#san diego handyman

[anevbarry]

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[deadboyfriendd]

Captain Seeks Mate

This is so stupid. 

At four cents a word, Early Bird had taken Steve Harrington for all he was worth. 

“Captain seeks mate– must be into pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Mid-to-late 20s, witty and funny. Tall, dark, & handsome. Write to me and escape. Box D183.” 

He couldn’t believe himself, yet, here it was, nestled between Handyman Wanted and 1978 Plymouth Volare. The product of his own desperation, printed in Times New Roman– staring him in the face for this Sunday’s very own Early Bird edition. He wondered where it had all gone wrong, wondered where he went from Steve Harrington, local heartthrob, to an ad in the personal column of the absolute rag sheet that The Early Bird had always been. 

He wanted to blame Scoops Ahoy, those stupid little shorts and sailor hat. He wanted to blame Nancy Wheeler, who made him out to be an absolute idiot– No, he shook his head, you did that to yourself. 

And then he thought about you, golden under the blistering sun of Phoenix, Arizona. Arizona State University wreaked havoc on this life and he left with a minor in possession, 36 C-average credits in Business Administration, and a heart kicked directly in the ass. He wanted to blame you, he wanted to blame his father for sending him there– his own alma mater, he wanted to blame W. P. Carey himself, but even Steve wasn’t stupid enough to try to push this on someone else. 

Stupid, but not that stupid. 

It had been three years, and Steve had found himself settling into the comforts of blissful, beautiful stagnation. His apartment was nice– far nicer than his current job would allow him, thanks, Robin. 

It wasn’t like he frequented this place often. His home was adrift, on board The Lady May. It was an inherent truth that Steve belonged on a boat, preferably in the absence of a shirt– and this job had been the calling of a lifetime. Where Steve had struggled in the areas of statistics and business analytics, he learned the laws of the sea, learned the fishing regulations and how these animals functioned. Now, Steve got to live life as slow as the rolling waves of San Diego would take him. For that, he was thankful. 

“You’re seriously advertising yourself in the paper now?” Robin asked him, her eyes peering over the top of the paper with both wonder and disgust, “Do I dare bring back the board?” 

“What?” Steve asked her, turning around from his barstool. 

“Captain seeks mate, Steven? This has you written all over it.” 

“Why are you even reading the personal column?” 

“Because I like to laugh at them.” She said to him with her brow raised. Her hand came down to gesture at those horrible, ambiguously worded advertisements, “But this? This is just sad.” 

He reached over to her, snatching the paper from her hands. He unfolded his glasses, letting them sit low against his nose, now unabashed by his need for them– his unyielding desire to see outweighing the once debilitating vanity that overtook his ability to simply wear them. Robin never pointed this out, she was just glad to see him doing something for himself for once. But this? There was no way she was letting this die. 

He read the paper with his brow furrowed, feigning confusion and nonchalance. Perhaps he could play this off, but there was nothing he was able to skirt past her. 

“Nope. Not me.” He started, face stone cold. It was an immediate sellout, but Robin was feeling generous today. She would let him have this. 

As he handed her the paper back, she gave him a sideways glance through a raised brow, wondering what had ever prompted him to be this desperate. Maybe he had finally gone crazy, all of those hours on the water finally turning him into a regular Castaway.  

+

This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen. 

Well, second most. The first had been moving to San Diego to cut your teeth on some rag sheet with the promise of being the sole graphic designer. Something new and exciting. You could do new and exciting, you tried to convince yourself of this. You had graduated summa cum laude from one of the top ten design schools in the country– you just didn’t mention that that had been Arizona State and you had also gotten a minor in underage drinking. New and exciting was your game. 

But this? This had been one of the most entertaining things you had ever seen, staring you right in the face. You couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled from your lips, drawing looks from the editors perched at their beige desks like the world's most modern gargoyles. Had no one else seen this? 

“Captain seeks mate– must be into pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Mid-to-late 20s, witty and funny. Tall, dark, & handsome. Write to me and escape. Box D183.” 

