided not to comment. 

“So, how are you?” She asked excitedly while adding sugar to her tea.

“I’m good Mrs. Beckett. I’m here helping my mom with the house. I’m sure she’s already told you that she’s selling it,” he replied, trying to make polite conversation. She chuckled.

“My silly boy. Always with the jokes. How is school going?” She asked, and Addison was starting to get the feeling that something was not quite right.

“Uhh, I graduated many years ago, Mrs. Beckett,” he replied, but she cut him off, slightly flustered.

“Will you stop calling me Mrs. Beckett? It’s not funny anymore.” Addison stared in confusion.

“Who…who do you think I am?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well you’re my son, of course. You’re Mark,” she replied, smiling at him with fondness. “Eat up,” she said, watching the toast in his hand. Addison took a bite, unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m not Mark, Mrs. Beckett, I’m Addison. We went to the same high school. I lived in the house next door. Don’t you remember?” He asked, and something flickered in her eyes.

“Oh, don’t. No, please don’t. Don’t talk about him, Mark, you know it makes me sad,” she said, her voice quieter now. 

“Why does it make you sad?” He asked.

“What those boys did to him…it’s terrible Mark, truly awful,” she said.

“What those boys did to who, Mrs. Beckett?” He pressed on, already knowing the answer. 

“Addie, of course,” she replied, and his childhood nickname caused a sudden sharp pain in his chest.

“More tea?” She asked, smiling all of a sudden. 

“Who told you about that?”

“Who told me about what?”

“About what they did to…Addison,” he said, his name feeling clunky coming out of his own mouth. 

“I don’t know what you mean honey,” she replied confused, then brought the delicate china up to her lips and took a sip, forgetting she had said anything. He left shortly after, with Mrs. Beckett still thinking he was Mark. He didn’t have the heart to tell her twice.

He came back home and continued to work until it got dark. After dinner, he went to his bedroom and looked out the window, onto the back yard. Him and Tom would lay on that same grass and look for their constellations in the sky. They would spend hours, shoulder to shoulder, diligently making their way through the stars. They could always spot Addison’s large Pisces constellation with ease, but no matter how hard they tried, they could never find Antares—the star that marked the Scorpion’s heart.

On the fifth morning he found that the coffee machine which allowed him to get any work done while running on no sleep, broke. And despite the fact that his mother had every other unnecessary extra kitchen appliance, she did not have another coffee machine, so Addison walked over to the local breakfast spot in order to get one. He sat sipping on the hot coffee and waiting for the waffles his mom had requested, happy that her appetite seemed to be returning, when the door opened and Tom walked in, carrying his son. There was no time to hide, he saw Addison right away, and walked straight on over to him.

Tom hadn’t changed all that much, except for the beard and the few wrinkles that now surrounded his tired blue eyes. 

“Still pulling on those fingers eh?” He said by way of greeting after 17 years. Addison quickly untangled his hands, embarrassed by his nervous tick. The curly blonde child in Tom’s arms clung to him like a baby koala. 

“He’s got Jodie’s hair, but he has your eyes, nose, and lips,” Addison replied, studying the beautiful boy. Tom smiled.

“Jude,” he said, then to clear up Addison’s confusion added, “That’s his name. Jude.”

“Ah, the patron of lost causes,” Addison said. 

“Let’s just say he came to me at the right time,” Tom replied, and Addison finally met his gaze.

“He’s a beautiful child.”

“How long are you in town for?”

“Just until Sunday.” Tom nodded. 

“I’m sorry about you father,” he said, and now it was Addison’s turn to nod.

“Selling the house?”

“Yeah, my mom’s downsizing, and moving closer to me.”

“You on your own?” He asked, and both men felt the strangeness of the question.

“Yep, just me and my books and my work,” Addison replied.

“Sounds like a good life,” Tom replied. 

“I heard about Michael…Beckett.” He didn’t know what made him say it. Tom looked embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” was all he could come back with. “Dornes is doing 20 in prison for distributing drugs. And Trevley was hit by a drunk driver. Died on the spot,” he added.

“And Steven?” Addison asked, barely able to get the name through his mouth.

“He’s still around. Drinking his way to the grave,” he replied. Another name hung between them in the uncomfortable silence, but neither one of them said it.

“Here you go,” the waitress appeared and handed him the bag of food. 

“Thank you,” he replied, getting up to leave.

“Listen, why don’t you and I go out for a drink?” Tom suggested. Addison thought about it for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

“I have too much work to finish up at the house. Some other time,” he lied. He opened the door and walked out, but Tom followed him.

“Hey,” he called out and Addison stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I was a coward.”

“Don’t,” Addison pleaded, but Tom continued.

“I should have stopped it. I don’t know why, I don’t know why I froze,” but Addison couldn’t listen anymore. He walked briskly, until the voice behind him faded. 

On his way back he tried to block out the swarming memories of his childhood best friend that were now viciously attacking his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to remember. Not now, not when he had a whole day of work still ahead of him. For the next eight hours he tirelessly threw out boxes of trash, then sorted through more boxes in the attic, until his hands were black from the dust and dirt. He was so tired that he felt like he would finally be able to get some sleep. Only two more days, and he would be out of here for good. But while he could control his thoughts and memories in the daytime, he couldn’t control his dreams. 

The grass felt cool underneath his body, making him break out in goosebumps. Tom was right next to him, staring at the sky yet again.

“Still can’t find it Addie,” he complained frustrated, as his constellation continued to evade him. He had just changed the brand of his deodorant, and Addison inhaled the pleasant citrus scent. The soft white cotton shirt that clung to Tom’s rapidly growing teenage body was illuminated by the moonlight. Addison turned towards him, laying on his side. Tom turned his head. He would usually make a stupid joke, but not that night. He studied the other boy’s face carefully, then slowly leaned in. The first kiss was as soft as a feather. But when their lips touched and the world didn’t end right then and there, Tom went in again, this time more forcefully. His mouth tasted like the orange popsicle he ate on their way home from school.

Addison woke up with a start, his shirt soaked in sweat. He never thought anything could be worse than the nightmares he’d had on and off for years. But he was wrong. This was far worse. This memory that he had so carefully locked away years ago, felt like hell on earth. 

He took off his drenched shirt and changed into a dry one. It was still dark outside, but he turned on the light and began to pack his room. He needed to finish everything as quicky as possible, before he’d end up like Michael Beckett, hanging from the ceiling, waiting for his poor mother to find him.

On the 6th day Addison and his mom finished cleaning the kitchen. All that was left was the living room. They met a couple buyers who picked up some of the furniture, although his mother had insisted on keeping the unreliable vintage lamp. They were eating lunch, when the house phone started ringing. It was another neighbor. There had been a tragedy out on the lake. 

“Tom Hadley? No, not possible,” he heard his mother say, and his heart felt still. Suddenly, he remembered it as clear as day. Waiting outside of the building for Tom, who was taking longer than usual. Deciding to walk in and meet him in the locker room, where he would shower and change after hockey practice. But Tom was still talking to the coach. It was Steven Hades and Sean Trevley that he bumped into that day. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here, weirdo?” Steven spat out, his voice venom in Addison’s ear. 

“Where’s Tom?” Addison asked, uncomfortable but not yet afraid.

