#Garage Door Repair Serv
Link
Elite Garage of Seattle is one of the leading providers of garage door services in the area and we have the expertise to undertake any repair work – however simple or complex the project. For details visit: https://www.elitegaragewa.us/
#Garage Door Repair#Garage Door Services#Opener Repair#Spring Repair#Garage Door Installation#Garage Door Near Me#Garage Door Repair Serv
0 notes
Text
Fight club
Genre: enemies-to-lovers, brother's best friend!au, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive
Word count: 3.4k
Pairing: boxing-manager!Wooyoung x fem!reader
Warnings: mentions and a few descriptions of fights, fighting settings, mentions of blood, hits, rude people, swear words, mentions of making out, pet names, kisses, allusions to some lines from the actual movie Fight Club and to Bouncy lyrics, possible grammar mistakes
Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @cromerteez, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @heesnovia
Networks: @cromernet 🤍
The white, wadded clouds were threatening to cover the ground in sad tears of rain as you were wandering around the strange city you were in, all because of his love for traveling. Your car's engine decided to give up in the middle of the street and there you were, looking for anything that would serve as a roof under your head for the night, until he gave you a sign. Suddenly, your eyes started to beam as you saw a rundown ‘Mtel’ sign, written in red neon lights (one letter obviously missing), one that happened to have a car service on the first floor. You ran there as fast as you could, fearing that it was gonna close or something; and as soon as you got in front of it, you started to wonder if you were in the right place. Two guys were trying to make their parrot talk or something, a few french keys and other tools scattered around the floor as they seemed to be occupied with their pet.
"Uhm… hello?" you dared to talk and get their attention, having two pairs of eyes analyzing you. "My car broke down… and you seem to work with these things so… mind helping me?"
The look they gave each other really had you confused—they were almost surprised with your request.
"Okay, I see how it i—"
"No! We can help, of course. We just… wondered how many other cars we have to repair, you know?" The taller one said, not-so-gently nudging the other one as if he wanted him to support his words.
The younger one jumped a little, smiling weakly as he nodded. "We got it!"
You still couldn't figure if they were honest or not, but you just went with it and let them handle your car as you went to the receptionist to book a room.
The morning came with fast steps as you woke up due to some noisy sounds from outside, disturbing your already not-so-great sleep. You yawned and looked outside the window, seeing how the two mysterious guys were carrying things in their garage. They were getting more and more suspicious, so you grabbed your jacket and went downstairs to see the process. Your car seemed to be intact, they actually put some effort into changing the color of it too into a matte one, which you weren't opposing to at all.
"Is it done yet?"
They looked at you, both trying to cover the car as much as they could as you were approaching it.
"No! Don't touch it! Go eat and then you can come see it." the one with the purple highlights said once again. "Oh, and we're Jongho and Yunho, by the way." He said, a gummy smile taking over his face as you nodded softly and introduced yourself.
As soon as you left the room, they sighed.
"We're screwed. We are supposed to be undercover policemen, not mechanical engineers!" Jongho scolded Yunho, as the oldest sighed softly.
"Then go and tell her this! I actually think we even did a great job… Even our parrot agrees."
"We'll see about that. And let’s hope she doesn’t call the police on us!"
Said and done. You came from the little diner, looking at your now covered car. It seemed promising.
"Tadaaaaa! Here is your car, fresh and new." Yunho said, taking the sheet off of your shiny car.
"Thank you so much guys! Money won't thank you enough for that." you went and excitedly opened the car's door, only for something heavy to drag you down slowly—it was the car's door.
"...I guess no money for us," Jongho said, head down in shame as he couldn't look you in the eyes. "I told you, stupid."
You were still in shock as the door was now standing on the ground, looking at the two boys. "Mind telling me what’s this about?"
"This… is not our job, Y/n, we're sorry for lying to you." Yunho said, trying to reach for you but you went outside, leaving them to wallow in self pity.
This was all because of your stupid companion, one that wasn’t even accompanying you right now, when you needed him the most. You threw your hair back in frustration, going around the busy streets you didn’t even know. It kept getting darker, and the few houses you saw were not giving you any comfort. You were in trouble, in a run down neighborhood you wouldn't even dream of. A blue-haired guy showed up at some point, and as crazy as you must have looked, you followed him into an alley. When you saw him suspiciously entering a back door; you rushed inside just before it could close. The inside was lit by some yellow lights and you swore you could hear loud cheers coming from the basement. You went to the first door you saw and opened it, forgetting about the personal space for just a while, until you saw a long-haired brunette surrounded by money. Oh, and having a rolled-up bill between his teeth. If you weren't in need of help, you would exit the door as fast as you entered it. Feeling that someone was staring at him, he looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow when he saw your unfamiliar face, putting the money in the bag and hiding it under his desk as fast as he could.
"Robbery?" he asked, eyes continuously on the money bag you were amazed of.
"Listen, dude. I'm lost in this hell of a district, my car is screwed by two liars and I just want to find a way back and go home. My last intention is to rob you."
He wore an unfazed look on his face, almost like he didn't understand a thing of what you said; he was getting on your nerves more.
"Also, what kind of people ask someone if they are gonna rob them? And how the fuck do you have so much money?"
He smirked as soon as you mentioned the money—if you looked close enough, you could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes.
"If you wanna know how, I can show you right now. Follow me."
What did you have to lose? You were already lost in your thoughts, you didn't have the energy to say no—so you followed him. As soon as you got inside the room, you noticed the pleasing decorum, but also the fighting ring in the middle of it. And after you took some time to look around and take in the new surrounding, your eyes met his.
"Sa—"
Before you could even finish anything, he was on the floor, mouth full of blood as your eyes widened, wondering what the fuck he was doing there—the one who made you get lost, the one who brought you there. Before you could speak again, you saw the money guy hurry in San's direction, as he got seated on a chair, an exhausted and hurt look on his face.
"What the fuck got you that distracted? You literally let him hit you!"
"Wooyoung… her… protect her…" he raised his hand weakly, finger pointing to you.
"Ha? Her? You know the mysterious I got lost girl?"
"That girl is my sister, Wooyoung!"
Oh.
"Shhh, calm down. Don't waste your energy. C'mon, drink a bit of water, and go back on the ring." he said, splashing half of the water bottle on your brother's face while trying to look unaffected. I didn't sign up for this, he thought, though there was nothing he could have done—they really needed the money.
The cheers only got louder when San returned to the ring, while you tried to make your way in the crowd, squinting your eyes to see something between the pink hair strands of a tall man in front of you.
"You stole my place." you turned back to face a built man, anger visible on his face as you blocked his view—and stole his place.
Words got stuck in your throat as you swallowed the lump inside of it, anger getting over your senses. "What did you just say?"
"I said that you stole my place and that I expect you to go back!" he raised his voice more and your eyes shut together, your fist ready to throw a punch, before you felt a strong arm dragging you behind them—the brunette again.
“She’s with me." he growled, dragging you next to him as you were worriedly looking at your brother. "You're going to have to win double the amount of money for this, San." he mumbled.
Another hit on the ring and he was completely out of it, the three seconds passing and the bells letting the public know who the winner was—and much to his friend's disappointment, it wasn't San.
"No way. No way this is happening. He lost because of you!" he pointed at you, hitting his chair with his foot until it fell down.
You were already overwhelmed by everything you witnessed, tears beaming at the corners of your eyes as your brother came to the two of you.
"Stop trying to control everything and just let go. Let go, Wooyoung! For once!" he said, tiredness audible in his voice as his breath was hitched and slow.
"That's my job, San. And you were supposed to help me, help us." All Wooyoung could do after this was frown, before he left the building to go get some air.
You looked at your brother and dragged him somewhere far from the looks of the curious ones, hitting his chest slightly.
"What the fuck are you doing here, San? Is this the traveling you loved? Is that what our parents would have wanted you to become?"
He looked down, avoiding your stare as he couldn't look at you.
"Why didn't you tell me you needed money?! I would have gotten a job to help you!"
That's when his eyes met yours, finally hearing his voice in the two days you've been separated.
"The first rule of Fight Club…" he started, his gaze becoming stern: "… is you don’t talk about Fight Club.”
He genuinely annoyed you.
"And what are you doing here in the first place?"
"I was trying to find a way to cope with everything that happened after my brother left me so he could go fight some random people."
Auch. That hurt worse than a kick, he sighed.
"I'm sorry, Y/n… C'mon, you can stay with me from now on."
You didn't want to give in, you couldn’t imagine yourself having to stand Wooyoung's tantrums, yet it was better than wandering alone in an unknown city—so, you did what you thought was right and listened to your brother. And maybe staying so much with him (and his friend you won't talk about), watching his matches, that might have opened new horizons for you. You were now having dinner with them, clearing your voice before letting it be heard.
"You know… I wanna join the Fight Club too." you said softly, waiting for any sort of reaction from them; and there were two different ones—Wooyoung's eyes lit up immediately as he saw more money coming his way, whilst San was looking terrified.
"No."
"Yes!"
They said in unison, glaring at each other.
"I'm not letting her join this, it's dangerous, Woo!"
Wooyoung seemed to absolutely ignore the boy as he smiled at you, the first time you have seen him smiling outside of matches San won.
"I will help you become the best fighter out here. We're starting tomorrow!"
All you could do was smile excitedly as San face-palmed himself.
Said and done. You were already one month into practicing, and Wooyoung kept on finding matches for you, the next one being in two days. You were inside the little space he claimed as your training room, punching the innocent punching bag as you heard the door behind you. You thought it was Wooyoung and smirked, turning to face him and kicking, only for your fist to stop right in front of your brother's face.
"Oh… hey San." you smiled innocently whilst all he could do was sigh.
"If you don't get along with Wooyoung, why do you keep on doing this? I didn't even agree!"
You looked at him, deciding to ignore the judging look he threw your way. "I think I am capable of making my own decisions and I sure as hell don’t need my brother to make them for me."
"Do you think our parents would be proud that their daughter chose this path?"
This time, you snapped.
"Maybe you should have thought about this before choosing it first. You are my only role model, San, what do you expect from me?"
"I'm sorry, babes. If that's what you really want… I promise I will support you. But please take care." he said, arm wrapping around your waist as he dragged you into a hug. You hugged him back, the nice feeling of longing surrounding you—before a fake cough snapped you out of it.
"Sorry to interrupt your brother-sister moment, but you're distracting her."
"So now I can't spend time with my sister?"
"Not when she has a match coming. Also, she's getting as good as you. I won the lottery with you, guys."
You smiled at his praise, though he seemed to have something else in mind.
"I didn't like you at first, you know?" he said, looking directly into your eyes.
"I know, it was mutual." you said, a cheeky grin taking over your face as you waited for his response.
"Don't get too excited, I still don't like you. But I like the money you bring." he winked, watching as San's eyes darkened.
"Wooyoung," he growled, "if you think I'd let you talk to my sister like this, you're wrong. We're not your fucking bank!"
Wooyoung flinched a bit at his friend's words, pulling his glasses on his nose and trying to act unaffected when, in fact, he wasn't. Since you joined, he found himself thinking if he was doing the right thing, if you two thought he used you for money—which San kinda confirmed; but he couldn't let these emotions take over him, so he did what he thought was best—left.
He left and you two didn't see him again. Match time was right there and he was nowhere to be seen; and as much as you wanted to lie and act indifferent about it, you kinda missed his antics, his nag, perhaps you missed him. This was maybe, the reason why as soon as you stepped into the ring, you started to have an uneasy feeling. He wasn't there to support you, to hype you up, and it left you with a bitter taste. Despite this feeling, you still tried your best. Tried to avoid your rival's hits, tried hitting more, and you actually thought you were gonna win. That was until you spotted the pair of ebony-like eyes you waited for, being the last thing you saw before everything turned black.
That wasn't the sight Wooyoung expected to be welcomed with. He forgot about the two police officers behind him, running straight to the ring and following San who jumped inside immediately.
"Stop hitting her! Stop fucking hitting, she passed out!" he shouted, shoving the person off you, just to discover it was exactly the reason why the cops were there.
"Yunho, Jongho, it's him!"