It had been three years since Steve had disappeared without a trace, your golden boy under the glowing sun of your homeland. He was the greatest gem the Midwest had to offer, a diamond in the rough. Gold-skinned and eager, with a laugh like sunshine and a touch like Midas, gone back home with little to no warning. Your heart had been shattered in the process, manifesting itself in a nose to the grindstone and an early release of a BS in graphic design. The sun stung too much in his absence. You’d needed something frigid. 

Or maybe you’d been frigid enough. 

You rolled your shoulders at your desk, the cramping in your neck signaling the end of the work day and your ticket out of here– your home the promised land of naproxen and that waning bottle of Don Julio 70, a gem you’d grown to love an appreciate with all of your newfound adult money. 

You’d drained the last of your savings on a (most-likely overpriced) two bedroom a block away from the ragged coastlines of La Jolla Cove, where, every morning, you would watch the run rise along the tide pools where you’d tote your lukewarm mug of coconut cold brew, and watch the sun set over a rocky shore. It was a slow life, and you’d liked it that way. 

But tonight, as you watched the boats bob back and forth in the orange glow of the marina, you couldn’t help but to feel a semblance of nagging withing you. 

Captain Seeks Mate. 

It was ridiculous. It was stupid. But maybe something ridiculous and stupid was what you needed. Something with no pressure, something that was fun. Something that wouldn’t shatter your heart into another million pieces when it would disappear. 

So here you were, stupidly folded into a stupid, ridiculous pile at your stupid counter, drafting a big dumb letter on to a piece of paper: 

 Hello tall, dark, and handsome. 

I am writing in response to your ad in the personal columns of The Early Bird from the Sunday, June 27th edition. Three years ago, my heart was broken by another tall, dark, and handsome type. I read that the ocean heals, so I traded my land legs for sea, and now I seek a captain to guide me to smoother waters. 

 I will spare the formalities. I am not into hiking or health food. I live a life of comfort and leisure. I eat when I am hungry and drink when I am thirsty. I like to live my life in good company between work days, and you seem like the company I’d like to keep.

I am particularly fond of getting caught in the rain– when it happens, that is. I hail from the desert southwest, and I thrive on sunshine and sand. I live quietly. I like to read and paint. I keep houseplants. I am nobody’s poet, but I’m into champagne. 

I want to meet you. I want to cut through all of this red tape. 

It is true, I like pina coladas, though I prefer a tequila sunrise at the best of times. The Pisces bar on Mission and El Camino De Playa conveniently has both. Meet me there at tomorrow, noon. 

Sincerely, 

Tequila Sunrise

Box 1751.

[half-oz-eddie]

Thank you @shieldofiron for passing the baton my way ♡

here's my contribution for the @harringrove-relay-race!

There’s never a dull moment at 1566 Main Street, where Neil Hargrove is a slumlord. He owns a shitty building that’s hanging on by a thread and he’s too cheap to pay for the upgrades. But he wanted that ceiling rent, right? Cheap Bastard.

More often than Billy would like, his phone rings, because this or that is busted and fucked up, and Neil just leaves it all on Billy’s shoulders to get it done, and do it right or else.

He didn’t give a shit that he’d left Billy with such a mess. Their handyman quit months ago, and it was up to Billy as the superintendent to make sure this shit show of a building was running just enough to not end up with an investigative reporter exposing them on the channel 7 news.

Billy sat up, groaning in annoyance when his phone rang again. It was the new tenant down the hall, calling to tell him that his lock was broken.

Billy dragged himself to 3F, knocked on the door, and a preppy, bright-eyed pretty boy answered with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly. I was afraid I’d have to miss work.”

“Not a problem.” He assessed the lock. “This is a shit building anyway. My old man doesn’t do what he should for the tenants.”

“Well at least you care about the tenants, right?”

“Guess so.” He mumbled back, focusing his attention on the door.

The lock was a quick fix, only taking Billy roughly 10 minutes. Thankfully, he had all the right tools on hand. 

“Finished already?” The tenant asked.

“Yeah. Y’mind if I use your bathroom to wash my hands?”

“Go right ahead!” He said welcomingly. “It’s uh—“ He stopped himself with a laugh. “You probably already know where it is.”