“Where’s Tom?” Steven mimicked him in a girlish voice. “Tom, Tom, Tom. Why do you follow him around like a creep?” He asked, approaching him. Addison felt his throat tighten. Michael Dornes walked in, and he hoped the stupid encounter would be over, but Steven continued.

“Answer me, weirdo!”

“He’s my friend,” Addison replied, his voice shaky now. Dornes ignored the scene and started changing out of his uniform. Addison prayed for Tom to come, but instead he saw Mark Beckett enter the locker room next. His famous smile still in place.

“You wanna know what I think?” Steven said, ignoring everyone else in the room and zoning in on Addison. He was inches away now. “I think you’re a fag.” Addison saw Michael’s smile vanish from his face.

“Come on Steve, leave him alone,” he said. Steven’s head snapped back to him. 

“Why are you defending him, are you a fag?” He asked. Michael laughed nervously.

“No man, come on,” he replied, then went silent.

Steven turned around and walked towards his locker, and for an incredibly naive moment Addison thought he was leaving him alone. Until he saw him grab the hockey stick.

What followed next was a blur. He was on the floor, Steven’s massive form pressing into his back with his knee. He couldn’t breathe. He heard Steven shouting for Michael to hold down his legs, which he didn’t realize were flailing around, trying to kick off the larger boy. And then he felt his pants and underwear being roughly pulled down, and everything went white as the piercing pain tore him in half. At some point he looked up, and saw the blue eyes staring back at him in frozen horror from the locker room’s entrance. They were Tom’s.

He was discovered by the coach, about 10 minutes later, who ushered him to the nurse. When they asked him about what happened, all he could reply was, “Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened!” If he said it enough times, it would surely come true.

“There was an accident,” his mother said, sitting down across from him and waking him up from his memories.

“What happened?” She wasn’t sure yet, but the neighbor said it involved a dead body and Tom Hadley. It was later that night that the woman would call back with the full story. 

In the early hours of October 4th, a small fishing boat containing two men left the local harbor. Only one man returned: Tom Hadley. Steven Hades’ body was fished out by divers a few hours later. Tom Hadley was let go almost instantly, without any suspicion of foul play. He told the sheriff that they had been drinking, and he fell asleep. When he woke up, a drunk Steven had gone overboard. The sheriff had no reason to doubt the story. Steve was a notorious drunk.

The next day was his last day in town. The house was almost empty, apart from a few more pieces of furniture. His mother was going to stay with her sister for a week, and then come down to her new apartment. 

Later that day, without even really knowing why, he found himself at Tom Hadley’s house. He stood at the front door for a moment, but just as he had decided to leave, the door opened, and a curly haired blonde woman popped out.

“Addie!” She chirped. “I didn’t know you were in town!” He smiled.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning just thought I’d pop in and say goodbye.”

“No! If I knew you were here earlier, I’d have invited you over for dinner. You’re catching me at a bad time now, I’m getting ready to fly out for a conference in a couple hours. But please, come on in. We can catch up while I pack!” He wanted nothing less than to catch up with Jodie, but he didn’t want to be rude, so he followed her inside.  

He sat on the edge of the bed as she stuffed her suitcase with clothes. 

“Is Tom here?”

“No, he took Jude for a ride. That little sweet monster is teething and being a complete nightmare. He only calms down in the car for some reason.”

“The joys of parenthood,” Addison replied, not knowing what to say. The good thing about Jodie was that you didn’t have to say much, she usually had the conversation covered from all angles on her own. 

“Tell me about it. I thought I was going to be the good parent. Turns out I’m the one that can’t get away fast enough,” she laughed, stuffing another blouse into the already overloaded suitcase. “Don’t tell anyone this, but Tom didn’t want him when he found I was pregnant. He asked me to get an abortion. I told him no way was I killing a baby. You know what his stupid answer was? That murder was justified in that case, because he was going to be a shitty father.” She shook her head in disbelief. “But he’s way better at it than me now. He has a lot more patience,” she mused, and Addison nodded. “Frankly, I wish he’d agree to move out of this damn place and it’s nonstop rain. I want to go somewhere tropical, like Florida. Can you imagine the three of us in Florida, with a beach house that has an outdoor shower? But I can’t even see Tom anywhere else. This town’s gloom has almost become a permanent part of him, you know?” 

“What happened with Steven Hades by the way?” Addison asked, changing the subject.

“Oh gosh, what a freak accident, right? I mean we all know Steven and the bottle were best friends, but I didn’t realize how damn bad it was. But you know the strange thing?” She asked, scrunching her nose is deep thought. “Not many people knew this because he was embarrassed about it, but he was deathly afraid of water. Couldn’t swim. Not sure how Tom even got him to agree to go fishing to be honest,” she replied, then went back to talking about Florida. 

As he was leaving, Jodie promised she would tell Tom that he visited. 

On his last night Addison walked out onto the back porch and popped a bottle of beer. Four miles away, Tom wrangled with his son, who wouldn’t stop crying. His wife had already left, and it was too late to get his parents to help. The little boy continued to wail for no particular reason.

“What is it, Jude?” He asked, but got no reply expect for the continued screams. He was slowly losing his mind. The stress of the week catching up with him finally. And now his son wouldn’t stop crying.

He brought him outside into the back yard, into the cold air, hoping it would calm him down. But the crying continued. It was the most helpless feeling, not knowing what to do, and not being able to ease his pain. “Please, please Jude,” he begged the little boy, bouncing him in his arms. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know,” he stammered. Then finally he broke down in a long sob, startling the boy into silence. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled through the tears, “I’m sorry.” His legs felt shaky, so he sat down on the grass, holding onto Jude tightly, and looked up at the sky.

Four miles away, and halfway through his beer, Addison’s eyes also drifted to the sky. They both saw it at the same time. The large star shining as bright as the sun. It was Antares, the Scorpion’s heart. 

The beautiful sight made Addison breathless for a long moment. He smiled and felt shivers run down his arms and back. Tom held onto his boy, suddenly feeling the weight of the world release from his shoulders. “It’s okay now,” he said. “Daddy’s got you.” After a long while, they both went back inside. Addison to his childhood bedroom, and Tom to the living room couch.

The next morning, Addison woke up early and gave his mother a kiss goodbye. He took the box with the vintage lamp, then grabbed his bag and walked outside shivering in the brisk morning air, passing his handprints on the front steps, and getting into the waiting yellow cab. The low hum of the idling engine was the only sign of life on Fall River Street.

[familyvisionis2020]

Day 4 - Athens (2 of 2)

I was able to sleep blissfully, majestically, and woke up around 10 feeling drowsy but refreshed. I sit up in bed and the first thing I see is Kabir’s smiling face, he says ‘Rise and Grind’ like he always does and Royal says ‘let’s get this bread’ and the day has started. In the daylight the giant purple house we’re staying in is even more whimsical and palatial seeming. There are rocking horses on top of the shelves in the house, hanging decorative bulbs and a campy chandalier and ornate decorations in a transom in the hallway and wrought iron fixtures with silver perforated globes mounted like torches outside the front door and a complicated antique triple-bell thing  for a door bell and more chrome globes hanging from the porch ceiling that look like metal lace and whose purpose is unclear to me, stained glass and a 6 foot, ten=-tubed windchime, several hanging swings on the porch, iron patio furniture and a rusty gate and a giant log of pine driftwood suspended from cables and an enormous rusted bell that still dongs and a trellis of ivy and a big boat propeller and something that looks like a 12 foot long abbacus and a half a purple wagon wheel and a huge white vase that looks like white China with blue coi and aquarium scene decorations, a big stone dragon head with highly detailed scales and a cove in the back of its head that allows you to put a middle size candle inside of the head such that when you light it its eyes will appear to flicker from the front, several of those shiny reflective globe spheres, one patterned in swirls like a bowling ball, and tons of plants and small trees andshards of sculpture concrete and folk kitschworks and little benches and birds everywhere and a bicycle wheel weathervane and pinwheel and just generally kooky stuff and its so so homey and lush and expansive and calm here. There are two cats whose name I dont know who live here and a dog whose name is Cocoa but who Royal calls Stanly for no apparant reason which is his humor which I love. 