Before he could do anything, San pushed both of them and took you in his arms, running to the infirmary as fast as he could. Yunho and Jongho were fast to catch the guy before he could run away, whilst Wooyoung was quick to follow San, who let you on the bed while waiting for the nurse.
"San!" he said, catching his breath as the eyes of the older one sent ice arrows down his spine.
"Don't you dare get closer to us! She was your responsibility Wooyoung, you were supposed to take care of her!" he said, hands on Wooyoung's shirt as he shaked the younger.
"I know San, I fucking know I fucked up! But her rival… he was following you San, I had to let Jongho and Yunho know that you were in danger… I wanted to protect you two…"
"I don't care about myself, Wooyoung. I only care about her and you failed. You failed us and our trust as well."
Maybe it took some harsh words for Wooyoung to realise that he put you in danger, and that he actually cared about you. About his friend, and unexpectedly, about his friend's sister as well.
"San… I'm sorry, please give me one more chance! I'll be more careful and—"
"She's out of this, Wooyoung. We are out of your damn Fight Club."
Wooyoung looked down, tears beaming at the corners of his eyes as he couldn't blame you. He just wanted to get closer with you, heck, he might have been attracted to you all this time—yet look where ignoring his emotions took him.
"You have my number if you change your mind, San."
And with this, he turned in the opposite direction, preparing to leave again. He wanted to be there when you wake up, he was aware that he distracted you when he came in way too late to your match. He wanted to hold your hand and start being there for you, but San was right. He didn't deserve none of you. His wish for money made him realise what he was truly lacking—love.
"San," you whispered, your weak voice being heard by both boys in the room: "San, you were too harsh… He wanted to protect you…"
Wooyoung's heart swelled a bit at your words, ignoring San's warning and sitting on the bed next to you. Right when your brother wanted to tell him to leave, his best friend was faster.
"I'm sorry I was late to your match, Y/n. I wish I was there for you."
"It's okay, Wooyoung. I wish I did better."
"No, Y/n! I'm proud of you nonetheless. You two are already the best for me."
Seeing Wooyoung hug you made San's anger dissipate into the void, joining as one hand caressed your hair and the other one patted his friend's back softly.
Your bond became even stronger after that day. While you met their friends (the ones who screwed your car) and realised how nice they actually were, your feelings for Wooyoung also grew stronger. You thought it was the same for him. The way his hand would softly brush yours, the random forehead and cheek kisses you were given, they had to mean something. And there you were now, plopped on a blanket as the night sky was shining above you.
"Isn't it pretty?" you asked him, looking at his flawless face and brushing his long hair with your fingers.
"It would have been even prettier if I watched it with my girlfriend."
Your heart remained still.
"Your girlfriend…? Do you have one?"
"Not yet, but I am about to. I know it's been quite of a long ride for us, but I'm deeply in love with you. And I know you feel the same, Yunho told me."
You looked at him flabbergasted, hands stopping on their track as he dragged you on top of him. You didn't know if you should be mad at Yunho, or glad that he eased the situation.
"Pfft, do you really believe Yunho? What if he lied?" you teased, grabbing his cheek softly as he looked at your lips.
"Well, let me figure it out." he said, before his soft lips met yours.
You closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment, smiling a bit when his nose brushed your own.
"Thank you for making me realise that love is more powerful than money, babe." he whispered, "I'm still going to be San's manager. And you are going to help me."
You nodded, pressing a kiss on his chin as you laid your head on his chest.
San's next match was going to be interesting. Ten minutes before it started, yet nor you or Wooyoung were anywhere to be found. He was searching for you with a water bottle in his hand, tank top tight on his chest as his muscles flexed under it.
"Wooyoung? Y/n? Where the fuck are you?"
As he stepped further into the darkened hallway, he heard your giggles and sighed—he was already growing tired of how big of a menace you were as a couple.
"For God's sake, can you stop making out and come watch me? I have a match to win!"
You and Wooyoung could only laugh harder as your brother sighed for the nth time that day, but it soon became a chorus of joyful giggles as he joined you two.
"We're coming!"
#kpop oneshots#kpop imagines#ateez oneshot#jung wooyoung imagine#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung oneshot#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez fluff#ateez angst#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung angst#enemies to lovers#kpop fluff#kpop angst#jung wooyoung ateez#ateez au#wooyoung x you#jung wooyoung x reader#wooyoung x reader
975 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) Part 3
Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader
<- Previous part. Next part ->
Warnings:Cheating and infidelity, but otherwise nothing that I can think of (unless of course you want something tagged, so don't hesitate to shoot me a message)
also if you've read my other fic, A Cut Above The Rest, then there's a little hidden easter egg in here!
Word Count:2,301
*dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist
“Can you serve table 15 for me please!” Robin pleads desperately, fluttering her eyelashes like that’s somehow going to get her what she wants.
“Why? Who’s on table 15?” you ask, looking over her shoulder to the table in the far corner. “Ohhh I see. That’s Chrissy Cunnigham’s table. The preppy cheerleader you had a crush on in high-school.” you shake your head at your friend. You knew that Chrissy came in here quite regularly and everytime she asked you if Robin was working. Chrissy was as much into Robin, as Robin was into her, although for whatever reason Robin refuted that idea, thinking that someone like Chrissy would never be into some as “dorky”, her words, as her.
“Please, I can’t talk to her, I get so tongue tied and stupid.” she whined.
“Look, Robs, you’ve just to go over there and put your big girl panties on and go talk to her, she likes you trust me.” you tell her earnestly, with a gentle touch to her arm. “Besides, I’ve got to go throw up.” you say quickly before leaving your friend to rush off to the bathroom at the back of the diner.
After the baby had you making yet another trip to the bathroom to spew your guts up, you take a moment to use the phone hanging on the wall at the back of the diner’s kitchen.
“You’re always hanging on that damn phone, Y/N.” Jim’s voice calls from over your shoulder.
“Can you just give me a moment, Hop, please, this is a personal call.”
His eyebrow raises at you suspiciously before tuning on his heels to leave you alone.
You dial the number you had stashed away in the pocket of your uniform, and the line rings once, twice, before a cheery voice on the other end picks up.
“Hello, Hawkins' Doctor’s practice, how can I help?”
“Uh, hi, is Doctor Harrington there? This is Y/N Hargrove, I’m his patient.
“I’ll just patch you through to his office.” comes the voice on the other end.
The phone’s dial tone rings down the line for a few seconds before you hear someone pick up on the other end.
“Hi, Doctor Harrington, This is Y/n Hargrove.”
“Oh hello, Y/n, how is everything going?” his friendly voice sounds down the phone line.
“You said I could call you if I had any concerns, and this morning, um, well I’m bleeding a little, it’s only very light, but I just want to be sure that it’s nothing I should be afraid of.”
“You were absolutely right to call me Y/n, come in to see me, and I’ll be able to check you over.” he reassures you with that calming voice of his. “I can squeeze you in for an appointment tomorrow morning, if you like? Say, 7.00?”
“7.00? That would be great, thank you very much. It’s nice that you’re open early enough that I’m not going to be late for work.” you chuckle lightly. “Well, I won’t keep you, and I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor.”
“See you tomorrow Mrs. Hargrove.” he finishes, and you hang up the phone back on it’s receiver before getting back to work.
Munson’s Motor Repairs
The heady mix of motor oil, leather and dirt hung heavy in the air as Steve stepped through the garage door. Metallica’s Ride The Lightning filters from the battered tape player stacked on top of the work benches.
After a long day’s work this was not a place that Steve wanted to be, but Eddie had phoned him up earlier to let him know his car was fixed and ready to be picked up.
Walking over to the stereo Steve takes it upon himself to pause the music, the loud guitar music suddenly being cut off in favour of deafening silence.
“Hey, who the fuck turned off my music…” Eddie grumbles loudly, sliding out from underneath the body of the car he was working on. His dark curls tied back in a dishevelled bun at the back of his neck, and a few smeared grease stains decorate his skin. “Oh, Harrington it’s you.”
“Got a call from a friend who said my car was ready to be picked up? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Eddie?”
“C’mon man, she’s out the back, come with me.”
Eddie walks out to the back yard, with Steve’s footsteps trailing behind him.
“Alright here she is, all fixed up and ready to go.” Eddie says, gesturing towards Steve’s old Beemer, sighing with a disapproving sigh as he side-eyed Steve.
“What? Steve shrugged, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“Seriously man,” Eddie said, wiping his grease stained hands on the cloth rag hanging from his coverall’s pocket. “When was the last time you got your oil changed? Thought a smart doctor like you would have some brains knocking about in that ol’ skull of yours.”
Steve blushed an embarrassing shade of crimson, having been caught out by the simplest of fixes with his car.
“Alright Munson, enough of your jokes, how much do I owe you?”
“That’ll be $70 today Steve-o.”
Fishing out the notes from his wallet, Steve hands Eddie the money with a resigned huff.
“Thanks man.” Steve says, bringing Eddie into a quick one-armed hug, before getting in his car.
“You’re welcome, just make sure you’re on top of this next time.”
“Will do.” Steve nods at Eddie out of the driver’s side window. “Say, uh, Ed, you don’t happen to know of a little diner along I70 do you?”
“You talking about Byer’s Pie Diner? Man, that place serves the best pies in the whole of Indiana, I swear. I always get a slice of the Cherry Dream Pie every time I go. That’s the best thing on that whole damn menu.” Eddie rambles, thinking to himself about how he’s gonna drive down there when he’s finished up here to treat himself to a slice. “Why are you asking about that all of a sudden, huh?”
“Oh it’s nothing.” Steve brushes off. “Had a patient come in who works there, and she brought me a pie.”
Eddie fixes Steve with a knowing glare and a small smile. There was a girl, that fact Eddie was sure of. There was always a girl when it came to Steve Harrington
“Alright, Harrington, it's nothing. I believe you.” Eddie smirks, tapping his hand against the hood of Steve's car. “See you around, man.”
“Hello, Y/n.” Steve says as he moves to sit down behind his desk.
“Hi,” you smile, sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk. “It was quiet out there in that waiting room, it was only Maddelyn at the reception.”
“I-uh-I came in a little earlier than usual to see you, nobody else is here yet.” he says, a slight pinkish flush dusting across his cheeks, before coughing and changing the subject. “So you said that the bleeding was very mild?” he asks, eyes flicking over the notes on his computer.
“Yeah, I only saw it the one time.”
“..And then it stopped?”
“Yeah it stopped pretty soon after.” you nod.
“Sometimes this happens in the early stages of a pregnancy, it’s very common, and it’s usually around about the time that your period would have started.”
“So you don’t need to examine me or anything?”
“No, not at all, it’s a perfectly normal thing, and I wouldn’t worry about it that much.”
“Well that’s a relief.” you huff. “So is that all then?”
“Unless you had any other concerns you’d like to share, or any other questions?” Steve prompts, looking at you from under his shaggy fringe of hair.
“No, no, I think I’m good to go now.” you nod with a smile as you grab your purse and begin to make your way out his doctor’s office, before turning on your heels to face him once more.
“Actually, no, I did have one more question I wanted to ask you, Doctor Harrington.”
“Oh, okay, sure, shoot.”
“Why did you have me come all this way out to see you if spotting a perfectly common symptom in early pregnancy? I mean I had to get up early, catch a bus and then walk another four blocks just to get here, and you’re telling me that spotting is a perfectly normal symptom?” you bubble, the confused and slightly disgruntled tone in your voice coming through.
He hangs his head down, unable to meet your harsh gaze.
“And what time does this office usually open, Doctor? 8:30?” you question him, tilting your head at him as he flushes that familiar shade of pink once more.
“Um, we’re usually open by 9.00.” he mumbles.
“9.00? So, you came to work a whole two hours earlier just to tell me that my symptoms are perfectly normal?”
“Well, yes, it would seem that way,” he says quietly.
“Goodbye Doctor Harrington.” you say, giving him a curt nod as you make your way out of his office.
“Goodbye Y/n.”
“You know, you’re quite strange, and you make me uncomfortable. I’m not sure I want you to be my doctor anymore.”
“I really am truly sorry Y/n, it is never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, and whatever it is I do I will stop doing it-” he starts to ramble, but you cut him off before he can finish.