Billy nodded, inviting himself down the hall. He caught a brief glimpse into the bedroom, spotting the curtain sheet and mattress on the floor as he passed by.

He washed his hands and headed back to the door, preparing to let himself out.

“I’m right down the hall in 3A, so, if you need anything, you can just knock on my door. Like I said, this place is a shit hole, so…I’ll expect to hear from you again.”

“I’ll probably uh, call first.” He nervously chuckled. 

“Whatever floats your boat, Mr. Harrington. See ya around.”

“Wa-wa-wait!”

Billy turned back. 

“I’d love to thank you. My friends say I make a mean cup of Joe.” He persuaded with a smile.

Billy shrugged. The neighbors weren’t usually so friendly, so this was a change of pace. “Why not?”

He was offered the only chair in Mr. Harrington’s apartment at a wobbly little table.

A few minutes later, Mr. Harrington joined him at the wobbly table, offering him his only good mug, keeping the mug with a broken handle for himself. He sat on a storage box, his chin meeting the tabletop.

“So, Mr. Hargrove—“

“Please call me Billy. My dad’s Mr. Hargrove.”

“Only if you call me Steve.” He grinned.

“Deal…Steve.” Billy charmingly enunciated his name.

“So, Billy,” he continued “have you always lived in Los Angeles?”

“No. Lived in San Diego most of my life. My gramps left this building to my dad about 4 years ago, and he made me the super.”

“Oh, I see. I kinda moved out here on a whim.” Steve shrugged. “I was staying in a shitty motel for a few days before I secured this place. My dad’s not too happy I’m here, so we’re not on speaking terms.”

“What’s he got against LA?” Billy curiously asked, eyebrows raising as he sipped the surprisingly delightful cup of coffee.

“Nothing, I don’t think. He’s just pissed I didn’t wanna join the family business. I wanted to give modeling a try.”

“Modeling?” Billy snorted.

“Y-you don’t think I can?”

“Pretty boy like you? You could definitely be a model.” Billy nodded.

Steve hung his head down, hiding a blush. “You’re uh…you’re a nice looking guy yourself. You’ve never considered modeling?”

“I did once, but the photographer said I’m…difficult to work with.” Billy smirked mischievously, causing Steve to laugh. “I just don’t like people telling me what to do. Stand like this, stand like that, poke your cock out a bit.” He joked. “Not my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Surfing, swimming, cars, I dunno. If I could do all 3 for the rest of my life, I would. But I’m stuck here, fixing shitty locks and making sure my old man doesn’t get sued.” Billy glanced at his vibrating phone and stood. “Gotta go. Thanks for that…mean cup of Joe.” Billy smiled. “See ya around.”

“Bye!” Steve waved, a wide smile on his face. He let out a happy sigh. Maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

A week later, Billy received a call after hours. It was Steve Harrington again.

“Hey. You having some kind of emergency? I’m…sorta off the clock.”

“Yeah I—shit—sorry! Something happened with one of my pipes and now there’s—ah! God dammit! There’s water everywhere. Couldja help me?”

“Be right there.”

Billy sighed and put his shoes back on. “I’m so tired of this shitty fucking building.” He grumbled. “Something’s always fucking fucked up.”

He swung his door open in annoyance, locked it swiftly and headed down the hall. 

He gave Steve’s door a harsh knock, his eyes narrowing at the wet idiot standing before him.

“I uh…” He exhaled. “I tried to fix it myself, but I made it a whole lot worse.”

Billy rushed in, groaning. “Jesus, Harrington, What did you do?”

“I-I dunno!” He exclaimed worriedly. “I just—I didn’t wanna bother you after hours.”

Billy was so irritated, but he couldn't find it in his heart to shout at the pathetic, sopping wet dumbass. One look in those shameful, doe eyes behind those dripping bangs, and Billy simply had no fight in him. It was pretty sweet of Steve to think of him by trying to fix the pipe on his own. But jesus, what a mess!

“This place is hanging by a goddamn thread, Steve.”

Billy went to work fixing the pipe, water splashing all over him in the process. It took him twice as long as the lock, but he was able to fix the problem before the kitchen began to flood. 