I take a bird bath and we head across the street to the coffee shop, Donderos’ which is architectuarlly quite similar to the house we are staying in actually, its a big old victorian house, pale-rufous salmon-coral siding with dull cream accents, a high gable and new black roofing, and rather than eing surrounded by an enormous wraparoudn porch like our place, it’s surrounded by an asphalt parking lot that itself is surrounded by a stone block retaining wall and hearty wild rosemary. We set up camp inside the cafe for the first part of the day, we all order food, people get grits and a thing called a gritboat and fried potatoes that are like homefries except perfect little rectangular prisms rather than cubes and different sorts of eggs, lots of coffee, I drink yerba mate again instead. I plug in my phone and laptop, check my law school statuses using an automated aggregator and find out that my application to University of Florida Law has gone under its second review which is neither a good nor a bad sign necessarily, just means it’s being actively reviewed, I add this data point to a website to collect law school admissions data points and then eat breakfast. I put so much butter and raspberry jam in my grits that I almost feel like I overdid it. 

Kabir and Jeremy are thinking through the status of the tour out loud; in light of the extreme emergency situation that Covid is turning out to be, in light of the pressure Kabir feels from the women in his family to not tour, in light of the handful of venues and bands that have cancelled or dropped from bills on our tour, and in light of the cost-benefit analysis of traveling another 1600 miles through the midwest and back again, in light of the possibility of being cancelled if we continue to heedlessly transmit ourselves like vectors (I have been jokingly calling the band ‘Family Vector’ rather than Family Vision) perhaps healthy or at least symptomless but mobile pathogens, in light of all this there’s just a preponderance of reasons not to keep the full tour on, and between Jeremy and Kabir with some input from John, the decision to severely truncate/abridge the tour solidifies like jello in a sad fridge. I’m actually careful not to give much input in the decision making process here, I have mixed feelings about the ethics of continuing to tour but am honestly not bothered as much from a principled public health standpoint as I am from like selfishly wanting to just have free time in my apartment in Chapel Hill to lay around and maybe read and write and walk around and do yoga and be alone and enjoy quality quarantine quarantime at home and maybe even spend time in person with someone I like who I mostly only ever email whose hand I want to hold who I want to watch scary movies with and talk about feelings with, talk about feelings in a way that for all the lovely blissful amazing things my friends in the band are to me, we don’t hardly talk about feeings much at all. Or actually more likely just don’t talk about feelings in this one particular intense vulnerable type of way that I honesty avoid lost of the time but also like crave to do around someone I feel tender and safe when they’re nearby. Anyways. So I am intentionally passive in the decision making and I think all the reasons they factor in are germane and their reasoning sound and accede to the decision to cut the tour short, the plan now is to play again tonight in Athens at the same place, Buvez, then head out to Huntsville Alabama tomorrow, take a break in Nashville for a day, then play our final show in Louisville Kentucky before driving the van back to Chapel Hill. I offer to give Jeremy a ride back to Ridgewood Queens from NY in an effort to be kind and of service and of use and to share a resource in a situation where, mercifully but somewhat troublingly I have very little asked of me and very little to offer: Kabir and Jeremy have done the lion’s share of the planning, have volunteered to do the driving (and are very good at doing the driving), and so the sort of soft imperative in my life to find a way to be helpful, to be of service, as a mechanism of maintaining sanity and spiritual fitness feels a bit atrophied. So it makes me happy when Jeremy says he will take me up on that offer, and I am glad I am the type of person nowadays to offer a thing like that. 

After the logistics are tamped down and tidied we breakdown our various electronics and head to the park which is maybe 300 feet down the street, which is outfitted with polished granite chessboards, baggies of pieces stowed in ziplocks in a small compartment nearby, and also outfitted with a massive polished granite slab made to be a ping pong table, with a metal divider rather than a net. Kabir wants to play me in chess and I almost say no, worrying that the ugly part of my competitive spirit may take over, but I decide to say yes and we play, and the game goes quick, standard queen’s pawn opening but then an early blunder by Kabir puts me on the offensive and rather than try to maneuver back into control of the center and winning chances, which I’m absolutely sure he could’ve done, he just concedes after about 5 minutes and that’s that. I have language for chess even though I haven’t played more than 10 games in the last 10 years because for awhile in 2016-2018 I would put on lectures by chess grandmasters on youtube to calm me down and to fall asleep. I think I picked up some general strategic understanding too. Kabir tells me one time he scholar’s mated his dad and his dad got so furious he almost flipped the table. Kabir will remark later that his dad, a published author and consummate professional writer who logs a minimum of 1,000 words a day, that he is learning the only thing that can shake his dad is a global pandemic, that he’s never seen his dad this worried. Me and John play chess next, it’s a very close game and John stays ahead in material the entire game although I put him on the backfoot early and kept momentum with a string of nuisance checks that I think demoralizes him a little and although he won’t resign and fights tooth and nail until checkmate he keeps saying he should have resigned. I don’t actually know how to checkmate him properly so I use a passed pawn and only with two queens can manage to finish the game. We play a second time, for a long time, and it’s very close again, and I manage to eke out a win, and John is done. And Kabir comes over with his book of The Best of Wednesday New York Times Crosswords edited by Will Shortz and explains that these are medium-difficult and that Saturday, not Sunday is the most difficult, Sunday is Thursday difficulty, just longer. He lays the puzzle down on the chessboard, I notice the crossword puzzle and chessboard are the same shapes and pattern more or less, and I make a joke in a loud Brooklyn-style accent that all I need is black and white squares on a grid and I’m happy. I get a laugh and that makes me feel good and I feel like a smart winner also and I feel smarter looking for clues together with John and Kabir and the weather is breezy and warm and I’m extremely happy just playing and relaxing, glad Kabir wants to play things with me, delighted to see not every game turns me into a monster.