“-You’re doing it again.” you snap at him. “It’s that nice-guy-talky-thing that you do. You just..Oh forget it.” you huff before finally stomping out of the doctor’s practice
You only make it the few steps out of the door before you’re cursing at yourself at having left your purse in his office.
Stomping back towards the door, Steve is there with your purse in his hands.
“You forgot your pur-” he gets cut off by you again, although this time it is for a completely different reason.
Your lips crash against his in a bruising kiss, which he leans into, wrapping one of his strong arms around your waist, holding you close to his body.
You’re quick to pull away from him, suddenly thinking about what you were doing, before trying to make your escape.
“Y/n wait!” he calls after you. “Don’t walk away from me, please.”
Your hurried footsteps stop enough for Steve to catch up to you.
“What do you want?” you huff.
“I want to see you again. I want to talk to you somewhere away from here, maybe we could go somewhere, have coffee or something?”
“I can’t have coffee, it’s on the bad food list you gave me, remember?”
“You could have a glass of water, maybe a fruit juice? I just want to see you again.” he says, his hazel brown eyes soft on you as he talks.
Your mind is working a mile a minute, thinking about how wrong this is.
“No, no, I can’t do this. I wouldn’t be right, I’m mean; I’m married, you’re my doctor, I’m pregnant.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have asked, it’s crazy and unethical and-” his rambling gets cut off once again as he feels the press of your soft lips against his. Urgent and desperate and so fucking sweet. He slips his tongue between your parted lips, smiling slightly when he hears you moan into the kiss.
You wind your fingers into his hair, tugging against the shaggy strands as you try to somehow get closer to him. His large hands hold you close, holding their space on your hips as he kisses you with a deep-rooted need.
You pull away from his lips, with a panting breath before looking into his lust-hazy hazel eyes.
“We can’t be kissing each other in the street like this. I have a very jealous husband. He’d very likely kill you if he ever found out. He doesn’t even like it when other men so much as look in my direction.”
“Well, I did wrestling in high-school, I think I can still remember a few of the moves..” Steve says all too confidently.
“So did he.” you say flatly. “And he drives past here every morning on his way to work, so it’s probably best we don’t stand out here together for much longer.”
“Well why don’t you come back in and we can talk about things a little bit more in detail..” Steve says suggestively, raising his eyebrows up at you.
“No, I’ve got to get to work, Jim hates it when I’m late, and I’ve got to walk the four blocks to my bus stop..” you worry, before Steve stops you in your tracks.
“Let me drive you to work, please. At least it’ll give us a little time together.“
I really mean it, I’d like to see you again, and not just as my patient this time.” he says, kissing your lips once more, and buttoning the top three buttons of his shirt, from where they had been pried loose from you getting a bit too handsy whilst making out in his car.
“So, what do we.. I mean, should I…” Steve trails off.
“Thank you for driving me to work, Steve. I’ll call you if I have any questions or concerns.” you flush before moving to make your way out of his car.
“Y/n.” he calls out to you before you can go, gesturing towards your lips where your lipstick is smeared in a dusky pink swipe.
“Oh, uh, thanks for letting me know, that could have been an embarrassing one to have to explain to Robin.” you laugh quickly fixing your lipstick in his rear-view mirror with a tissue from your purse, and leaving his car with a new-found pep in your step.
@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies
#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x female reader#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x female reader fluff#steve harrington x reader series#steve harrington stranger things
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
The destruction of the family diner in SPN's 14x13 Lebanon:
So many family & Dean symbols
Zachariah appears in front of a GARAGE (Al's Automobile Garage - Automobile Repairing). The light spotlights closed wooden doors, a callback to Castiel's arrival.
Papers and wrappers blow in the wind. There's a shopping cart with a big tire in it. Shopping is another family motif.
Cas joins him from the side of the shopping cart. (Combat isn't Zach's strong suit, I'm guessing, so he needs a specialist with him at all times.)
The next shot includes more CHECKERBOARDED patterned papers, a call-forward to the family unit/family diner. They're restaurant wrappers, strewn about like garbage, the specter of the trampling of the family diner.
Zachariah is disgusted by it, shaking his foot like it's dog poop.
"Earth. You're always stepping in something."
///
Dean's family diner
Zachariah and Cas enter the diner. The triangular neon sign "PSYCHIC" is lit up behind them, its eye peering at the audience. (I think it's a callback to Pamela, anther one of Dean's first contacts with Cas.)
This family diner is a pizza parlor called Big Little B&E Palace Pizza & Pasta. (Or something like that; probably just B&E.) To quote Shaggy from Scoobynatural, it's "like, a great Italian pizza place."
Also B&E -> like "breaking and entering."
///
The menu's got something for everyone:
The Classic Italian, The Greek, the Bacon Double Cheeseburger (Dean), Deluxe Hawaiian (Jack), Garden Veggie (Sam), Super Supreme.
Next to the menu, there's a bronze Roman warrior bust.
On the wall, two coats hang among the mass of coats, touching -- a gray one reminiscent of Dean's dead guy robe and something khaki-tan like Cas's.
///
Cut to Cas, directly positioned in front of the menu and next to the warrior bust. Cas will be shot in view of this threatening bust for much of this scene.
Zach orders Cas to get ready to murder everyone. The lights above the cashier counter burst. We get a shot of Cas powering up that bears some resemblance to the shot of Godstiel at the end of season 6.
When he powers up the windows of the family pizza diner light up, garnering the attention of Sam and Dean, who happen to be RIGHT OUTSIDE 528 B & E.
///
Shot of Cas powered up and ready to kill. The Roman soldier bust remains in the shot.
Enter Sam and Dean.
When Dean calls for Cas, the bust drops from the shot, but only for a second. Instead, we see more of the family diner menu. However, when Dean pleads, "Cas, you know us!" Cas hardens.
"I don't know you." And suddenly, the bust is back in the shot.
Dean's expression is like whiplash. Ow.
"Kill them."
Warrior--pizza--Cas. It's a mockery of Dean's family.
///
The fight & destruction of Dean's family diner
Cas attacks Dean first--throws him into two silver serving trays.
Cut to Zachariah choking Sam...in front of sailboats from Italy, Lago di Garda. (Famously, Lake Garda has something for everyone with its colorful towns, majestic castles, ancient Roman ruins, sun-kissed beaches, vineyards, amusement parks, and historical sites.)
These paired sails bring to mind Mary & John. Or Dean & Cas.
Side note: Absolutely hilarious that Zach blames Sam for the disturbance. Dean is the one who made the wish.
///
Dean is on the defense, but whacking Cas with a silver platter is pretty much like hammering an unmovable wall. Cas just keeps coming. He backhands Dean face-first into a brick wall.
Side sidenote: I'm glad the boys' angel blades hadn't disappeared yet. A few minutes later and the timeline might've eaten them, leaving the boys defenseless.
Side side sidenote: Although Dean favors Cas with the blunt end of the angel blade, quickly getting disarmed in the process, Sam's not that nice. After dispatching Zach, he attacks Cas with the pointy end.
Cas punches Sam in the face...and then backhands Dean again. Sam comes for more, gets the vector of his blade blocked, and gets choked again.
Cas throws Sam into one of the family diner table, spilling the meal the three Lebanon friends had been enjoying. The destruction of the family meal. The tablecloth is the same checkerboard pattern than Zach trampled earlier.
Elbow to Dean's face. Dean gets thrown into the shelf of dishes. The glasses on the top shelf shatter. Both white mugs fall, too. Everything shatters, and Dean falls into the glass. The destruction of the metaphorical kitchen, the domestic space with coffee cups.
#help#lebanon#i can't get screenshots with my computer cause it won't run my dvds rn#SO#here you go#i'll add pics later maybe#i'll rb it when i do#my computer hates me sooo much
59 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Beautiful 1920 home in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Isn’t it stately? Has 6bd., 3ba. $915K.
Lovely large porch., but I see that the ceiling needs a little repair.
Nice center hall. All the millwork is original.
Very formal sitting room. It gets a lot of light- not a dark, dank, dusty looking sitting rooms. They painted the wood white in here, even one side of the pocket doors.
The dining room has what looks like a beautiful fireplace, but they don’t show it. You’d think that would be a selling point.
What possessed them to choose shuttered cabinets, I don’t know. They look like they’re from IKEA.
Love the fireplace in the family room- that’s a real beauty. I wonder if the floor fan conveys.
Lovely stained glass window on the stair landing.
Very nice large master has a fireplace.
This hall could serve as a closet.
Here’s another nice big room w/a fireplace.
Oh, wow, the bath was modernized, but it has a vintage look.
All of the bds. are big and all have fireplaces. Very nice.
Another modern bath.
They made a play/family room in the attic.
It also has a nice big deck, a garage that looks like it’s just for storage, and a sizeable yard for being in a major city.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1160-Portland-St-Pittsburgh-PA-15206/11620331_zpid/
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pattern Garage Door Arcadia CA
When a garage door component breaks, you need quick, reliable assistance. In order to serve consumers in Arcadia, California, effortlessly and conveniently, Pattern Garage Door Arcadia CA service was established. When it's convenient for you, we'll provide trustworthy service. In Arcadia, California, we'll do it better than anyone else in the field. call Pattern Garage Door Arcadia CA on (626)385-6437.
Discount:
Starting as low as New Rollers $99 off.
Starting as low as New Operators $199 off.
Starting as low as New Garage Doors $249 off.
Garage Doors Repair Service TODAY! (with purchase of parts) New Operators $75 off.
On all Single Garage Doors $100 off.
On Double Car Steel Insulated Garage Doors $200 off and $100 OFF SINGLE DOOR.
Working Hours : -
Mon - Fri 8:00 AM - 7:00 PM
Sat - Sun 9:00 AM - 5:00 PM
address:-
625 Las Tunas Dr Arcadia, CA 91007
#roll up garage door#fix broken garage door#commercial garage door#garage door spring repair#garage door openers.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trigger warning for mentions of suicide (not me, Jon's been very depressed and I'm worried)
So the tenancy branch called Jon and told him apparently he's going about this eviction of his tenant wrong. Idk if I've mentioned that he's evicting her. She keeps breaking windows and the back door has been kicked in twice and replaced and the current back door makes it look like a fucking trap house. Someone burned the garage to the ground. One of the windows has a bullet hole in it that came from inside the house. Her ex husband shot someone inside the house (separate incident to the bullet hole in the window). You get the jist.
Anyway, so he had to hand the phone off to me because he was so wound up that he couldn't understand. All he has to do is give her a warning letter and the lady suggested we give a deadline of a week and a half. And then if she hasn't made the repairs by the end of the deadline she gets served with another eviction notice and has to be out by the end of December. But now he's all worried that she's gonna trash the place so bad that he can't rent it out again.
My guy. What did you think low income tenants were going to be like?? Like you very much signed up for this.
So then he immediately goes into "everyone thinks I'm a terrible person now" and "I'm the bad guy" because his self-esteem is so shite and yeah everyone fucking hates landlords and tenancy is there to protect tenants, not landlords.
I returned his energy because he was just yelling and not listening to me and I told him to shut the fuck up and listen and sit down for a second. He takes this as me not allowing him to have his feelings, which is not what I'm trying to do and I don't think that's what I'm doing, correct me if I'm wrong, please.
Like I was just trying to bring him back to earth and get him to listen to how simple this whole thing is and that we will deal with things as they happen because we have no control over a lot of this shit now so we are just going to have to get through it. We have the tools to do this, it's not going to be the end of the fucking world. We got this. But NO. Then he gets in his truck and leaves, says he's going for a drive. But now I have to sit here and be all worried that he's not coming home. I have no idea if he's gonna go off and kill himself. I feel like I can't leave him alone because he's been so depressed for so long.
He refuses to help himself. I don't think his parents ever taught him how to, they just fixed everything for him all the time instead of letting him figure shit out. So I'm the one that has to find him a private psychiatrist and make an appointment and I'm the one that has to call his family Dr. to make appointments when he's feeling shitty and won't stop complaining about it, but also won't do anything to try to fix it.
I just want a quiet fucking life. I don't want all this drama all the time. Everything is drama with this guy. Everything is the end of the fucking world all the time. I'm over it. I'm done. I'm scared of what he might do to himself when I leave, but I'm so fucking miserable being with him at this point.