“I’m really sorry.” Steve apologized, handing Billy a towel. "I'll clean everything up."

Billy took off his shirt and rung it out in the sink. “Just…promise you won’t try to fix anything else by yourself, okay?”

Steve slowly nodded, as he was too stunned to speak. His eyes were glued to Billy’s wet, chiseled body, following the water droplets that fell into his jeans. 

“Uh—I—yeah. Yeah I promise.”

“Is there anything else you need fixed before I go?” Billy asked.

“N-no. Nothing else. I’ll let you know. I promise.”

Billy gently patted Steve’s shoulder and let himself out.

Billy returned to his apartment and opened up a can of beer, aggressively chugging it as he fought back the tears in his eyes.

Crisis fucking averted. He couldn’t imagine the world of pain his father would bring upon him if Steve’s apartment flooded.

He didn’t blame Steve. It wasn’t his fault. It was all Neil. Neil and his shitty expectations. His shitty demands and his shitty fucking building. 

Billy wanted to get out of there more than anything, but his father controlled his life for so long, he didn’t have anything to his name. He barely paid him a decent wage for being the building super. What was the fucking point anymore? Billy was destined to be alone and miserable in this dreary building. 

He cried himself to sleep. 

Another week passed. There were only 2 repairs needed in the building, and things felt fairly calm these days. Billy and Steve would catch one another in the hallway. Steve would always wave, and Billy would make a joke about Steve swimming in his indoor pool. 

One afternoon, Billy was on his way down to check the mail and Steve was waiting for the elevator.

“What’s with the big boxes? Moving out already?” Billy smirked, causing Steve to laugh.

“No, no. I bought some new furniture.”

Billy got a closer look at the boxes. Those were some pretty high end brand names. Looks like Harrington came from money. He wouldn’t have moved to an awful building like this, if he were Steve.

“D’you need some help assembling the furniture?”

“Really?” His eyes widened in surprise. “You gonna charge, like, an assembly fee?”

“I won’t. Just being friendly to a tenant and neighbor.”

They exchanged soft gazes and sweet smiles.

Steve accepted the help. “That’d be great. I really wanna get this table together before my friend comes to town to visit me this weekend. She’s gonna bring her girlfriend and her girlfriend really doesn’t like me.” Steve confessed with a laugh.

“No? How come?”

“She thinks I’m stuck up or something, I dunno. I guess it’s because I was an asshole in high school.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah me too.”

“I’m gonna bring these boxes down and then we can put together my furniture now, if you can.”

“I don’t have anything else on my schedule. I was gonna grab my mail and binge watch something.”

“Sorry for ruining your plans.” Steve teased as the elevator door opened.

“You’re not sorry.” Billy softly chuckled. 

They returned to Steve’s apartment together and assembled his table.

“Finally, it’s not a piece of shit little table like the last time you were here.”

“Yep. An actual decent table with some nice chairs.” Billy nodded satisfactorily. “Looks pretty good.”

“You wanna stay for dinner? A-as a thank you. I’ve got a lasagna prepped, if you’re hungry.”

Billy paused before accepting the invitation. “Sure. I could eat.”

Steve popped in his lasagna and toasted some breadsticks, then made 2 plates for himself and Billy.

“Looks damn good, Harrington. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“My mom was always cooking and baking for charity events and dinner parties so I helped out in the kitchen here and there.”

Billy took his first bite, a moan nearly slipping out of his mouth. “Jesus, this is the best food I’ve had in a long time.”

“Really? I-I’m sure you probably cook quite a bit yourself.”

“I don’t cook at all. No idea how.”

“Really? W—I could teach you, if you want. A-and we could eat a few meals together, if your schedule’s free.”

“I live where I work and I have all my meals alone. It’d be nice to eat with someone for a change.”

“You uh…want some wine? I dunno if you drink or—“

“I drink. I’ll take a glass.”

Steve poured a glass of wine for each of them, and they continued to chat into the late hours of the night. Steve fell asleep on his new couch and Billy washed the dishes before leaving Steve’s apartment and heading to bed.