We meet up with Noah, the person whose house we are staying at, and we all pile in the big maroon van and head to the State Botanical Gardens of Georgia. Noah without prompting assumes the role of tour guide, takes the reins and play acts that we are tourists following him, chides us for straggling, tells us to stay with the group, curates our experience. I love this, Kabir can be like this too, a man making decisions in a way that does not feel constricting or cruel or vindictive or violent, just a gentle assertion to let some expert knowledge shine through, which Noah has a lot of; I will learn later today that he is in the process of composing a thesis or dissertation about 19th century literature which focuses on the description of plants as a lens through which to assess and survey that literature, so his knowledge of plants is vaster than I knew. He takes us through the indoor greenhouse garden at first which is dense with lush tropical plants and hundreds of orchids. He explains how orchids used to be rare and expensive commodities, I mention how orchi- is the prefix for testicles and that orchids are named their name because the unflowered bulbs resemble testes. Kabir points at Noah and says ‘FACTS.’ We see a cacao plant, a coffee plant, a vanilla plant, dozens of fragrant flowers which each of the boys stops and politely smells, one by one, so adorable, a very tender stroll. We get a band picture together which Kabir explains will be captioned with a notification that our tour will be canceled. Noah continues to usher us through the verdant corridors, we see a banana plant with leaves taller than me up on a balcony, I think it’s the biggest leaves on a plant I’ve ever seen. There’s muscodine grapes on the ground, i split one open for the boys to smell, they put their faces close to my hand and trust me not to fuck with them, which I don’t. We are in super high spirits, everyone is enjoying themselves. Noah collects us and guides us outside where we enter the massive sylvan grounds of the Botanical Garden proper. Everyone is doing bits about the different plants. I see Spathiphyllums and mention to Noah Swingin’ Spathiphyllums from Mort Garson’s Plantasia, and in response he just hums the tune of the song, which I love. Royal goes and lays on a gigantic rock. We read the placards, tease out etymologies, reference colonial plant histories, see the real life versions of plants like Gingko Biloba and Agave and probably 40 varieties of thyme in the Physic plant section and honey garlic and rosemary and tarragon and lavender and ginger and turmeric and acer palmatum and quercus alba and nephroleptis exaltata, all scientific names I remember from high school horticulture, and so so many other kinds of plants it’s hard to remember them all. 

I looked up a list and I’m putting of the ones I remember of them here because to me their name is so beautfiul Anise Hyssop, Arkansas Blue Star, Summer Snapdragon, Buttefly Weed, Rain Lily, Wild Indigo, Crossvine, Million Bells, Athens Sweetshrub, Begonias, American Hornbeam, Japanese Plum Yew, Forest Pansy, Lavender Redbud, Fringetree, Old Man’s Beard, Summersweet Clethra, Coleus, Dogwood, Bath’s Pink Dianthus, Spurge, Mt. Airy Fothergilla, Hardy Geranium, Lenten Rose, Coral Bells, Swamp Hibiscus, Hydrangeas, Inkberry, Ornamental Sweet Potato, Crape Myrtles, Pink Loropetalum, Little Gem Magnolia, Dawn Redwood, Blackgum, Firespike, Fragrant Tea Olive, Phlox, Plectranthus Variegated Japanese Solomons’ Seal, Overcup Oak. Admiral Semmes Azalea, Sacred Lily, Drift Roses, Creeping Raspberry, Three Lobed Coneflower, Double Daffodils, Lady in Red Salvia, Blue Anise Sage, Bald Cypress, Confederate Jasmine, Georgia Blue Veronica, Snowball Viburnum, Chastetree, Amethyst Falls Wisteria.

We find a massive terraced zone with close-cropped fescue like a carpet and a long stone staircase, rectangular hedges capping bluffs of each 8 foot drop, a single concrete obelisk, some statuary, polished stainless steel gate structures, millions of flowers and plants arranged in tidy geometric grids. More than one person, and not just from the boys in the band, mentions that this place reminds them of the film Midsommar, and I agree, the light is bright but not saturated yet the way it gets in summer, so it has a similar sickly kalediscopic sheen to the movie’s colorscape. Noah traipses down the many staircases to a stone stage at the central of the terraced court and starts doing a bizarre interpretative dance that is a little balletic and a little frenetic, eventually he kind of stage dives into a shrub and falls before loping back to us, which we and other tourists respond to with polite applause. He then bounces up and down with me such that our heads are just popping up into the line of sigh tof the boys at the higher level, and we do that for a few minutes and it’s silly and fun. I suggest to Noah that we do yoga on the lawn and he immediately takes his socks off and starts corraling the wililng among the bands to do yoga, it ends up being me Kabir and John, Noah has the right lilt and cadence in his voice to make for a very plausible yoga teacher and he knows a few flows and postures and leads us in a pretty decent 25-ish minute session. Mostly I’m quiet and avoid making jokes and do my best to enjoy the physical benefits of the yoga, but at one point I say “my kundalini energy is through the roof right now’ in a thick mock southern accent which I think is hilarious and Kabir too. Kabir does a bit later where he says ‘come to find out, you simulated your love for me!’ in his thick syrupy southern joke drawl which is a quote from a 1982 song by french coldwave duo Deux which is exceedingly funny to me when I hear it. The sun is hot and someone, I think Paul from Tired Frontier, says ‘first sweat of 2020.’ It does feel like spring switched on the minute I left town, which is such a warm and lovely feeling.

We finish up yoga, gather the boys and Noah suggests we go to the grocery store to get a giant can of beans, some tomatoes, a red onion, a ripe avocado, two jalapenos, and a bunch of cilantro, and two bags of tortilla chips, and make a raw, unpureed bean dip and feast together, which is exactly what we do. I dust bits of dried grass off Kabir’s back that he picked up doing yoga. I do something very close to brunois on both the red onions and jalapenos, not quite the 1/8th inch industry standard but not far off, Noah praises my knife skills. We all devour the huge bowl of dip super quick and between me Jeremy Kabir John and Noah eat all those chips and all the dip in about 10 minutes, and we work further on the crossword puzzle. Jeremy eats a $1 tin of sardines and then goes to take a nap. We just sit out on the porch in the sun and vibe for a couple hours, idle conversation, i nearly fall asleep, but then rally and manage to type a ton on my computer and feel happy to be consistent blogging. 

We make it to the venue, Buvez again, and the rest of the night is basically identical to the night before, except this time Polly’s Gone is their usual selves, Surface to Air Missive, they sound almost exactly like The Shins, they play a short set. Jeremy talks to the lead guy, Taylor, and tells me Taylor said ‘yeah we’re just trying to be The Shins,’ Kabir says ‘that guitarist is incredible’ which is saying a lot because I think he’s incredible and has tons of techinical and theoretical and practical expertise. We play second instead of third this time, play a smaller set too, don’t do any joke songs, play to basically an empty room save the guys in the other bands, it’s fine, super breezy, zero pressure, fun, inconsequential. Tired Frontier plays, does some funny Covid-related banter, their set is basically identical to the set the night before. We all hang out on the picnic tables outside the cafe, all ten guys in all three bands, they share stories about getting caught smoking weed as a teenager and epic house parties and getting grounded and dumb stuff like that, and this time I’m happy to sit and put my feet up right in the middle of the conversation, shoulder to shoulder with Royal who is drinking a beer from a rocks glass and Kabir who’s smoking a Turkish Silver, looking at Taylor who yesterday I kind of thought was maybe too cool for us but who now has a kind of reluctant smile in this cute way that reminds me of how my dad smiles, a man used to being austere and stoic and foreboding belied by a cheerful time. The venue people bring out $60 in cash and Taylor tells us and Tired Frontier to split it between ourselves, a very classy move from the leadman of the hometown band, Kabir says if you ever need a show in the Triangle hit me up I got you. Taylor goes home, the Buvez people are bringing in the outdoor furniture again, we breakdown and load out together, everybody helps with everything (like not just drummer gets drums bassist gets bass and bass amp, rather everybody just gets everything) and that feels kind, I love how easy being decent comes to the boys in this band, I feel like every shred of decency and kindness I can muster feels sourced politically or has had been inserted in me only after being pryed open by the crowbar of desperation or like postulated but not fully embodied during therapy or the result of very direct counter-intuitve habit building and coaching and mentoring and although that’s hard for me, materially right now I am matching them, I’m decent too, I am a decent person among decent people, I can live without constantly lying and shoplifting and fantasizing about the next petty crime or act of vandalism I will execute to vindicate an image of elegant, thoughtfully erratic antipathy for authority I was always trying to curate and cultivate in the eyes of my peers. Anyways, everything’s fine, Royal suggests we go to a bar and Kabir uses his casual power as frontman to say no which is something I know he’s doing for him and for me and I deeply appreciate that. 