And I think he knows I'm leaving. He's been so weird lately. Trying to be clingy and touchy, even tho I don't want it, and he's been very generous paying for a lot of things lately. Which just makes me feel more guilty, but then shit like this blows up and I am reminded again and again of why I'm leaving. But I'm starting to wonder if I need to just bite the bullet and kick him out of our house and end things now. I can't keep doing this. I'm sick and tired of dealing with all of this all the time.
I don't want to have to constantly do all the hard things for him. I didn't choose this. I did not make the choice to buy rental properties. I was actually very much against this when he started. I didn't want him to, but I didn't want to stomp on his dreams, either. I tried to steer him away, I tried to get him to just move us into the first house he bought, but no. He wanted to be a landlord because he wants to be rich and he listened to too many of those finance bros online and got it into his head that it would be easy. But I'm the one expected to pick things up when it's too hard and he can't. Or he expects his parents and his brother and me to just stop and help him with this shit (for free) when he needs help. I've told him to just pay people to do it, but "Oh I can't afford to." Then you can't afford to be doing this at all bro. Like you literally signed up for this and you cannot expect your elderly parents to help you with all the cleaning and repairing when you buy another house. You can't just expect me to do your administrative work for fucking free and then also be your spouse and therapist and mother on top of it all.
I'm just so frustrated and angry and worried right now and I can't fucking wait until I'm out of this and it's done with. I want to enjoy my life without all this bullshit.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) 18+ Chapter One
WORDCOUNT: 6267
TRIGGERS: Age Gap, 911 Call, Police
CHAPTER ONE - SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS!
youtube
The blistering Texas sun beamed down on the pavement, smothering downtown Mansfield in an oppressive heat wave. The cloudless sky stretched on in an expanse of clear blue, offering no respite from the sweltering 93°F temperature. The only escapes from the relentless rays were the shady trees in the parks or the cool relief of air conditioning indoors.
As Calleigh locks the office door, she feels the heat radiating in from outside. Having worked in her dad's delivery business for a little over three months now, she easily navigates the building, double-checking that everything is secured for the weekend. Approaching the exit, the intense heat worsens. Calleigh lifts her shirt, revealing a cute pink butterfly piercing on her belly button - a small act of rebellion she got after her first visit with her dad following her mom's move to New York with a new boyfriend. Pushing aside thoughts of New York and the boyfriend she detests, Calleigh fans her exposed stomach with her shirt in a futile attempt to withstand the heat on her way out, silently thanking the universe for Fridays and weekends.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Brock backs his day-old black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 as close to the garage door as possible. Searching for the key to turn off the engine, he suddenly remembers this truck has a keyless start/stop system—all he has to do is push a button. Brock chuckles a bit of his lack of knowledge about his new car, before he makes a mental note to get used to the new feature.
Though the car met all his needs, Brock struggled to adjust to its high-tech features. While he wanted to embrace the smart house, smart phone, smart car lifestyle, at heart he was old-fashioned. To Brock, a car should just be a car, and a phone just a phone. These days, cars were becoming more like living spaces, packed with extra gadgets and gizmos; and those new phones were multipurpose devices that served not only as phones, but also as calendars, alarm clocks, cameras, journals, and computers. He almost felt that he was too old to keep up, with his 46 years, Brock started to feel that his youth had passed him by long ago.
Placing his toned muscular forearm on the center console; Brock looks over the dashboard. The car's built-in entertainment system was bigger than his nephew's tablet. The right side of the screen informed him that the temperature was a scorching 94°F and climbing; moving over to the left side, where he could decide on what radio station to listen to, operate the car's cameras, use the built-in GPS system, connect his phone via Bluetooth and a bunch of other stuff he'd probably never use.
A quick glance at the clock told him that he had to get to work. He had promised Jack ages ago that he would fix the Oil leak, change the filter, the camshaft belt and do an overall service on the car. But the parts he needed weren't always easy to come by. So here he was, grabbing his mechanic's creeper off his truck, to finally do the job; four months behind schedule.
Brock swings open the garage door, revealing the stunning 1967 Chevy Impala. The sleek black exterior gleams in the sunlight, resembling a rare diamond. Despite its age and need for repairs, the Impala exudes charm, blending masculinity and nostalgic charm. Like Brock, Jack shares a fondness for vintage cars, true American muscle cars such as this. The old cassette player still hums within, and Jack hasn't altered a single detail on the car. There's a palpable sense of trust between them as Brock cherishes the responsibility and level of trust Jack has placed in his hands.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh frowned at her license photo. At only 20 years old, she had not yet grown comfortable with her appearance. She felt her nasal bone was too thick, making her eyes seem too far apart. Makeup helped camouflage this to some extent, but no amount of makeup could alter her height. At 5'10", she was taller than average, which made finding flattering clothes a challenge. She often wished she had her mother's petite 5'3" frame, having clearly inherited her stature from the Rollins side of the family. While she could live with her blonde hair, she wished it had more volume. Her lips were too pale and thin for her liking, though makeup could fix that as well. Unlike her mother's ocean blue eyes, Calleigh had green eyes, another Rollins family trait. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Calleigh took stock of herself - blonde hair, blonder in summer; green eyes; lightly pinked lips with distinctive dips cupping her nose; a high forehead. She was a harmonious blend of both parents.
Calleigh connects her phone to the car's entertainment system, the little screen in the middle of the dashboard makes it easy to navigate through spotify to find her song, Coldplay and The Chainsmokers with Something Just Like This. It’s a song that seems fitting for her life right now.
Ever since she moved back to Texas, and Mansfield, she felt like her whole life was already planned for her.
She would get a seat at the board of directors alongside her dad and her grandfather in the delivery business on her 21st birthday in December. It would give her a comfortable and financially steady life, but very few choices.
With an exasperated sigh, Calleigh places her purse in the passenger seat. The black leather seat had small stitched details, a lighter shade of burnt orange in color, along the sides, giving it a more luxurious look.
When her dad had offered to buy her a new car, Calleigh had opted for the Mini Cooper, a car she felt was more suitable for her needs. But Jack had his mind made up on a 2020 Chevrolet Impala, black of course, to have it blend in with the other cars in the garage. After a bit of discussing back and forth, Calleigh had just given up. A car was a car, and she needed one. Although she would have given almost anything to have a convertible right now.
She was thankful for the car, it was nice and spacious with its four doors and five seats, it had room enough for both Calleigh and her friends.
The trunk suited all of her needs with enough room for both grocery shopping and a shopping spree at the local mall. The black leather seats with the burnt orange stitching offered comfort with their user friendly adjustment mechanism. The center console, designed with faux wood, held a spacious storage compartment and a double cup holder, one of which now held the almost empty Venti iced caramel latte that Calleigh got from Starbucks this morning.
The comfortable, highly equipped steering wheel made it easy to answer the phone, change songs, adjust the volume, as well as the heat in the winter. The 2020 Chevy Impala did indeed deliver a luxurious and comfortable driving experience.
She grew up in a well off family, both of her parents came from money. Both the Rollins Delivery Service and the Lewis Jewelry line had been around for generations, earning themselves a good reputation and money to live a more than comfortable life. Despite all of this, Calleigh had never seen herself as spoiled. She knew nothing came for free, that she had to work hard in school, and she had to earn her allowance. Her parents, even if they were never together, had made sure of that.
The drive from downtown Mansfield to South Pointe was roughly 10 to 15 minutes long, depending on traffic. But in this heat, Calleigh feels that it took two hours. Her shirt is sticking to her back, and her throat screams for water to the point where she's about to chug the last of the latte that had been sitting in her car all day. All she wanted was to change into a bikini and spend the rest of the weekend relaxing by the pool in the backyard.
Despite having to spend the weekend alone; without her two best friends. Jessica was preparing for her undergraduate degree, and Molly had been assigned to take a HR Masterclass in Seattle. Her dad was away as well, having a tiny legal crisis in Chicago, he had decided to fly over there himself, to oversee the negotiations. Calleigh looked forward to a weekend by the pool.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
As Calleigh approaches the house, she notices the black Pickup truck that's backed all the way into the now open garage door. Not a truck she recognizes, and they rarely had any other unannounced visitors other than her grandparents or Brock from time to time. But Brock was on a work spree these days. Calleigh hadn’t even seen him since she moved back home; which was strange, because in summertime he practically lived in the garage. Fixing her dad’s various vehicles, as well as his own; whilst sharing some beers with her dad. It was almost so that she thought that they had fallen out. But the legal crisis in Chicago had occupied her dad for quite some time, so that might be it. The two men simply didn't have time for social get-togethers these days. Even Friday Night BBQ was put on hold for the time being.
The Friday Night BBQ was one of Calleigh's most cherished traditions. Her dad and Brock manned the grill while she and her friends frolicked in the pool or yard. As they aged, they took on more duties. Molly routinely brought her signature focaccia and salad— a recipe Calleigh unsuccessfully tried recreating time and time again. Jess handled dessert; her Texas-style peach cobbler was unrivaled, the moist and buttery delight created a sweet symphony on her pallads, and topped with a scoop of peach ice cream, it became unresistable no matter how much anyone had for dinner. Occasionally Molly's mom and Jess's parents joined, packing the expansious backyard with joy, nostalgia, and hearty laughter.
With the memories of time well spent, playing like a movie in her head, Calleigh drives past the house at 2 mph as she examines the truck that's parked in front of the garage. A black Silverado, newer model. Having grown up with a father like Jack, with his fondness for cars, she's picked up a thing or ten. Of course it also helped that she spent numerous afternoons at the Rumlow garage in her early teens, when her dad worked late, or her mom spent time with that new boyfriend.
Calleigh's body goes cold when she remembers the 67 Impala in the garage. Jack's favorite car. He spent years finding the perfect one. If someone is trying to steal it, or parts from it; Jack would go ballistic. And given his military background, it'll not be pretty. For a second Calleigh feels like a six-year old, not knowing what to tell her parents when she broke a glass or spilled water on her bed.
Though South Pointe was a gated community, there were no guards on site. To enter, you needed either a code from a resident or a chip that automatically opened the gate. With the recent expansions and the constant flow of workers going in and out, it was easy for anyone to get in, whether they belonged there or not. And with a truck like the new Silverado, you could easily drive in, fill the spacious bed with whatever you were stealing; and then drive back out, without anyone raising a brow.
Calleigh takes a deep breath, weighing her options. Should she call the police or confront the person in the garage herself? Having spent four years in New York, she knows how to handle situations and always keeps pepper spray in her purse, even in Mansfield, where crime rates are lower. Despite the safer environment, she's aware that appearances can be deceiving, and anyone could pose a threat.
Turning her car at the end of the street, Calleigh retrieves her phone from her purse, its cute pink cover with butterflies and faux diamonds contrasting with the ominous atmosphere she envisions in the garage. Without overthinking, she dials 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice responds after a few rings.
“I'm.…I think someone is breaking into my house,” Calleigh says, suddenly unsure if 9-1-1 was the right choice.
“Are you in the house, ma’am?” The voice persists. Calleigh hesitates, considering whether to hang up and face the intruder alone. “Ma’am, are you inside the house?” the voice repeats.
“N..no. I.. I'm outside.. In my car. I don't know what to do. I… I..” Calleigh is desperate, on the verge of crying. She can't remember the last time she didn't want to be home alone. But this is one of those times.
“What's your name ma'am?” The voice continues, still in that calm tone.
Calleigh takes a breath “Calleigh Lewis Rollins.” She replies, with a shaky breath. Trying to calm down her beating heart.
“Do you know if they're armed?” The woman on the phone continues. Calleigh feels that ice cold feeling in her stomach. Armed? She didn't think about that at all. What if they're armed, what does she do then?
“I don't know. I don't know!” She shakily replies. Her voice on the verge of breaking. Without realizing that she does, she reaches for her pepper spray. The little 3 inch pink container designed as a keychain was easy to carry around, easy to use and it had a neutral design, which made it perfect to carry around for self defense.
“Calleigh, calm down. You're going to be fine. I'll dispatch a unit to your location. What's your address?” The voice continues in a calm soothing manner, which helps to calm Calleigh down.
“2837 Chandler Court” Calleigh replies, happy that she remembered the address. She hasn't lived here too long, and in this particular situation it's things like that that usually slips.