His heart was racing practically the entire night and he couldn’t understand why. What was so great about the hot neighbor-slash-tenant with his soft, fluffy hair and his smooth voice and his stupid smile. Yeah, okay, maybe he looked sexy in an apron and knew his way around the kitchen and he was like a wife, who could also be a husband and he was every goddamn thing Billy wanted—but what’d that matter? He was damned to spend his life alone in that shitty building until Neil died and he was free to demolish it someday. 

Only then would he be free.

A month passed. Billy had dinner with Steve at least twice a week. Sometimes their dinners would turn into movie nights. Steve even invited him over for party games when his friends came into town to visit. 

And each moment they spent together, only caused Billy to fall deeper in love. 

Steve had to work, so there wouldn’t be any dinner that night. He made sure to give Billy some leftovers from the night before, so Billy heated them and ate them before going to bed early.

He groaned in annoyance when his sleep was disturbed by a late night phone call. 

“Another emergency?” He wondered, when he noticed Harrington’s name on the screen. It was 9:52 PM. Did his pipe burst again?

“Hey, Steve, what’s wrong? Is it the pipes?”

“No, but, I do need something repaired. Could you come by for a moment? If it’s not too much trouble.”

Steve was more of a treasure than trouble to Billy. He was the only sense of life in his dreadful world. He would come anytime Steve called, no matter how late.

“No problem, be right there.” He responded cooly, concealing his excitement to see Steve again.

He grabbed his tools and headed down the hall. Steve opened the door before he could knock.

“Alright, show me where the problem is.”

“It’s uh…not something you can use tools for.”

Billy raised a brow in confusion. “What’re you talkin’ about, Harrington?”

“Can—can you fix a broken heart?”

This is what he called me over for?

Billy laughed. “If I knew how, I’d fix my own.”

“Whenever I catch a glimpse of you around the building, you always look so sad and alone. I just…I hate seeing you like that.”

“I’m not like that when we hang out, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does. Because I feel better when I hang out with you too.” There was a long pause as they averted each other’s eyes. They could feel their hearts nearly beating out of their chests. "You like my coffee, you-you laugh at my jokes. You support my ambitions. Even my friends like you!"

"Yeah, your friend's girlfriend seems to like me more than she likes you."

They shared a laugh, and Steve's smile slowly faded as his gaze turned serious.

“W-what I’m saying is...” Steve clenched his sweaty fist “I think…I think I’m falling for you.”

Billy gasped upon hearing the confession. Was this a dream? Was he still in his bed, fast asleep? Maybe he should pinch himself to find out.

“You sure you’re not just trying to get a rent-free apartment?” Billy joked.

“Is uh…is it working?” Steve replied in jest.

Billy nodded. “Yeah. A little bit.”

When Steve gently pulled Billy into his arms, embracing him, Billy knew for sure this wasn’t a dream. He hadn’t been held like this in forever, maybe never. His mom used to hold him tight, but that was familial love. This was…a new and unexpected romantic gesture.

Billy did everything he could to hold back his tears. 

Steve gently pulled away, looking into Billy’s cloudy eyes with his own. 

“You really can fix anything, can’t you?” 

“I dunno if I would call this fixing, but I’m definitely building something new with you.”

Steve kissed him softly, and Billy melted into his arms. For a split second he imagined merging with Steve and never parting with him again. 

“One day, you and me, we’re gonna get the hell outta here. We’re gonna do everything we’ve ever dreamed of, and we’re gonna be happy.”

“Steve, this is the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time. I’m almost satisfied with this.”

“You don’t have to settle, babe. We’re gonna have a beautiful life together, and you’ll never have to fix some shitty pipes ever again.”

“I’m holding you to that promise, pretty boy.”

They sealed the deal with another kiss.

And Steve did keep his promise. 

Thank you for reading! Please look forward to something incredible from @adelacreations ❤️

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Analysis: Of Mice and Men (Cultural References)

Bindle: A bag, sack, or carrying device.

Bindle Stiff: Hobo; transient who carries his belongings in a sack.

Bunk House: A sleeping quarters intended for use by multiple people.

Talcum Powder: Very similar in texture to baby powder, talcum powder was used mainly after bathing or shaving.