We go downtown in Athens and look for a chinese spot that ends up being closed and then wander into a diner where there’s kids in prom outfits settling up their bills with the hostess as we get seated. John marvels at this weird coca cola ad thing that has a big bottle tilted down with a rotating helictical metal piece the color of coke that makes a pretty plausible optical illusion of liquid pouring into a cup below. Kabir tells stories about his old bands, Sister David, Docking, Reynolds, a bit they used to due during live shows where they’d mix in ‘I’ve Got a Feeling’ by Black Eyed Peas to their spartan angular No-Wave set which we all agree is brilliant, wish we could’ve seen that. I scarf the huge plate of fries i order and basically drink the extra cup of ranch i ordered, it’s fantastic, I love how hungry i feel after playing shows, I share my fries with Jeremy. The Tired Frontier guys show up last minute and we rendezvous briefly before heading home. Not much else happens other than me spending like 15 minutes with the dog Cocoa gaining its trust and comforting it for the purpose of getting her to stop barking, which works and is very calming. I eat an apple and peanut butter out the jar by myself in the kitchen and I do not feel the need to be reading or looking at my phone while i do it, which is rare and very special. I take my medicine, plug in my headphones, and go to sleep.

[samuelmmarcus]

Modern Farmhouse Lake House

  Hello, my wonderful friends! How are you today? I have been working on this lake house tour for the last three days and I truly can’t wait to share it with you. This home has the best of everything… Modern Farmhouse architectural details and a lake view that will leave you in awe!

Here, the talented designer and architect, Benchmark Design Studio, shares some insights on this project:

“Classic lake home architecture infused with contemporary sentiments defines this remarkable beachfront residence. Inspired to be both bold and timeless, the project—from early sketches to the final modern masterpiece—was a collaborative effort between Mike Schaap Builders, Inc and Benchmark Design Studio and illustrates how when it comes to modern luxury, the difference is always in the details.”

This home is actually for sale, so feel free to contact the designer for further details.

  Modern Farmhouse Lake House

Residing on the shores of Lake Michigan, this custom built Coastal Farmhouse is exceptionally true to its lakefront character with lake lifestyle radiating throughout.

Home Details: 4 Bedrooms + Alcove Bunk Room – 5 Bat – 3,921 SQ. FT.

Exterior Paint Color

Cement Board Siding: Benjamin Moore, 2137-60 Gray Owl.

Home Width: 54’

Home Depth: 80’

Trim & Garage Doors

Trim, Soffits & Fascia: Benjamin Moore, OC-152 Super White.

Front Porch

A small porch with adirondack chairs add a welcoming feel to this lake house.

Chairs: here – similar.

Front Door

A glass front door with glass sidelights let guests see the breathtaking lake view even before stepping inside.

Foyer

This foyer feels stylish and it has plenty of personality. Notice the coffered ceiling with wallpaper.

Paint color is Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Entry Ceiling Inset: Thibaut Wallcoverings, Taza Cork Black.

Console Table: Gabby Goodman Console Table.

Ottomans: Moes Home Collection Appa Square Stool.

Lamp: Surya Arnrode Table Lamp – Other New Table Lamps: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Mirror: Discontinued – similar here & here – Other Gorgeous Mirrors: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Beautiful Foyer Lighting: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Rug: Loloi Rugs – also available here.

Walls

You usually wouldn’t expect to see a dark grey kitchen in a lake house, but the Modern Farmhouse influences allow this home to feel current and innovative.  Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Barstools: Lee Industries with custom fabric – Available through the designer – Other Beautiful Choices: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Kitchen Paint Color

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore, HC-166 Kendall Charcoal.

Lighting: Savoy House – Discontinued.

Cabinetry

The kitchen cabinetry was custom-designed by Benchmark Wood Studio. Island paint color is Benjamin Moore, 2134-50 Gull Wing Gray.

Prep-sink: Kohler.

Faucet: Kohler.

Accent Tile

Accent Tile: Oceanside Glass Tiles Devotion City Lights Manhattan – Other Beautiful Accent Tiles:here, here & here.

Backsplash Tile

Kitchen Accent Tile: Oceanside Glass Tiles Casa California OCE356 INTRO Silverlight Matte – similar here.

Countertop

Perimeter & Island Slab: Zodiaq Quartz Neve. Edge profile: Pencil, 3cm.

Sink & Faucet

Sink: Kohler.

Faucet: Kohler.

Soap Lotion: Kohler.

Beautiful Kitchen Runners: here, here, here (best seller!), here, here, here, here & here.

Open Layout

“With a reverence to architectural simplicity on the exterior, inside shows off grand symmetry and a dramatic open-air design that maximizes lake views and square footage.”

Hardwood Flooring: White Oak – similar here & here.

Dining Room

The main level makes entertaining a breeze with a state-of-the-art kitchen, dining, hearth room and living room, while also opening up onto the covered patio.

Console Behind Sofa: CFC Console – Others: here, here & here.

Dining Table

The designer did an amazing job with the decor and furniture for this home. Everything complements the architectural details without competing with this incredible view!

Dining Table: CFC Basket Dining Table – Other Great Dining Tables: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Rug: Jaunty Rug.

Chandelier: Framburg Lighting – Similar: here & here.

Ceiling & Trim Paint Color

The impressive trim details, including inlaid ceilings and classic built-ins, complement the refreshing coastal flair.

Main Level Trim & Ceiling Paint: Benjamin Moore, OC-17 White Dove.

Main Level Ceilings: 10ft

Dining Chairs

Dining Chairs: Classic Home Phillip Dining Chair Gray – Others: here, here, here, here & here.

Family Room

“Rich stained doors and trimwork mixed with bold patterns and sumptuous upholstery exemplify the home’s contemporary tone, while warm hues of driftwood, whitewashed oak floors and shiplap walls lend character to its nautical undertones.”

Pillows: Custom – similar: Plaid Pillows & Lumbar Pillows.

Swivel Chairs: Sam Moore Aura Swivel Chair – similar here & here.

Metal End Table: Uttermost – similar: here.

Accent Chairs: Uttermost Chairs.

Sofa: Classic Home Rustic Collina Sofa – similar here, here & here– Other Affordable options: here, here, here, here & here.

Fireplace

Family Room V-Groove Wall: Benjamin Moore, OC-17 White Dove.

Fireplace Surround & Hearth: Landmark Attitude LMK ATDG 1224 Dark Gray – similar here & here.

Coffee Table: CFC Cocktail Table.

Rug: Feizy – similar here – Others: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Artwork: Moes Home Greyscale Wall Decor – Other Gorgeous Artwork: here, here, here, here & here.

Chandelier: Framburg Lighting.

Powder Room

The powder room walls are Thibaut Wallcoverings, Broadway Metallic Silver on White – available through the designer.

Powder Room Ceiling: Benjamin Moore, 2134-50 Gull Wing Gray.