“Do you have any firearms in the house?” Another question about guns. It's not that Calleigh wasn't used to them, it was just that in this situation, guns didn't feel like a safe topic. And this is Texas, everyone has firearms.
“Y..Yeah, we have some. Seven or ten maybe.” Calleigh replies as she does a mental runthrough of the house, trying to remember where Jack keeps all his guns. The gun cabinet in the living room, the hide away cabinet in his bedroom, and the safe in the….. garage. Calleigh takes another shaky breath as she imagines some bad ass crocks breaking into that safe.
“I've dispatched a unit to your location. They'll be there in about ten minutes. And Calleigh, please lock the doors, and stay in the car until the unit arrives.” The voice on the phone informs her, still calm and collected. Calleigh can't believe how they manage to be this calm with people in shock, pain, rage, people who're scared out of their minds. But now, today, she's extremely thankful for it.
Clenching the container with pepper spray in her hand, Calleigh almost whispers into the phone “Yes. Thank you.”
“Calleigh, please stay in the car.” The lady on the phone says again. But Calleigh can hardly hear it. She flips the top of the container in her hand, as she hangs up the phone, and slowly exits the car.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
With half an eye on the wrench around the unwilling screw, and half an eye on the bucket for the oil, Brock tries to get the screw to give. His left foot firmly planted on the concrete garage floor to steady himself, as he struggles to get the screw loose. His biceps flexing, the veins on his arm popping. His teeth clenched in concentration, and the sweat dripped from his forehead.
Brock applies just a bit more muscle power, determined to get the screw to give. The sweat on his hands makes him lose his grip around the wrench. His hand flies up, hitting the car, as the wrench falls to the floor, creating an echo around the oversized garage. “Aaaa, fuck,” he almost screams, as he shakes his hand to try to ease the pain.
The sound of metal hitting concrete, the echo that follows and the screaming make Calleigh jump. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and that ice cold feeling in her stomach comes back. Yes, the 9-1-1 dispatcher told her to lock the doors and stay in the car. But ten minutes? They should know how much damage that can be done within ten minutes. She had to leave the car. But with the screaming and the noise. Maybe she should've stayed put. Anyway, it's too late for that now.
Calleigh places her thumb on the top of the pepper spray container. “Stop what you're doing I have a weapon!” She yells, surprised by how firm her voice is, she lifts the container, ready to attack.
Brock jumps under the car from the voice yelling, something about a weapon. Startled, he tries to sit up, but since he's under the car, sitting up only serves for him to bang his head against the car. “Fuck! Shit! Don't shoot, I'm unarmed!” He yells back in a haste. Quickly moving the creeper, so he can stand up.
Getting up faster than he's ever done before, raising his arms to show whoever it is that he is indeed unarmed. “Don't shoot! I'm un-,” when he sees Calleigh he stops for a second “armed….” He breathes out in surprise at the woman standing before him. Beautiful. That's the only thing he can say about her; Silently in his mind of course.
Calleigh carefully drinks in the man in front of her. His well-worn jeans sit comfortably on his hips, a cloth tucked into the right side. His V-shaped lower abdomen is unlike anything she's seen before, leading up to a six-pack and impressive pecs that could be straight out of a commercial. The oil stains and sweat on his upper body add a sexy touch. Moving upward, she notices strong pecs lightly dusted with chest hair. As she lifts her face, broad-toned shoulders barely register in her mind compared to the veiny upper arms that make her knees feel weak. Before fully revealing the rest, she takes a breath and discovers a strong jawline, dark facial hair, followed by soft, playful, and kissable lips, a broad nose perfectly placed on his flawless face. As her gaze reaches further, she encounters two soft hazel brown eyes adorned with dark lashes and brows. Calleigh's heart skips a beat, and in surprise, she breathes out, "Brock?”
Brock had never seen such beauty and grace. Calleigh had blossomed into a stunning woman, with shoulder-length blonde locks with a few curls framing her face. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted in surprise, complementing her petite nose and accentuating the delicate curves of her upper lip. Her emerald eyes shone like gemstones, undoubtedly a Rollins family trait.
Brock swallows, his heart does a jump in his chest. “Calleigh?” His voice carried a bit of surprise. He remembered Calleigh as a rebellious 16-year old, getting belly-button piercings without permission. He did not expect this God sent beauty. And he's not sure how he should react. This is Jack's daughter. He shouldn't feel his heart jump like this because of her.
Jesus Christ, Calleigh thinks for herself. Did she just think about Brock's lips as kissable? Brock Rumlow? Her dad's best friend. Naha, no way. Take it back, take it back, take it back; she repeats the three words again and again in her head, like a mantra. It's all in vain, when Brock's lips slowly curl up into a half smile. His upper lip on the left side curls up, revealing his teeth. Calleigh feels drawn to it. It's like magnetism, an invisible force that's dragging her towards him. She swallows in a desperate attempt to keep her heart out of her throat. It's Brock, Calleigh! He's over 40 years old, and your dad's best friend; the voice in her head screams to her at this point.
"What errr..." Brock takes the cloth from his jeans and wipes his hands on it before continuing. "What are you doing here?" he questions, his eyes traveling over her. Her short-sleeved white shirt reveals the small dips by her collarbone, and Brock's fingers twitch as his mind imagines gliding his fingertips over them. He knows he shouldn't feel this way. Why does he feel this way? Further down the shirt lays tight over her breasts, Brock swallows from the sight of them. Jesus, get it together, Brock; he silently curses at himself.
“I live here.” Calleigh replies, before he can take in the rest of her. She rubs her hand on her neck. The garage offers shade and a living temperature, but she can still feel the heat from outside. And looking at Brock all sweaty and sexy isn't helping at all. “What are you doing here?” She continues, she knows that's a stupid question. He was on his creeper, under the car when she came in, and the oil stains are also a big giveaway.
“I'm fixing your Dad’s car,” Brock answers her question with a little smile, and a tap on the hood of the Impala. “How's that neighborhood watch thing going for ya?” He adds with a little chuckle.
“Huh?” Calleigh feels like she just fell out of the sky. And she imagines that it must look that way too.
Brock gestures with his head to the container in her right hand, and Calleigh looks down to see her thumb still firmly placed on the top of it. Quickly putting the cap back on, she puts her hand behind her back. “It's nothing. It's just…” she tries, but the damage is already done. The only thing she can hope for now, is that Brock won't tell Jack about it.
“For protection?” Brock asks, as he wipes his abs with the cloth. When Calleigh doesn't answer, he continues. “New York taught you a few things huh?” He delivers the question with an understanding head tilt.
Calleigh takes a breath “Yeah I guess you could say—“ she’s interrupted by sirens approaching.
Brock lets out a little laugh “You called the cops on me.” It's more of a statement than a question. Calleigh feels a rush of embarrassment, as Brock lets out another friendly laugh.
“Not so much on you.. I..” Calleigh starts, moving her legs nervously. “I.. I thought you were someone else,” she tries, but without any kind of words to complete that sentence.
“Well, guess I can only hope that they won't arrest me,” Brock continues to chuckle, as he swings the cloth over his left shoulder, and walks outside to face the police.
Calleigh stays behind for a second or two before she shakes her head and lets out an exasperating breath. This is too embarrassing. Did she really call the cops on Brock? Jesus, she's never going to hear the end of this. This'll be one of those stories that'll be mentioned in a speech at her wedding. She can just hear it in her head ‘And you can feel totally safe, Calleigh will protect her terf whatever the cost. I remember…’ Shaking her head again, she walks outside as well.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Not one, not two, but three units showed up. Thank you so much brain, for mentioning all the firearms in the house. Calleigh thinks to herself. Thankfully the misunderstanding was easy to clear up. Two of the officers knew Brock, which was understandable since Brock owned the only garage around that was certified to work on the police vehicles. And of course it helped that both the Lewis and the Rollins name was well known around these parts.
Just as the officers are leaving, Calleigh spots Mrs. Callahan across the street, coming out of her house with her walker. Mrs. Callahan was this tiny 4’9" little old lady, with long gray frizzy hair, she always wore white compression socks, a skirt with flower patterns on, a white shirt, a home knitted cardigan and brown slippers, she had lived across the street since forever. She was a really nice old lady, but she put her nose into absolutely everything.
“Miss Calleigh.” She yells across the street, with what little voice she has left. “Miss Calleigh, is everything alright?” She continues, as she walks across the street towards them.
“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan, everything is fine. Don’t worry.” Calleigh smiles at the old lady.
“I saw the police. Are you sure everything is alright? How's your father? Jack is such a sweetheart, don't you think?” Mrs. Callahan continues to talk. The thing with Mrs. Callahan was that after her husband passed away a few years ago, she had become very chatty. And if she started, there was almost no way of stopping her.
“Everything is perfectly fine Mrs. Callahan. It was just a misunderstanding” Brock shoots in, sending Calleigh an amused look when he says misunderstanding. “I can assure you that you can sleep safely.” He continues, giving the old lady a protective smile.
“O..Okay” Mrs. Callahan nods to Brock. Then she stops. ���Would you be so kind as to walk an old lady back home, Brock?” She continues with her distinct old lady voice.
Brock sends Calleigh a small smile, before he offers his arm to Mrs. Callahan. When they start the short walk over the street, Calleigh can hear her say ‘Such a sweetheart, such a sweetheart’ over and over again. Calleigh can't help but smile. Both from the old lady calling Brock a sweetheart, and from the fact that Brock seriously makes her heart jump, and her stomach swoop. Both of which are feelings she's never had before.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh has just finished maneuvering her car into the garage when Brock returns. Still wearing nothing but his well worn work jeans, with oil stains and rips on them. And then that body. Calleigh swallows hard to not let out any type of sound that can give away how she reacts to this man.
“You want Apple pie?” Brock asks, holding up two Apple pies, one in each hand. “Because I have two of them,” he continues, looking from Calleigh to the pies, and then back to Calleigh again.
Mrs. Callahan might be nosy to the point where Calleigh almost felt uneasy about it. But the old lady did make the most delicious Apple pies. Sweet, zesty and sugary. With the most amazing Granny Smith apples, cooked until perfection, with that sweet taste of cinnamon, a pinch of nutmeg and sugar. Calleigh remembers them from the block parties when she was a little girl. Finishing up her dinner as fast as possible, to make sure she could grab a slice before they were all gone. Her mouth still goes watery when she thinks about it.
“She gave you two?” Calleigh laughs. Smiling wide. Partly for the thought of eating Mrs. Callahan's Apple pies again and partly from the thought that she might sit down with Brock and eat them. Why is that thought so prominent? It's not like Brock hasn't had dinner or food in general in this house before. She practically grew up with him around.
“Two isn't enough?” Brock questions, placing the two pies on the roof of Calleigh's car, before he starts to turn around. “Because I'm pretty sure I can get like five more,” he continues as he starts to leave the garage. Brock chides himself. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he suddenly acting like a fuckin' teenager? Playing stupid flirting games, so that Calleigh will try to stop him, touch him. Jesus, Brock. He thinks for himself. Calleigh must think he's insane.
“No, no, no,” Calleigh hastily replies, grabbing Brock's wrist. “Two is –,” she involuntarily stops mid sentence from the sensation of Brock's skin against her palm. “Two is fine.. it's –” she continues, meeting his eyes as she lets go of his wrist. One of Brock's fingertips brushes over her palm, sending waves of shivers up her arm “perfect” she breathes out.
“Alrighty then,” Brock smiles, as he once again takes the pies. “Just heat them on 350, for 15 to 20 minutes, and we'll have ourselves a treat,” he continues as he opens the door that leads from the garage into the house.
Calleigh examines his broad and perfectly toned backside. His jeans fit perfectly over his behind. Calleigh swallows again. Stop it, she once again tells herself. “Maybe have a shower first?” She suggests, before she follows Brock. A shower? Really, Calleigh? She thinks to herself, the thought of naked Brock in the shower makes her want to slap herself. Cold shower it is. A really cold shower.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh locks the door to the downstairs bathroom, before leaning her forehead against the door. Oh,God. Is she stupid? It's frickin Brock for God's sake. What is she thinking? Turning around, she leans her back against the door, as she glances over the bathroom.