Apple Box: A box used for storage or as a stepstool capable of holding a person's weight.

Scourges: A widespread affliction, an epidemic illness or the consequence of some natural disaster, like fire, flood, or a migration of locusts.

Pants Rabbits: A sexually transmitted disease, known as pubic lice.

Graybacks: The equivalent of ticks or lice.

Liniment: A topical cream for the skin that helps with pain or rashes.

Jerkline Skinner: Lead driver of a team of mules

Stable Buck: A derogatory name for an African-American man who works in the stables.

Stetson Hat: A famous brand of hats, especially cowboy hats.

‍Swamper: A general assistant; handyman.

Murray and Ready: An employment agency, specializing in farm work.

Work Slips: Proof that people had been hired to do a job.

Cultivator: A farming tool used to stir and soften the soil either before or after planting.

Cesspool: A well or pit filled with drainage or sewage.

Slough: A muddy or marshy area.

Tart: A woman who tempts men or who is sexually promiscuous.

Buck Barley: To throw large bags of barley on a truck.

Lynch: To illegally execute a person, generally applied to the hanging and/or burning of African-Americans in the south.

Slug of Whiskey: Equivalent to a hip flask of whiskey.

Gut Ache: A stomach ache.

Airedale: A type of dog, specifically Terrier.

Pulp Magazine: During the 1920s-1950s, inexpensive fiction magazines. From 1950 on, the term also came to represent mass market paperbacks.

Luger: The Luger pistol was an expensive, high maintenance weapon manufactured and used primarily in the German army.

Euchre: A card game played in England, Canada, and some parts of the U.S.

Two Bits: Twenty-Five cents.

Rag Rug: Rugs created from rags that were tied together by knots.

Kewpie Doll: A particular style of doll, one that was usually won at carnivals.

Phonograph: The first device for recording and playing sound, most specifically music.

Parlor House: Could be considered a restaurant, but more often parlor houses were brothels.

Hutches: A form of furniture, very similar to a wardrobe.

Welter: A boxer (refers to welterweight, a weight class in boxing).

Nail keg: A wooden barrel that could usually hold 100 pounds or more inside.

Russian Hill: Affluent residential neighborhood in San Francisco, California.

Travels with a Donkey: Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes (1879), one of Robert Louis Stevenson's earliest published works.

Varro: Marcus Terentius Varro (116-29 B.C.E.), Roman scholar/author and horticulturist.

Velasquez's Cardinal: Seventeenth-century painting by Spanish painter Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez.

Zane Grey: American adventure novelist (1872-1939).

Source

[callsigns-haze]

Short love: Chp 18

Summary: The is about widowed father Bradley Bradshaw who enlists his brother-in-law Jake Seresin and childhood best friend Robert Floyd to help raise his three daughters, eldest Donna Jo Margaret (D.J for short), middle child Stephanie and youngest Michelle in his San Diego home. 

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Warning: Fluff, flirting

With a shared vision in mind, Jake and Y/n roll up their sleeves and dive into the renovation project with gusto. The attic, once a neglected space filled with dusty boxes and forgotten treasures, is soon transformed into a bright and spacious bedroom, complete with multiple functional areas.

Together, they brainstorm layout ideas and design concepts, drawing inspiration from magazines, online resources, and their own creativity. They envision a space that is not only stylish and modern but also practical and versatile, catering to their various needs and preferences.

The first step is to declutter and clear out the attic, sorting through years of accumulated belongings and deciding what to keep, donate, or discard. With determination and teamwork, they tackle this daunting task, motivated by the prospect of creating their dream bedroom.

Once the space is cleared, they begin the renovation process, starting with structural improvements such as insulation, flooring, and walls. Jake's handyman skills come in handy as he handles the more technical aspects of the project, while Y/n lends her creative touch to the design and decor.

They install large windows to let in plenty of natural light, creating a bright and airy atmosphere. They also add built-in storage solutions to maximize space and organization, ensuring that every corner of the room is utilized efficiently.