Mirror: Uttermost – Others: here, here, here, here & here.

Countertop: Quartz, DaVinci.

Faucet: Delta.

Staircase

Paint color is Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Artwork: Uttermost Bahati Wood Wall Art.

Master Bedroom

“Dedicated to private time, upstairs holds a master suite with its own lakefront balcony, two guest quarters, and a cozy alcove featuring ultra-clever built-in bunk beds.”

Coverlet: Eastern Accents.

Euro Shams: Eastern Accents Euro Shams – Others: here & here.

Duvet: Eastern Accents Super King Duvet Insert.

Bed: Classic Home – Other Great Beds: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Artwork: Uttermost – Others: here, here & here.

Nightstands: Bungalow 5 – similar here – Other Beautiful Nightstands: here, here, here, here & here.

Chairs: Classic Home – similar here – Others: here, here, here & here.

Paint Color

Master Bedroom, Bath & Wardrobe Walls: Benjamin Moore Revere Pewter.

Trim, Ceiling & Closet Paint: Benjamin Moore, OC-17 White Dove.

View

The master bedroom features a private balcony with cable railing and dreamy views of the lake.

Master Bathroom

The master bathroom paint color is Revere Pewter by Benjamin Moore.

Cabinets & Countertop

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore Gull Wing Gray.

Countertop is HanStone Aspen, RU601.

Faucets: Kohler.

Sink: Kohler.

Towel Ring: Delta.

Shower Tile: Grigio Matte 18″ x 36″ tile – similar here, here & here.

Tub & Faucet

Tub Filler: Kohler.

Tub: Maax Miller.

Bath View

The bathroom window was strategically placed low so you can enjoy the lake view while taking a bath.

Shower

Tiling: Walls & Shower Pan – similar.

Faucet: Kohler.

Laundry Room

The laundry room is located upstairs. Cabinet paint color is Kendall Charcoal by Benjamin Moore.

Floor Tile: Florim USA Suburb FUSSUMO1818 Montclair 18″ x 18″ – similar here & here.

Countertop is Dwyer Aurea Epitome.

Upper Level Ceilings: 9ft.

Faucet: Kohler.

Bunk Room

The bunk room is perfect for the extra guests – and you know you always will have them when you own a beach house.

Alcove, Hall, Laundry, Bedroom #2, Bedroom #3, & Shared Bath Walls: Benjamin Moore, OC-17 White Dove.

Bedding: Custom – similar here – Other Fun Duvet Covers: here, here & here.

Cabinet: Mercana – similar here – Others: here, here & here.

Mirror: Uttermost.

Bunk Bath

Countertop is Zodiaq Color Quartz Calcutta Novus.

Artwork: Paragon – similar here.

Faucet: Delta.

Sink: Kohler.

Toilet: Kohler.

Floor Tile: here – similar.

Guest Bedroom

Bed: Moe’s Queen Bed – similar here, here & here.

Coverlet: here & here – similar.

Nightstands: Noir Furniture.

Table Lamp: Surya Lamps.

Dresser: Noir Furniture.

Guest Bath

Countertop is Granite Monte Christopher.

Tile: Ceramic Grey 12″ x 24″ Tile – similar here.

Artwork: Paragon Artwork.

Faucet: Delta.

Sink: Kohler.

Toilet: Kohler.

Shower Faucet: Delta.

Guest Bedroom

This guest bedroom offers a lovely view… I wouldn’t mind waking up to this view every morning.

Bed: Classic Home – similar here – Other Grey Beds: here, here, here & here.

Nightstands: Noir.

Coverlet: Pine Cone Hill.

Dresser: Noir.

Bathroom

Countertop: Granite Monte Christopher.

Faucet: Delta.

Guest Shower

Shower Faucet: Delta Shower Head & Faucet Trim.

Tiling: Walls & Shower Pan – similar.

Shower Curb: Bianco Carrara.

Basement

Downstairs, a generous living area with casual furnishings and additional guest quarters encourage visits from extended family and friends and lend a hand in beach entertaining.

Walls, Trim & Ceiling Paint: Benjamin Moore, OC-17 White Dove.

Lower Level Ceilings: 9FT

Lower Level Family Room

Sectional: Stanford – available through the design – similar here – Other Affordable Options: here, here, here, here & here.

Artwork: Paragon In the Distance Framed Wall Art – Set of 3.

Coffee Table & Console: Classic Home – similar Coffee Table & Console Table.

Chandelier: Ralph Lauren Roark Ring Chandelier.

Accent Color

Game Area Accent Paint Color: Benjamin Moore, AF-700 Storm.

Table: Rococo Table – similar here, here & here.

Chairs: Dovetail Dining Chairs – Other Black Dining Chairs (they’re very trendy right now! :)): here, here, here & here.

Mirror: Uttermost Fortune Frameless Round Mirror.

Console Table: Uttermost Andy Console – also available here.

Bookshelf Back Wall Paint Color

Bookshelf Back Wall: Benjamin Moore, HC-166 Kendall Charcoal.

Artwork: Uttermost Summer Birds 2-Piece Framed Canvas Wall Art Set.

Basement Guest Bedroom

This basement guest bedroom feels spacious and it airy.

Bed: Classic Home – similar here.

Dresser: CFC Chevron Dresser.

Basement Guest Bathroom

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore, HC-166 Kendall Charcoal.

Countertop is Striato Olimpico Marble.

Floor & Shower Tile: Landmark Ceramics Attitude Simply Grey 12″ x 24″ – similar here.

Faucet: Delta.

Sink: Kohler.

Toilet: Kohler.

Mudroom

Shiplap walls and cabinets are Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Hardware: here – similar.

Floor Tile: Slate Tile.

Backyard

Who wouldn’t love to live in this home, right? Isn’t it beautiful?!

Porch

This large back porch is perfect for entertaining or unwind after a long day…

Summer Days

I hope this home brings some sunshine to your day.

Patio Sets on Sale: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Windows

Windows: Eagle Black Pine – Stained Black.

Architecture

This home exudes timeless architectural details.

Outdoor Shower

An outdoor shower is a must when you have the beach right at your backyard.

Dream Home

This home features a gorgeous combination of board and batten siding with shingles and black windows.

It’s always an honor to feature any home designed by Benchmark Design Studio on Home Bunch and I really hope you enjoyed this special tour as much as I did.

Many thanks to the designer for sharing the details above!

Interior Designer & Architectural Design: Benchmark Design Studio (Instagram)

Photography: Dan Zeeff.

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  Serena & Lily: Enjoy 30 to 70% OFF on Sale Styles!