The bathroom had undergone a luxurious renovation. The once white walls were now covered in sleek black and gold marble tiles that gave the space a rich feel. The wood-look flooring stretched out, making the room seem spacious. Acoustic panels in complementary black and wood tones lined the ceiling. Gone was the indoor jacuzzi that Calleigh loved as a child, replaced by a double waterfall shower. Concrete shelves anchored the masculine vanity area. Perched atop were two oval basins crafted from natural river stone, marrying masculinity with luxury. A sauna for four to six sat in one corner, unused but admittedly stylish. Though unfamiliar, Calleigh had to concede the new bathroom was rather nice looking.
Stepping away from the door, Calleigh removes her work clothes, tossing them in the laundry basket by the door. Before she steps into the shower, she once again takes a look at herself in the mirror. She looks… What's the word? Young and inexperienced. Small breasts, though still firm and pointing the ‘right’ way, they're still small. Narrow hips. Damnit! Why does she care so much about this all of a sudden? Brock.. Like he would ever want someone like her. “Why do you care, Calleigh?” She says to the mirror, before she enters the shower.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
The guest bathroom upstairs offers every accommodation a guest might need, whether it was a short or a longer stay. The modern design, such as the subway tiles in the shower, the floating shelves for towels and toiletries, the bathtub, with it's spa-like bath pillow, and the shower curtain, resting on a black shower rod, that stretched from one wall to another, mixed with the intricate black and white pattern on the floor tiles it gave the room a contemporary yet nostalgic charm.
Brock leans forward in the shower, leaning his arms against the wall as he lets the water wash over his neck, dripping down over his eyes and nose. He takes a deep breath. He'd almost forgotten that feeling. Aside from the fact that he'd promised himself to never go down that path again, he had to admit that it did feel good. That warm feeling, that was pumped out in his entire body with every heartbeat. That childish need for physical contact. But no. He couldn't do this. Not with her. Not with Calleigh. He's 26 years older than her, old compared to her. Though he was in good physical shape, he was still older than her. A lot older. After he took his therapist's advice to work out more to clear his head, his workout routine had become his safe place. A place where he didn’t have to think about Iraq or Afghanistan or Taylor. Just thinking about her name makes him feel cold. Calleigh, he thinks for himself. Calleigh with the gemstone eyes and perfect lips. Calleigh with the soft skin he felt when his fingers brushed over her palm. Calleigh… Yeah, Calleigh’s better. Calleigh’s definitely better. Fuck, what is he doing?
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Calleigh looks between the knee-length tights and the white cotton shorts, weighing her options. The tights that cover more of her body or the comfortable shorts that's more suitable for this weather. God, this is just stupid. And why would Brock care anyway? Why does she care? Since when did what she wore around Brock become an issue? Opting for the shorts, she rolls her eyes at herself and her teenage-like thinking. The shorts fit better with the top anyway, and for some reason it feels important to look good right now.
After meticulously applying her make-up, Calleigh takes a good long look in the mirror. Her white shirt, with the blue and white butterfly pattern on the front sits perfectly on her body, hugging what's supposed to be hugged. Well, more like what's there to actually be hugged. Pouting a bit to her reflection and shaking her head at herself, she turns around checking if everything is in its right place. The straps on her bra are visible due to the shirts open back. After a few unsuccessful attempts trying to fix that issue, Calleigh gives up. Visible straps are better than a bikini anyway. No poolside relaxing today, there's no way she'll be strolling around in a tiny bikini with Brock around.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
The red light that indicates that the oven has reached its wanted temperature turns off, and Calleigh places the two pies into the oven. Thankful that Brock wasn't done upstairs yet. Those feelings she gets when he's around. They're… Calleigh doesn't even have the words to describe them. Sure she's been in love before, or at least smittened. She even had boyfriends, not too many or to long lasting, but still. But the feeling never lasted. And it was never like this. That feeling of her stomach doing gymnastics inside of her. What is that? Looking at the pies warming in the oven. Calleigh tries to make some sense out of all these emotions.
“Wouldn't it be funnier to… I don't know, watch a movie or something?” The voice suddenly talking over Calleigh's head startles her to the point where she hastily stands up. Banging her head into Brock's chin. “Ouch” Brock breathes out as he lets his hand glide over his chin.
“Oh, God,” Calleigh replies. Her expression is a mix of embarrassment and guilt. “I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” She continues, and without realizing that she does she lifts her arm to touch him where they collided. His rugged facial hair tickles her fingers as she carefully let them glide over his chin.
“I gotta say that your self-defense technique is a little unorthodox,” Brock smiles. “But it works, it definitely works,” he continues. The feeling he gets from Calleigh's touch is unlike anything he's ever felt before. A mix of excitement, guilt and that warm feeling spreading throughout his body.
Calleigh can't help but laugh. Brock always used to be funny, kinda like the cool uncle she never had since both her parents were an only child. She can remember millions of times when she was younger. Brock taking her to amusement parks, Brock dressing up as various animals or superheroes for her birthday parties, Brock letting her ride shotgun with him, even though Jack had told him not to. But for some reason the funny he shows her now, that funny feels different.
Suddenly realizing she's still touching him, Calleigh reatracts her hand, covering it with the other hand as she gives Brock an apologetic smile. What's gotten into her? Why does she feel like this around him all of a sudden?
“Is your head alright?” Brock asks, almost instantly regretting his poor choice of words. “From the… err.. bump,” he adds, when he sees the confusion on Calleigh's face. He lifts his hand, and carefully lets it glide over her head.
“Yeah”, Calleigh breathes out as she once again meets Brock's eyes. “I'm…” she continues, as Brock's hand glides down to her neck before stopping on her shoulder. “Good..” Whispering the last word so low that she's not sure Brock even hears it. It's definitely a connection between them. Or is it? Is she fooling herself? And if that's the case, then why?
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
The evening goes on. With Apple pies, ice cream, a movie on TV and a phone call from a worried Jack.
Mrs. Callahan had called him, and told him about the police being at the house. No surprise there. After about 14 failed attempts to call Calleigh, Jack had resolved to call Brock. Overprotective as he was, he was worried out of his mind. Before Brock explained how everything really went down, Jack was like two seconds away from jumping on the first flight back home. But after some discussion back and forth Brock had told him that he'd stay with Calleigh for the duration of Jack's stay in Chicago. For Calleigh, Jack's overprotectiveness in this situation was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing since this meant that she could spend some more time with Brock, and a curse for that exact same reason.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
After getting ready for bed, and before she turns off the lights, Calleigh sends a message in the group chat she shares with Molly and Jess.
‘Call me ASAP. I need to talk.’
No matter if there's a connection there or not, Calleigh needs to talk to someone about this. It's way too heavy to carry by herself. And what better people to talk to, than her two best friends.
Next Chapter ------->
@nekoannie-chan @rip1009 @late-to-the-party-81 @ladysif8
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you tell us more about Terri and Mick Pepper? I’d love to hear about Floyd’s parents
I mean, without them, Floyd wouldn’t even be here
Nice little nod to the 2015 show there!! Glad you like Terri and Mick, their dynamic is one of my favs out of my Muppet OC’s!
I’ll throw some notes here about them but I also did a story involving them on A03 called the Red Critter to anyone who wants to get a more clear idea on how they interact with each other plus Floyd! I wrote the story before the Mayhem series and it’s basically a different interpretation on how Floyd and Animal found each other! - https://archiveofourown.org/works/45466177/chapters/114396310
Here are some headcannons for them which are based off the info we got from the new series!! A few tiny spoilers to Muppets Mayhem in some so read with caution if you haven’t watched the series by this point:
-They had Floyd young and didn’t official get married till Floyd was a little kid. Even then the two didn’t have a full blown wedding, Mick popped the question to her one day after they brought their first official home together and they’ve been together ever since
-Terri grew up in California and Mick is from Boston. When they met Terri served drinks at a local bar and Mick was apart of a motor biking club who worked part time at a garage. They met at Terri’s workplace in their early twenties and after a while developed this fun back and forth dynamic: Mick would flirt with Terri, Terri would pretend to be unimpressed, then throw in a flirt back before telling Mick to pay for his drink
-They moved to New Orleans before Floyd was born as a “fresh start” together as a family. One of Mick’s biker friends had relatives down there that owned a flat to rent. The two temporarily moved in their till they got the whole family thing figured out. Mick picked up a job working bike/motor repairs at a garage while Terri stayed at home with Floyd. Eventually the two saved up enough money from their jobs plus money they’d brought with them to afford a small home together. Mick continues his work repairing/restoring motorbikes in his free time
-Despite Mick being very good at driving a motorbike he’s still been in a handful of crashes, the worse he’s ever gotten was when he broke his leg when Terri and him first started dating. Terri was fuming at him, but to this day Mick has never seen her look so shaken and scared. Nowadays, now that he’s got a wife and kid, Mick takes extra care to be careful (Terri has a truck she and Mick used to move to New Orleans but Mick hates driving it, he openly prefers his bike)
-Mick smokes and is the type of relative to always have the lingering smell of smoke on his clothes (he probably owned a small collection of pocket knives as a teenager). But once Terri, and more so Floyd, came into his life he worked harder to smoke less. Nowadays he’s a lot better at not smoking, Terri banned him from smoking indoors period when they moved in together so he only smokes outside
-In the Mayhem series episode 6 where Floyd meets Teeth at his graduation he says how he still sometimes walks into doors, so Mick’s tinted shades are actually prescriptions. His eye sight isn’t terrible without them, everything mostly looks like big blotches of colour without them hence why he wears them constantly
-I’m going hopefully write a story for how Terri and Mick meet Animal after the cannon events in the series but it took a while for Animal to properly warm up to them. He warmed up to Terri first before Mick (Terri’s eyes and general purple completion reminded him of Floyd), but he’d often stick close to Floyd whenever they went round to visit, only ever leaving his side for up to a couple of minutes before he’d run back to him. While they where very, very confused about Animal (they learnt of his existence very suddenly and not the way Floyd had planned) they grow fond of him very quickly. They love their rapid red badger grandchild
-Terri especially has a very low bs tolerance. Working at a bar she’s seen and even had to break up bar fights so she’s often a voice of reason in any given scenario
-Mick on the other hand has a very talk shit get hit attitude. He was pretty reckless and bullheaded when he was a biker and sometimes bit off more then he could chew by being too smug to the wrong person.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Garage Door Repair Services Near Me for Quick Solutions
Well-maintained garage door repair services near me are essential for your home's protection and functionality. Victorville Garage Doors is the only company to call if you need trustworthy and quick garage door repairs. Serving the community with empathy and promptness, we are the go-to source for quick fixes that guarantee the smooth operation of your storage door.
Local Expertise with Global Standards:
Victorville Garage Doors takes pleasure in being a nearby provider issuer dedicated to world standards of excellence. Our team of expert technicians is well-versed in the special desires of the Victorville community, addressing storage door problems quickly and effectively. From residential houses to business establishments, we recognize the numerous necessities of our clients.
Timely Solutions for Your Convenience:
We know that a broken storage door might interfere with daily operations and risk the security of your items. We give timely options top priority to maximize your convenience. When you search for "garage door restore offerings close to me," Victorville Garage Doors is geared up to reply swiftly. We aim to limit downtime and quickly fix your door to the most outstanding performance.
Comprehensive Range of Services:
At Victorville Garage Doors, we provide a complete variety of storage door repair offerings to tackle several troubles that might also arise. Some of our key offerings include:
Spring Replacement:
We specialize in changing worn-out or damaged door springs, ensuring your door operates quickly and safely.
Opener Repairs:
If your storage door opener is malfunctioning, our technicians can diagnose and restore the problem promptly, restoring handy and admission to your garage.
Track Alignment:
Misaligned tracks can cause operational problems and protection concerns. Our specialists can realign tracks to ensure appropriate door movement.
Roller and Hinge Replacement:
Damaged rollers and hinges can affect the clean operation of your storage door. We substitute these elements to repair functionality.
Emergency Repairs:
We recognize that storage door troubles can occur anytime. Our emergency restore offerings are available 24/7 to tackle pressing concerns.
Why Choose Victorville Garage Doors?