As Jake focuses intently on drilling the wooden plates into the walls, Y/n watches with a mixture of amusement and admiration. She can't help but chuckle as she sees him maneuvering the drill, occasionally getting stuck or encountering a stubborn spot.

"Need a hand there, handyman?" Y/n teases, her laughter filling the room.

Jake looks up with a playful grin, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "I've got this under control," he insists, determined to conquer the task at hand.

But as he continues to drill, a particularly stubborn spot causes the drill to jam, and Jake lets out a frustrated sigh. Y/n can't help but laugh at his predicament, finding his determination endearing.

"Maybe I spoke too soon," she quips, moving closer to offer her assistance.

With a grin, Jake accepts her help, and together they work to free the jammed drill and continue with the task. As they work side by side, their laughter fills the room, turning the mundane task of renovation into a fun and memorable bonding experience.

As they continue renovating the attic, Jake and Y/n find themselves knee-deep in paint cans, power tools, and endless to-do lists. Despite the occasional mishaps and setbacks, they tackle each challenge with determination and a sense of adventure.

One afternoon, while attempting to install a new light fixture, Jake finds himself tangled in a mess of wires, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tries to decipher the instructions. Y/n watches from a safe distance, stifling a giggle as she sees him struggle.

"Need any help there?" she offers, trying to suppress her amusement.

Jake grumbles in frustration but eventually accepts her offer, grateful for her assistance. Together, they work to untangle the wires and install the light fixture, laughing at their shared clumsiness and enjoying the camaraderie of working together.

Another day, they decide to tackle the task of painting the walls, armed with brushes, rollers, and plenty of drop cloths. But their ambitious plans quickly take a comedic turn when Jake accidentally spills a can of paint, sending a cascade of white paint splattering across the floor.

Y/n's eyes widen in disbelief as she surveys the mess, but before she can scold him, Jake bursts into laughter, realizing the absurdity of the situation. They spend the next few hours cleaning up the mess, turning the ordeal into a lighthearted paint fight and making memories in the process.

Despite the inevitable hiccups and mishaps, Jake and Y/n press on with their renovation project, fueled by their shared determination and love for each other. With each coat of paint applied and each piece of furniture assembled, they inch closer to transforming the attic into their dream space, creating a home that reflects their love, laughter, and unique bond.

Jake looks up from his work as Y/n enters the room, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she approaches him, a small item hidden behind her back. He furrows his brow, curiosity piqued by her secretive demeanor.

"Hey, Mr. Handyman," she says smiling and kicking her feet.

"What do you have there?" he asks, unable to contain his curiosity.

Y/n smiles mysteriously, holding the item out of his reach as she teases him with a playful gleam in her eyes. "You'll have to wait and see," she says, her tone teasing and coy.

Jake chuckles, leaning in closer to try and catch a glimpse of what she's hiding. "Come on, don't leave me hanging," he pleads, reaching out to try and snatch the item from her grasp.

But Y/n deftly sidesteps his attempts, dancing out of reach with a playful laugh. "Not yet," she says, her smile widening as she revels in his curiosity.

With a grin, Jake sets down his tools, determined to uncover the mystery behind Y/n's secretive behavior. He follows her playfully around the room, determined to discover the surprise she's hiding. And as they laugh and tease each other, their bond grows even stronger, fueled by the joy of their shared antics and the love that binds them together.

Jake's eyes widen in astonishment as Y/n reveals the positive pregnancy test hidden behind her back. For a moment, he's speechless, the weight of the moment sinking in as he realizes the significance of what she's showing him.

"Is this...?" he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, unable to fully comprehend the news.

Y/n nods, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy as she confirms his silent question. "We're going to be parents," she says, her voice trembling with emotion.

A surge of overwhelming happiness washes over Jake as he wraps his arms around Y/n, pulling her close in a tight embrace. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart bursting with love and excitement for the new chapter they're about to embark on together.

"We're going to have a baby," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder and awe.

As they stand together in the newly renovated attic, surrounded by the promise of their growing family, Jake and Y/n share a moment of pure happiness and anticipation for the journey ahead. With their love as their guide, they're ready to embrace the joys and challenges of parenthood, knowing that they'll face them together, hand in hand.

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