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“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

from Home https://www.homebunch.com/modern-farmhouse-lake-house/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[mariacedano-blog-blog]

Instagram Fall Decorating Ideas Home Bunch is more than a blog, it is a community where each and every person that comes here becomes part of it. Because let’s be honest – a page is nothing without its loyal readers and I couldn’t be any happier with what we, together, have created here. I felt how tight this community really is even more so after I started the “Beautiful Homes of Instagram“ series. That is where we see so many talented homeowners sharing not only their homes but also their stories with us. Their stories is what makes this series put aside any staged home and any staged page of any magazine. What you see is their reality, it’s how they live. I also feel that this series has brought me even closer to you, my readers, because most of these homes that are featured here are from people that read this blog, and they often become much more than a feature, they become my friends. This is why I have asked them to once again open the door of their homes for us and kindly share their Fall decor. Here you will find inspiring Fall decorating ideas from real people, from people that read this blog, from real friends… Instagram Fall Decorating Ideas @sanctuaryhomedecor: Lanterns – Pottery Barn Pillows – Restoration Hardware @sanctuaryhomedecor Front Porch Chairs Seagrass Chairs – Pottery Barn Knit Throw & Table – HomeGoods Olive Bucket – Target Pillows – HomeGoods @sanctuaryhomedecor Pumpkins Pumpkins – Michael’s @sanctuaryhomedecor Outdoor Dining Plates – HomeGoods Silverware – World Market Tablecloth – Table Cloths Factory @sanctuaryhomedecor See @sanctuaryhomedecor on Beautiful Homes of Instagram & here. @jshomedesign: Lighting – Ro Sham Beaux Orbit- White Milk beads. Table – Restoration Hardware Salvaged wood trestle table– 108” in Natural. Dining Chair – Similar ones can be found here. @jshomedesign Happy Fall Decor @jshomedesign See @jshomedesign on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @laura_willowstreetinteriors: Laura’s entire home is warm and welcoming – and I love everything about it! Kitchen Chairs – Restoration Hardware Outlet Dining Table – IKEA Vase and Tiered Metal Basket – HomeGoods Wall Medallions – Target Breakfast Nook Curtains – Target @laura_willowstreetinteriors White Kitchen with Grey Backsplash White kitchen with grey subway tile backsplash and brass lighting. I love this combo! Kitchen Sconce – Norwell Lighting Kitchen Pendants – Home Depot (Darlana Lanterns are similar). Counter Stools – World Market Countertop – Caesarstone Organic White Backsplash – Imperial Gris Subway Tile from The Tile Shop Roman Shade – Custom, fabric is Braemore Memento Jade Kitchen Hardware – IKEA @laura_willowstreetinteriors Living room Living Room Chandelier – World Market Living Room Rug – Wayfair Living Room Curtains – IKEA Living Room Sofas – IKEA Pillow Covers – Ballard Designs, Etsy, Tonic Living, HomeGoods Coffee Table – World Market Pedestal Side Table – Homegoods Lamp – Target @laura_willowstreetinteriors Bookshelves I love how Laura decorates her bookshelves. See @laura_willowstreetinteriors on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @mytexashouse: Chunky throw from Artizenhome – similar can be found here. @mytexashouse Dreamy Living Room There’s so much inspiration here! @mytexashouse Chair & Ottoman Chair and ottoman from Six Penny. @mytexashouse Dining Room Fall Decor Neutral and stunning fall decor. @mytexashouse White Kitchen Lighting can be found here. @mytexashouse Dream Bedroom This bedroom features perfect symmetry and textures. Just gorgeous! @mytexashouse See @mytexashouse on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @thriftyniftynest: Erin’s home is so beautiful and welcoming. I love how she decorates and brings life to every corner of her home. Lanterns from Homegoods. Pumpkins from Micheal’s. @thriftyniftynest Pink Pumpkins DIY Pink Pumpkins: Dollar Tree. Painted with Martha Stewart craft paint. Gold silverware: Plastic from Party City. @thriftyniftynest Classic Fall Tablescape Plates: Pottery Barn. @thriftyniftynest Fall Color Scheme Sofa: Ikea Ottoman: Joss and Main @thriftyniftynest Fall Inspiration Decor is from HomeGoods. See @thriftyniftynest on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @MyHouseOfFour: Melody’s home is crisp and elegant. The velvet pumpkins are by bluegraygal. @myhouseoffour Coffee Table Decor Fall coffee table decor inspiration! @myhouseoffour. Velvet Great mix of texture and subtle colors. @myhouseoffour Stylish @myhouseoffour Bookshelves @myhouseoffour Chunky Shelves @myhouseoffour See @myhouseoffour on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @missyatperch: Missy’s home exudes a timeless elegant that is rare to find. @missyatperch Dream Fall Entry Design @missyatperch Foyer Fall Inspiration This is beyond gorgeous, isn’t it? @missyatperch Kitchen Paint Color Ivory White by Benjamin Moore. @missyatperch Patio Fall Decor @missyatperch Timeless Beauty @missyatperch See @missyatperch on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @sweetthreadsco: Michele’s home is crisp and full of inspiring ideas! The tweed pumpkins are from Target and the banner is from My Charm Box. @sweetthreadsco Pumpkin Pillow The pumpkin pillow is from Linen & Ivory and the tweed pumpkin is again from Target. @sweetthreadsco See @sweetthreadsco on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @classicstylehome: Jennifer has an amazing taste and her home is impeccable, in my opinion. Similar velvet pumpkins can be found here. @classicstylehome Dining room Inspiration @classicstylehome Natural Choice @classicstylehome Kitchen Fall Decor @classicstylehome Breakfast Room @classicstylehome Brunch Table Breakfast Nook Fall Decor with faux white pumpkins and fresh flowers. Perfect decor for brunch! @classicstylehome Front Entry @classicstylehome Planters @classicstylehome See @classicstylehome on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @cynthia_weber_design: Cynthia’s historic home is full of inspiration. I love this place and its surroundings. @cynthia_weber_design Lime Hydrangeas @cynthia_weber_design See @cynthia_weber_design on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @theclevergoose: This is a home I will never forget – The homeowner, Allison, built this home with her husband and father. I never complain about small projects around my house after I did her feature! Wreath: Hobby Lobby @theclevergoose. Farmhouse Fall Decor Isn’t this just adorable? @theclevergoose Living Room Bird painting: Paul Michael Company Fern Cyanotype: Clever Goose Mosaic Pumpkin: T.J.Maxx Wooden Planter: Magnolia Market Wire Basket: Target (similar) @theclevergoose Kitchen Decor Wooden bowl, wooden planter and cake stand: Magnolia Market Aged pine breadboards: Everyday Occasions @jennysteffenshobick Plates: Pottery Barn White ceramic candles: Flashpoint Candles @theclevergoose Brick Steps Awww… this just melts your heart! @theclevergoose Bunnies The bunnies names are Maple and Buttermilk. Aren’t they the cuttest? Outdoor sofa: Restoration Hardware Buffalo Check Pillows: Pottery Barn Beaded Pillow: Target @theclevergoose See @theclevergoose on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @becky.cunningham.home: Becky’s home is enchanting! @becky.cunningham.home Details @becky.cunningham.home See @becky.cunningham.home on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @sugarcolorinteriors: Megan’s home is heavenly – she knows how to mix neutral hues and textures like no one else. Textured Pillows – Etsy and Homegoods. Cableknit textured vase and marble tray – Homegoods. Artichoke lamps are Wayfair. Wood stool – Target. Rug from Wayfair is no longer available. Slipcovered sofas are Pottery Barn. @sugarcolorinteriors Whitewashed Coffee Table How She Decorates: “For Fall decor I like to bring out textured