Local Presence:
Being a neighborhood carrier provider, we recognize the precise desires and challenges of the Victorville community. Our crew is acquainted with the area's neighborhood structure and frequent storage door problems.
Prompt Response:
When you search for "garage door restore offerings close to me," promptness is crucial. Victorville Garage Doors prioritizes rapid responses to your inquiries and ensures well-timed carrier delivery.
Experienced Technicians: Our group includes skilled and expert technicians with extensive knowledge of storage door systems. They are skilled at diagnosing problems precisely and furnishing innovative solutions.
Quality Parts and Materials:
We use incredible components and substances for all repairs to ensure the toughness and reliability of your storage door.
Customer Satisfaction: Customer delight is at the core of our services. We try to exceed your expectations by providing notable storage door restoration solutions.
Contact Victorville Garage Doors for Your Repair Needs:
Victorville Garage Doors is your dependent partner when you want storage door restore offerings close to you. Contact us nowadays for swift and dependable options that prioritize your comfort and the safety of your property. Our dedication to excellence, neighborhood expertise, and client pride make us the go-to preference for storage door repairs in the Victorville area.
#garage door service#garage door repair#garage door near me#garage door installation#garage door maintenance#garage door
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Homesick
Google Docs Link
When the world became too much for Festur to handle, when things were too loud and too much, he could always find peace in the old barn behind his hive. Riptid never went out there, he knew that was Festur’s space. The rotting wood served more as a garage than a barn. It was always a strong gust away from toppling over forever. Riptid was smart to be wary of it.
But Jodiah never feared the reaper. Neither did Tianel, but judging the loud music barely muffled by the old wood, it was safe to assume she wasn’t there. She’d been talking to a recruiter for a company that had been hiring. It looked promising. A future for the three of them, maybe even Riptid. Jodiah would feel bad leaving his family behind, but he would come back, and he was sure they’d all understand. His thoughts swirled around his head, almost loud enough to drown out the music as he pushed the door open.
Now, there was no sound system in the barn. No speakers or fancy stereo. The sound came from the old muscle car that Kittle had left for Festur before ditching him. It used to drive, up until a few months ago. The transmission went out, Festur had said, too expensive to get it repaired. Jodiah had offered to pay for it, but his flush was never one for handouts. They had spent many nights flying down empty highways, screaming lyrics in their own private concert. Fes could usually be found in the driver seat with the windows down. Pretending it still drove, pretending things were simpler. At that moment, however, he was not in the car. Curiously, Jodiah closed the barn door behind him and went to investigate.
He started by turning the radio down. He loved Troll Tracy Chapman as much as the next guy, but this car hadn’t been fast in a very long time. Easier to investigate without her singing. Jodiah yelled the rust’s name, then Tianel’s, and Riptid’s. The lime glanced around to no avail. He was about to start shouting for Kittle. Fucker left for the Fleet without a word, Jodiah wouldn’t put it past the violet to randomly pop in. He began to fish his phone from his hoodie pocket when he was grabbed from behind.
Warm rust-tinged arms coiled around his waist and lifted him into the air. Jodiah’s panic only lasted a second before it quickly melted into a fit of laughter. Festur spun them both around twice, faking a growl as he did. Jodiah’s laughter fizzed out as his feet found the ground once more. Festur made sure he was steady before he pressed a quick kiss to the lime’s cheek.
“Gotcha, Joey.”
Jodiah twisted around in Festur’s arm, draping his own over the rust’s shoulders, “Psssh, I let you win that time.” His cheeks were dusted with a lime blush and a cheeky grin.
“Suuuurrreee,” He rolled his eyes, pressing another chaste kiss on the lime’s freckles, “Can’t let the masses know the kid of the great Annihilation got got by a rust, huh?”
“Fuck the masses, don’t tell Tian. She’ll never let me live it down. Speaking of, is she coming here later…?”
Fester nodded, beginning to sway. He always had a hard time standing still. Especially when his favorite songs played. Instinctually, Jo swayed with him.
“She’s finishin’ some paperwork, then coming over. Rip’s been under the weather, might get a pizza if you wanna stay too. Wait- you eat with Twitch on Thursdays, nevermind-”
“It’s Friday, goof.” Jodiah couldn’t restrain a soft laugh. “I’d love to stay.”
Fester hummed in approval, and silence fell between them. Jo rested his head against Festur’s shoulder, letting the music swallow them both whole as they danced. It would be the last time they danced together in that barn. How were they supposed to know? Maybe Jodiah would’ve enjoyed it more had he known. Would’ve closed his eyes a little longer, breathing in the stale air, feeling warm in the moment.
“Do you really think she’ll leave us?” Had he known, maybe he would’ve kept his mouth shut.
“She’ll come back.” Fester promised, sounding so confident in the moment, “She always does. She’ll write. She’ll visit.”
Jodiah was quiet. Had he known, maybe he would’ve said something else. Rather, he squeezed his flush tightly, holding him close. It wasn’t the last time they’d hug, but close to it.
They were interrupted by the barn doors opening. Jo’s gold blooded kismesis stood, watching them, hand on her hips, as if busting them for misbehaving.
“Ew, you two, get a room!”
Laughter. Genuine belly laughter. That night would be the last time they all three laughed together. They would eat pizza, watch a shitty action movie with Riptid and Pawps, and fall asleep in a heap on the couch. The next day, Fester would help Tianel pack after work. Jo would study for his upcoming med exam sitting on Tia’s bed. It would be the last time they were all in the same room together before she left.
Tianel would leave the next week. Jo was almost too late to say goodbye, delayed because he had to drop Twitch off, made it by the skin of his teeth. Tian held him so tightly, he thought he might suffocate. It would be the last time he saw her. Had he known, he would’ve held her a little bit longer, he would’ve complained less.
Jodiah sent letters. Festur sent even more than he did. There was never a response. Jodiah watched his flush crack and crumble, watching him grow angry as yet another person left him behind. Tian was his moirail, not Jo. He felt useless when Festur got angry. He tried, he really did, he never gave up hope that Tianel didn’t leave them. It spiraled until Festur hit. It only happened once and shook both of them to their core. It ended with a hug, a desperate apology. This would be the last time they hugged. Had he known, he would’ve held him longer.
I’ll go into the Fleet, he said, I’ll find her and bring her back. She must be lost, or stuck, and she needs our help. But Festur didn’t listen.
You’re leaving me too, he had yelled, the sound of betrayal deep in his voice.
Jodiah left for the Fleet a sweep after Tianel disappeared. He waited for hours at the loading deck. His family came, each one saying their goodbyes. But Festur never showed. Jodiah waited, and waited, and waited.
Had Festur known he was going to die, maybe he would’ve gone to say goodbye.
—
Dia blinked once, twice, three times. The hazy past faded from his mind, only the reflection of his face in the mirror remaining. What an odd place for a mirror, big enough to view himself from where he sat on a bed that wasn’t his. It wasn’t uncommon for his reflection to trigger the same movie-like scene of regrets and memories. It was so much easier to imagine a different person had gone through all of that. It wasn’t Dia, the man with the mask and the robotic voice. It was the sorrowful bastard staring back at him.
Dia studied his features carefully. Tired eyes, sunken cheeks, even his freckles seemed dull. When did he get so old? When did the weeks become months, become sweeps. At what point did he give up being a doctor to become what he was now. At what point was he supposed to stop searching for Tianel.
A ding from his phone tore his attention away. Finally, hours after the prison break, did Twitch reply to his text. He was happy she was alive. It was so difficult to be mad at her, despite it all. He knew loss. When Beloved had told him the news about Festur, over the phone, he would’ve done anything in that moment to bring Fes back. But Fes’ death was ruled a suicide, there was nobody to be angry at but himself. Nobody to throw on death row. And there was no bringing Fes, or Marsie, or Tianel back.
He turned back to his reflection with tired eyes. The baby-faced lime decorated with freckles staring back at him didn’t belong in the Fleet, where he sat now in his commanding officer’s private quarters. The violet he slept with would be finished showering soon, he knew this well. His reflection longed to go back home. Home, in that barn, with that broken down muscle car blasting music, slow dancing with the other two pieces of his heart. How it hurt, to be homesick for a place you could never return to, for a time you barely remembered.
The faucet turned, shower dying out. With a newfound sense of urgency, Dia finished lacing his boots. He spared his reflection one last glance before situating the mask on his face. He was no longer the lime dreaming of being a doctor, who wanted to make a change in the world. He was Dia, part of the problem he sought to fix.
Quiet as ever, Dia snuck out of his commanding officer’s quarters. No strings attached, the door would latch behind him. He would return to his own as if nothing ever happened. The next day, he would land back on Alternia to visit his hospitalized sister, to begin repairing the cracks in his family once again. He might try to find Mondes. He would take Merkii to the aquarium, he would check on Toresce, life would keep moving and flowing and changing. But tonight, in the dark emptiness of his block, Jo would slow dance with the memories of his missing lovers. Wishing for the past, for that old muscle car to fly them all away. Feeling like he belonged, feeling like he could still be someone.
(tianel, twitch, marsie, merkii, toresce, & kinder are not mine)
#jodiah monark#festur canuis#homesick#jazz.art#drabbles#there is SO MUCH lore in this#why dia doesnt go by jo. why he joined the fleet.#theres also several song references
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
#socalgaragedoor
SoCal Garage Door Repair Inc.
15 Hubble Suite 200D, Irvine, CA 92618
SoCal Garage Door Repair Inc. is a leading garage door repair and installation company serving Orange County. We are local, family-owned, and operated. Our team of highly skilled technicians is dedicated to providing top-quality services for residential customers, including garage door repair, maintenance, and installation. We specialize in broken spring replacement, panel repair, opener installation, and more, with fast and reliable service at a fair price. We pride ourselves on exceptional customer service, ensuring your complete satisfaction with every visit. For all your garage door needs, trust SoCal Garage Door Repair Inc. - contact us today to schedule an appointment and experience the difference.
Follow us on social:
Instagram
YouTube
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
What Materials Are Frequently Utilized In Iron Work Services, And Also Just How Do They Contribute To The Total Toughness?
In the wide realm of building and also construction, iron job solutions command a substantial location as a result of their necessity in developing resilient structures. The integral stamina, convenience, and also longevity of iron make it an optimal product for numerous applications varying from constructing frameworks to crafting complex decorative aspects.
However, the total long life as well as efficiency of iron-based frameworks are not exclusively contingent on the natural buildings of this metal; they are equally affected by the type of materials utilized combined with iron as well as the particular treatments applied during the construction procedure.
The extensive use alloys-- compounds made by incorporating two or even more metallic elements-- is a testimony to this reality. Alloys boost the physical buildings of pure metals, making them preferable for particular applications.
For instance, adding carbon to pure iron results in steel-- an alloy known for its increased strength and resistance versus wear and tear. Similarly, surface treatments like galvanizing can considerably improve corrosion resistance, consequently expanding the lifespan of iron frameworks.
This article aims to clarify these typically made use of materials in iron job services while elucidating exactly how they add towards boosting general sturdiness.
Checking out the Function of Alloys and Treatments in Enhancing Long Life of Structures
The unification of alloys and treatments in iron work services becomes a perfect symbol of strength as well as long life, dramatically boosting the sturdiness as well as life expectancy of frameworks.
Alloys are a fusion of 2 or more metallic elements, which when combined, existing superior homes contrasted to individual parts. Significantly, steel - an alloy predominantly made up of iron and also carbon - is renowned for its high tensile strength as well as malleability. It has become a staple in building due to these top qualities combined with its resistance to environmental results such as rusting. Other prominent selections consist of cast iron, identified by its terrific solidity as well as put on resistance, making it excellent for applications where toughness is paramount.
Moreover, various treatments have been created to additionally improve these intrinsic characteristics of alloys made use of in the field. Hot-dip galvanizing involves finish iron or steel with zinc, giving cathodic defense that prevents deterioration successfully. Similarly, powder layer uses added protection versus weathering whilst at the same time supplying a visually pleasing finish. The procedure entails using powdered paint electrostatically onto steel surface areas after that treated under warm to develop a difficult shell-like layer over the product's surface area.
These treatment approaches not only add in the direction of enhancing general architectural integrity but additionally supply considerable financial benefits by minimizing maintenance expenses and also expanding service life cycles.