rugs, throws, pillows, and wood items. I sneak a few small real pumpkins into each room. I also like to turn on lamps, use the fireplace, and decorate with food!” Coffee Table: Whitewash coffee table. @sugarcolorinteriors Neutrals Driftwood Mirror – Pier One Art by Sarah Swanson. Chippy Console Table – Wayfair. Tufted chairs are Wayfair. @sugarcolorinteriors Black and White Buffalo Check Runner The buffalo check runner brings some extra charm to this kitchen. Marble pastry board – Wayfair Art by Lola Donoghue Buffalo check rug and gray check napkins – Amazon Pendants – Uttermost. @sugarcolorinteriors Countertop Countertop: Silver Sea Granite – Don’t these muffins look amazing??? Yum! French Press- Frieling Mug – Anthropologie @sugarcolorinteriors Master Bedroom Sherwin Williams Accessible Beige. Bed – Wayfair. Cable Knit Rug- Wayfair @sugarcolorinteriors Decor Chandelier – Ballard Designs. Striped Grain Sack Pillow, wood lamps, velvet bench – Wayfair. Drapes – Pottery Barn. @sugarcolorinteriors See @sugarcolorinteriors on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @janscarpino Cement bowl – Sunriver Gardens Coffee table books – Amazon Coffee Table –Alice Lane Home Fresh eucalyptus – Harmons Mini cement pumpkins – Sunriver Gardens Bulb glass vase- Alice Lane Home Mini white pumpkins – Target @janscarpino See @janscarpino on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @blessedmommatobabygirls: Blue Front Door Paint Color: Benjamin Moore Wythe Blue. @blessedmommatobabygirls Wreath Isn’t this welcoming? @blessedmommatobabygirls Beautiful & Welcoming Patsy’s home is one of the most welcoming I’ve featured on the blog. I love every detail… @blessedmommatobabygirls See @blessedmommatobabygirls on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @blountdesigns: A front entry can’t feel more Fall festive than this! @blountdesigns Enchanted Front Entry Deborah’s home is pure happiness, just like she is! @blountdesigns. Elegance @blountdesigns. See @blountdesigns on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @artfulhomestead: Hollie’s home is all about family and entertaining. She does it better than anyone else. Metal Leaves: @vintagemetalco Rustic wood slices/placemats: Chargers etsy shop @artfulhomestead Lights Chandeliers are from Restoration Hardware. Dessert Plates cutlery and candles: Pottery Barn. Glasses are canning jars from @weckjars White dinner plates Williams Sonoma @artfulhomestead Mini Velvet Pumpkins The small velvet pumpkins add extra interest to the stunning built-ins Stone, Board & Batten and Beams Beams and trims are Sherwin Williams SW 0023 Pewter Tankard. @artfulhomestead Branches Eucalyptus branches: Pottery Barn. @artfulhomestead Fall Decor How cozy and inviting! You don’t even need Fall decor in a bedroom with a view like that. @artfulhomestead. See @artfulhomestead on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @WowILoveThat: The pumpkin pillows are from Pier 1 Imports. The ottoman is discontinued from Pottery Barn. The sofa is the Lounge II from Crate and Barrel. Chairs flanking the fireplace are from Lamps Plus. @WowILoveThat Fall Pillow Inspo The candle on the marble and silver tray is from Etsy, shopagapecandles. The marble tray is from Home Goods. @WowILoveThat Coffee Table Decor The glass pumpkins are from Home Goods. @WowILoveThat Fall Vibes The Fall/Apple Cider/Bonfires/Football pillow is from Etsy – amandashomedesign. The plaid throw is from Home Goods and the chair it is on is from Lamps Plus. @WowILoveThat Bookshelf Decor The basket on my lower shelf is from Target. The cloth off white pumpkins are from Home Goods. The fall sign on my shelf is from Home Goods. @WowILoveThat Farmhouse Fall Decor The metal tiered tray with the pumpkins is from Home Goods. The pumpkins are real and from the homeowner’s garden! Wow, I love that! @WowILoveThat See @WowILoveThat on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @house.becomes.home: Jordan’s kitchen is all about farmhouse influences and that amazing cement tile backsplash! @house.becomes.home Thanksgiving Kitchen Island Decor Countertop is Super White quartzite. @house.becomes.home Heirloom Pumpkins The faux heirloom pumpkins are from Target. @house.becomes.home Faux Pumpkin Vignette @house.becomes.home Faux Pumpkins & Pine cones @house.becomes.home See @house.becomes.home on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @household no.6: Heather’s house is incredible! I love the mix of exposed brick and shiplap found in so many spaces. @household no.6 Fall Coziness Just bring me a good book and a cup of cocoa. @household no.6 See @household no.6 on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @curlsandcashmere The kitchen hood is painted in Sherwin Williams Urbane Bronze. A similar Faux Magnolia Wreath can be found here. @curlsandcashmere Inspiring Color Palette The decor came from Homegoods. @curlsandcashmere See @curlsandcashmere on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @peonyinteriordesigns: This front door got so many pins from Kate’s “Beautiful Homes of Instagram” feature. It’s easy to see why, right? Light Turquoise Door Paint Color: Benjamin Moore 723 Spring Rain. Mums & Lighting: Lowe’s. Wreath: HomeGoods. @peonyinteriordesigns See @peonyinteriordesigns on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @greensprucedesigns: I love Jen’s home. It’s one of the places that always come to my mind when I am looking for inspiration. Front door wreath is from Home Goods. @greensprucedesigns See @greensprucedesigns on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @cambridgehomecompany: What a curb-appeal! @cambridgehomecompany Outdoor Fall Decor How cozy! @cambridgehomecompany See @cambridgehomecompany on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @cindimc.ivoryhome We all know Cindi’s home very well, don’t we? Just take a look at the next picture and you will remember it. I just can’t stop featuring her home on Home Bunch! @cindimc.ivoryhome Most Pinned Swing Porch This is perfection! Who would you like to spend some time with you here? @cindimc.ivoryhome Siesta @cindimc.ivoryhome Outdoor Brick Fireplace with Fall Decor @cindimc.ivoryhome See @cindimc.ivoryhome on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @ninaandcecilia: Rocking Chairs – Walmart Welcome Mat – Target Outdoor Lanterns – Target Outdoor Lighting – Pottery Barn – on sale! @ninaandcecilia See @ninaandcecilia on Beautiful Homes of Instagram. Quote of the Week Posts of the Week @sanctuaryhomedecor: Beautiful Homes of Instagram. Tuesday: Carriage House Interior Ideas. Wednesday: Modern Craftsman Farmhouse Design. Latest Interior Design Ideas Fall Interior Design Ideas. What’s Trending Right Now: Trending on Home Bunch: Florida Beach House with New Coastal Design Ideas. Follow Home Bunch on Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram. You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives. Popular Paint Color Posts: The Best Benjamin Moore Paint Colors 2016 Paint Color Ideas for your Home Interior Paint Color and Color Palette Pictures Interior Paint Color and Color Palette Ideas Inspiring Interior Paint Color Ideas Interior Paint Color and Color Palette New 2015 Paint Color Ideas Interior Paint Color Ideas Interior Design Ideas: Paint Color Interior Ideas: Paint Color More Paint Color Ideas Wow! I just love these girls! I really do.. I sent them one email and look at how much inspiration they sent my way! They’re all truly deserving of follows and many hugs! Thank you all, my dear friends for being here today. I hope you had a great time and felt happy for seeing so many beautiful and inspiring ideas. Take care, have a good weekend and remember to be kind to yourself and others. Love is never weak! with Love, Luciane from HomeBunch.com Follow @HomeBunch: Contact: “For your shopping convenience, this post might contain links to retailers where you can purchase the products (or similar) featured. I make a small commission if you use these links to make your purchase so thank you for your support!” Save