#iron works#iron works near me#ironworkers#ornamental iron works#ironwork#wrought iron#metalwork#iron fabrication#iron designs#iron gates#iron fences#iron railings#iron sculptures#custom ironwork#architectural ironwork#decorative ironwork#ironworking tools
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Everyone was mad at James Bond, but that was absolutely nothing new. M was mad because he’d gone off rogue for another couple weeks, forcing them to have to find another double oh to cover one of Bond’s missions. Tanner was mad because he’d lost a bet, foolishly betting that Bond was actually going to come back from a mission on time. Moneypenny was mad because he’d been forcing all of his paperwork onto her, and that kind of responsibility was far below her pay grade and her sanity. And Q… well it was always the same only story with Q, wasn’t it?
Everyone was getting their revenge in ways that Q found rather predictable, and Bond didn’t even seem to blink an eye. M put him on worse assignments, usually Bond was too deep into the bottle to even care where he was. Tanner arguably should’ve just stopped betting on Bond in the first place, but instead he worked to promote other agents at Bond’s expense. Moneypenny, one of the cleverest of the bunch, invited Bond to a brunch meeting in one of the empty conference rooms, revoked his keycard access the moment he was inside, and trapped him in with hundreds of pages of paperwork that needed to be filled out. She didn’t let him out until every single page was completed.
Q, on the other hand, was a master of patience. It was a virtue he felt was surprisingly lacking in MI6 these days, but it only made his plan even more appealing. Q pretended that it didn’t bug him in the slightest that all of Bond’s gear went missing at a moment’s notice. Q pretended not to blink when millions of pounds were poured down the drink. Q pretended he didn’t notice when Bond kept giving his gadgets to pretty women.
It was when Bond finally wrecked the beautiful Aston Martin that his plan finally began to click back into place. The repair for the car took months, and even then Q knew they’d never truly get it back to the level that it had once been, but soon the day was upon him to outfit Bond with a new car.
“Have something nice for me?” Bond purred, walking up to Q’s desk as if he were the king of the world.
“You’re a lucky man, Bond, I don’t know how you convinced the higher ups, but we have you assigned to the newest model we’ve got. Come with me, and I’ll show you.” Q said, pulling out a clipboard as he stood up from his desk, leading Bond to the automotive section of Q Branch.
“What can I say.” Bond said, the smug pride in his voice entirely evident, “My number may be 007, but I’m #1 in everyone’s heart.”
Q could have puked right there. He held it together, if nothing else for the pride he’d feel at the final great reveal.
“Well, then.” Q said, moving entirely past Bond’s worst one-liner to date, “I’ll tell you, what we’re giving you has incredible horsepower and fuel efficiency, probably one of the prettiest models we have to date.” They both walked up to the large garage door that Q often used to do dramatic car reveals. He nodded at a nearby boffin who began to pull at a comically large lever.
“I’ll be excited to see her.” Bond said, practically rubbing his hands together at the thought of something new and shiny to destroy.
Every so slowly, the garage door opened to reveal…. An all-black mare, lazily munching away at some hay that had been set there to appease her. As if on cue, her tail flicked at a particularly loud fly. The look on Bond’s face was priceless, and Q had never been more grateful for the security system that he was sure would be recording every moment of Bond's anguish.
“I hope this isn’t your first time on a horse.” Q crowed. Revenge truly was a dish best served cold.
Putting this at the end so as not to spoil the twist, but thank you @stormofsharpthings for the prompt "I hope this isn't your first time on a horse" for my 007 Fest Collab Prompt table! I always love a bit of Q Branch revenge.
#this one was so fun#thank you storm!!#james bond#q#007 fest#007 fest 2022#teambondvillains#thoughtsfromtheprimordialsoup#soup's fanfiction
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Repairing and Installing Garage Doors
For your house or place of business to be safe and secure, your garage door must operate properly. A garage door, whether it be residential or commercial, serves as a deterrent to unauthorized entry, safeguards your valuables, and improves the curb appeal of your property. Regular servicing, repair, and installation are essential to keeping your garage door reliable and effective. The significance of garage door maintenance as well as the essential elements of repair and installation will be discussed in this article.
Garage Door Service: Ensuring Safety and Longevity
To ensure peak performance and increase its longevity, routine garage door maintenance is essential. A comprehensive inspection, maintenance, and small adjustments are all part of a professional garage door servicing to keep the door operating properly. It assists in spotting possible concerns before they develop into significant ones, avoiding inconvenient breakdowns and expensive repairs.
The technician will examine a number of parts, including springs, cables, rollers, tracks, hinges, and opener systems, during a garage door servicing. To ensure correct operation, they will lubricate moving parts, tighten loose screws, check balance and alignment, and test safety features. You can prevent mishaps like malfunctioning doors or unexpected collapses, which can lead to injuries or property damage, by taking care of these problems as soon as possible.
Garage Door Repair: Restoring Functionality
Garage doors may need repairs even with routine maintenance because of deterioration, elements, mishaps, or component failure. It's critical to obtain expert garage door repair services as soon as possible when dealing with problems like a broken opener, broken springs, damaged panels, or misaligned tracks.
Experienced technicians are equipped with the skills, knowledge, and resources to do the required repairs and make a precise diagnosis of the issue. They will fix or replace damaged panels, replace defective parts, realign tracks, adjust spring tension, and check that safety measures are properly operational. In addition to restoring functioning, prompt garage door repair reduces the possibility of further damage and increases the lifespan of your garage door.
Garage Door Installation: Enhancing Security and Aesthetics
Prioritising quality, usefulness, and aesthetics is critical when installing garage doors. A properly placed garage door not only improves the appearance of your home but also offers strong security. The door fits correctly, runs smoothly, and conforms with safety regulations thanks to professional garage door installation services.
Experts will carefully measure the opening during installation, select the appropriate door type and size, and attach tracks, springs, cables, and opener systems in a secure manner. In addition, they will inspect all safety measures and calibrate the opener to guarantee correct operation. You can have piece of mind knowing that your property is safeguarded and that your door will function flawlessly for years to come by investing in professional garage door installation.
Choosing the Right Garage Door Service Provider
When seeking garage door service, repair, or installation, it is essential to choose a reliable and experienced service provider. Here are a few key considerations:
a. Reputation: Look for a company with a solid reputation in the industry, with positive customer reviews and testimonials.
b. Expertise: Ensure that the service provider has skilled technicians who are well-versed in all aspects of garage door service and repair.
c. Licensing and Insurance: Verify that the company is licensed and insured, providing protection against any potential liabilities.
d. Warranty: Inquire about the warranty offered on repairs and installations to ensure long-term satisfaction and support.
e. Emergency Services: Opt for a company that offers 24/7 emergency services, as garage door issues can occur at any time.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Garage Door Replacement vs. Repair: Making the Right Decision!
The garage door serves as a functional and aesthetic component of your home. It provides security and convenience and contributes to the overall curb appeal. However, garage doors can experience issues over time, like any mechanical system. When faced with problems, homeowners often debate between repairing or replacing the garage door.
A properly operating garage door is crucial for several reasons. It ensures the safety and security of your vehicles and belongings stored in the garage. Additionally, a well-maintained door enhances the curb appeal and value of your property. Regular maintenance and timely repairs help prevent potential accidents, maintain insulation, and extend the lifespan of your garage door. You also have the option of emergency garage door services Toronto to help yourself overcome sudden situations and find a solution tailored to your needs.
In this blog, we will probe the factors to consider and guide you in making the right decision for your garage door.
Come On!
Signs Of Garage Door Issues
Recognizing the signs of garage door issues is essential in determining whether repair or replacement is necessary. Some common signs to watch out for:
Noisy Operations
Excessive noise during garage door operation, such as grinding or squeaking sounds, may indicate worn-out parts or inadequate lubrication.
Slow or Uneven Movement
If your garage door moves slowly or unevenly, it could indicate issues with the tracks, springs, or opener. This can affect the overall functionality and safety of the door.
Damages Panels or Hardware
Visible damage, such as dents, cracks, or rust, on the garage door panels or hardware may compromise its appearance, functionality, and security.
Safety Concerns
Malfunctioning safety features, such as sensors or auto-reverse mechanisms, pose a significant risk. If your garage door fails to detect obstacles or reverses unexpectedly, it requires immediate attention.
Garage Door Repair
Repairing a garage door is a cost-effective solution in many cases.
Benefits
Cost savings compared to replacement
Preserving the original door's aesthetic appeal
Addressing specific issues without major modifications
Extending the lifespan of the garage door
Common Repairs
Garage door repairs may involve fixing or replacing components such as springs, cables, rollers, tracks, or the opener. These repairs can restore the functionality and performance of the door.
Hire A Professional
When it comes to Toronto garage door repairs, it is highly recommended to hire a professional technician. Garage doors are complex systems with various components, and attempting repairs without the required expertise can be dangerous and may lead to further damage or personal injury.
A garage door technician at Dortech Garage Doors has the knowledge, experience, and specialized tools to diagnose the problem accurately and safely and perform the repairs. They can also identify any underlying issues that may not be immediately apparent and ensure that the door functions optimally.
Garage Door Replacement
While repairs can address many garage door issues, there are situations where replacement is the more suitable option. Consider the following factors when contemplating a garage door replacement:
When To Consider Replacement
Extensive or irreparable damage: If the garage door has significant structural damage, multiple broken panels, or a damaged frame, it may be more cost-effective and practical to replace it entirely.
Outdated or inefficient door: Older garage doors may need more insulation, proper sealing, or modern safety features. Upgrading to a new door can improve energy efficiency, enhance security, and provide better protection against the elements.
Desired aesthetic or functionality: If you wish to update the look of your home or improve the functionality of your garage door (e.g., opting for a different style, adding windows, or upgrading to an intelligent opener), replacing the door allows for customization and personalization.
Upgrading To A New Door
Garage door replacement offers an opportunity to upgrade to a more advanced and technologically advanced system. Modern garage doors include improved insulation, noise reduction, innovative connectivity, and enhanced durability. These upgrades can provide added convenience, comfort, and peace of mind.
Professional Installation
Just like repairs, a professional should carry out garage door replacement. Professional installation ensures the door is correctly fitted, aligned, and balanced, maximizing its performance and longevity. Additionally, a professional can guide you in choosing the right door that suits your needs and preferences.
Factors To Consider
When deciding between garage door repair and replacement, several factors should be taken into account:
Age And Condition
Consider the age of your garage door and its overall condition. Repairs may be sufficient if the door is relatively new and the issues are minor. However, replacement might be the better long-term solution if the door is old, worn out, or showing signs of multiple problems.
Comparing Cost
Evaluate the cost of repairs versus the price of a new garage door. Extensive repairs can sometimes add up and become more expensive than a replacement. Consider the potential for future repairs and maintenance costs associated with an older entry.
Long-Term Value
Think about the long-term value and benefits of each option. A new garage door with modern features and improved efficiency may provide excellent value, convenience, and curb appeal, potentially increasing the overall value of your home.
Personal Preferences
Consider your personal preferences and goals. If you have a sentimental attachment to your existing door or prefer to maintain the original look of your home, repairs may be the preferred choice. On the other hand, if you like a fresh and updated appearance or wish to incorporate new features, a replacement can fulfill your preferences.
Making The Right Decision
Making the right decision between garage door repair and replacement depends on thoroughly evaluating the abovementioned factors. It is advisable to consult with a professional garage door technician who can assess the condition of your door, discuss available options, and provide expert advice tailored to your specific situation.
This is it! A well-functioning garage door is essential for your home's safety, security, and aesthetic appeal. When faced with garage door issues, carefully evaluate the signs, consider repair versus replacement, and consult a professional to make an informed decision. Whether you choose door repair Toronto or replace it, prioritize your garage door's long-term functionality, durability, and overall value.
#garage door repair#garage door#door repair#door installation#garage door installation#garage door open#garage door repair pickering#garage door repair north york#garage door repair in toronto#garage#blog#blog post#like#trending#viral#tumbler
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
yrkhn
yrkhn
obi-troll-kenobi
personal bigos
den-and-burrow
Den & Burrow
gund-arminc
wfm scholar
patrygonzalez
Patry